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#my brain doesn’t usually feel like this after being gone a day
cherrysnax · 4 months
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hello hi howdy what do u do when feel ur like brain deteriorating asking for a friend
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babyleostuff · 4 months
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"silent treatment prank" on their s/o | ot13
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. . . how long svt can maintain their "silent treatment prank" after their s/o apologize even though they don't know what they did wrong
natalia's note: i don't think any of them would be able to hold out for long (as you'll see). it's a whole another thing when they give you the silent treatment when they're actually angry, but as a prank. never.
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❥ seungcheol 
[ ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚ ] one minute 
at first he wanted to try out this prank as a way to see you sulk and whine, as he usually does when you give him the silent treatment, and he thought he was being such a genius after he came up with the idea. mhm, yeah - genius my ass. the second he sees your puppy-like expression after he doesn’t reciprocate your hug, it’s over for him. it was clear to him that you thought he was bothered by you, you even apologised for entering his personal space and hugging him. thus not even a minute in, he’s all over you again, kissing you all over your face and apologising (with his noot noot pout) for his silly behaviour because come one - seeing you upset over his stupid prank is the last thing he wants to see. 
❥ jeonghan 
[ ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚ ] ten minutes 
as much of a menace as he is, he wouldn’t be able to ignore you for more than ten minutes. first of all - he simply gets bored. that’s it - bored. you’re right next to him, and he can’t talk to you, which is so??? he loves yapping when you’re next to him. second of all - he needs to touch you. yoon jeonghan needs his cuddles and kisses, and how is he supposed to get them if he’s ignoring you? third of all - he might be a bit mean (with love) sometimes, but there is no way he’d ever pull a prank on you which would involve you getting genuinely upset. like - making your partner insecure? mhm, not with hannie. so, he’d kind of try to ignore you for a bit (and failing miserably because he’d answer you half of the time anyways), and so after ten minutes he just gives up.
❥ joshua 
[ ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚ ] twenty minutes 
joshua is a bit similar to jeonghan with this (who would have guessed), the only difference is that shua is a bit more perseverant. ignoring you had never come easily to him and it never would be easy for him, but he had to admit that your slightly pouty lip was adorable, and he could practically see your brain trying to figure out what was going on. however, when he saw the first signs of you being actually upset, the entire bubble around this "funny" prank disappeared. no joke was worth your sadness, no matter how cute it made you look. shua quickly realised that the prank itself didn't make much sense and that he would much rather hug you right now than pretend that you weren't there at all.
❥ jun 
[ ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚ ] one hour 
he didn’t come up with that prank on his own, he’d never, but a lost bet is a lost bet, and he had to take the punishment. he felt so bad avoiding you, when you asked him about his day, if he was hungry, if he needed some rest, and when you started to ask if he needed space, some time alone, and if he wanted you gone for a while - jun’s heart broke. but he felt like it was too late to take everything back because you looked so sad and upset, and you probably hated him now too, so he couldn't say anything. an hour would be his breaking point - fuck it if you hated him, he needed you, and he needed to apologise, and damn the person who came up with this stupid prank. 
❥ hoshi 
[ ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚ ] 1.5 minute 
when his friends told him about this prank, and how they pranked their significant others, soonyoung thought it was such a brilliant idea, and he couldn’t wait to try it out on you. as it turned out - it was not brilliant, it fucking sucked. ignoring you, your kiss you always gave him when he came back from work, your questions if everything was okay, was one thing - seeing your upset expression was a whole nother story. you even apologised for being so all over him when he barely entered the apartment, clearly feeling bad, and that would be the end of hoshi’s prank. this man is the simpest simp to ever simp, he cannot stand seeing you sad, especially over something you didn’t even do.
❥ wonwoo 
[ ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚ ] 0.2- 0.3 seconds 
when wonwoo heard about this prank he was baffled to say the least - what’s so fun in ignoring your significant other? like, what’s the point? wouldn’t you rather hold them close, and spend some precious quality time together rather than ignoring them? somehow, seungcheol and jeonghan managed to persuade him into giving the prank a chance, and wonwoo decided to say yes just to please his friends and get them off his back. no surprise - wonwoo wouldn’t last a second. he’s physically unable to ignore you, a single quiet “wonwoo?” makes him go “yes, baby?” *cue in attentive eyes and a puppy like expression*. besides, he’d never be able to stand you being upset, knowing he was the reason behind your small pout and eyes lacking their usual spark. (also, ignoring you equals no hugs and kisses, and that’s something wonwoo cannot stand).
❥ woozi 
[ ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚ ] fifteen minutes 
does not see a point in this “prank”, thinks it’s very stupid and not fun. the only reason he did it in the first place was to stop hearing the constant nagging of hoshi and seungwkan, and if that was what it took to satisfy them, then whatever. he held out for fifteen minutes just because he was working on a lyrics when you came to his studio, and whereas he ignored your first hello because of the prank, he ignored your next questions just because he got distracted by his work. you were used to your boyfriend spacing out during work so that didn’t really bother you, though he never ignored your “hello” so you got a bit scared that he might’ve been angry with you or whatever. it took only one glance at you for woozi to remember that he ignored you when you came in, and he immediately dropped whatever he was doing to apologise and properly greet you with an extra kiss.
❥ dk 
[ ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚ ] 0.001 second 
not happening, never in a million years. come on, do you really expect seokmin out of all people to ignore you on purpose? over his dead body. the thing was - he overheard about the prank during rehearsals and thought it sounded a bit fun? like, he’d get to see you extra pouty, and he loved nothing more when you got cute like that - so the prank had to work, right? no. when he got home later that night, and you greeted him in the hallway with his hoodie draped over your body, rubbing your eyes with the sweater paws because it was way too late for you to be up, all of his intentions of executing the prank went out of the window immediately. later that night, when he held you close to his chest he felt so silly for even thinking that the prank would be a good idea.
❥ mingyu 
[ ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚ ] 2 minutes 
this man is too big of a yapper and too big of a clingy puppy to ignore you, besides he’s not that big on pranks, especially if it involves you getting upset. just try to imagine mingyu ignoring you, even though you didn’t do anything wrong. you can't, right? that’s the thing - mingyu has to touch you at all times, and he loves nothing more than talking to you, so why on earth would he go around ignoring you, wasting your precious time together on a silly prank? he tried it out just to see how many minutes he’d last, and well - he didn’t hold out for long, definitely not when you dropped your head and left the bedroom, thinking he was annoyed with you. he’d immediately follow you and explain that it was just a stupid prank (in return you’d give him a silent treatment ☺️)
❥ minghao 
[ ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚ ] two hours max 
the trophy goes to xu minghao - he’s the strongest of them all, though that doesn't mean it’s any less painful for him. when minghao decides on doing something he commits, he pours his heart and soul into whatever he does, even if it’s just a stupid prank. he wasn’t sure how he even ended up in this situation - him in your bedroom, trying to occupy himself with reading, and you in the living room, probably trying to figure out what you did wrong for your boyfriend to be ignoring you. he would have ended this stupid prank a long time ago if it wasn’t for his pride and stubbornness because now he’d have to admit to coming up with this stupid ass prank, and making you feel bad just for his entertainment (which he was not entertained by). when the clock struck the second hour after he locked himself in the bedroom, he threw away the book and practically ran out to you, an apology speech ready.
❥ seungkwan 
[ ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚ ] half an hour 
his stubbornness to admit the defeat of his prank would be the only reason why he’d hold out half an hour, if not for that he’d be running back to you after a minute. seungkwan was sure this prank would be the perfect way to get back at you for your last joke that you pulled on him, but surprise surprise - it wasn’t. he was still going strong when he saw your small pout - he thought the prank was working, and he’d get his revenge, but it wasn’t before he saw how sad you actually got that he started regretting everything. you started avoiding him like fire, you didn’t even dare to look at him, and that’s when seungkwan realised the prank was a bad idea after all, like - he didn’t mean for you to get so upset, he just wanted to make you a bit whiny and pouty for him, but none of that happened. after half an hour he was like “fuck it” because he wasn’t able to stand seeing you sad.
❥ vernon 
[ ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚ ] five minutes 
to be honest he just gets bored with the prank. he didn’t come over to your apartment to spend his day off ignoring you, and whoever came up with this “silent treatment prank” is plainly stupid. for one, vernon hates seeing you upset - obviously. like, who would want to ignore their partner just for funsies, and see them upset over something they didn’t do and make them self conscious? besides, it was his day off, and he wouldn’t spend it ignoring you, so after five minutes he was ready to curse out his friends that made him try out this “prank”, and apologise for acting so silly. 
❥ chan  
[ ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚ ] 0.5 seconds 
yeah, no - thank you next. this man, this man is a simp and he’s so in love with you it’s a bit worrying, there is literally nothing that could ever convince him to ignore you, for what - entertainment? because that’s what the prank sounded like, ignoring your significant other for entertainment. there were so many other things you could do together without either of you getting upset, so why not do them? one of his biggest goals in life is to keep you safe, loved, and happy - so he will not indulge in his friends' antics with this stupid ass prank. even the thought of ignoring you on purpose makes him sick, like… why? he would not be able to stand your upset expression, or the thought that you’d get self conscious about yourself. hell. no.
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ithebookhoarder · 4 months
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Hello hi ! 🤗
Can you do a "bau reacts" when they are undercover in public and about to be found out so the reader just starts making out with them to pretend they are just a couple?
(BAU Headcanons) Making out Undercover
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A/N: Mwahaha. Oh, this is a good prompt. Thanks for making me daydream all afternoon. Enjoy my lovelies 😉 Also, as a note, I'm writing the main BAU where I'm at watching it (season 13) plus Luke as he was requested previously 💕
Warnings: Mentions of threat, mentions of weapons, alcohol references, sexual references, implied cases / unsubs. (Let me know if I missed any)
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Aaron Hotchner
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We know Aaron doesn’t go undercover for most cases, so this would have to be a big case to get him into the field. 
This man would be in shock. Let’s be real. He would freeze in place and try to argue for a split second until he realises what you’re trying to do and why - even if you were already together. 
As soon as they’re gone though, you’d glance up and see his usual steely glare that tells you you’re in for a scolding once this is over. 
However, you’d have to be blind to miss the way he lingers for a moment, holding you close for half a second longer than necessary. 
“I feel I should remind you that we are in the field, and whilst it may have worked, I can’t endorse it as a tactic in future. Understood?” 
“So I’m hearing that we’re leaving this off of our case report then?” 
“Agreed. I don’t need to give Strauss anything else to use to go after us and the team.”
He would roll his eyes and take off after the Unsub, but you’d have to be blind to miss the way he smirks as he goes. 
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David Rossi 
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He’d be a little embarrassed but mostly quite smug about the whole thing, even if you were supposed to be undercover. 
“Well, I can safely say in all my years in this field I don’t think that’s ever happened to me before.” 
He’d also refuse to let you apologise for your actions afterwards either. 
One, because he’s kind of flattered. 
Two, because he’s been around the block a few times and knows that sometimes you have to do what it takes to solve a case or protect yourselves. 
Three, you were supposed to be a couple and kissing is what couples do. He’s only sour because if anything he would have liked to be the one who kissed you. 
“Relax about it, would you? I won’t tell you some of the things Gideon and I had to do back in the old days. That was before all this new paperwork and guidelines, so that’s all I’ll say on the matter.” 
You make a point of remembering to ask him about that at your next night off over drinks. 
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Derek Morgan
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Derek is always up for anything so I feel like he’d be pretty relaxed about being undercover with you, even if you weren't together romantically. He has no issue playing your pretend boyfriend for one night, and is quick to wrap his arm around you. 
Which is why it would be such a surprise to him when it’s you who initiated the kiss. 
Derek would freeze for like a second, but only out of shock. However, you know he wouldn’t fight you on it. 
The second his brain catches up to his body he would be kissing you back, doing everything in his power to match your energy and sell this kiss. 
If anything, you’re going to have to be the one to break away once the coast is clear and remind him you’re still technically in the field and that your team is probably wondering where the hell you are right now - and why you stopped responding to your comms. 
“I’m just saying, if we get to do that then we need to be partnered up more often.” 
“Yeah yeah, Morgan. Let’s just hope Penelope didn’t see that else we’ll never be hearing the end of it.” 
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Emily Prentiss
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She’s been undercover plenty of times in her life and spent a whole chunk of time actually fake-married to Doyle for an op, so she’d be the most comfortable and understanding if you grabbed her for a kiss - especially if you were meant to be a fake couple. 
She’d work it out pretty quickly and would respond in kind, pressing herself against you and running her hands all over you. 
“Quick thinking with the kiss,” she’d whisper as she brushed a kiss against your neck. 
She’d also know exactly where the Unsub is afterwards too, having kept watch in her peripheral vision. 
She wouldn’t even have to break eye contact with you before she informed you, “3 o’clock. He just left out the fire exit.” 
With that, she’d be off. 
She also probably wouldn’t even bring it up again until you’re both back on the jet. Then she’d be smirking at you across the top of her drink and chuckling to herself. 
“Normally I’d insist dinner first but given that we caught that bastard I think we’re even.” 
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JJ
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JJ knows about going undercover and it takes a lot to rattle her. She would probably go along with the action, even if she’d stay kind of stiff for a good minute or so. 
However, she’s a good agent and knows about maintaining a cover so quickly catches on when you pull her in. 
She’d return the kiss, shooting glances out the corner of her eye when she thinks it might be safe to check on their target. If it doesn’t look like they’re buying it, she’ll turn things up a notch and spin you around so that she could take control. 
“My gun is under my jacket. Reach for it slowly if he comes any closer,” she’d warn, but thankfully you don’t need it. Eventually they leave, distracted by something else, leaving you and JJ to recover.
After catching your breath, you both take off in the direction your target just left in. You can tell JJ is trying not to laugh about what just happened, choosing to make it funny rather than uncomfortable if you weren't together romantically.  
Which means you know she’d enjoy teasing you about it in front of the others, making your cheeks burn as she announces on the jet: “For the record, even though it was a ‘cover kiss’ it was pretty good. Just saying. Maybe you should give Morgan some tips. That way he might get a girl to call him back after a first date.” 
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Luke Alvez
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It doesn’t matter if he’s ex-army or whatever. Undercover is not really Luke’s thing and even then, he is more used to infiltrating gangs than playing house. 
Basically, he would be surprised by your actions, despite being undercover together. Like, I can see his eyebrows hitting his hairline so fast, bless him. He’d look like a deer in headlights. 
“Woah, sweetheart, slow your roll-“ 
“- Luke. Shut up and kiss me. Now.” 
“I - ok.” 
Just like that, he’d take control, turning and pressing you against the nearest wall in an attempt to shield you from whoever was watching. He’d also be such a gentleman about it if you weren't already together romantically, keeping his hands on your waist and pulling away the minute he’s sure the danger has passed. 
Even then, he’d wait a minute before letting the two of you move from your position, just in case they come back. He’s your partner and he’s returning the favour for you keeping him safe, even if in an unsuspected manner.
“You good?”
“Luke. Shouldn’t I be asking you that? I was the one who planted myself on you.” 
“Potato, po-tah-to. Are they still over there?”
“No. They just left out the back.”
“Then let’s go, partner. Let’s catch this freak.” 
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Penelope Garcia 
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If Penelope is in the field then you know she is already hella nervous and out of her element. It doesn’t matter if there was a reason she was needed for this particular assignment, she would just take that as added pressure not to let everyone down.
Which is why I’m sure you’d feel worse about planting one on her - even if it does also help distract her from worrying for a minute.  
All I can imagine is her giving her trademark squeal of confusion and surprise, even if you gave her a hasty warning - and apology - about what you were going to do.
She’d be stunned at what was happening and probably takes a minute to realise she should probably try and kiss you back, or at least look less visibly startled about it. 
“I feel I should point out how unfair it is that this is permitted as ‘suitable workplace behaviour’ as we’re undercover, yet my flirtatious texts with Agent Morgan are not? I will be writing a strongly worded email when we get back, telling HR they can go shove their-”
“Pen? Hey, focus here. Unsub still watching us.” 
“Oh, right. Sorry! Ahem… as you were?”  
Also, you know that like a day or so later, once it’s all over, she sends you an email informing you that your new username on the BAU system is now ‘smoochykins’ and she will not change it until it becomes not-funny for her… which will probably be never. After all, Morgan has been ‘Chocolate Thunder’ for the last two years and is still going strong.  
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Dr Spencer Reid
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Spencer has been undercover before and is usually quite calm about it, even if it is faking a date or maintaining a story. Still, despite having to do your jobs, you’d hate to make him uncomfortable, knowing how he feels about any kind of physical contact - especially if you're not together. 
As he says, with the amount of bacteria shared by shaking hands you’d be safer kissing … guess it was time to take it literally. 
He’d be blushing like a tomato as you grab his jacket lapels and pull him close. And honestly? it’s kind of adorable. As is the way he tries to kiss you back, even if he still takes a minute to remember how to even move his body. 
I’m just picturing the Lila kiss in season one and how he eased into that and how stunned / embarrassed he seemed afterwards. He would pretty much be like that, but with a fake smile on his face as he rambled in your ear. 
“What was that?”
“I was covering our asses. We’re undercover, remember? We’re supposed to be a couple and couples kiss. Also, I’d thought you know, genius, that kissing and displays of public affection make people extremely uncomfortable.”
“No kidding… Morgan can never find out about this.”
“You don’t have to tell me twice. You got a deal, pretty boy. This is between us.” 
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nereidprinc3ss · 10 months
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omg i'm obsessed with the idea of spencer and a university student and i looooved the one you wrote with reader struggling with finals (i relate so much </3) i'm not sure if you write requests or not (if not, then i'm sorry and please ignore this hahaha) but i would love to see more of their dynamic? maybe spencer for once arrives earlier from a case and goes to pick up reader from university as a surprise? i don't really know but i would love to see more 💗 thank you and i hope you have a good day!
AHHHH omg you have NO IDEA how excited I was to open my inbox and see a request!! i am absolutely obsessed w spencer x uni student too
i kind of took this and ran w it so its a little angsty and random LOLOL but here is (drumroll)
spencer picking up reader after you fail an exam (sorry lol) and you are NOT in a good mood but he loves you so its fine
Tears, partly from the bitter wind and partly from shame, blur your phone screen as you exit the lecture hall. Another missed call from Spencer. It’s the third one today—you've been ignoring them in an attempt to remain focused on the final that you just bombed. Part of you now wants to keep ignoring them out of sheer embarrassment. How can you admit to your super-genius boyfriend that you are a bona fide academic failure? Still, you don’t want him wondering about you while he should be working. Your numb fingers fumble with the phone as you try to call him back without running into anybody on your walk back to student housing. 
It doesn’t reach the second ring before he’s picking up. 
“Hey,” he sighs. “I was starting to worry.” 
“I’m sorry, I’ve been busy,” you exhale, cutting through some trees as you approach your building. “What’s up? How’s the case?” 
“Well... that’s actually what I’ve been calling about. We wrapped up this morning.” 
“What? But last night you said it would be at least three more days.” 
“Rare instance of me being wrong, I guess.” 
“So when are you flying back?” you ask, not wanting to get your hopes up. You know sometimes his team stays behind to help with processing a case. He doesn’t reply for a moment. “Spencer?” 
“I’m... thirteen minutes away from your school. Twelve.” 
Your brain short-circuits as you process his words, the cold metal of the door handle biting into your fingers as you stop dead in your tracks. 
“You--are you driving here right now?” 
“Yes,” he begins, sounding embarrassed, “I kept calling because I wanted to ask first, but I know you had your last final this morning and you were going to come over when I got back anyway so I thought you might want to come stay with me for a few extra days. You can say no, obviously—” 
Some of the icy despair melts in your chest. 
“Of course, I want to.” 
“Good,” he exhales a laugh. “It would have been awkward if you said no. Can you have a bag packed by the time I get there?” 
You’re speedwalking through the lobby now, hitting the up button for the elevator more times than is necessarily effective. 
“Drive faster.” 
“Yes, ma’am.” 
By the time you blindly shove enough clothing in a bag, text your roommate to let her know you’ll be gone for the rest of the week, and make it back outside, Spencer’s familiar vintage car is already pulling up to the curb. He doesn’t even bother cutting the engine—just puts it in park and gets out, rounding the vehicle as you close the distance between one another. His smile is brilliant, and though you don’t feel particularly deserving of it, it’s for you. 
“Hi,” you breathe shakily as he loops his arms around your waist. 
“Hi, pretty,” he says, already leaning down to kiss you. It’s soft and sweet over too quickly, but then he’s gently pulling you into him. You drop your bag and bury your face in his jacket, trying to right yourself before you go into an emotional tailspin. 
As usual, he smells like lavender, clove, resinous amber. It makes your head spin. Right away you feel yourself relaxing; feel your guard slipping, like it always does when he’s around. 
“I missed you.” The words are quiet to begin with, muffled further by the fabric of his coat, but you know he’ll hear you. 
“I missed you too,” he murmurs, stroking your hair. “Everything okay?” 
Why are you always surprised when a man who works for the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI accurately analyzes your behavior? 
“Just tired. Can we go home?” You pull back enough to look up at him, meeting his fond—and just a little concerned—gaze, averting your eyes before he has time to discern your... omission of truth. 
“Yeah, angel. Of course we can.” 
He opens the passenger side door for you, making sure you’re settled before tossing your bag in the back seat and circling around the back of the car. 
“Is that coffee?” You say as soon as he slides into the driver’s seat. His eyes dart down to the tumbler in the center cupholder as he buckles. 
“It’s from the jet. You won’t like it.” 
Despite his warning you reach over to grab it, taking a small sip as he puts the car into gear and pulls out of the parking lot. You make a sour face. Spencer glances over. 
“I told you it was bad.” 
You yawn, putting it back in the cupholder. “It was worth a shot.” 
Jazz music plays quietly from the speakers and the heat is blasting, but you’re too busy mentally rehashing question 37 to find it relaxing. 
“You didn’t get enough sleep last night,” he states. Not a question. Outside, the brick buildings of your campus roll by. You wonder if all the students rushing about on the sidewalks and side streets failed any of their finals.  
“Couldn’t,” you mumble flatly, picking at your nails.  
There’s a moment’s pause, and you’re imagining all the things you could have done differently. You’ve never failed a final before. If you’d just studied a little bit harder—if you’d stayed in instead of going out last weekend, if you weren’t so— 
“I’m going to ask you something, and I don’t think you’re going to like it,” Spencer says. 
“Mhm,” you hum, too afraid to speak because your eyes are already stinging again. Honestly, you’re surprised you made it this far without him getting the truth out of you. He offers his hand across the console as you slink down in your seat, and you take it, allowing him to run his thumb over yours in soothing lines. 
“How do you think your final went?” 
You bite the inside of your cheek, the bare branches of the trees outside blurring as you stare unseeingly. 
“Not good. Like, I definitely failed, not good. I'm an idiot.” 
“You absolutely are not an idiot.” 
“You didn’t see me taking the test, Spencer. I literally just sat there staring at it for ten minutes before I even answered one question. It was pathetic.” 
“Did you sleep at all last night?” 
The question takes you by surprise. Your frown deepens. 
“What? I don’t—that’s not—" 
“Just answer the question. Did you sleep at all last night?” 
“Yes!” 
“Don't lie to me.” 
“Fuck you! I slept for like two hours and had coffee this morning!”  
He squeezes your hand. 
“That’s why you failed.” 
The first tear traces its path down your cheek, composure overwhelmed by the confrontation. 
“I hate when you use your stupid interrogation tactics on me,” you say, voice wobbling. And then the crying begins in earnest. 
“I know, baby.” 
His hand moves to rub your back when you let go to cover your face. Torrential evidence of your frustration and utter exhaustion well over, slipping through your fingers despite your best efforts to stop them from coming at all. Having an emotional breakdown in the passenger seat of his car is far from how you’d wanted to greet Spencer’s surprise arrival, but you’re too worn out to mask your emotions—especially when he is so adept at drawing them to the surface. 
A moment passes like that before you take a shuddering breath, raising your head slightly and wiping your cheeks with your sleeves in vain. 
“I should have been able to do it. I just—it was like I was reading the questions and I knew that I should know the answers, but I couldn’t remember anything.” 
“You’re exhausted. Sleep deprivation has an immediate, devastating effect on cognitive functioning levels. My recall and processing speed start to fail when I’m tired, too. It has nothing to do with how smart you are.” 
It makes sense—but it doesn’t make you feel much better. You wanted to ace this exam. Of course, Spencer wouldn’t understand because school was as easy as breathing for him. He barely had to try to get three doctorates. It’s possible, you suppose, that dating a genius has put an academic chip on your shoulder—maybe you’ve set impossibly high standards for yourself.  
After a few minutes the crying finally ebbs, if only because you’re running into supply and demand problems with your tear ducts. You rub your weepy eyes on your shoulder, leaning against the cold window and watching DC go by. 
“You know, the final isn’t as important as you think it is. You’ll still pass the class.” 
“It’s symbolic,” you mumble, breath fogging up the glass. Spencer hums, still rubbing your back. 
“I know. I know it matters to you, but I don’t want you to think one bad grade is a reflection of who you are. Do you understand why it doesn’t make sense to measure something as abstract as intelligence by a metric as one dimensional as a standardized test?” 
“Yes.” 
“Good.” 
You shift in your seat, wiping your face with your sleeve and prompting Spencer to take your other hand once more. 
“Can your FBI friend hack the university database and give me an A?” you ask after a moment, sniffling. 
“Absolutely not.” 
“Pretty please?” 
“Nope.” 
“It’s like you don’t even love me,” you mutter, angling yourself away from him.  
He pulls your hand toward him and presses a kiss to the back of it. 
“I love you so much that I don’t want you to get expelled for academic dishonesty.” 
“It doesn’t matter anyway. I’ll probably just drop out.” 
You both know you’re just being overdramatic, but Spencer has a tendency to be sweet even when you don’t deserve it. 
“I’ll love you no matter what you do.” 
You blush, unable to come up with a sufficient reply. His eyes slide to you briefly and he smirks, clearly enjoying his ability to fluster you, and by extension, get you to shut up. 
“Eyes on the road, genius,” you grumble. But for the first time today you’re fighting a smile instead of tears. 
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anthotneystark · 3 months
Text
Wanna change my clothes, my hair, my face
(Also on AO3 now!)
It doesn’t happen suddenly.
Or, it does, but it’s a long time coming.
It’s a long time coming because it’s been coming his whole life. It’s been coming since the first time someone looked at him and said “it’s a good thing you’re pretty”. It’s been coming since the first time he heard someone say “beauty over brains”. It’s been coming since he was old enough to know that his dad was already planning on having to make connections to get him into a school of his choosing. He’s always known his book smarts were lacking, but it always hurt when he was reminded of it.
But it’s been more recent than that too.
It’s been coming since he felt that slick tail wrap around his neck. It’s been coming since Robin helped to change the bandages on his back. It’s been coming since the first date after everything ended with him going to bed alone because “I’m just not in the mood anymore” followed him pulling off his shirt.
It’s been coming since forever.
His looks have been his biggest asset his entire life, the only thing he could really use to get attention. And now there’s scratches in the paint.
After everything, when they’re finally safe, everything changes.
He doesn’t change, or he doesn’t think he does, because his habits are the same and his thoughts are the same and his nightmares are the same. But life slows down. And with it slowing down, he changes anyway.
Where once he was all lean, taut muscle, he softens. It’s still there, his daily runs and exercise are proof of that, but it’s a little more insulated.
(Robin tells him it’s because he’s been living with the stress of monsters for years, that feeling safe has pushed his body out of survival mode.)
It’s been coming though. With each comment from his mother about how he’s clearly eating too much junk food. With his father’s comments about how long his hair has gotten. With how girls’ eyes just skim right over him and move on.
It’s not all bad, of course. The kids, surprisingly, don’t comment beyond their usual teasing over things within his control – “stripes again? Don’t you have any other patterns?” or “why do you have to wear those shorts while you’re cleaning the pool?” which is usually followed by Eddie smacking whoever said it. Max makes exactly one comment, quietly, when it’s just the two of them still awake during a movie night.
“You’re a better pillow these days.”
Maybe it’s a joke, maybe she’s just being nicer with her teasing, but whatever her reasoning he likes it. When he thinks about it like that, being different doesn’t feel like a bad thing.
It doesn’t usually last long though.
So it’s not a sudden thing, until it is.
He’s not even totally sure what causes it. Some comment, sure, but the words themselves are in one ear and out the other. His parents are leaving for another trip, his mother comments about eating healthier while they’re gone, his father makes some dig that’ll lodge under his skin with all the other barbs he’s thrown at him for all these years.
All he really remembers is that a comment is made. The rush of heat and sour bile in his throat. The door shuts and all he can hear are overlapping echoes of all the comments that have ever been thrown at him. All he can feel is the tightness of the tee shirt he’s wearing the weight that no longer rests on his shoulders, but which is spread over his entire body. He finds himself looking into a mirror and suddenly cannot look at that any longer.
His hands shake and he doesn’t trust himself, but he knows where he can go.
It should scare him that he doesn’t remember the drive. It should scare him that he’s here but doesn’t fully know how he got here. But he doesn’t have room for more panic in his head. They’re past the point of knocking, of waiting to be let in, so pushing through the doorway of the trailer is a familiar motion. Eddie looking up and smiling where he’s strumming his guitar is a familiar sight.
The way his smile faulters and turns into a frown is less familiar.
“Stevie? What’s wrong?” He feels like he can’t breath, can’t possibly explain everything in his head, but he can’t just expect Eddie to read his mind. He’s not Robin after all.
“I need it gone. Off. I can’t…I can’t,” he manages, one shaking hand sliding into his hair and tugging, the pain grounding for just a moment. Eddie might not be able to read his mind, but he understands him these days more than most people. It’s an unlikely friendship founded in terror and fortified by countless hours in hospital rooms and new homes.
“Oh sweetheart. Are you sure?” He knows it’s extreme, but he can’t help what he needs, even if Eddie is concerned. He nods, swallowing hard. Eddie doesn’t try to talk him out of it, just pulls him to the bathroom and sits him on the edge of the tub.
“Lets start small, okay? And we can go as far as you need from there.” He wants to argue, but at the same time he knows it’s reasonable. And it’s Eddie. He trusts Eddie. He can’t make any words come out, but he manages a little nod. Eddie, doing what he does best, just starts talking. He’s not really paying attention to the words, but he doesn’t have to. He can feel the chill of the metal scissors, the soft rumble of Eddie’s voice, the too gentle fingers pushing and pulling him into whatever position is best. Eddie pauses now and again, a question in his eyes, but continues on when he sees whatever he’s looking for still lingering.
It's not until Steve feels his shoulders slumping, his hands loosening where they’re clenched at his knees, the chill of the breeze from the open window hitting skin that no longer feels boiling hot, that Eddie sets down the scissors. He feels lighter, doesn’t even care about the itchy feeling of stray hairs clinging to his clothes and skin.
When he finally looks in the mirror, his hair is shorter than it’s been in years. It’s not gone, not buzzed off, but it’s not the same as it was.
Neither is he though.
Eddie’s giving him a knowing look, one that says he’s got something to say but is holding off.
The cut itself is a little rough, but in a good way. It’s clearly not a professional sort of thing; he likes it more because of it.
“Thank you,” he whispers, exhaustion and relief hitting him in equal measures.
“You know, when I buzzed my hair, there were a lot of rumors,” Eddie says softly. “Stuff about my dad punishing me, about looking too girly before, that sort of thing. But really, it was just…so much going on all at once. My dad had just gotten arrested, mom took off, Uncle Wayne was stressed over having another mouth to feed. I felt like I couldn’t breath and just-” he makes a buzzing noise and mimes shaving through the mop of dark hair, which he’s got tied back today now that Steve can actually see it.
“Just had to get it off?” he asks.
“Yep. Needed it gone. Growing it back was a pain, but it was good too. Felt like a fresh start even if it was a little like trying to get back to where I used to be,” Eddie explains. It makes sense, at least to Steve. “So, you know, I get it. But I also know you’d have another breakdown if we shaved it all off completely,” he jokes. It’s enough to drag a laugh out of him.
It’s very Eddie, baring his soul while he’s helping to bandage a lost sheep, and Steve wishes he had the words to say how grateful he is. Instead, he just takes the towel Eddie throws at him and the soft, well worn clothes Eddie sets on the counter. He showers, pulls on a shirt for a band he doesn’t recognize, and breathes out a sigh of relief when the vice around his body finally, finally, comes loose.
Eddie doesn’t wait long once he sits down on the couch, immediately flopping back to use his thighs as a pillow while he goes back to strumming along to the music in his head. It’s a quiet moment, a safe moment. He doesn’t even notice as his head drops back to rest on the cushions, his breathing slowing as he finally feels light enough to rest.
Later, he’ll wake up with their positions reversed, with Eddie playing with his hair in a way that’ll make his brain turn into mush. Later, he’ll gather the courage to finally stop toeing that line of friendship and more that he and Eddie have been dancing on for so long now. Later, Eddie will hear everything that’s been in his head and will hold him down while he kisses every last insecurity and promises that it’s only made him more obsessed with him.
Maybe that won’t fix the insecurities, but that doesn’t mean Eddie isn’t going to make it very clear just how happy he is loving Steve exactly as he is at every point in time.
Because it doesn’t happen suddenly.
Or, it does, but it’s a long time coming.
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steddieas-shegoes · 6 months
Text
i wanna make your heartbeat run like roller coasters
for @subeddieweek day one with the prompts manhandling and accidental subspace
rated e | 3,520 words | please check ao3 for tags
⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕
Eddie gets pushed against a lot of lockers.
It’s rarely accidental.
It’s always painful.
He doesn’t exactly have a lot of meat on his bones. Every hit leaves a bruise.
So when Steve fucking Harrington does his own dirty work for once, even though he graduated the way Eddie was supposed to, it’s just a bit embarrassing that it doesn’t hurt. It feels…kinda like he should be on his knees.
Which is really not something he wanted to think about when Steve’s got a hand on his shoulder, gripping hard enough to bruise, and something like fear in his eyes. Why is he scared?
“Did you sell weed to Robin?” he asked, teeth clenched.
Jesus fucking Christ. Steve’s got himself a band nerd girlfriend. How the hell did that happen?
“No, I sold to her friend. She waited by the treeline talking to herself the entire time.”
Eddie could hear his own voice shaking, but he wouldn’t back down. Black eyes were kinda metal weren’t they?
“Which friend?”
“Dude, I don’t even know. Someone else in band.”
The hand on his shoulder tightened and he barely bit back a whimper.
Steve’s eyes were very pretty this close. They were pretty from far away, too. Honestly, having Steve this close was probably rewiring something already broken in his brain. Having Steve’s hand on him like this was making his brain do somersaults trying to stay focused.
And then his hand was gone.
Eddie breathed in, breathed out.
“Sorry. I-” Steve shook his hands out and backed away. “Sorry.”
Eddie ignored whatever the fuck was happening in his stomach. It shouldn’t be happening so it isn’t, simple as that.
“Maybe you should ask your girlfriend if you’re so worried about her buying drugs.” Eddie should learn to shut his mouth at some point. “I only sell to the people who come to me first.”
“Yeah, yeah. I know. I remember.” Steve wiped his hand down his face. “Sorry again.”
Eddie looked him up and down, taking in the fact that he was genuinely apologizing. No one ever apologized for knocking him around, not even when it was on accident.
“You good?” He eventually asked.
“Yeah. Just, she’s been through a lot. I didn’t really want her to get pressured into buying something,” Steve sighed. “Has she come out of the band room yet? I’m supposed to bring her to work.”
“Uh, yeah man, everyone left an hour ago.”
Eddie watched Steve’s face fall as he checked his watch and must’ve realized the time.
“Shit. Okay. I must’ve lost track of time.”
Steve looked pitiful. Eddie’s seen dogs in alleys who looked less beaten down and neglected than Steve currently did.
“I can help you find her?” Eddie offered for some unknown reason.
Well, he knew the reason, but he was choosing to ignore it.
“She’s probably already at work. It’s my day off so I ended up getting distracted with something and didn’t realize it was so late,” Steve admitted, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck. “Thanks, though.”
Wayne liked to tell Eddie he was too nice to undeserving people. Lord knows he gave his dad too many chances and got let down every time. He even tried to be friends with Tommy Hagan in middle school because he could sense something was going on with Tommy’s dad much like his own.
But Eddie liked to remind Wayne that Eddie is often considered undeserving and he took him in and gave him multiple chances regardless.
“You wanna smoke?” Eddie asked, despite knowing he barely has anything left after the long week of midterms for students. His busiest times of year were right before school breaks, midterms, finals, and graduation weekend. He usually stocked up, but with Rick being in prison again, he had to try to stretch what he had out.
“Uh…smoke what?”
“Weed.” Then it hit Eddie that maybe Steve was into harder stuff. But he hadn’t ever even bought from him in high school. Tommy had, Carol had, almost everyone at his parties had, but Steve never did. “I have regular old cigs too if you prefer.”
“Yeah, man, cool,” Steve sighed with relief.
“I got a spot behind the cafeteria if you wanna…”
“Sure, yep, let’s go,” Steve nodded, gesturing towards the double doors that led outside to the cafeteria and auditorium buildings.
As they walked, Eddie’s mind raced with thoughts of being alone with Steve, Steve’s arm brushing against his, Steve pushing him against the wall of the cafeteria, of Eddie dropping to his knees and unbuttoning Steve’s pants and-
“I’m really sorry about what happened back there.”
Steve’s voice shook him from his thoughts, but his dick didn’t quite get the memo. When did he even start getting hard?
“No worries, dude.” His face scrunched in disgust at calling Steve dude. What was next, the bro pat on the back? A fist bump? “Kinda jealous of how protective you are of your girlfriend.”
Okay, actually, what the fuck? Eddie needed to shut his fucking face, right the fuck now.
“She’s not my girlfriend, but uh, I don’t think you’re really her type either,” Steve gave him a look, one Eddie knew well and one he couldn’t quite believe he was seeing on Steve’s face right now.
“Right, right.” Eddie wouldn’t make him say it, especially if it was actually the look he thought it was, but maybe he could offer a little something in return. “Yeah, she’s not really my type either.”
Steve stopped just before they reached the hidden area behind the dumpster and picnic table for staff to smoke.
“Really?” Steve’s eyes were wide. “So you’re more into…someone like…me?”
Eddie was actually leaking into his goddamn boxers. Why was he getting turned on just talking to Steve?
“That would be one way of saying it,” Eddie said. Still easy enough to back out of it, at least. Could just say he likes women who wear polos and use more hairspray than Melvald’s has ever carried at any given time.
“Huh,” Steve continued walking to the picnic table, sitting on top of it and kicking some dirt off the bench by his legs for Eddie to sit. “So those rumors were true?”
“That depends on if I’m gonna make it back home to my very loving uncle if I say yes.”
Steve rolled his eyes. “Obviously, I’m not gonna judge you about it when my best friend is-” He cut himself off and Eddie had to give him major credit. The Steve he used to know never would’ve cared if he outed someone, or at least never would have realized that was wrong. He coughed and then looked down at the bench. “You gonna sit?”
Eddie sat down on the bench, extremely close to Steve’s legs. Almost touching. Was that heat coming from his body or was Eddie just extremely warm?
“Did you actually wanna smoke or did you just wanna get out of the hall?” Steve asked after another minute of awkward silence.
“We can smoke.” Eddie reached into his pocket, hating how tight his jeans were in the front, and grabbed his lighter. His pack of cigarettes were usually stored in his van because he rarely smoked them, but luckily he’d brought them with him all week to sneak smokes between classes. He pulled one out and handed it to Steve.
He started to light his own when Steve leaned down, his face right next to Eddie’s, breath hot on his neck.
“You aren’t gonna light it for me?”
Eddie whimpered.
He would deny it a million times over if anyone asked. He almost had himself believing he imagined it.
But Steve laughed and backed away, pulling out his own lighter and giving Eddie a second to catch his breath.
What the fuck was that? Did Steve know he was making Eddie’s brain flatline?
He watched Steve take a long drag out of the corner of his eye, his mind shuffling between ‘what if he fucked me right here?’ and ‘get the hell away before your dick pops a hole in your jeans.’
Steve’s lips were so pink, and looked so soft, and just wet enough from licking his lips before taking the next drag, and Eddie was really going through it right now.
He’d gone through his Steve Harrington phase just like everyone else, thought it was over when he graduated. Had avoided the mall all summer when he heard he was working at Scoops so he didn’t have to see him in those tiny blue shorts. Had even gone so far as to avoid being around when the kids were being picked up from Hellfire because Dustin mentioned Steve was his ride.
Out of sight, out of mind.
Except for Eddie’s imagination was impressive, and his late night thoughts turned into very vivid scenes of Steve working him to the edge and making him beg, or pushing him against a locker and making him take his cock with barely any prep, or-
“Dude, anyone ever tell you you’re kinda space-y?” Steve’s voice once again lifted him from his thoughts, though he felt a bit hazy.
“Think I’m comin’ down with something,” Eddie squeaked out. All he was coming down with was a sickness deep in his chest: Harrington Heart-itis.
“Did you hit your head?” Steve sounded concerned now, setting his cigarette in the ashtray left on the table and moving so he had one leg on either side of Eddie. His fingers landed in Eddie’s hair, pulling his head closer and inspecting it for injury. “I didn’t think anything but your shoulders hit, but maybe-”
“No,” Eddie gulped. He should pull away. “Didn’t hit my head.”
Steve’s fingers tightened, not quite painfully, but enough of a bite to it that Eddie whimpered. Again.
Steve’s grip loosened, but his fingers stayed buried in his curls, and Eddie felt pressure guiding him to rest against Steve’s thigh.
“You eat today?” Steve asked, though his voice sounded kinda far away, like he was above the surface of the water and Eddie was sitting at the bottom of a pool looking up at the sun. “Eddie?”
“Hm?” Eddie blinked up at Steve. “I ate.”
“When?” Steve’s hand was cupping his cheek. “Lunch?”
“Mmm, no,” Eddie shook his head, blinked. “Breakfast? Cereal.”
Steve cursed under his breath.
He was so pretty. Had he been told how pretty he was? Surely when Nancy was with him, she told him.
Even if Robin liked women, she had to at least notice how pretty he was, right?
Steve’s sharp intake of breath somewhat centered Eddie.
“I’m gonna drive you home, okay?” Steve whispered, leaning down so his face was only inches away.
Eddie could kiss him. It would be the easiest thing in the world to lift his head the final two inches to make their lips meet.
“Eddie, eyes open,” Steve’s fingers tightened again, gaining Eddie’s full attention. “Should I call someone? Are you dynamic or something?”
Eddie’s brows furrowed. What did that even mean?
“Like the sugar thing?” Steve continued.
“Diabetic?” Eddie still felt a little hazy, but he was starting to come back to it with Steve’s hand migrating from his hair to his shoulder. “No, my sugar’s fine.”
“I’ve got some soda in my car. I can drive you home and then bring you to school in the morning. You probably shouldn’t drive like…this.”
It all came crashing down when Eddie realized how vulnerable he’d just been, how he’d actually lost track of time, not sure exactly how long he’d been sitting between Steve’s legs with his hands in his hair before he started coming back to earth. He stood up, maybe a bit too quickly, rocking a bit before finding his balance.
“Woah, take it easy.” Steve held his hands out, grasped his biceps to hold him steady. “You were pretty far out of it. Don’t rush it.”
How fucking embarrassing.
Eddie had only gone down that far one time with someone and they got freaked out when he was giggling and couldn’t walk on his own because his legs felt like jelly. But that had been on purpose. This was- Steve didn’t– Jesus Christ.
“I’m fine now.” Eddie was not fine. He knew what would happen if he left right now. Aftercare was a major part of this whether Steve was prepared for it or not. “Just, um, walk me to my van.”
Steve looked like a kicked puppy, but Eddie didn’t have the time to explain all of this to him.
Steve Harrington didn’t know how much of a freak Eddie was even if he did know he was gay. There’s no way Steve participated in any type of BDSM with the many girls he slept with in high school.
There was absolutely no fuckin’ way Nancy Wheeler let herself get tied to a bed and get fucked by Steve.
He shook his head at the thought.
“I’d feel a lot better if you let me drive you. I promise we don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” Steve sighed. “I just don’t know if you should drive when you went down so hard.”
“You have no idea what even happened,” Eddie argued, pacing back and forth. “I can drive. I just need to walk it off.”
“You don’t walk off subspace.”
Eddie froze. Steve was standing right in front of him now, concern in his big, stupid, adorable eyes.
“How do you even know about subspace?” Eddie whispered.
“I slept with half the high school and two guys in Indy. I know what subspace is, Eds.”
Eddie must still be in space. Or maybe another galaxy.
“Sorry, did you just say you slept with two guys in Indy?” Has Steve seriously fucked more guys than Eddie has? Eddie, the resident gay man of Hawkins, has only been with one man in his entire life and Steve has apparently slept with two?
“Well, I wasn’t gonna sleep with two men in Hawkins!” Steve threw his hands up before putting them on his hips. “I hit up a gay bar and didn’t realize it doubled as a BDSM club until I was already in it and then a nice guy showed me the ropes. Literally. There were ropes involved.”
Eddie snorted. Steve was pretty and funny. Great. Just what he needed.
“I have a quick recovery, so I’ll be fine to drive home,” Eddie tried, though even he could hear his voice still shaking.
“No one is that quick,” Steve wrapped an arm around his shoulders, tugging him into a hug. “Has that ever happened before?”
“Not like that.”
“We should probably talk about it.”
The last thing Eddie wanted to do was talk about how someone playing with his hair and moving his head around while showing the bare minimum of care was enough to send him into subspace, but he had a feeling Steve wasn’t gonna give up easily.
“Fine. What should we talk about? How no one ever touches me gently so the moment someone did, I slipped? How I’ve been avoiding seeing you anywhere in public because I knew it would make my crush come back full force? Oh, I know!” Eddie laughed hysterically as he pulled away. “Let’s talk about how I still think about you in your stupid basketball shorts when I’m fucking myself on four fingers, which is never enough because I can never reach the spot I need to. Or how I once cut out your yearbook photo to keep for jerking off material because my mags weren’t enough. Could even talk about how earlier I wanted you to put your leg between mine so I could rub off on you. Or maybe the weather if you’d prefer that.”
Eddie was panting, could feel the heat on his face rising as he realized everything he’d just said, admitted, to Steve.
He’d never said any of that out loud. Shit, he’d barely said most of it in his own head.
Steve’s arms were pulling him in and Eddie let himself have it, let himself feel small for just a moment. If Steve wasn’t completely disgusted by what he said, then he would at least accept this offering of kindness for now.
They stayed like that for a while, long enough that Eddie started to wonder if he could just live here, right in Steve’s arms.
“It’s looking a little cloudy,” Steve said quietly, hands still rubbing Eddie’s back slowly.
“What?” Eddie still felt a little out of it, but that was entirely out of left field.
“You said we could talk about the weather.”
Eddie snorted. “Oh my God, you’re so-” Eddie looked up at Steve, who was smiling down at him. He felt off-kilter, being the object of that particular Steve look. “Stupid.”
It was fond, probably too fond for someone who needed to protect himself from whatever the hell was happening. He needed to shut this down.
“It’s been mentioned,” Steve’s eyes flickered down to Eddie’s lips, then back up to his eyes. “You good to head out?”
Eddie started to nod, but stopped.
This was his only chance. He wasn’t dumb enough to think he’d ever be alone with Steve again. If he was gonna kick start a spiral over feelings, he might as well go all out.
He stood at his full height, almost eye level with Steve, and leaned in.
The kiss was not even close to perfect. In fact, as far as kisses go, it was probably in the bottom three for Steve. Eddie chose not to think about how he screwed it all up.
But once the initial shock wore off, and Eddie put his teeth away, Steve’s hand cupped Eddie’s cheek and he licked past his lips.
Leave it to Steve to turn this around, make it something worth the risk.
Their lips moved in sync, both of them deepening the kiss without making it too wet, too filthy for a public space.
It was, dare he say, romantic.
Most kisses Eddie had managed to have were dirty and rough, hidden away in dark bars and alleyways, not exactly prime teen romance.
Of course Steve was good at this, of course he made Eddie melt against him, and of course Eddie was going to start writing hearts around Steve’s name in his notebook as if they were high school sweethearts.
When they pulled apart, it took him a minute to open his eyes. How stereotypical.
Steve was already looking at him, softer than he probably deserved.
“You’re pretty good at that,” Eddie breathed out.
“It’s been mentioned.” Steve’s lips turned up in a smirk before he pulled away completely. “Let’s go.”
They walked back through the school, stopping at Eddie’s locker to grab one of his textbooks as if he actually would use it. By now, he didn’t really need the textbooks to get his work done. And he was actually committed to getting it done this time around.
They were quiet as they continued out to the parking lot, only a few cars belonging to teachers left, maybe a few students stuck here for football or basketball practice. Steve’s car was towards the back, but Eddie’s was almost all the way in the grass field by the main road. It was less risky leaving it further away, less likely that anyone would slash the tires or key the side.
“You’re sure you can drive?” Steve asked as they stood outside his car.
“Yeah. Only five minutes to the trailer. It’ll be fine.” Eddie shrugged like it was nothing, but he was actually a little worried the kiss set him too off balance to focus on the road. Fuck the subspace, Steve’s lips were like discovering a new galaxy.
“Can I call you later? To check on you?” Steve seemed hesitant to ask.
“Uh, yeah? Do you…have my number?”
Steve shook his head, opening the door to his car and reaching into the glovebox to find a pen and an old receipt. As Eddie wrote down the number to the trailer, he thought about how much worse this would be tomorrow, how shitty it would be to have had this absolutely out of this world experience with the one person he never thought he could and then be left with scraps for the rest of his life.
“You uh, you don’t have to call, man. Don’t feel pressured. My uncle will be home so it’s not like I’ll be alone.”
Steve took the paper and pen back, folding the paper and putting it in his pocket and throwing the pen back into the car.
“I’m gonna call.” Steve moved a piece of Eddie’s hair from in front of his face. “You got a phone in your room?”
“No, but the one we have reaches to the bathroom?” Why the hell did he need one in his room?
“Good. Need you to be alone.”
“Steve, what the hell does that mean?”
“How else am I supposed to tell you what I wanna do to you?”
Well, fuck.
Day two: ao3 | tumblr
563 notes · View notes
uhohdad · 3 months
Note
Drabble requests?? If you would be so kind to humor me then-
Could there be like... soft and kind könig? Maybe just really gentle and domestic cause a while back i saw someone make headcanons of him being like a really mean guy and like all to them for sure!
But I was having a bit of a bad delusional day and könig is one of my attachments and seeing it made me so so sad and a bit paranoid cause like! Thats my partner! He wouldn't be like that!
So uh. Maybe just really soft comforting könig? If thats ok? Cause despite it being a few days now I still can't shake it and I feel bad over it :( hes such a silly but really good comfort for me. Big Austrian man ♡
Anyway if its no trouble then thank you! If not then its alright! Take care ok? ♡♡♡
for you my sweet beautiful anon? anything. i know könig would treat you like his liege ♡
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Köni💕: ‘How s work?’
Liebling: ‘:(‘
Köni💕: ‘o no, what happenbed?’
Liebling: ‘nothing. just nervous and weird. per usual lmao. 🙃’
Köni💕: ‘ill make u feel better when u get home’
Liebling: ‘:’)’
The aroma hits like a wave as you push the front door open, your mouth watering and tummy grumbling at the smell alone.
“Meine Prinzessin,” König calls as you set your bags down with a heavy thunk, “Did your day get better?”
“Just now,” You say, palm flush with the wall to support yourself as you kick off your shoes, “Whatever you’re doing in there, it’s art.”
“Your favorite,” he says proudly, a bit of a tune in his tone.
A giddy, mischievous giggle leaves you.
“Comfy clothes on the bed,” He adds.
You give a soft little whine, because it’s just too sickeningly sweet how he dotes on you.
After changed and settled, he’ll serve you your plate, listening intently as you vent about all the little things that have been bothering you lately.
“And, I don’t know. I know I shouldn’t feel this way, but I can’t-”
You sigh before continuing, “Sometimes I have this stupid voice in my brain, and it just tells me that you don’t actually like me, and I’m just not good enough for you. I know it’s not true, but it still gets to me, sometimes. Y’know?”
You look at him, faced pinched and a hand rubbing the back of your neck.
“I have the same stupid voice,” He says, those hooded blue eyes trained carefully in you, “But know little one, I love you more than anything.”
You pinch your nose at him, but you still have to fold your smile, cheeks warm and bunched.
“I love you more than anything, too,” You say sheepishly to your plate, tone soft as your fork absentmindedly plays with your food.
Once tummies are full and plates cleared away, König herds you to the couch, draping you with a cozy blanket. He fixes you a tea before joining you, happily letting you rest your head on his thigh. He’ll tolerate your silly little comfort movie without complaint, stroking your hair, playing with the soft locks. He doesn’t dare move after you ensnare him by falling asleep, snoring softly into his leg long after your half-drunk tea has gone cold. ♡
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♡gentle!könig
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seokgyuu · 1 year
Note
hello mitchie beloved 🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️ how abt joshua and consensual free use/somnophilia <3 i'm in dire straits rn and i actually need to get used by this man for his own pleasure 24/7 🫶 /hj
++ hugs and kisses for being one of the sweetest people ever actually !!
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A/N: kai, my beloved! i hope this is to your liking! thanks for the request, i loved writing it!! sending you love and hugs and kisses back <3
PAIRING: Joshua x Fem!Reader
GENRE: Smut MDNI!
WARNINGS: free use/somnophilia, fingering, unprotected sex, degradation (usage of the word slut) creampie
WORDCOUNT: 1.4k
Request are open! Check out my 1k special!
Smut under the cut
the thought of your boyfriend using you for his own pleasure has always been one that extremely excited you. joshua was sweet, a true angel most of the time. funny and kind and always trying to make you feel good, to take care of your needs before his own. for the longest time you felt almost ashamed of wanting him to use you whenever he wanted, but at some point you decided that the worst thing that could happen would be him saying he wasn’t really into that. and you’d be fine because it wasn’t like your sex life wasn’t fulfilling enough. 
what you had not expected was him growing beet red, his eyes wide in something like shock when you tell him. he is baffled, speechless really. and it takes him a few minutes to regain his composure. you smile at him, caress his hand and reassure him that it is just a thought. he is not obligated to act on your wish if he doesn’t feel comfortable. when he asks you what exactly you mean when you say whenever he wants, your answer makes him swallow. it makes his cock twitch in his underwear. it makes his mind go wild with thoughts he normally wouldn’t allow himself to have. you were his princess, his everything, so precious and good. you deserved to be pampered, to be treated like a queen. never would he ever allow himself to… but now this. now you’re telling him you want him to use you and it begins a process in his brain. 
a few days go by and you think joshua might just not be into it. and you’re cool with that. you go through your day as you usually do until one evening you come home from work and joshua is sitting at the dining table with his laptop and work notes scattered around. he looks up at you when you enter the room and gets up, his ears as red as his face a few days ago.
“baby,” he begins, his hands finding your hips and he kisses you once, twice, before placing his forehead against yours. 
“josh, what is it?” you ask, worried, one of your hands cupping his cheek. he licks his lips.
“what we discussed the other day… about me and you and…,” he looks at you and you know what he means, a small smile on your lips as you nod.
“well i was thinking … do you- do you really mean it when you say i can use you when you’re asleep?” 
your eyebrows shoot up in surprise, but you are quick to nod. just the thought of it alone makes your cunt clench. 
“yes, honey, i mean it. i really… really would love for you to use me when i’m sleeping, or… any time at all, really. just want you to feel good, joshy.” 
your sultry voice and the way you look at him almost make him bend you over the table, doing as you wish right there. but there is still a report he needs to finish and so he just nods, kissing your cheek with a semi hard cock in his pants before sitting back down. 
he lays awake that night while you’re sound asleep. he had been worried you might not be able to sleep after what you’d discussed but here you are now. soft and cute snores proving you are really gone, one hand tucked under your cheek while the other lays flatly on the mattress. you are laying on your side, your backside turned to joshua and he contemplates. his cock has been hard for hours he feels. his heart is beating rapidly, even echoing in his ears and he thinks back to the words you had said a few days ago as well as tonight. you want him to use you. want him to feel good. so you would definitely be okay if he-
he finds himself pressed against your ass five seconds later. his cock is right there between your cheeks, still behind his boxers, but, god, does it feel good. he moans quietly, one hand moving to the front of you, touching your tit over your (his) sleep shirt. he wonders if your nipple will harden when you touch it. another moan escapes his throat when it does. he lets his hand slide underneath your shirt, thumb and index twirling your nipple, his cock growing even harder against your backside. he kisses the back of your neck, licks the spot underneath your ear and finally moves to touch you between your legs. 
joshua loves your pussy. loves it so much he literally can’t get enough of it. ever since your first conversation about this topic, he hadn’t touched you, so he’s a little scared of coming sooner than later. still, he feels your folds underneath your panties, letting a finger get coated in your juices to eventually push it inside, your tight walls clenching around him right away. he groans again, beginning to rock his hips against your ass, the friction making his eyes roll back. he ruts against you, free hand getting his cock out to actually feel your skin against his hard length and, fuck, it feels heavenly. he soon adds another finger, stretching your cunt open, letting it get adjusted before he’d finally sink into you and fuck you until he filled you to the brim. 
“so good for me even when asleep… my perfect princess,” he whispers, softly shoving you onto your stomach, leaving your cunt open for him to access. he licks his lips, lets his hand pump his cock a few times, before finally pulling out his fingers and replacing them with his leaking cock. 
the moan he lets out when he feels you around him almost wakes you up. just almost. your body reacts accordingly to what is happening - your pussy sucking him in as it always does, dripping onto the sheets as if your subconscious knows how fucking hot you find this. it probably does. joshua bottoms out, his hands are on either side of you, his hips rutting against your ass, cock now going in and out of your pussy in a speed that has him see stars. 
“f-fucking hell, such a good, perfect pussy, sh-shit,” he can’t keep his voice or his noises down and it doesn’t come as a surprise that you wake up with arousal shaking your whole body, all sleepiness gone within mere seconds. you cry out, your hands gripping the bed sheets as your cunt clenches around joshua’s cock over and over again.
“j-josh!” you whimper and he looks down at your face, sees your eyes staring at him, the hotness radiating from you. something inside of him shifts and his angelic demeanor disappears once and for all as he moves one hand to push your head into the mattress, his thrusts getting harder.
“such a slut, wants to get used like a toy doesn’t she? wants her cunt to be nothing but a cumrag, wants to wake up in the morning with it still dripping out of her, fuck,” he hears your cries against the mattress, feels you coming on his cock, the waves of pleasure almost getting him off the edge too.
“o-oh my god- j-josh, don’t stop!” you know there is more, know he can make you come at least one more time and joshua picks up his pace again, letting off your head and instead wrapping his arm around you to press his thumb down on your clit, your whole body jerking as you arch your back.
“what a good slut i got myself, such a good filthy slut, isn’t that right?” his eyes can’t stay open anymore, his hips moving at an uncontrollable speed and the second you cry out that, yes, you are nothing but a filthy slut, his cum shoots out his cock and into you, his moans music to your ears as he gets you over the edge once more, fucking the both of you through your orgasms. 
josh collapses on top of you, heavy breath against your ear and you feel sweat rolling down your forehead. your pussy is still pulsating around his softening cock and joshua jerks forward once again, kissing your neck.
“you’re incredible,” he mumbles against your skin and you chuckle, turning your head so you could see him a little better.
“i know,” you grin back and joshua laughs before pulling out of you and going back to his angelic self, walking to the bathroom to get you a warm wet cloth to clean yourself up.
1K notes · View notes
eggedbellies · 6 months
Note
Dragon that doesn’t want to hurt your fragile still-human body by giving you a clutch so early into your transformation so it will only fuck your ass. It bloats your guts with cum until you look like you’re pregnant, accelerating the transformation that started when you took your first breath of dragonsmoke. The skin of your belly stretches, your transformation being shaped so your dragon form is one of a clutchbearer-fuckhole, a high capacity vessel for other dragons’ seed and eggs. 1
Every day you beg for a clutch and get your ass filled instead - at least you get to jerk off with a big, cum swollen belly even if you’re not really knocked up - but one day you notice that your belly hasn’t gone empty-soft the way it usually does. It feels like there’s something hard inside. The dragon fucks you again and the next day it feels like there’s more in you. 2 After the third fuck leaves a visible bulge, you ask the dragon to feel your belly, the strange weight and hardness in your womb. You’re only halfway through your transformation, scales still sparse and soft, tail at half length, wings still small and needing to be tucked away to avoid damage to the delicate bones when you’re not stretching them to develop the muscle. This shouldn’t be happening, wouldn’t be if you had only been taking the smoke, but you’ve been so assiduous in begging and 3 the dragon has been so assiduous in fucking you that the transformation has followed your wishes and happened womb-first. Now every fuck stimulates your body to form another egg in your womb. The dragon tries not to cum even in your ass, but it doesn’t matter. Your belly bulges out more even without penetration. The sensation of being mounted and covered is enough to trigger your hyper-sensitive, hyper-fertile body, conditioned through every transformative fuck to make you the perfect 4 broodmother. As the eggs collect, you wonder if they’re viable and how long the dragon will be able to resist the longing it voices with its claws digging into your belly to cover them in seed and see you bulge with fertilized eggs, a clutch that will grow with as much cum as it can soak in before the eggs fully harden. Your transformation is progressing rapidly, but so is the growth of your belly and the dragon’s frantic lust. 5 How big will you already be, how many eggs will have swollen your womb, when it decides you’re dragon enough to be allowed to finally lay? 6 end
Anon \i have been hoardinf gthis ask for so long bc when i read this story my brain would turn into mush anfd i wouldnt be able to cope.
but now everyone gets to read it
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junrenjun · 5 months
Text
Gone
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alpha!wonwoo x beta!reader (mentioned ot13 x reader)
genre: angst, fluff (wow are we sensing a trend here?)
wc: 1897
warnings: mentions of arguments, implications of violence (jokingly), slightly suggestive at the end, polyamory
summary: wonwoo and the pack return to the apartment after practice to a sulking seungcheol and a missing y/n.
a/n: here's wonwoo's part! you can start to see some hints of reader and the pack's past, especially with wonwoo and seungcheol. enjoy :)
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Wonwoo was, to put it quite plainly, tired. Exhausted even. Today’s schedule had them learning two completely new dances and his brain kept getting them mixed up. Don’t get him wrong, he loves the performance unit and respects their choreographers, but they might have been a little in over their heads. 
As they finished the last hour of rehearsal, he couldn’t keep his eyes off the clock. He was counting down the minutes until he could go home and bask in the presence of his beta. Maybe it was due to the fact that Wonwoo’s rut was set to hit within the next few weeks, but he felt the need to be around you 24/7. To the point where you told him that he was becoming a “grade A clinger.” He couldn’t quite bring himself to care though, you were taking the affection in stride. It was a clear improvement from when he first integrated you into the pack. 
The alpha shook his head to bring him back to the present, right as the choreographers finally cleared the group to head home for the day. Wonwoo doesn’t think he’s ever packed his practice bag faster. Vernon seems to take notice of this. “You good bro?”
Wonwoo doesn’t even look up as he shoves a hoodie over his head. “Yeah, I just can’t wait to get home.”
He sees Vernon’s lips curl into a smirk from the corner of his eye. “So you can whisk y/n away to your room and keep her to yourself for the night? The rest of us would like a little time too. Nice sweatshirt by the way.”
A scent that is clearly not his own invades his senses. He looks down and curses. This hoodie is definitely not his. How did Mingyu’s sweatshirt even get into his bag in the first place? Remembering Vernon’s first comment, Wonwoo finally looks up at his packmate. “I don’t steal her.”
Vernon snorts and mumbles out a “whatever you say dude,” before turning on his heel to go bother Seungkwan. Shocker. Wonwoo resists the urge to roll his eyes. His packmate’s words start to take effect though because he’s pulling out his phone and texting you.
“You can tell me if my clinginess gets too much you know? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or steal you away from the rest of the pack.”
He sends the message before shoving his phone in his (Mingyu’s) pocket. The rest of the pack is slowly making their way to the door, so he follows suit. As they sluggishly head to the vans, he observes his mates. Junhui and Minghao are conversing in Mandarin, Vernon has his arm over Seungkwan’s shoulder and is attached to him like a leech, and Jeonghan is typing away on his phone.
He feels his own phone ping in his pocket and rushes to grab it, hoping you had responded. He deflates when he realizes it’s just Jeonghan, who must have been texting the group chat when he looked over.
“Getting Japanese for dinner. If you want something, say what you want now or forever hold your peace.”
The group chat instantly explodes with everyone’s orders. Wonwoo quickly sends what he wants but frowns when he realizes neither you nor Seungcheol have responded. He tries to brush it off but it’s difficult. He knows that your phone barely leaves your side. 
He purposefully climbs into the seat next to Jeonghan when they get into the van. The omega raises a questioning eyebrow at him. He knows that Wonwoo prefers sitting by Jun and Minghao on the way home after a long day. It is usually the quietest after all.
“What’s wrong?” Jeonghan finally questions.
Wonwoo bites his lip. He’s really questioning himself now that he has to voice his concerns out loud. Is he being overdramatic? Is this just him being a clingy alpha in almost pre-rut? Might as well just get it out he supposes. He knows the pack omega won’t make fun of him. “Have you heard from y/n? I texted her earlier and she hasn’t responded. And then you asked for everyone’s dinner orders and she and Cheol didn’t respond.”
The alpha perks up when Jeonghan responds. “I was kind of worried too. I texted him like 30 minutes ago asking what he wanted for dinner. Never responded so I just decided on the Japanese place he likes. I figured he was sleeping or something, I don’t know. It’s weird that y/n hasn’t responded yet though.”
The omega doesn’t even finish what he’s saying before Wonwoo is clicking your contact and calling you. The phone rings for what feels like an eternity. And then, he hears your voicemail greeting. Fuck, something is wrong. He can feel it.
Jeonghan feels Wonwoo’s uneasiness from his side. He reaches out and runs his hand through the alpha’s hair, murmuring something about how it’s only a few minutes until they get home and that they would figure it out together. Wonwoo isn’t sure he’s actually going to survive these next few minutes without imploding, though. 
After the longest 5 minutes of his life, Wonwoo yanks the van door open and races to the pack’s apartment. He’s slightly comforted by his pack omega’s presence hot on his heels. At least he knows he’s not a delusional, overbearing alpha for worrying like this. Jeonghan steps in front of him to unlock the front door and Wonwoo releases an audible whine. Your scent hits him like a truck and it smells like stress. You’re distressed and he’s not there to calm you down. What a horrible, terrible alpha his mind tells him.
He and Jeonghan step into the entrance, the rest of the pack finally catching up and throwing questioning shouts into the air. Wonwoo immediately goes to search for you when his mate throws his arm out to stop him. “She’s not here hyung.”
Wonwoo’s eyes practically bulge out of his skull. “What do you mean?”
The omega points to the shoe rack by the door. Your shoes are gone, and in their spot, sit your usual house slippers. Seungcheol’s, however, sit undisturbed. Jeonghan turns and heads straight for the pack alpha’s room, leaving Wonwoo to fend for himself when the pack immediately begins to question him. 
The alpha offers no response, sitting down at the kitchen table and sending a location request to your phone, hoping and praying you send something back. The others seem to take the hint and disperse until everything works out. He hears Jeonghan call out to him from Seungcheol’s room. “I don’t think he knows where y/n is at.”
Wonwoo sighs. “I just requested her location. I’m hoping that she has her phone on her and can respond. If not, I’m not sure what to do.”
Jeonghan responds. “Well she’s always on that damn phone, so hopefully she’ll send her location back soon enough.”
The scent of angry alpha lingering in the kitchen has Wonwoo freezing in his tracks as he catches a whiff. It’s not just angry alpha, it’s angry Seungcheol. Something definitely happened between you two. Knowing his stubborn pack alpha, some sort of argument. 
Wonwoo wanted to scream at Seungcheol. Let him hear every nasty word that comes to mind. But he couldn’t. Not when you were unaccounted for, and, based on the silence coming from his room, the alpha is already beating himself up over whatever happened.
The sound of a text notification rouses him from his thoughts. You had finally responded with your location. Wonwoo can’t help but slap himself on the forehead when he sees where you’re at. Of course you’re at the cafe that you first met him and Seungcheol at.
He’s quick to rush to the door, grabbing an extra coat as he knows you probably didn’t grab one for yourself. He forwards your location to Jeonghan and is taking the stairs two at a time down to the street level. 
The wind is bitterly cold, but at this point, Wonwoo doesn’t think he can really feel it. Though he does sigh in relief when he steps through the entrance of the cafe. Whether that be because of the warmth or because he’s spotted you near the back, at a table he remembers all too well. You’re lying your emotions out for him to see without even saying anything. 
He walks right up to you and hands you the coat (which he now mistakenly realizes is Seungcheol’s) without a word. You take it from him, putting it on regardless of the owner’s scent, and get up to leave. The silence is heavy as you walk back to the apartment. He’ll take your silence over your absence any day though.
Eventually, you slow down and give Wonwoo’s hand a squeeze to signal him to stop walking. He pulls you off to the side and out of the way of the other pedestrians. “What’s wrong?” he questions after a moment.
You look at him from between your lashes. His heart sinks a bit. “Why can’t I do the one thing my subgender was made to do?”
He’s taken aback. “What are you even talking about?”
You look away from him shamefully. “A beta is supposed to be the neutral party in a pack. Someone who can resolve problems or whatever. I feel like all I do is cause problems.”
This is odd coming from y/n “fuck subgender stereotypes” of the Choi pack, which is probably the most unconventional pack to walk this planet. You’re not one to care for comparing someone’s behavior to their designation. 
He sighs when he remembers that an argument between you and Seungcheol is most likely the reason this whole ordeal happened in the first place. “If Cheol made you feel like this I’m going to bash his skull in.”
Wonwoo could’ve caught the eye roll you gave him from a mile away. “That’s a great idea Woo. Murdering your pack alpha.”
Curse you for your defense mechanism being sarcasm. “I’m just saying. And the rest of the pack would probably back me up too.”
Another eye roll. He thinks your eyes are going to get permanently stuck if you keep that up. His sassy little beta, a small voice says in the back of his brain. Ok, his rut is definitely coming early if those are thoughts he’s getting while having a serious conversation.
While he’s trying to clear that thought from his head, you tug on his hand and starting leading him back to the apartment. You can feel his quizzical stare, so you turn around and say, “come on Woo, I’ve got a pack alpha to apologize to. Then maybe you won’t bash his skull in.”
It’s his turn to roll his eyes and groan. Yeah, you’re definitely the one causing problems like you claimed a minute ago. Damn, your sarcasm is really rubbing off on him. 
You turn around again and do a double take at the sweatshirt he has on. You look up with a practically shit eating grin. “Nice hoodie by the way.” He’s going to have to have a talk with you about planting his packmates' clothes in his bag. You’re probably doing it so he smells like pack. Little minx. Damn, he really needs to get laid because what is going on with these dirty thoughts.
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its-time-to-write · 1 year
Note
Can you write a Jamie Tartt request where he and the reader are in the "between lovers and friends stage" and they finally get together when he has her sleepover at his place after finding out her ex was loitering by her apartment?
I’m alive (mostly!) and I’m starting to go through the asks in my inbox again! Sorry to all y’all who have been waiting. I love you!😇😍
p.s. I’ve been obsessed with the song “Margaret” by LDR, which is where the title comes from
(oh also I barely responded to this prompt so that I could write this dumb fic that’s been on my brain forever. so. apologies for that too)
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maybe tomorrow you’ll know
It goes like this: boy meets girl, they go to the same primary school, girl kicks around football with boy and sneaks into his room to hug him when his dad’s a prick, boy moves away to become a Premier League footballer and girl cries her heart out because they’re best friends.
Fucking typical.
And yet, he still picks up every phone call. Still answers every text you send. He’ll never say the word “love,” especially not when he’s with Keeley Jones and their faces are all over tabloids and instagram. But you’ll feel it in the way he’s a prick to everyone but you. It’s in the way his voice goes soft when you call him at 2am crying about being dumped by your first boyfriend.
He doesn’t visit, doesn’t phone his mum, but he’ll send you a quick voice message when he can. Usually not saying much, just a snip about training. First it’s all about Pep and the lads at Man City, then it’s about some gaffer named Cartrick and the fact that he’s teammates with Roy fucking Kent.
Jamie never tells you that Roy absolutely fucking hates him, but you know anyway.
Jamie also doesn’t call you when Keeley breaks up with him. In fact, you don’t even find out about it until pictures of Roy and Keeley surface online. You call him as soon as you can, and in typical Jamie fashion, he picks up on the second ring. 
You don’t ask him about Keeley, just let him talk about football and the new manager from America, and the fact that maybe Richmond isn’t so bad and maybe he can let his armor down just a little bit.
He’s sent back to Manchester the next day.
The bonds of childhood friendship run strong, because he’s on your doorstep in no time at all, and though it’s been years since you’ve seen him in person, there’s a part of you that feels like he never left. 
It never goes beyond friendship with you two. You don’t allow yourself to consider him in any other light because this friendship is special and important and neither of you will let anything ruin it.
It’s so strange sometimes to see him on tv or in an interview, eyes sharp and mouth full of barbs. Always on the offensive, always cutting others down before they have a chance to do the same to him. You have a hard time believing it’s the same boy who’s on your couch staring at the ceiling as he fiddles with the hem of his sweatshirt.
He’s never spoken that way to you, and you have a hard time believing he ever will.
So you feed him and make him smile and go to as many matches as you can (he leaves tickets on your kitchen table so you won’t protest) and give him a house key so he can come and go as he pleases.
But then he’s gone again, it’s the off-season and he’s on some tv show and you’re watching him flirt and seduce and pull at people’s heartstrings like they’re marionettes, and you realize (perhaps for the first time) how deep the damage has gone.
He gets absolutely shredded online, called all sorts of names by fans of the show and football alike, and you wonder if you’re the only one who can see what’s happening. That it’s all a show and that person, that Jamie Tartt on the screen is not the Jamie Tartt who used to throw pebbles at your window to come see if you wanted to ride bikes together.
It’s different than when he went to the Premier League. He doesn’t answer your texts.
It’s fine though, because your life doesn’t revolve around him. You have other, real friends and a boyfriend and a nice little flat and a good job. So he can go do what he wants and when he needs someone to pick up the pieces, you’ll go because you understand that sometimes this friendship is a one-way street. 
You miss him, though.
You don’t watch his season of Lust Conquers All until your boyfriend calls you and says, “Hey, it’s been fun, but I’m just not feeling it anymore, thanks for understanding,” and then you binge every episode right up to the current one. 
So now you don’t have a boyfriend. You’re glad it hadn’t gone too far, but his words still stung. But you drown your feelings in ice cream and shitty tv and it’s alright because another episode airs in an hour, so you can see more of Jamie and hope he’s doing okay.
He’s not. He gets voted off and you think that’s stupid but also maybe a little bit good.
Jamie just thinks it’s stupid. He’s kicked off his only lifeline, and then Man City flat-out refuses to take him back and he has to find out on live television for fuck’s sake. And then he has the brilliant idea to ask Ted Lasso to come back, because of course Ted will take him, what with his yeehaw can-do bullshit. Except Ted tells him no, and now he has nothing.
He’s cut out every friend, every family member and is resigned to life as a has-been before he’s even twenty-five years old.
Now, he’s at home with the blinds pulled. He’s not even sure what time it is anymore because it’s all meaningless, innit? So when there’s a knock at the door, he has to blink a couple times from his place on the couch before turning off FIFA and going to see who it could possibly be.
He hopes it’s you, even though he knows there’s no way. Not after he ghosted you for months. He ignores the uncomfortable flip-flop in his stomach at the thought of seeing you, and the way his heart beats a little faster when he thinks of holding you. 
He won’t cross that line. Your friendship (if it still exists) is too important. 
So he opens the door, ready to see who the fuck is bothering him. 
It’s Ted.
Ted asks, “Can I come in?” but he’s obviously not going to accept no as an answer, so Jamie steps back to let him inside.
Ted’s just standing awkwardly in Jamie’s kitchen, not even pretending that he isn’t shocked by Jamie’s decor. 
Jamie isn’t going to defend his choices to Ted of all people. Nor is he going to do anything to lessen his awkwardness. Finally, Ted clears his throat and says, “Well Jamie, it seems we need to revisit our last conversation.”
Jamie stares at him, refusing to speak until he’s sure what Ted is saying, so Ted continues. 
“I think I was a little bit too hasty when I said you couldn’t come back to Richmond. I’ve been giving it some thought, and we’d love to have you back.”
Jamie looks at Ted, all rumpled in his sweatshirt and shorts, hair as undone as it’s ever been, and is supremely unsure of what he’s supposed to say. 
Yeah, I’ll come back to Richmond. 
Fuck off, you’re too late.
He’s saved from saying something stupid by the sound of the front door rattling as someone punches in the code. 
“You expectin’ someone?” Ted asks. 
Jamie shakes his head, equally puzzled. “No one has the code, except-”
The door is shoved open and you burst through in a flurry of motion. You call, “Jamie?” but you can already see him in the kitchen so you make a beeline to his location and launch yourself into his arms. 
He’s solid as always, smelling like day-old Lynx. His arms are tight wrapped around you, body warm as you press your cheek against his. 
He sets you down after a moment, and brushes away a stray strand of hair from your face. 
“What’re you doing here?” he asks softly, still not quite letting you go. Ted notes that this is a new tone for Jamie. Or at least, the Jamie he’s interacted with. It’s not a performance, not something designed to make people love or hate him, it’s what Ted suspects is the most authentic version of Jamie. Whoever you are, you must be important. 
“Wanted to make sure you were ok. I saw your interview.”
Jamie makes a face. “Fuck’s sake, has everyone seen that shit?”
You shrug. “Hard to miss it. Your mum sent it to me. She’s kind of why I’m here, actually.”
“You know Jamie’s mom?” Ted asks, surprised. It’s only then that you notice he’s in the room. Your face heats up because you wouldn’t have been that grabby with Jamie had you known he weren’t alone.
“Hi, I’m Ted,” he says reaching out to shake your hand, “Seems to me like you know this one from a while back.”
“Uh, yeah,” you reply. “Which is why I figured something was wrong when he ghosted me for fucking ever.”
Jamie winces and Ted takes his cue. 
“I’ll leave you two to catch up,” he says. He points a finger at Jamie. “You let me know what you decide, son.”
“It’s a yes, Coach,” Jamie calls as Ted heads out the door. You crane your neck in time to see Ted pump his fist in the air before the door shuts behind him. 
“So,” you say, arms crossed, “you have a big fucking excuse for not answering my calls. But you better never fucking do it again, or I’m showing back up here with Georgie and she’ll kick your ass.” 
Jamie grimaces. Sure, Georgie was never violent with him, but there’s something particularly terrifying about the way she says Jamie Tartt you have got some explaining to do, while her eyes do that thing where they flash and stare straight into his soul. 
“Right, yeah, I’m really sorry,” he says and he’s lucky that his tone backs up his words because if he had one ounce of prick in his voice, you’d make him really sorry. I mean come on, who ignores their family?
The thought passes through your mind just long enough for it to freak you out before Jamie’s tentatively reaching out to hug you again. 
You let him rest his head on your shoulder as you scratch his the back of his head. 
You’ve been on Jamie’s couch for the better part of two hours, talking and letting him pretend like he’s not on the verge of tears because at least he’s being open and honest for once, when he shoots up and says, “Jesus Christ, fucking Kyle.”
He turns to you, eyes wide as he asks, “Isn’t he gonna wonder where you are? Shit, and you’re with me. He’s not gonna like that shit at all.”
You shrug infinitesimally while you examine a spot on the wall. 
“We’re not together anymore,” you answer as casually as possible. 
Jamie sighs and settles back onto the couch. “Shit. Glad you finally dumped that prick.”
You glare at him. “I didn’t. He dumped me. And then I found him lurking in my fucking bushes yesterday like a total creeper.”
Jamie’s up again off the couch, this time heading for his car keys as he yells, “For fuck’s sake, love, you should’ve called me.”
“I did!” you shout back. “I did, and you didn’t pick up, did you? Anyway, it’s probably not going to be an issue anymore.”
Jamie returns to the living room, face ashen. “Shit. Fuck. Fucking shit. I’m so sorry.”
You shrug and say, “It’s not a big deal. He decided that he liked certain body parts he owned more than he liked intimidating me. 
Jamie grips his keys so hard that his knuckles turn white as he says, “Right, you’re sleeping over tonight because no one fucking treats my girl that way.”
Then he freezes. 
You’re not frozen, because a single shiver has worked its way up your spine. 
My girl.
It came out so naturally. 
And it implied ownership? But of the mutual sort? And in a way that two best friends simply did notbelong together. 
The entire house is so silent, you swear you can hear Jamie blink. Well, that is, if either of you actually moved a muscle as opposed to staring at each other across the room. 
“What-” you start, but your throat is all weird and tight, so you clear it and try again. “What did you say?”
It still comes out much lower than you anticipated and Jamie has a split second to assess your body language and make a choice. 
You’re fully angled toward him, eyes wide. You’re not giving him a look that says, shut the fuck up right now, Jamie Tartt, so he takes it as permission. 
Permission to take one step closer, then another, then another until he’s standing right next to you. He slowly sinks down on the couch next to you as his says in a low, gravely voice, “I said, ‘no one fucking treats my girl that way.’”
Ah. So this is where over a decade of friendship has gotten you. On Jamie Tartt’s couch as your lips crash against his, both wondering why you hadn’t made a move sooner. 
But it doesn’t matter, you’re here now and you’re sure you won’t waste a single second. 
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dontbesoweirdkira · 7 months
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Kung Lao yandere headcanons
Warnings: Yandere (obsessive and toxic themes) just cute little mentions of gore and murder blah blah blahhhhhhh…kung Lao being a little bitch. (Kinda inserted my fiancé as Kung Lao so if the personality is off…no it isn’t they are literally the same exact person🤞)
Requests: only for Yandere Kung Lao, Shang tsung, raiden and Johnny Cage mk11/mk1/X
General Yandere Headcanons
Kung lao has been fond of you from the beginning. You were always very open and welcoming towards him. Never once did you ever make fun of his hat or ever compare himself with Liu Kang like many many others.
Whenever he messed up or didn’t quite match up with his counterpart, you would encourage him and remind him of all he has to offer and that one small fail shouldn’t break him. You were the best friend Kung Lao could ever ask for.
As much as he’d hate to admit, he was desperate for this kind of special attention. He needed to be loved and praised, he needed to be better than all the other competitors. He especially needs to be better than Liu Kang…
After seeing him train harder than ever this past year for the next tournament, you turned to him and said..
“You know what? I honestly think you’re a far better fighter than Liu Kang at this point, and I wish more people could see that. It kind of irks me how Raiden doesn’t believe in you like he does Liu.”
Anyone else would say you were being a little too generous with that statement, but you meant exactly what you said.
Little did you know that this seemingly harmless comment made something in his brain snap….
No one has ever said anything remotely close to this to him. Sure, he’s gotten good remarks on his skills before but he’s always lived in his friend’s shadow. Finally, someone sees him for just how great he truly is.
His inhibitions were now gone and in that moment he decided you were his. You say it’s kidnapping, he says it’s redirecting you in the direction of his house. potato,patato!
He feels absolutely no guilt for kidnapping you and forcing your relationship. He believes he’s in the right most times. Everything he does is justified, including this……in some very sick way.
Kung Lao is a very needy and klingy Yandere. He orders you to be around him at all times or at least updating him constantly when you can’t be. Which is very rare, usually only happens if he has to be with the shaolin or if Raiden needs to speak with him privately.
He has a huge ego that constantly needs to be inflated by you. The man can’t help it, he craves your worship.
This means when he forces you to attend his sparring matches, tournaments, and workout sessions, you need to pay extra close attention. He will ask you specifically what you enjoyed about today's session and you better be raving about it, or it’ll be a hissy fit for the rest of the day. (So sassy)
Will shower you in compliments all damn day. He thinks you're absolutely beautiful in every single way and one thing that Kung Lao hates more than anything is someone with low self esteem. Lack of confidence is annoying to him so he’ll make sure you know you’ve got it going on.
(Ironic since deep down he’s crippling from his insecurities)
Very very physically affectionate and expects you to reciprocate it. Smothers you in kisses and cuddles.You have to hold his hand in public so people know that you're his. The way his grip is on you thooo. ;-;
Will just plop on top of you like he’s not 180 pounds of pure muscle. He’s so huge omg like you get crushed any time he has one of his love attacks.
Has a very mildly short temper. Most of his anger is never really taken out on you though. He’s just kind of asshole-ish to everyone outside of you
Will 100% threaten you and let you know that he’s not to be tested tho. He loves games but not when they come to you.
He cannot bear you giving anyone other than him attention, especially other men. Why do you even need to speak to other men??? You have the great Kung Lao right next to you.
Someone hits on you, he’ll get rid of them….
He’s willing to kill anyone for you. It’s all honorable, because it’s to protect the sanctity of his precious relationship.
If you start talking to someone for a little too long, flirting or he suspects you’re interested in another, he’s going to kill them too.. slowly and brutally…all for you to watch. He’ll slice the unsuspecting fellow in half, look up at you with a big ol’ grin!
“See, this is what I have to do when you start talking to people you shouldn’t. Now my hat is all filthy because of you.”
You need to know that Kung Lao is serious about you, and there are consequences to your stupidity. This will surely keep you in line.
Will also set punishments up too. He can’t find it in his heart to ever put his hands on you, but sometimes when he’s in one of many temper tantrums, he’ll leave bruises on your arm from grabbing or pulling you too hard. Though with that said, even if you try attacking him he will just try to pin you down or restrain your hands until you finally give up.
It’s kind of cute to him when you struggle. He’s so much stronger and bigger than you but you still think you have a chance…aww that’s so adorable and kind of amusing to him.
Usually his punishments consist of him locking you up for a day or two in his room, making you clean off his bloody clothes after he’s dealt with someone because of you, or doing some kind of chores he doesn’t want to.
If you try running away he will be deeply hurt and humiliated by this. He scolds you after he catches you and immediately ties you up. He takes away any basic necessities to further punish you. You’ve embarrassed him and now he’ll have to endure the whispers about it.
Why would you run away from the only person who can keep you safe? Is he not enough for you anymore???
You think this is some sort of fun joke?
Do you think someone fights better than him?????? If so he will challenge them to kombat to show you that he’s just as great as he was before.
Once he finally calms down kung lao would be very mopey for the next couple of hours. His ego is shattered in this moment and he just wants you to love him back. He’ll cling on anything you give him, he’ll even lose the hat for you if it meant that you’d never leave him again.
This is one of the only times where he’s openly vulnerable to you, outside of this he puts on his usual persona. Always self assured and well together. If you see Lao’s weak side too often you’ll think less of him.
Once you’ve finally gave in to his painful hours of pandering and promised to never leave him again, he snaps back to his old self.
It doesn’t matter how much you only thought of him as a close friend, Kung Lao is determined to break you down and become his perfect match. You’re the only one who understands him, and sees his true worth so he’d be a fool to just let you slip away. He’ll prove to you that he truly is the greatest once becomes the next champion. You'll soon see.
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theblueflower05 · 9 days
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These Violent Delights: Chapter One
A/N: Thanks for bearing with when it came to getting this first chapter out! Work has been dragging me by my hair, but i'm going to try to get this story updated every week. At least until I’m able to work through this Spike Fearn brain rot I’ve got going on rn.
Warnings: This story is pretty heavy from the jump. I mean, check the source material. Talks of suicidal thoughts and tendencies. Loneliness. Smut coming later!
Pariring: Bjorn x Reader
Summary: A friendship is formed under the most unlikely of circumstances.
✨Masterlist
✨Playlist
Next Chapter
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Every day is exactly the same.
The sentiment runs through your head as you blearily blink up at the water stained ceiling. The comforter is tangled around your legs and your mouth is dry- a side effect from the sleeping pills. The shrill ringing of the alarm is the only indication that the morning has rose on the horizon, outside the singular window in your apartment it is still black as pitch. Your joints crack when you finally force yourself out of bed.
You go through your morning routine in an almost mechanical manner. Shower. Brush teeth. Get dressed in the standard issued trousers and blouse you’d been given when you got your assignment- the holes you’d sewn up yourself are barely noticeable. Barley. Clip your hair back. Even the movements as you eat the tar like oatmeal feel too practiced. Fake.
Lately, you’ve found you dont feel very real anymore. There’s probably droid’s walking around, wires for veins, that feel less hollow than you do.
Jackson Star is a planet in the Alfeios system, and in the 11 years you’ve been stationed here you’ve realized, that it is a planet that should've never been colonized. It’s harsh, by nature. Sweltering summers followed by frigid winters, and the ever present, extremely active volcanoes. The atmospheric processors can only do so much.
And they cant do shit about the lack of sun.
They can try to replicate it; expensive lamps and vitamin C tablets acting like a cheap knock off. Like Weyland-Yutani Corps way of saying sorry we dropped you in hell- here's the shittiest consolation prize in the galaxy.
This particular Friday is gloomier then usual, rain accompanying the dark. The walk down the cluttered streets feels even more…hopeless than usual. Like maybe this is all there is. Blurring lights of neon signs and the ruddy faces of children that hold out their hands on corners, begging for their next meal.
Like maybe if you stepped in front of the bus in this cross walk- then it would end the loop. You’d be able to get out of this eternally dark purgatory.
They aren't new thoughts, but you lifting your foot to step of the curb is. You go numb, not thinking or feeling as you step into oncoming traffic.
Theres the blaring honk of a heavy hand on a horn and then you're being yanked backwards, hard.
You gasp as you’re pulled back onto the sidewalk and out of the way of oncoming traffic. You’re equal parts grateful and disappointed. But mostly you’re shocked.
The girl is small statured, her brown eyes wide behind unruly curls. She curses filthy and fast in Spanish.
Her gaze makes you feel uncomfortably scene. Its assessing and…worried. Its been a long time since anyone worried about you. “Are you alright?”
You’re taken aback by her question.
“I’m fine. Didn’t see the cars coming” you don’t understand why you’re explaining yourself to this stranger. It’s probably the hot embarrassment that’s pointing your face red.
She doesn’t look amused by your answer but nods slowly “Okay…”
The signal turns red, the cross walk sign lights up and you’re gone, fast as your feet can take you away from your unlikely savior. Leaving her standing there, confused.
“You’re welcome!” Comes her snark filled holler. You don’t blame her. But with the shame filling you, you also can’t look at her. You just give a haphazard wave behind you. A piss poor thanks, you know.
You hope you never see her again.
-
After the blip this morning, the routine persists- until it doesnt.
The office is how it always is. Bleak. The yellow lights flickering and the wallpaper peeling. Patty, a heavy set woman with an acidic smile sits at the front desk. The grim reaper at the mouth of the river Styx. It’s pleasantries, your badge is scanned and then you find your way back to your cubicle. As ready as anyone can be to stare at a screen and four walls for the next twelve hours.
Maybe it’s something in the damp air, but once again, the day deviates from the norm.
You only ever work with electronic filing. Sorting piles and piles of e-documents into they Weyland/Yutani system. An office grunt you’ve been called. And yet today they want you up front, something about “Yolanda from zoning and housing” missing a day because her son is dying from black lung. God forbid she want to be by his side. It leaves the office understaffed.
“I’m not trained for that position” you try to reason but it falls on deaf ears. There are numbers to be punched, and your lack of true no how doesn't really matter. You begrudgingly leave your familiar desk, taking only the thermos of hot coffee with me. Small mercies, really.
Front desk is as hellish as one would think it would be. Between having to interact with real human beings, not the computers you’re used to combined with Patty’s snooty remarks; you’re absolutely jonsing to get the fuck out of there and go home by the afternoon.
In the back office the digital copying machine is down for the fifth time this week. All of the filing systems have honestly been off- a result of the shitty outdated tech on this planet.
“Ugh- they really dont know what they're doing back there” Patty sighs, muttering under her beath about how she doesnt get paid enough for this shit “Im going to go help. Again. Keep your head down and follow the guideline on the forms” she gives me stern instructions and a side eye “And dont touch my stories”
She cares more about the trashy soap operas she watches on her tablet then the mother she just evicted from her apartment.
Where’s a fucking droid when you need one? This is most definitely a job that shouldn't be done by anyone with a conscience.
With dread in your stomach you put on a brave face as the security system announces the next client;
Oh.
It’s a girl. With a small stature and wide brown eyes. Ones that reflect the same recognition you feel. It takes a moment for you to swallow the surprise.
“Name” You demand in a practiced voice. The shakiness you feel not transmuting to your tone. Or at least you hope it doesnt.
“Kay Harrison” and just like that, she’s not a stranger anymore “I’m here for an appointment”
You type quickly, plugging in the details on the keyboard. Pulling up her file. Scanning the information quickly. “Yes, I can see that. Here to formally request an eviction extension”
Damn. Thats tough.
“Yes. But only because we truly will be able to pay it next week. I brought not only mine but my brothers work logs and proof of direct deposit-” she pulls out a beat up old tablet and slides it under the glass. “We’ll be able to get the rent paid in full by the fourth”
What kind of cruel fate is this? The most twisted form of serendipity. She saved you this morning and now you have to co-sign on her eviction this afternoon.
You know it doesn't matter, you saw their file. The Harrisons arent newbies to being late for rent and their landlord is chomping at the bit to get them out.
“I’ll scan these into your case but at this point in the process it really doesn't matter” at your words, panic induced tears fill her eyes.
“No- because. We’re late. But we always pay. We’ve never been negligent, not on purpose. Since my dad died we’ve done our best” Kay rambles an explanation that doesn't matter and you feel frozen. Stuck. Conflicted in a way that you we’re supposed to have trained out of you.
“I cant-” you sigh and she looks pathetic. Drained…void.
A feeling you know all too well. That had almost led you right into the grill of a bus this very morning. And yet- she’d stepped in.
You gnaw on your lip and as discreetly as possible, your eyes scan around the empty office. Your co-workers still not back yet. You’re the only one in here. Its madness, but if there was any time to act on madness- it would be now.
You begin typing furiously, entering in codes that a normal front desk clerk wouldn't know, it isn’t in their training. But you’d been trained for filing.
“An extension wont be needed” You speak purposefully, giving Kay a pointed look “The landlord marked the eviction for the fifth. That gives you three more days to get a payment in before the constable is scheduled to come for the lock out”
There’s a moment of heavy silence.
The landlord had actually marked the second but well. It’s an easy enough over turn. Easy, but extremely illegal. You just did something that could not only cost you your job but risk your contract. Land you in jail-
“He marked the wrong date…” Kay chews the words, like she cant believe what she’s saying.
“Yep” I say quickly, finishing up, covering my ass by copying multiple files into the system. It would be hard as shit to uncover it, if anyone cared to bother. Kay’s just another file in the hundreds today. “Here you go, Miss Harrison. You have seventy two hours to get the payment to the respective party. If not the constable will be there to conduct the eviction”
I slide her tablet back towards her.
“I- I don't know what to say” She stutters and you give her a glare. You don't have the time for groveling, for un- needed thanks. As far as you’re concerned, you are now even.
“Don't say anything. Take your things and go”
I don't look at her again, not even when she leaves. Instead I refocus on my computer screen. Trying to breathe through the nerves that wrack my body. That was just about the stupidest thing you’ve ever done.
Your heart beats furiously and it’s the most alive you’ve felt in months.
-
After that it seems like something has been broken. The pattern no longer functions.
Jackson Star is by no means a small colony. Thousands strong, full of unfamiliar faces. And yet. You keep running into the same one.
“Here, I grabbed you a coffee. Extra sugar, like ya like, even though it’s going to rot your teeth out” Kay waits for you at the same corner that the two of you had met on. Weeks ago. She’d hunted you down after that fateful day and had shown that she wasn't giving up on showing her gratitude so easily.
Having friends in the colony is a dangerous game. Every friend you’ve ever had has either been transferred off planet or died. And yet here you are, eagerily bounding over to Kay. Taking the paper cup full of cheap coffee.
“My teeth are my own business thank you”
And it goes like this; the train station where Kay catches her ride to the mines isn't far from your job so the two of you make your morning commute together, gabbing about nothing. It's nice. It feels familiar, you used to have loads of friends.
Kay’s easy to talk to and she shares so much of herself so freely. Her little stories about her family make you smile. Make you feel warmth, and secretly longing. And yet still, every time the topic of you meeting everyone comes up you shy away.
Being friends with Kay is one thing. Meeting the most important people in her life is another.
She offers again today. Dinner at her house, ya’ know, the one she still has because of you. It’ll be lowkey. Just the friends. Fun.
Although you crave it, you’re scared of it too. That’s why you’re shaking your head, giving another of those flimsy excuses. Kay just pats your arm.
“If you change your mind, you’re still more than welcome to come. I’ll text you the details, okay?” She’s got this way about her. Gentle but not condescending, a hard balance to strike. Too bad she’s on this near barren planet, she’d be a great mother.
“I’ll keep that in mind, thank you”
When the two of you hit the proverbial fork in the road- you go your way and she goes hers. You to the office and her to the mines. Both prisons in their own rights.
You watch her cross the street and join a tall man at the train station. His skin’s the same shade as hers, his eyes the same almond shape. He’s handsome in a way that you’ve only seen on screens, in those old movies your mom used to watch.
This must be the older brother she talks so much about. Tyler.
He says something you can’t quite decipher to her and then looks over her shoulder, across the street at you, and beams.
Its not a normal smile. It’s pearly whites flashed at you in a way that makes your heart skip a beat in your chest. When he gives you a smooth wave you feel like you might be knocked over.
You just know the grimace and jerky hand motion you give back is as awkward as it feels.
If you obsess about how much of an antisocial weirdo you are all day, that’s your own prerogative.
I mean come on? You can’t even manage to wave back at someone? You truly need to get it together.
You think about that as you eat dinner at your makeshift table that night. Maybe, you’re just out of practice. You’re not awkward, just dusty. You just haven’t spoken to anyone for more then five minutes since your upstairs neighbor had a pipe burst.
It’s what leads you to pulling out your phone, to pulling up Kay’s contact. It’s still new. Still fresh.
Is there anything I should bring?
You don’t have to wait long for a response.
Kay: Nope, just yourself!😊 [location attachment] see you tomorrow.
You stare at her response on the small bright screen until your eyes burn. This is the change you had craved so badly.
So why are you so scared?
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This chapter kind of took on a life of its own. I so desperately wanted to have Bjorn in this but there was just- a lot of ground to cover. Next chapter we’re jumping right into introducing him (and smut towards a the end of that chapter to!)
Big shout out to @spikedfearn for letting me ramble like a crazy lady in her inbox. Her Bjorn content literally makes me salivate.
If anyone else is still going through Romulus hyperfixation please feel free to comment or send asks! I’m always here to chat!
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steddieas-shegoes · 10 months
Text
pining long enough
for @steddiemicrofic prompt 'pine' wc: 508 | rated e | tags: mutual pining, love confessions, making out, frottage, getting together
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“Jesus Christ, Steve. How long have you been pining?” Eddie said breathlessly as his back hit the wall.
Steve’s hands were everywhere, everywhere except where he wanted them most.
“Long enough.” Steve’s fingers tugged on Eddie’s shirt. “Take this off.”
Eddie needed a second, maybe a day.
“I just.” Eddie cupped Steve’s face in his hands to hold him back, his lips still pouting out like he was interrupted mid-kiss. “Slow down for a second. You went from barely talking to me to begging me to take off my shirt and leaving a bruise the size of Indiana on my neck. What’s happening right now?”
Steve huffed out a sigh. “I want you.”
“I’m gathering that. But…why?” Eddie was being so fucking strong right now, being the bigger person, being the more reasonable one. It was so unlike him, he almost checked his own forehead for a fever.
“Because you’re Eddie.”
“Yeah, and that’s not really clearing things up for me. That’s usually why people don’t want me,” Eddie searched Steve’s face, looking for any possible clue as to what could have happened to make Steve’s lips meet his in nothing short of a desperate kiss.
“Because I’ve spent months trying to keep my distance and I can’t anymore!” Steve’s body deflated, his shoulders curling into himself.
Eddie pulled him into his chest, not wasting a moment when he could be comforting him, not when Steve so clearly wanted this.
“I kinda thought you couldn’t stand me,” Eddie said quietly as he rubbed Steve’s back.
Whatever hunger he had a minute ago had left, the heat gone as Steve breathed slowly against him.
“I can’t stand the way I turn to an even bigger idiot around you.” Steve pulled back and looked at Eddie, eye to eye, his breath hot against his lips. “Robin calls it Eddie Brain. Dustin thinks the last concussion just made me stupid.”
“No he doesn’t.” Eddie argued. Just when Steve took a breath to argue back, Eddie kissed him.
“You can’t kiss me to shut me up,” Steve mumbled against his lips, his arms wrapping around Eddie’s neck, hands curling into his hair.
“Seems like it’s working right now,” Eddie mumbled back.
They got lost in it for a while, keeping a slow pace while their hands mapped scars on skin, lips found new places to taste.
They were both hard, Eddie could feel Steve’s length against his thigh, but they weren’t chasing the finish line, they weren’t rushing to be done.
Everything Eddie’s done has been rushed, quick enough that whoever he was kissing didn’t have time to think about what they were doing.
But not this.
Steve slowly rutted against his thigh, seeking friction, letting out whimpers as he took what he needed.
“Want my hand, Stevie?” Eddie whispered after a few minutes of this. “Can get ya there faster.”
Steve shook his head. “No, just like this. Feels good.”
“Been pining after me for months and now you wanna take it slow?” Eddie teased.
“Wanna take forever with you, baby.”
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roanniom · 2 years
Note
Live footage of Eddie in the sensitivity fics
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A Study in Touch
Virgin!Eddie Munson x fem!reader
Warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, suggestive flirting and touching, masturbation
You’re tutoring him late one night at his trailer, one of his last ditch efforts to finally graduate. Wayne is gone for his overnight shift so the two of you are alone.
“Can we pleeease do something else? I’m bored and if I look at another flash card I’m gonna die,” Eddie says dramatically, pushing the stack of cards away and laying himself performatively across your lap on the bed, making you laugh.
You two have been casual friends for years, crossing paths in drama club and classes and the like. When you graduated and he stayed behind for another senior year, Eddie would meet you from time to time at the diner where you worked after days full of taking classes at the community college.
With Eddie splayed over you, chest on your lap, face planted on the mattress next to you, you chuckle fondly down at your friend.
“Well do you have any suggestions for an alternate activity?” you ask.
“Anything where I don’t have to use my brain,” he groans.
“That shouldn’t be too difficult, you never use your brain,” you tease. He goes to retort, but at that exact moment you drop your hand on his back and smooth it up the length of his spine, making all of Eddie’s muscles suddenly seize up.
You freeze as a result of his sudden tension and hold your breath. Not sure what you did wrong.
“It’s…it’s okay that I don’t use my brain.” Eddie says, voice slightly shaky as he tries to pretend like he hadn’t just reacted oddly to your touch. “If I was smart, I wouldnt need to pay you for tutoring, so I wouldn’t question it if I were you.”
You laugh at that before tentatively placing your hand back on the plane of his back. Eddie doesn’t tense up this time. In fact, he seems to melt down against you. Perhaps relieved you had given him a second chance with your touch.
“You don’t pay me, Munson,” you contradict.
“Should I?” Eddie asks, turning on his side where he’s laying in your lap so that he can look at you. He’s got that cocky grin on his face that you love when the two of you banter. You’d never know that he had gone rigid under your hand just a moment ago if you hadn’t felt it yourself.
“Don’t make me sound like a hooker,” you say, sliding your hand from his back over his shoulder to slap at his chest. He chuckles but when you go to pull your hand away after the slap, he grabs it and presses it back against his chest.
Your eyes dart up to his face to register the slight panic present in his eyes. His palm is a little sweaty over the back of your hand and you can feel the sped up stutter of his heartbeat, thumping in his chest (a chest much more solid than you’d anticipated).
“You’re too pretty to be a hooker,” he says quietly. He’s back to seeming more nervous than you’ve ever seen him before, despite the usual layer of cockiness, and you wait with bated breath as he continues, though your concern is assuaged when he gives you a lopsided grin. “At the very least you’re an expensive escort.”
“An escort?” you laugh incredulously. Eddie nods.
“Yeah. Like a real high class one.”
“Yeah?”
“Oh yeah. Top shelf, baby.”
The endearment doesn’t really faze you as Eddie has always confidently called you every sweet name under the sun. The casual flirting feels comfortable and normal and - if you’re being honest with yourself - it seems like it’s part of something that’s been swelling between the two of you for a long time now.
The only thing that clues you in that Eddie is more than a little anxious is the fact that you can feel the thundering beat of his heart under your hand. 
“And here I thought I was someone you respected,” you muse, using your hand on his chest to push him on his back on the bed. His eyes widen significantly, widening still when you climb up to straddle his lap.
“I-I-I do…r-respect you,” he stutters, not even capable to pretending that he’s not startled by the development. His hands twitch at his sides. He’s clearly unsure if he should rest them on your thighs or not so you grab them and place them squarely on your hips.
“Do you? Because I’m pretty sure I walked in here to find a well ‘loved’ magazine open to a particularly sticky page with a naked woman on it who looked just like me.” You know you’re acting forward and impatient, but Eddie’s just so cute beneath you and you’re done waiting for him to make a move, especially when you’re so sure he wants you too.
“You saw…oh god. You saw that?” The realization dawning behind his eyes at your eyes words make him seem miserable all of a sudden. True regret and embarrassment replace the flustered flush that had colored his neck and cheeks just moments ago. This wasn’t the reaction you’d been hoping for. You’d assumed he’d proudly admit it or accuse you of something equally salacious. Anything other than the way he’s shrinking against the mattress in remorse.
You lean forward and cup the side of his face.
“No shh stop, I was only teasing,” you do your best to comfort. He seems more startled by your hand on his face than by the revelation, so that’s something at least.
“So…so you didn’t see…” he blinks up at you. You shake your head with a grin.
“Well no, I did see it. But I’m flattered,” you say with a chuckle. Eddie is beet red beneath you now but at least he settles enough to put his hands back on your thighs. You push further. “I’m right, right? You like her cuz she looks like me?”
Eddie swallows thickly, struggling to look at you till he forces his eyes to meet yours.
“I don’t have any pictures of you, so…” He tries his best to sound teasing. He really does. The corner of his mouth quirks up and everything. But you can see him cringe a little at his own words, probably apprehensive about your response. You bite your lip and gaze back down at him inscrutably before looking around the room.
“Aha,” you mutter to yourself, reaching over to grab the old beat up used Polaroid camera he had slung over the corner of his headboard by a worn leather strap. Eddie’s eyes go wide as you shift in his lap, lifting the camera up at a high angle and smiling, your free hand on his pelvis, dangerously close to…
Oh fuck.
He’s hard and you’re on his lap.
He’s hard and you’re on his lap and you just took a picture.
You pay him and his current internal freak out no mind while you pull the waiting picture from the slot, humming as you wait for it to develop and dry. When it’s done, you take a glance and grin wide before swinging yourself off his lap. Eddie is left grasping at air, disappointed in the loss of your warmth.
“Where…where are you going?” he asks as you gather your things, horrified he’s finally scared you off. With your bag slung over your shoulder you smile at him.
“It’s late, I think we’re done for the night. We can pick up tomorrow,” you say brightly. Before Eddie can feel too dejected, however, you drop the Polaroid picture face down on his thigh, leaning down to whisper in his ear. “And besides, I think you’ve got something to take care of now that you’ve got a picture of me.”
Your hand cups his hardened cock through his jeans then and Eddie all but yelps. You pull back from his ear, give him a final cheeky grin, and waltz out.
Eddie holds his breath till he hears the slam of the trailer door and the sound of your tires crunching gravel as you drive away. Then he looks at the Polaroid.
Shrouded in the customary background darkness of an instant flash photo, he’s greeted with the image of you, straddling him, his unmistakable erection bulging his jeans just at the apex of your thighs. And speak of your thighs, his big hands are on them, fingers depressing into the soft flesh in what reads on camera as much possessive and less desperate. His hellfire shirt is rucked up a bit to expose a little of his happy trail leading to his belt, but otherwise that’s all that was visible of Eddie. Of course, he was more interested in you.
The high angle gave the most perfect vantage point down the neckline of your shirt, making your tits look fantastic he literally has to drag a finger over his puffy over bitten bottom lip to catch any spit collecting. Your hand supports you by laying flat on his pelvis, just centimeters from his hard cock. Eddie drops his hand to that very same place now, almost certain he can still feel the phantom pressure of your own palm. The top frame of the image cuts off just below your eyes, something that saddens him but which affords you a little bit of anonymity on this compromising image. But his eyes zero in on your mouth. The way you’ve stuck out your tongue, biting down on it cheekily in a way that still doesn’t hide the smile threatening at the corners of your lips.
You were right. He does have something to take care of now.
That night he cums three separate times, each time fixating on a different part of the picture. He’s so spent and dehydrated afterwards that he just lays in his bed, sweaty and dazed in the early hours on the morning, staring at the picture. Oversensitive and over jerked cock finally dormant (aside from the occasional twitch), leaving him room to simmer in the warmth that spreads from thoughts of your voice, your laugh. Everything about you.
At dawn he finally throws himself out of bed and into the shower, determined not to smell or look like he’d spent the night masturbating his brains out when he finally sees you later.
But of course, under the stream of warm water thoughts of what you’d look like, body wet and eyes begging, came to him unbidden.
Yeah. He ended up needing a lot more time to make him presentable than he’d thought.
~*~
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kissagii · 1 year
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Don't Let Go - After a rough day, Shidou needs a good long hug.
cw: gn!reader, 0.8k words, food + eating mentions at the beginning, established relationship, shidou is probably ooc, he's emotionally struggling and a pouty baby.
a/n: i was thinking about shidou and his trivia and idk my brain vomited this out
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The first indication that something is wrong is the dinner gone cold on the table. Half past ten, the clock reads, and the only light in your apartment is the lamp above the dinner table where you sit and wait. Across from you sits a plate of now-cold beef and a limp salad. Your own meal had been eaten nearly an hour ago, when hunger overtook your patience, and while it was miserably cold, it was better than nothing.
By the time the door finally creaks open you were contemplating giving up on waiting. For four hours you sat in that hard wooden chair, leaving only briefly to clean the kitchen and refill your water.
“Welcome home Love,” You call toward the entryway, “There’s dinner waiting, do you want me to reheat it?”
You’re met by an uncharacteristic silence: no shouting, not even whispering. Only the shuffling of shoes being removed and the dull thud of a bag being unceremoniously discarded until the morning.
“Ryusei? Is everything alright?” You call again, finally standing up to look for your boyfriend. The silence doesn’t bode well - it means you’re either about to get pranked or something has gone horribly wrong, and by his late arrival home you can assume it’s the latter.
Moments later he comes sulking into the dimly lit room, and never did you think a boisterous six-foot-tall man could look so small. His posture is hunched, but not in the carefree way it usually is, and for what feels like the first time ever his mouth is shut. He doesn’t even offer a smile as he heads toward the bedroom, bypassing the dinner table entirely.
Again you ask him if he wants to eat, to which he responds with a resigned, “nah,” and continues making his way to bed. At the very least his lethargic state allows you to cut in front of him, forcing the unsettlingly somber man to stop and confront you.
“Are you alright, Ryusei?” Instinctually you reach out to pat his shoulder reassuringly, but you stop yourself before you can make contact. He’s probably volatile. Shouldn’t push it. He stares at your hand where it’s awkwardly frozen, halfway between you and him, shaking back and forth in a war between instinct and reason.
Harshly he pulls you into an embrace, arms wrapped so tightly around your chest it feels like he might break a rib. You return the gesture gently with what little force you can muster. His breath, barely audible, shakes.
When it becomes clear that Shidou has no intention of letting go of you, you whisper to him, “Hey, Ryu, what’s up?”
“Don’ wanna talk ‘bout it,” He mutters, squeezing even tighter around you. Had he been any other man the bite in his tone would’ve been worrying, but to you it was more relieving than anything. Whatever happened wasn’t bad enough to completely extinguish his fire, and that was more than you could ask for.
“Alright,” You whisper, running your fingers through his hair, “But… could we at least lay down? It’s late, you must be tired.”
His reply is weak. Soft. Almost scared. “Don’ wanna let go.”
Your heart nearly drops. At a loss for words, you freeze. Because, despite the tiredness in your bones and the sweet call of the comfortable mattress, you don’t want to let go either.
“It’ll just be a moment. And as soon as we lay down you can hug me all you want. Promise.”
Shidou’s grip on you loosens, and you loosen yours in reply. It’s like a dance, slowly separating yourselves until after a brief eternity you can no longer feel his warmth against you. Neither of you wants to step away, to start the stage where the other is just out of reach and seems a million miles away.
He takes a step. You take two. As soon as he’s close enough he collapses onto his side of the mattress, waiting anxiously for you to join him. You follow suit, and the moment you’re within an arm’s length he latches onto you with an iron grip, face buried into your shoulder. Though your boyfriend largely impedes motion, you manage to wrap your arms comfortably around him, giving his chest a reassuring squeeze.
“Please don’t let go,” He mumbles, voice muffled by the fabric of your shirt. But even still the message is clear.
“I won’t, Ryusei, I promise.” You rub slow circles on his back, a comforting reminder of your presence - and your willingness to stay with him through the night and still through the next day and the day after that. “I love you, Ryusei.”
His reply comes out choked. “...Forever?”
“Yes, Ryusei, forever.”  
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i'm a firm believer in the softie shidou agenda
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