#shit this is getting out of hand that was really quick whoops

[lunarflare64]

We forgot that we simp like crazy for Scarecrow (as in Jonathan Crane, the Batman villain) and holy fuck are we having a Moment right now, how did we forget this one, holy shit FUCK

[juneberrie]

in person ✮ EARTH-42!MILES MORALES X FEM!READER

summary miles flew across the country to tell you something, because it absolutely had to be in person.

author's note THIS IS 100% BASED ON THE NHIE BENVI WEDDING CONFESSION SCENE

word count 0.6k

warnings fem!reader, written w e42!miles in mind but really it could be 1610 too, petnames (mostly mami 😊), reader is wearing a dress

miles was here. here. at your friend's aunt's wedding. how did he even know where to go? wasn't he in california for some internship? all these questions whirled through your mind as his eyes searched the room for you.

you get up from the table you're sitting at with your friends, eyes locked on miles.

"where're you going, y/n?" one of your friends asks. you shrug them off and walk towards miles.

when you finally reach him, his face lights up in a smile.

"hi," he starts, but you cut him off, gesturing with your hand for him to stop.

"what are you doing here?" you ask. he looks ridiculously out of place at the fancy wedding. you two must look like clowns, seeing as you were wearing a dress that must've been sent down from heaven, compared to miles' sweats and a hoodie. "aren't you supposed to be in california?"

he looks taken aback, but the smile remains on his face when he replies. "great to see you too," he laughs. "i just.. i wanted to tell you something."

"and you flew across the country to tell me? you are aware that you could've just texted me, right?"

he sighs and a hand flies up to rub the back of his neck. "i know, but, listen, mami. i needed to tell you in person."

you cross your arms. "then what is it, miles? what was just so incredibly important that you flew all the way from california to tell me?" its not that you were annoyed with him, its just that, he was your friend, yeah, but things had been awkward ever since you two had, uh, done more than kissed last summer. and then, oh. and then, he ignored you, like a douche bag.

"i... i really like you, y/n," he said, looking at the floor, at the lights, at anywhere but you.

woah. not mami, not babe, but y/n? he must be serious.

you let out a short laugh. his head snaps up. "you know, this is dumb." he throws his hands in the air and turns to go. "it was dumb to come he-"

you grab him by the shoulders and spin him back around. "i like you too. god, miles, i really like you," you tell him, grinning.

he looks into your eyes, hopeful. "like, for real? because now that i think about it..." he trails off, glancing at your lips.

"what? do i have crumbs on my face or something?" you say, unconsciously reaching up to wipe at your face.

"no, no," he laughs, grabbing your hand. he brings it to his lips and presses a quick kiss to your palm. "i was going to say, now that i think about it, i love you."

your brain short circuits. miles stares hopefully at you, a rare smile on his face.

"uh? hello? y/n? anyone there?" he waves a hand in your face and you blink.

"shit, no. WAIT, not no to you, just. oh my god, miles," you ramble. he's still staring, the smile starting to fade off his face. "I LOVE YOU TOO," you say. it feels like you're yelling it.

he grins. "for- for real?" he asks, bringing a hand to your waist and pulling you closer.

"for real, miles," you reply. his grin grows exponentially and pulls you in for a long awaited kiss. you hear your friends whoop behind you and you flip them off, laughing into the kiss. you love miles morales, and he loves you.

"you know, i'm glad you came to tell me in person," you say when you pull away.

"i'm glad too, mami."

[dilfl0v3rss]

play fighting with ony but y/n gets mad he's stronger and gives him silent treatment so he puts her in place

sb else sent something like this too i hope they see ittttt😩❤️

ony tries to refrain from play fighting with you, knowing that his strength would always overpower yours and you be quick to get serious after he hits you wrong.

“baby moveeee” he whined as you continued to kiss all over his face. sticky clear lip gloss smudging all over ony’s dark cheeks as you quickly moved from different spots on his face. he eventually just got tired of you a got up from the bed. you quickly wrapped your arms and legs around him so you didn’t fall, but ony had different plans, quickly grabbing your hips and throwing your body off of him as he got up. you landed on the bed with a “oomf” as you looked up at his irritated face.

“got me looking like a glazed donut” he mumbled as he walked to the bathroom to wash his face. you were in a giddy mood so you followed him, wrapping your small arms around his waist as ony rid himself of your lipgloss. “mama m’not finna keep playin with you. you bout to get these hands furreal” his voice was serious, but you didn’t care, doing the one thing he hated the most. you slowly slid your hands off him towards his back, running them up to his shoulders to give them a light squeeze. ony thought you were finally finished, relaxing into your touch. he couldn’t have been more wrong.

before he knew it your hands quickly slid from his shoulders to his ass, giving it a rough squeeze before you ran. “hell nah im finna whoop that ass” before you got far you felt your arm get yanked right back towards him. ony said nothing, letting his body do the talking as he quickly lifted you up high in the air, making you scream. “oh my god baby put my downn! put me down ony fore you drop meeee!” you yelled, scared shitless as your strong boyfriend held you over his head. “say you sorry first”

you rolled your eyes, quickly telling him what he wanted to hear so you can get down. “m’sorry m’sorry now put me downnn” now anyone in there right mind would put the person down softly, but your boyfriend was never in his right mind. he practically threw you, laughing as he watched you fall to the bed face first. in an instant you were on him. you didn’t even know what you were doing, but you knew you wanted to whoop that ass. smack after smack you tried to deliver on his arms and chest while ony blocked all of them. “bitch ass nigga”

his smile quickly faded as he looked at you with wide eyes. “aight watch this” before you knew it you were on your stomach, his strong arm holding your arms behind your back as he delivered a hard slap to your ass. it was so hard you felt the sting long after he hit you, even when you got back up and got back to fighting. throwing “punches” all over his body while chanting “bitch bitch bitch” with every one of them. you were winning, well that’s what ony wanted you to think. he was going to let you have your fun until you decided to drag it bite his shoulder.

“the fuck?!” he yelled before lightly punching you in your thigh and flipping you over so he had your wrists in his hands. “i told you about that biting shit mama ion like that. now cut it out fore i really get mad.” while he spoke you tried your hardest to get out of his grasp, but he was too strong. making you let out an exaggerated sigh as you rolled your eyes. “whatever nigga jus get off me” ony complied, quietly getting off of you before going back to his side of the bed.

“mad strong for no reason, big ass nigga don’t know how to play fight without hurting people” ony rolled his eyes, pulling out his phone so he could just ignore you and carry on with his evening, but you always had to push it. “next time you punch me like that ima cut your shoes up. dumb bitch” you glanced at ony, hoping that he heard you but you quickly came to regret that. brown eyes looking into yours with a deadly stare as ony carried a stern look on his face.

“whatchu say?” his voice was low as he continued intimidating you with his stare. you refused to repeat yourself, choosing to just shake your head “no” to keep from giving him the satisfaction of hearing your voice. “what did you say y/n. answer me” ony didn’t care about the shoes, but he’s told you many times how he felt about you letting that bitch word fly out your mouth. he let it slide the first time, but now you were in trouble. “so you don’t know how t’speak? cmere, i’ll make you speak”

you moved to walk away from him, thinking that leaving the room and giving him some space would help him, but you were unsuccessful. ony was quick to grab your arm, pulling you back to him on the bed. “what i said about calling me that? do i call you that?” you shook your, irritating him further. ony rolled his eyes, throwing you over his lap before pulling his shirt that you were wearing over your ass. you were in nothing but a thong, your brown skin sitting plump and ready for him to slap.

“s’not a reply mama talk t’me. do i call you that?” before you could reply a hard slap was brought to your ass, ony’s wide palm almost leaving a handprint on you. a small whimper left your lips, tears already welling in your eyes as you spoke in a shaky voice. “n-no” he let out a satisfied sigh, lifting your body off his lap before laying you on your back. “then why you keep saying it t’me when you know ion like it? take allat shit off”

within minutes you were fighting for your life. your hands were bound behind your back by one big strong one, ass just ricocheting off the defined stomach of your boyfriend as he fed you every last inch of his dick. “must think i’m pussy or sum” he mumbled. his hips never missed a beat as he tightened his grip on your wrists with one hand. his other hand was wrapped firmly around the back of your neck, making it impossible for you to run from him as he gave you everything he had. “who a bitch mama?” ony said in a taunting voice, his hand pulling you up slightly so he could hear your reply.

you were fucked out. drool calling from your lips as you stared deliriously at the headboard in front of you. “d-dunno daddy. i dun…..dunno” a smirk quickly made its way to your boyfriends lips at the sound of your fucked out, barely audible voice. he always knew just what to do to have you like this and instead of easing up he decided to give you more for your actions earlier. “oh now you ‘dunno’? you sounded real sure of yourself when you was saying it earlier.” as he spoke, ony made sure you push down a little on your wrists, making your arch deeper as he granted himself more access to your pretty pussy.

your lips parted instantly, a whine escaping them as you tried to move your wrists from his tight grip. of course you were unsuccessful, only making your boyfriend smile grow as he felt your pussy began to tighten around him. “oh you close now mama? tryna make a mess all on this dick?” your head instantly began to nod, a breathless “yes” flying from your lips as you began to rock yourself back into him. ony moved fast behind you, fucking you quickly with all of him. your pussy fluttered at the feeling, your orgasm quickly approaching as you felt some of your wetness begin to trick down your thighs.

before you knew it you were cumming all over him, your release reaching the sheets, your thighs, and ony’s lower stomach as he continued to fuck you through your orgasm. your body shook in overstimulation, hands fighting with the right grip he still had on them as your boyfriend continued to fuck you at the same pace. “i c-can’t take n-no more daddy” you whined. when you turned around to look at him you were met with nothing but mischievous eyes, a smirk dancing on ony’s lips as he parted them to speak.

“ion care ma, we gon stop when we find that bitch you was talking bout. now stop whining fore i make you come ride me next”

[minimallyminnie]

hehehehehehehe

okay okay

how would Sebek, Leona, Silver, and Vil react if the reader got them flowers??

Flowers

Breaking news: local tsunderes and a sleepy boy fall for a shrimp when they decide to give flowers to them.

BIGGG HUGS TO MY 2ND YEAR BABY SILVERRR 🔥🔥🔥

Leona Kingscholar

Out of everyone, you chose him?

Yeah, he’s pretty confused when you came up to him in the greenhouse one day

You knelt down to his face

He knew you were there and he half hoped you’d go away if he’d ignore you and half hoped you stayed

You did stay!….and poke his cheek multiple times before he cracked an eye open at you.

“What the hell is your problem herbivore?”

“For you.”

You shove a flower in his face and try run off when he sits up faster and grab your wrist

‘I’m gonna die today, goodbye Grim, goodbye Ace, Deuce…’ You think when you fall back and close your eyes shut, waiting for the time you’ll hit the floor

You fall back into the arm of the SavanaClaw housewarden and when you open one of your eyes, you’re greeted with his face close up

“I wasn’t finished talking.”

“U-uh! My bad! I just—“ You groaned. “I thought this flower reminded me of you.”

“…These are vegetables.”

“Idiot, it’s a herb.”

“Same shit.”

“Coriander, tarragon, and this isn’t even an herb, hydrangeas!”

Leona looked at the three flowers in his hand

“Why they remind you of me?”

Your face brightens yet again, whoops, you forgot about that, well not like you have anything to lose right…?

“Coriander for your hidden worth, tarragon because you make me interested, and hydrangeas because…I’m happy you understand me when everyone can’t.”

“…Really…?” He smirked at you, you have so many urges to kiss and slap him at the same time but you can’t deny the fear of just him ignoring you afterwards

“Just…say you don’t feel the same and move on. I don’t need to be lead on b—“

He kisses your hand that he had held onto

“Don’t assume I don’t feel the same.”

“You do?!”

Leona rolls his eyes and wraps his arm on your waist, pulling you close

“Shut up. Lemme sleep now.” And he knocks out, trapping you with a sleeping lion

You take a minute to appreciate his sleeping face and smile. When he wakes up, you’re sure to ask him out officially!

Rolling yourself on your other side, now you have a dilemma. With the sleeping lion trapping you with his arm…

How are you gonna get out and go to class???!

Vil Schoenheit

The queen of the Magicam app and your heart is always surrounded by people…

And if he isn’t, then Rook is there…

You were so close to pulling your own hair out whenever someone came up to Vil. You knew he was a housewarden, yes, but you needed just one moment alone!

Sighing out in defeat when yet another student came up, you just gave Rook the flowers and told him to give it to Vil later before going back to Ramshackle and complaining in your couch.

You’re grateful that Grim gave you the space you needed and went off to bother your two dorky friends

The rain pelted your window as you furiously screamed inside the cushions

A knock comes at your door, but you’re too frustrated to go open it

“Come in!”

“So, instead of just simply asking me to be alone with you, you asked Rook to give these to me?”

You quickly pounce up and see Vil staring at you down on the couch, his umbrella by his side, was he always that quick?!

He sits down besides you holding the bouquet, Vil looks completely elegant as usual but…the undersides of his shoes. They’re muddy and they have drops of mud on the upper side…He ran?

“An aloe piece, Calla lilies, and forget me nots…Your flower language is lovely. Though, I hope the aloe is affection and not grief…”

“It is…”

He held your hands with his own, you can tell your cheeks are definitely pink

“Affection, beauty, and to not forget. Do you think I really would swoop that low to forget you?”

Well yes, but right now? Oh sevens no.

“I-Well, do you feel…the s-same?”

You asked with curiosity and hesitation

“You’re very foolish of you think I ran in my heels here to just reject you.”

A smile graces his face and you happily hug him

Silver Vanrouge (I will die for that.)

A slight blush adorned your cheeks anytime Silver came by

He was just so pretty in your eyes!! How can one being be so…so…

RAHHHHH

You knew if he was busy guarding Malleus, he wouldn’t be able to spend time with you

If he wasn’t, he was sleeping and completely unable to talk

Knowing him better than yourself, you knew exactly what time to give the flowers to him!!!

That is until he ended up getting more shifts as a result of Sebek getting ill (you don’t blame him, you gave a little card along with Jack earlier)

Hole in your plan…

Fortunately! You got free lunch from someone who wasn’t hungry and went to his station

Not too many people and either way, Malleus just knew by the glint you saw in his eyes. Tsuntaro really was your wingman…

“Silver!” You ran up to where he was sitting and he stood up fast

“Hey, I didn’t know you were here.” He told you with slightly startled eyes

“Sit back down! I got both of us some food and…a surprise for you. You’re on break right?”

When he sits back down by your side, he nods.

You two eat the food before you wrap the plates up in their bag again

Silver, feeling sleepy, dropped his head on your shoulder

“Ah! Wait hang on, before y-you sleep…” You grab the hidden flowers from underneath a cloth and give it to him

His sleepy eyes widen, a pink bloomed on his cheeks

“For…me?”

“For you!” You blushed too, not knowing if he knew or reciprocated your feelings

“…White clovers, Gardenias, and white hyacinths…”

Mainly whites since you thought they matched Silver’s pretty white hair—Ack! Caught lacking again in front of the knight himself!

“Y-yeah! Picked them out myself! Thought they matched your appearance and how…how I think about you! Clovers because I think of you, gardenias cause you’re lovely, and hyacinths for prayers for someone or because you’re so lovely yet again!” You smile at the end, shyly looking away as his pupils dilate and his face becomes shocked

He blinks and smiles softly, taking one of the clovers and putting one behind your ear

“I think of you too.”

You’re so happy, you tackled him to the ground and almost crushed the flowers

Sebek Zigvolt

Bro would eat flowers if Malleus asked him too

Sebek is a sweetie, not everyone sees past the rough and loud exterior that he has but when you did, you fell straight down for him.

Well maybe not straight down, more like…someone entering shallow water for the first time. Carefully stepping in and then getting excited and diving all in.

You saw how Sebek refused gifts from his friends. How he was…quite determined to give the gifts back

Got pretty annoyed at the sharp toothed man for that…

Despite your sweaty palms, you decided to force a gift no matter what!

So, you decided to ask Malleus and Lilia if they could let Sebek have a single day off, you would do anything

They just laughed and said you didn’t need to

So, Sir Zigvolt got a day off! (He wasn’t happy at first but then you asked him “if he could be your knight for the day”, and with a scowling blushing face, he nodded)

“Hmph! If a lowly human like you needs my help, then fine! Only because Master Malleus Sama is not in need of me!”

You didn’t have classes that day so you spent some time with him just walking around the town with him

Panicking once the day was almost over and the sunset was blooming, you told Sebek to go to the bench that was facing the sky

You sighed out in resignation once you didn’t find anything you thought was special for Sebek…until you saw the flower shop

Going and picking the flowers, you exchanged money with the vendor before hiding them behind your back and going to Sebek

“Sebbekkk!” You nervously smiled at him

“Why hello again, what were you even doing taking so long?” He raised an eyebrow at you in suspicion

“W-well, I was trying to find something for you and I ended up picking these out for you!”

You held out a small bouquet of flowers. Dill, gladioluses, and Heliotropes.

“If you’re going to ask, yes. I know dill is also a herb.”

His eyes focused on the bouquet and then you in shock before his cheeks burned a red deeper than yours

“…You…powerful against evil, victory, devotion…Specifically picked out for…me?”

Dear sevens, as if he didn’t deserve it

“Yes! Do you…like them?”

“Do I have permission to touch you?”

That certainly startled you, but you nodded

He hugged you tight

“I…ahem…I guess I have feelings for you…human. May I take you out on a proper date next time?” He said in a soft and slightly hesitant voice

Nodding in happiness, you wrap your arms around him, hugging just as tight

@blues824 For Sebek lovers

[cherryredstars]

1k Prompts

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Bathroom Sex, Jealousy, Penetrative Sex

Summary: A little warm up before the game starts. 

Word Count: 695 (Not Edited)

You were always such a tease. 

He almost tripped over the ball as he watched you, a scowl distorting his face. Today, the boys and girls soccer team had a game. It wasn’t unnatural for the two teams to practice together, going through drills and pair training. But usually, you and Miguel would pair up together, going toe to toe. A way to help build up the competitive nature within the both of you before a game.

But here you are, giggling and smiling with one of his teammates. You have a wide smile on your face, eyes on the ball as the two of you fight over it. You keep bumping into Peter’s side as you try to steal from one another, a loud yelp escaping you when you almost trip over the ball. Eventually, you steal the ball, his teammate falling to the ground as you kick it into the empty net. You whoop out in victory, smiling and sticking your tongue out childishly at your opponent before helping him up. It makes Miguel’s blood boil as he watches. 

But it isn’t anything to worry about, not really. Not when he has you trapped between him and the wall, your legs wrapped around his hips to keep you up as he slides into you. You mewl, all that fight and competition leaving your body as you suck him in. You lean forward, whimpering into his neck as he bottoms out with a groan. The sound vibrates in the empty bathroom, and you press your face more into his neck to muffle the sounds. Miguel coos down at you mockingly, watching how your body instantly accommodates him and sags. 

“Where did all that energy go, hm?” He whispers into your ear. You whine again, quickly moaning out when he pulls out and thrusts sharply into you. “You had so much energy when you were fucking around with Peter.”

He gives you more rough thrusts when you don’t answer, and you throw your head back against the wall. Your mouth is wide open, moaning and whining as you close your eyes. It makes Miguel hum in satisfaction. He doesn’t stop his punishing thrusts, only going faster. Your hand drops to his chest, pushing him away weakly. 

“M-Miguel! Not so rough! I still have to p-play!” You struggle to say, interrupting yourself with gasps. 

Miguel only rolls his eyes, but he still listens and softens his thrusts slightly. But he doesn’t slow down his pace. If the two of you want to get off in time to clean up and get to the field before the game starts, he needs to get the two of you to come fast. His hand trails down to your clit, rubbing it in fast circles that have your back arching. You clutch onto his arm desperately, body tensing as you feel your release building to its peak. Your legs around his hips have him in a vice grip as you moan out his name, walls clenching as you finish. 

Miguel is quick to follow, the feeling of your tight walls fluttering doing him in. He buries his face into your neck as he groans, pumping his release into you with slow thrusts until he stills. The two of you stay still, catching your breath for a few seconds. Miguel slides out slowly, setting you down to the floor. He grabs a few paper towels from the dispenser, handing you some as the two of you wipe off. When the two of you finish, you readjust your clothing and walk over to the mirror. 

From behind you Miguel smirks, “I think you can walk just fine. Don’t know what you were fussing about.”

You scowl at him from the mirror, undoing your fucked-up ponytail and fixing it. “Shut up, you jealous fuck.”

Miguel scowls at you, ruffling his hair and deeming himself presentable. Ugh, men. He grumbles something under his breath about you making shit up, flicking the back of your head. He walks towards the bathroom door, sticking a finger back at you. “Twist an ankle!”

“Take a ball to the nuts!” You shout back.

God, you hate him.

[benedictscanvas]

pretty boy, pretty girl - jamie tartt x reader

pairing: jamie tartt x fem!reader

word count: 2.1k

a/n: okay yes. it has been six months. which is actually mad to me, but there we are - whoops! i've been off following my dream and wrote this while procrastinating an assignment, so this is by no means a return!! honestly i was just itching to write it, but i don't know how much time i have for more - enjoy nevertheless <3

warnings: just a little bit of suggestion towards the end, reader is referred to as 'pretty girl' as the title implies amongst other pet names, quite a lot of swearing (some things don't change)

---

“Hi love.”

Jamie barely murmurs it as he walks past you, can’t help himself but to drag a palm along your back, one shoulder blade to the other, as he goes. 

He knows he’s bold sometimes, but he swears it’s instinct. He glances back to see whether your expression holds any discomfort, but all he finds is your grin, a tiny wave. He continues on his path towards the canteen, knowing that your corridor conversation with Rebecca is probably important.

Somewhere between here and there, he decides to get your lunch, your usual, and sits alone on a table until you appear.

You do, three and a half minutes later. As soon as he sees you, the irrepressible urge to make you grin again is back with a vengeance. He waves you over to his table with a gesture to the food he’s got for you and- there it is again.

If he was a slightly smarter man, maybe he’d consider why all it took was the sight of him to draw your lips upwards, set your eyes alight.

“Thought I’d save y’ from the queue,” he speaks, still soft, in a tone he feels he only uses with you. You match his unnecessary low volume.

“Thanks, angel,” you say easily, and you must not see his stomach doing flips, “Too good to me, you are.”

“Shut up,” he deflects, wonders if you can see him fluster at your nickname for him, “Are you still coming tonight?”

You groan. He frowns, and you quickly correct.

“Sorry. It’ll be fun.”

“Yeah, you sound proper convinced, an’ all.”

You chuckle, taking a bite out of your sandwich and taking a pause to chew. Jamie eats too, content to let you think before you speak. It was slowly teaching him to do the same.

“I’m just boring, Jamie. My favourite people are all under this roof, but usually they’re sober, you know?”

He often forgets you don’t really drink. Your friendship (however sour that word feels in relation to you) usually confined to these halls, to the pitch, to various football stadiums up and down the country. When they all get a chance to let loose, you’re very quick with the excuses, but he’s believed them blindly until this moment.

“Shit, y’ don’t drink, right? I can’t imagine that’s much fun in a club. I won’t tell anyone if you happen to come down with an illness or somethin’ this afternoon.”

You’re grinning at him again, all bright and sunny. It’s downright infectious, so Jamie nudges your foot with his on purpose and then apologises like it’s an accident.

“You’re alright,” you reassure, “I will join tonight. Even if it just proves to myself I’m not missing out on anything. Maybe Colin’s not as bad a drunk as I’ve been led to believe.”

Jamie winces.

“No, he is pretty bad,” he admits and then finally comes up with something to make you more comfortable, “Hey, what about this? I won’t drink either and we can spend the evening laughin’ at everyone else.”

You poke his hand and he tries not to drop his crisp packet.

“It’s everyone’s ‘relax and recharge’ night, Ted said. We both know you relax much easier with a few drinks in you. And I’d never judge anyone for that, I really hope it doesn’t come across like I’m judging any-“

“It doesn’t, sweetness,” he cuts in, “But actually, I’ll relax better if I’m one hundred percent positive that you’re relaxing too. What better way than judgin’ everyone else, together like?”

You purse your lips thoughtfully, mid-chew. He feels like he’s holding his breath, like he’s underwater and you’re in charge of the oxygen tank.

“Well, see how you feel when we’re there. It sounds lovely but only if you’re still up for it when we’re right next to a bar,” you say, still unconvinced. He wants to convince you fully, but he can’t decide if he should argue with you or kiss you silly before you speak again, “Hey, if not, I’ll buy you a drink?”

“Pretty sure that’s my line, love.”

“I said it, I meant it. Girls can buy drinks for pretty boys, you know.”

He thinks you might have removed his oxygen tank now. There’s some cruelty in that sentence but you don’t know you’re wielding it. He wills himself to flirt back even though it’ll only make him feel sick.

“Okay, pretty girl. One passionfruit J2O, please.”

Another grin. He’s so fucking fucked.

---

He’s been waiting for you for around forty minutes. He doesn’t know if that’s the normal amount of time you take to get ready, even if he wishes he knew, so he just waits, leaning against his car.

After fifty, he decides there’s no harm in just checking you’re alright and haven’t slipped on a sparkly floor that an evening cleaner has done a number on.

You mentioned going to the kit room to get changed, and he meets Will on his way there.

“Hey mate, you seen Y/N?”

Will looks paler than he’s ever been. Guilty. Jamie narrows his eyes and waits.

“Kit room.”

It’s all that Will says. When Jamie doesn’t walk off immediately, still waiting for an explanation for Will’s strange demeanour, Will turns around and legs it all the way down the corridor, turns left at the end and never returns.

Jamie shakes his head and continues in the direction of the kit room. The closer he gets, the more he hears. Muffled banging, shouting. He picks up the pace.

“Y/N? Love?”

“Jamie! Jamie, in here!”

Your voice floats out from the kit room and he hurries over. Still very confused, Jamie turns the door handle and finds the door won’t budge, however hard he shoves his shoulder against it.

“It’s locked, babe. Did you lock it?”

He hears your exasperated sigh and feels a little embarrassed.

“No I didn’t bleeding lock it! Well, I did, when I was getting changed, but then when I unlocked it my side it had been locked from the outside.”

Jamie struggled to put the dots together. Had Will locked you in? Judging by the running, he had… and he’d done it on purpose. A spark of anger shot down Jamie’s spine but he tried to convince himself there must be a reason.

Before he could, there was a hand on his on the door, pulling him away. It was being unlocked by another hand and then he was being shoved inside, hard enough to stumble against one of the benches. A piece of paper was thrown at his face and Jamie groaned as he heard the lock click back in place.

“What the fuck?” he muttered as he stood up fully, more dazed than angry now as he stared at the locked door.

“Jesus, Jamie, are you alright? Who the fuck was that?”

“I dunno,” he says, staring at the door as if it might have answers. Your hand on his face wakes him up, his eyes shifting to yours where you look him over with concern.

“You’re alright, though?”

You ask it like you need the answer, and Jamie needs you to stop trailing a finger along his hairline either way.

“Fine, love,” he assures you, patting the juncture between your shoulder and neck gently until your hands drop to your sides. Then he raises his voice, and he’s not really talking to you anymore, “Whoever’s locked us in here as some kind of joke won’t be fuckin’ alright though!”

No answer. He picks up the small piece of paper from the floor and reads it in his head.

Tell her, you prick.

He’s actually going to hit Roy with his car. Lightly, definitely not enough to damage him, but enough to really, really piss him off.

This was all some ridiculous attempt to make him tell you how he felt about you? Absolutely not. Never. He wouldn’t be coerced into something so delicate, so important.

“What’s it say?”

You’re peering over the top of the paper, but he folds it in two before you can read anything. His chuckle comes out strained.

“It says: Get fucking pranked. Must be Roy, he’s probably scared Will into helpin’ him, the fucker. I’m afraid it’s payback for putting all his socks on the ceiling last week, babe, an’ you’ve been caught in the middle.”

You pause, staring at your shoes. For some reason, you look far more forlorn than the situation calls for, but it’s gone before he can think about it further.

“On the ceiling?”

He nods and you giggle. It’s only as you step away from him in your laughter that he realises how close you had been. He should’ve savoured it.

It’s also only as you step away that Jamie finally gets a glimpse of your outfit and nearly reaches out to the nearby bench for strength. He’s never seen you in a v-neck anything before, let alone a dress, and he thinks it might do him in.

“You look good,” he says lamely, then tries again, “Great. Fan-fuckin’-tastic, I mean.”

“I like that last one,” you smile, ducking your head. He thinks, or rather hopes, you’re a little flustered, “Fan-fuckin’-tastic happens to be what I was going for.”

“Yeah,” he breathes, words gone as soon as he’d found them. And now he was staring. Shit.

“I like your suit,” you say, maybe breathless yourself. It must be his ears. You reach up as if you might fiddle with his lapel but just point towards it before your hand drops again. You practically fall down onto the bench you’re both stood beside and he follows, ever obedient, “Shame no one else will ever see it. How long do you think we’ll be stuck here?”

The suit isn’t for anyone except you. That’s what he’d say if he had any stupid bravery. He’s an awful coward, he thinks.

“Until Roy gets bored or Keeley finds out I reckon,” Jamie guesses, “Y’ wanna play I-spy?”

You sigh, but when he peeks at you out of the corner of his eye, you’re grinning your silly, lovely grin again.

“I spy with my little eye…”

---

It is around 11pm, when Jamie has not long fallen asleep against the jacket he had scrunched behind his head, that he feels your hand on his ankle. He can tell, as he wakes without opening his eyes, that you’re not trying to rouse him. The touch is light, feathery. Maybe an accident.

No, not an accident. It wouldn’t have lasted this long, and your thumb is drawing absentminded circles into his ankle bone. You think he’s asleep and you’ve reached out to hold him anyway.

He opens his eyes but doesn’t move. His legs are stretched out on the bench in front of him and you sit upright next his sock-clad feet, one hand on his bare ankle. You’re staring at a piece of paper so intently he wonders what could possibly be so interesting.

“This doesn’t say get fucking pranked, Jamie,” you murmur, and his hand flies to his jacket pocket. It must have fallen out when he slumped into a slumber. He’s sat up in a blink, watching the hand that had been so soothing, fall back at your side suddenly.

“I’m sorry. Shit. I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

“No, don’t,” you insist, still staring at the piece of paper. Instead of whirling on him for answers, you reach calmly into one of the boot cubbies beside your head and pull out a piece of paper from one of the boots. You chuck it at him without looking.

He unfolds it with careful, if shaky, hands.

Tell him, you silly shit.

It takes him an absurdly long time to understand what the hell this second piece of paper means. Later, when the two of you look back on this moment (and you do so often), you’ll wonder how he could have been so dense and he’ll spin you a line about how too good to be true it all felt. But in the moment, he has no lines and no words, until your hand lands heavy on his knee this time.

“Jamie,” you say softly, through a grin that is so different from your usual that he could pass out. It’s so beautiful and so strikingly lovesick that he thinks he might actually be sick, “What do you have to tell me?”

“What?”

He feels dumber than he’s ever felt. But your hand is still on his knee and now you’re shuffling closer to him on the bench.

“What do you have to tell me?” you repeat, then you poke his chest playfully as you add, “You prick.”

He still looks confused, so you clearly decide the best way to catch him up is to kiss him.

You pull away after a moment, a moment of pure heaven, because clearly you don't want to kiss him fully until he's all clued in.

"Come on, pretty boy," you say, teasing, "Figure it out. I was going to buy you a passionfruit J2O. It's the sign of all signs."

He should be laughing at your joke, but all he really wants to do is kiss you again. And again.

Maybe again.

"Oh pretty girl," he says, and he feels the rumble of his low tone in his chest. He places a hand on your face, fingers itching at your hairline, "I'll tell you anything ya wanna hear, I swear. Anythin'."

He hears your breath hitch, but he feels it too, where the meat of his palm is covering your neck.

"Anything?" you answer back, "I could have a lot of fun with this."

You scrunch up your brow like you're thinking and he's so stupidly in love with you that he just tells you. Too-soon be damned.

"Smooth talker," you laugh, giddy, and you kiss him again. And it's so good that he doesn't even remember you didn't say it back until hours later.

(at which point, you say it back so many times and in so many ways, Jamie is certain that he's the luckiest man in the world. he might not hit Roy with his car after all)

[lola-la-cava]

Met ‘23

Timothée Chalamet x Reader

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

“Y-yeah, don’t even worry about it. Who needs air?. Just… keep going” I say as they continue to tighten the corset. I grip my waist, sucking up as much air as I can.

All of a sudden, I hear a familiar voice tsk. The women helping me with my dress backs up, causing the piece of clothing to loosen.

“Did she put you up to this?”, he asked the woman. She nodded.

“Traitor!”

He laughs at my quip and comes up to kiss my cheek. “You look beautiful”

Timothée looks me up and down, examining the dress and taking my hand to twirl me. “You don’t look half bad yourself.” I giggle.

The curly haired boy gasped, “Half bad? Come on! Give me a little more credit!”

“Ah fine! You look gorgeous!” I praise, getting my body close to his to pull him in for a needed kiss.

“Ah, ah, ah. I’m not done yet! Couldn’t keep your hands to yourself, huh, lover boy?” my make-up artist comes to pull us apart and retouching my lipstick.

“How could I?” he stared at me with a love sick stare that I didn’t quite notice at the time.

Timothée hears a quick snap!from the camera. He whips his head around to see one of the photographers catch the perfect moment.

“Whoops” the guy shrugged.

“You people are sickening!” my assistant screamed from the other side of the room.

Timothée answers back, “Jealous much, Meg?”

“Ha. ha.” she teased. “I happen to enjoy being all alone, thank you very much”

I playfully roll my eyes at her antics. “Yeah, sureee”

“Aaalright, Y/N you’re set!” She pats my cheek as I look at her with grateful eyes.

Timothée’s arms wrap around my front once again as soon as she let go. His head resting on my shoulder, kissing my neck

“I just hope lover boy here doesn’t ruin your make-up”

“No promises” he giggles as he playfully placed wet kisses on the side of my head.

“I swear, you will never hear the end from me if you do” she warns him.

“Now, get on out there. Tons of people are expecting you”

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

Ah, the calm before the storm.

Well, as calm as it can get. Which was not very.

They stood in the line before getting their pictures taken. Celebrities in extravagant clothing surrounded them. Some familiar faces present that Y/N took note to say hello to later on.

Y/N smoothed over her dress and brought her hand up to fix her hair again. Timothée noticing this, he interrupted her movement and took her hand. He squeezed it three times before kissing it.

I love you.

She took her hand back and grabbed her phone from a discreet pocket on the dress.

She scrolled aimlessly through social media, trying to get feeling of impending doom of my mind.

Her eye catches a random headline from an entertainment news update account. It read:

‘Timothée Chalamet and Kylie Jenner hard launching their relationship at tonight’s Met Gala? Y/N Y/L/N left in the dust?’

She lets out an obnoxious scoff. Timmy hearing it, he looks at her screen, reading the obviously made-up headline.

“God, they’re still on that?”

He notices his partner’s silence. “Come on. You’re not really bothered by this, are you?”

She opened her mouth to say something. No words came out. She merely shrugged.

He gripped her shoulders and pulled her in for a bear hug. Timothée rested his head on hers as she got close to his chest, hearing the comforting beat of his heart that never failed to comfort her.

The couple stayed like that. “Trust me, mon coeur. I wouldn’t have this any other way. I’m perfect where I am and who I’m with”

“Shit, I actually might cry. I never know what to say when you say this sappy shit”, Y/N chuckles as she puts her hand up to mess with his styled hair.

Feeling her hand creeping his back, Timmy pulls away and bows. “I aim to please you. It’s my sole purpose in life”

A smile instantly appeared on her face and butterflies in her stomach. Nothing had definitely changed from when they first started going out. Same sparks, same chemistry, same tension. Whatever you wanna call it. It was there. They had it.

She tugged on his hand, pulling him in for one more kiss. Y/N looked at him, looking over the features she admired so much that she practically memorized them. Her gaze lands on his lips.

Some of her lipstick and gloss had transferred to his lips. She quickly tried to get the makeup off. “Shit, wait hold on. You have some-“

He smacks her hand away. “No, no. Keep it.” He rubbed his lips together getting the substance to cover all ground.

“Y/N Y/L/N and Timothée Chalamet? They’re ready for you.”

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

“Right now, I’m here with everyone’s favourite couple, Timothée Chalamet and Y/N Y/L/N” Emma, the interviewer, spoke with enthusiasm.

We’d just finished the carpet and were almost home free. Camera flashes blinded my vision as I tried not to close my eyes throughout the whole thing. Screams of my name were heard throughout the venue. Meddlesome questions and controlling demands to pose a certain way were yelled. To which, I didn’t respond to. Why should I? I maintained my balance by holding onto Timothée. You’d think after a few years, you’d get used to the bordering aggressive personalities you have to deal with every single day.

It turns out not really.

“How does it feel to be back? I mean, you guys have gone before, but how does it feel to be here as the quote-unquote, it couple?”

Me and Timmy both give awkward chuckles as we heard the last two words.

“Uh- I really don’t know about that last part, but it just feels great to share such a meaningful moment with him. I’ve personally dreamed of attending since I first saw it as a kid and to be invited for the second time… It’s just… yea”, I answer, not being able to expound on the statement.

Emma hums and gains back the mic.

“So, rumors have been swirling about the internet that actually said othewise. Do you have anything to say about that?” She points the microphone at Timothée this time, definitely hinting at the Kylie rumors.

He seems taken aback by the question, not knowing what to say and the only thing I’m able to do was squeeze his hand. Three times.

I love you.

Emma realizes this with a regretful look on her face. She leans toward both of us as she moves the mic away.

“It’s totally fine if you guys aren’t comfortable. We could just mov-“

He takes the mic, she gives him a grateful small smile.

“No, I uh, me and Y/N have actually seen a handful of tweets about this and I just wanna set the record straight and say we are very much still together”, he nods as he hands the microphone back to her.

“I think I’m right by saying that this has definitely relieved viewrs at home and me.” We laugh genuinely at her quip.

I imagine people on Twitter have stopped adding fuel to the fire after what he said and can have a better goodnight’s sleep later in the evening.

“And that’s our time. I’ll see you lovebirds inside! Have a great time together!”

We both shook her hand and left with an indebted expression for keeping it mellow (for the most part) after such a nerve-wracking red carpet.

“Very professional with that answer, Chalamet”, I hook my arms with his and leaned on his shoulder.

“Of course, ‘gotta remind everyone you’re still my girl”, he says with a smug smirk.

I laugh, “Your girl? I suppose that means you’re my boy?”

He playfully rolls his eyes. “Come on! As if you didn’t know that from the beginning”

“Ohhh, I know. I just wanted to hear it from your mouth!”

[tfgalore]

Test Of Time

“One…two…three…four….” I grunted as I struggled to lift the plate loaded bar. I set it back down, panting as I sat up, annoyed at myself. The last few weeks, and even months, I’d been getting weaker. Thanks to my aging body, I was getting weaker, it was harder to build muscle in the gym, and even people were coming up to me, telling me I looked tired or pointing out slowly graying hairs. I sighed, knowing that my 60’s was something I’d have to deal with eventually. I was suddenly snapped out of my thoughts by a excited whoop from my left. I turned to look, seeing a younger guy benching almost thrice my weight. His muscles were bulging, and he had a grin on his face. He was clearly in the prime of his youth, which made me jealous. If only there was a way to get back my youth…

That thought was the beginning of my obsession with witchcraft. At first, I just looked for ways to turn back the hands of time, to get my body back to its 20’s but I came up with nothing. Just as I was about to give up, I came across a possession spell. An idea clicked in my mind as memories of the hunk from the gym flashed in my mind. A grin spread across my face, as I delved into more research about it.

A week later, I was back at the gym, prepared to take my new life. I wiped my sweaty palms on my sweatpants, gulping as beads of sweat dripped down my face, a nervous expression plastered on. I had no clue if this was actually going to work, but I had to try. As the hunk, who’s name is learned was Sam, walked by, I quickly grabbed him by the wrist. He locked eyes with me, in confusion as he tried to pull away, but I started to mutter the spell, and our worlds seemed to spin.

I could feel my body changing. My wrinkled skin started to tighten, and glow with renewed youth as his started to crinkle slightly like creased paper. My muscles started to inflate and bulge, newfound strength flowing through them as the same happened to my legs and calves. I grinned as I looked down to see I now had muscular and toned thighs just like Sam had before. Our faces started to shift and warp. Sam was panicking. He clearly had no idea what was happening, other than the fact that he was getting weaker and weaker. I stared back up, only to come face to face with my previous self. It was like looking into a mirror, except now, I looked exactly like Sam had before.

I pulled away from the other, grinning. A quick look in the nearby mirror had me smiling from ear to ear as I flexed my bicep and rolled my abs. The control I had over each muscle was amazing. “Holy shit…it worked!” I grinned. Meanwhile, Sam was having a breakdown. He grabbed me, trying to force me to undo whatever curse I’d just done. A slight altercation and a phone call to the police later, Sam was getting dragged out by security guards, cursing and screaming that I’d stolen his body. Everyone assumed he was crazy, a man going senile after the stress of work and age had finally caught up to him.

Ever since then, living as Sam has been such a blast. Everyone was surprised when I came out as gay, but now I’ve got plenty of guys lining up at my door just to be fucked or fuck me. Sam has a huge trust fund too, but instead of dipping into that, I decided to start up an OnlyFans. Something about having guys pay to watch me jerk off or have sex just turns me on beyond anything, and I make some good money from it. I wonder if the old Sam is subscribed too. I’ve even graduated from college now. The old Sam wasn’t doing too well, but with my previous knowledge, I’ve managed to turn that around, graduating as one of the top students. Life really couldn’t get any better…and the best part, I never have to worry about getting old again. All o have to do is find another hunk when the time comes.

[alchemistc]

an: I was cleaning out my drafts and ran into this nearly-finished piece of two disasters having their first kiss. Enjoy.

the way you feel when you kiss him for the first time like fire within your bones like your soul has returned to the water like every part of you that came from a dead star is alive again

Here’s the thing. So. Like.

He’s kissing Eddie Munson, tongue and everything, hands digging into his crazy fucking hair, face twisted sideways because they’d been sitting there next to each other, close enough that their hips were touching, and Eddie was gesturing with both hands thrown wide, so that every once in a while his hand smacked Steve’s chest on accident and he murmured a quick apology before going back to his story, and Steve fucking loved listening to him rant and rave about whatever he had a bug up his ass about on any given day, he loved it so much and it seemed like the thing to do when you loved something about someone so much it made your chest tight and your head a little fuzzy.

Steve twists his head and slots his tongue over Eddie’s lips and Eddie makes a noise that Steve feels down to his fucking toes and he nips, just a bit, swallows up Eddie’s gasp and curls his fingers around his neck and licks into his mouth.

First kisses are usually either tentative or chaotic, and this one is sloppy as all get out but it’s not – it’s good. It’s so fucking good Steve thinks he could happily fucking die right this second and he wouldn’t even be mad about it. Eddie’s teeth slide along Steve’s lower lip when he sucks said lower lip into his mouth and Steve hums and blows a breath out through his nose and fleetingly imagines their entire lives expanding out before them – tables that for another day when he’s done more than make out with Eddie in the woods behind his house.

Eddie pulls back, and Steve chases, a bit, blinks his eyes back open with a pout. “You. What. You?”

It’s – Steve’s done this whole song and dance with half the girls in his age group in Hawkins, rarely ever felt this buzzing under his skin. The desperate urge to claw his way into Eddie’s chest is burning him. That’s…not the usual reaction he gets when he kisses someone.

“What the hell, Harrington? What the fuck?”

And like… okay. So. He’s had crushes before. He’s been in fucking love before and he fucking knows what it feels like and he knows what it means when someone looks at you that way that Eddie looks at him and.

“Fuck, uh… Shit, sorry man. Yeah. Should have, uh…whoops?”

“Whoops?”

Eddie’s on his feet then, his limbs akimbo as he throws his arms out, gesturing vaguely in Steve’s direction, looking at Steve like he’s grown like, three extra heads. Which. Okay so maybe he could have done better at like, explaining what the fuck he was doing but Eddie was so fucking hot when he got really in the zone with some rant or other and Steve’s been like, waiting for him.

“You can’t just go around kissing people, man!”

“I thought you were gay!” Steve says, like that explains a damn fucking thing, and Eddie whirls on him, wild eyed, like Steve’s just shouted some tightly kept secret to the world and… yeah. Alright. Fair.

“I thought you were the straightest fucking dude in America, Steve, what the fuck?”

“Oh,” Steve says, because that, yeah. That tracks. Okay. So. Yeah, he can work with this. 

He runs a jittery hand through his air, glances up at Eddie through a few strands that cut loose from the hairspray. “Yeah uh, so I guess like, no? Chicks are like, great but then here you are being so fucking adorable I wanna like, put you in my fucking pocket to keep you safe and like, take you out on a date and, I don’t know, suck your cock or something. Which is.” 

He’s rambling now, doesn’t know what to do with his hands. 

“Okay so like I guess I didn’t really think about the ramifications of this before I fucking went for it but I have been thinking about your lips on my lips for way longer than I have been acknowledging to myself and you weren’t fucking doing anything about it and I just thought I could. Do something about it. So um…no. Not. Not straight.” 

Steve imagines, for a moment, Hawkins High jocks fading out of the shadows to beat the shit out of him, bible thumping mothers intent on letting him know his sins will destroy the country and land him straight in hell, his own father telling him he won’t have a fag for a son. Feels really fucking shitty about it for about thirty seconds and then remembers he’s saved the world at least four times and internally tells them all to go fuck themselves. 

“Hey, is there a word for that? Liking both? Do you – fuck, is there like, a handbook? Do you even know? Did – but then you’re – I mean I definitely for sure got the feeling you and Robin have more in common than just being really great at saving the world, also you for sure kissed me back and – holy shit Robin’s gonna be pissed you found out before she did.”

Eddie stares at him in abject horror for about thirty seconds, but it’s not – it’s not judgy, at least, it’s more like Steve looks at Robin when she word vomits. “Jesus H Christ did you just speed run gay panic?” Which – Robin has explained that before and if Eddie knows about it then he probably also is not…not gay.

“I don’t think I’m strictly gay!” Steve says, his voice a little higher than he’d like but Eddie is pacing now, which. Not conducive to more kissing, and it’s literally all Steve wants to be doing right now. “It might not even be dudes in general, I haven’t gotten any further than you!”

“What the fuck, Harrington?” And pacing be damned, Steve hops up and cages Eddie in again, leans forward for a kiss because he’s not, like, saying no, he’s just confused because he didn’t think Steve was into it and kissing will definitely help him figure it out. Only he rolls his head back, away from Steve’s, shoulders and neck rolling back. The rest of him stays, though, and Steve slots his hands on Eddie’s narrow waist and stares at him. 

“I’m like, super into you, Eddie, and unless I’m suddenly really fucking bad at reading signals you’re also into me.”

Eddie leans forward, rolls his forehead against Steve’s. It’s nice. Not as nice as the kissing had been but…yeah, he’s cool with this. Eddie huffs out a breath of laughter, a self-deprecating little chortle that Steve recognizes and wants to dash away. “I’ve been trying really hard not to throw those signals. Just. Just so you know.”

“You’re really bad at it,” Steve tells him, fingers digging a bit into his side now, his left hand sliding towards Eddie’s back, and he doesn’t really think about it when he exerts a bit of force to drag Eddie a little closer. “To be like, fully clear here. I’m not… I haven’t been misreading, correct?”

“Fuck,” Eddie says, those wide dark eyes holding Steve’s. “This is insane. People don’t just wake up one day and go ‘hey I’m actually totally attracted to my own gender and I have literally zero bad feelings about that’ – people kill themselves about it.”

“Nearly died enough times to know I don’t care for it,” Steve tells him, and he really, really wants to fucking kiss him again but probably Eddie needs a second. “Listen, do you like me or not, because if not I am seriously overstepping right now and I don’t actually want to make this weird.”

“This is so fucking weird, man,” Eddie says but then he’s curling his fingers into the end of Steve’s shirt and fisting it there before Steve has a chance to draw back and respect his boundaries, like he’s holding himself back from more but not quite ready to let go. Steve follows his lead. “Did Robin say something?”

“Robin has been literally zero help,” Steve admits, because she really has been fucking useless and cagey and completely unwilling to give him any idea if this whole thing is reciprocated or just a fully fucking unrequited crush. “I am actually pretty emotionally intelligent, so I figured…” God he’s giving Steve that look. Again. “Vibes were there.”

“Vibes.” Eddie says, like he wants to bash his brains in. “You… you just threw all caution to the wind on fucking vibes.”

“Vibes are a thing!”

Eddie curls the hand not already fisting in Steve’s shirt around his waist, his long fingers catching at the stripe of skin exposed by the pull of his shirt. Every thought in Steve’s head feels like it’s centered right there, where he can feel Eddie’s rings warm against his skin.

Steve is like, 97.3 percent certain at this point that he hasn’t just ruined a decently important friendship, and he really, really does want to return to that zenith of his tongue in Eddie’s mouth, so he rolls his head again, nosing at Eddie’s cheek, reaching for his jaw.

Eddie shoves him back – slowly, regretfully almost. 

“Give me a fucking second, Harrington.”

“Sure. Yeah.” 

Even as Eddie goes back to pacing Steve feels good about this. Eddie Munson is probably a lot more accepting of things than most of the assholes in Hawkins but he has yet to tell Steve to go fuck himself and he seems more…overwhelmed than anything else. Surprised. He had just admitted he thought Steve didn’t go for that thing. Had he thought about it, beyond a passing ‘Steve the Hair Harrington digs the ladies’?

Jesus. He’s so fucking embarrassing. Even in his own goddamn brain.

Eddie whirls on him, opens his mouth. Shuts it and takes a few pointed steps further away from Steve. Steve very much hates that, but – time. Space. He can manage that. He takes the opportunity to enjoy the pull of Eddie’s jeans over his ass. 

Holy shit, Steve thinks to himself as he ogles the other man, holy shit he’s so very much not straight and it’s taking every ounce of willpower to give Eddie his fucking second. 

“You’re a fucking psycho,” Eddie says, and it’s probably aimed at Steve even though he still hasn’t actually turned back to look at him again. “You fully understand that what you just did screams absolute lunatic, right?”

“The – which part, exactly?”

“Steve, what if I wasn’t gay?”

It’s – kind of a sad question, if he’s being honest, because he’s suspected he likes dudes for maybe two weeks, even if it’s been nagging at him for literal months now, but he’s been that shitty kid who called people queer like it was the dirtiest word in the book, and he’s well aware at this point how fucking scary it is for anyone who is the least bit not ‘normal’ by societies standards. Especially if it’s actually true.

“I mean, I assume you’d probably give me a lot of shit and I would spend a good month too mortified to look at you before you let me off the hook?” But that question gets a little closer to the heart of it, the one thing Steve’s still a little worried about. “But…you are?”

“How the fuck did you even know?”

“The vibes!” He wiggles his fingers at that, widens his eyes like that will help Eddie understand. “And, you know. The general feeling every time you look at me like you’re half a second from eating me alive.”

“I do not!” Eddie says, a little scandalized, a little like he’s been caught out. 

“You totally do. You have…very expressive eyes.” This is new. Just balls to the wall flaying honesty, right off the bat, no hiding behind a slick smile and a clever little wink. What even is flirting, Steve thinks. In for a penny, in for a pound. “I fully thought you were gonna bend me over a table at Gary’s party last weekend.”

“Jesus fuck,” Eddie says, only he’s still not denying it, and he’s turning those same round shining eyes on Steve and – yeah. That is not a platonic fucking look. “I’m gonna take, like, three steps towards you right now. Can you. Not fucking attack me when I get there?”

“Yeah. Sure. Totally.” Robin and Nancy once ganged up on him to tell him he was basically a golden retriever in human form, and he feels every inch one as Eddie takes long, measured steps towards him. If he had a tail he’d be wagging it so fucking hard his ass would be wiggling. 

“Full disclosure,” Eddie tells him at a step and a half in. “I was actually thinking about getting on my knees and sucking you off until your soul left your body, at Gary’s party, last weekend.” Steve bites his lip, doesn’t say a word, ignores the heat thrumming in his veins. “Don’t you dare kiss me right now, Harrington,” he says, and there’s an edge to his voice that is very fucking interesting and Steve would like to explore more.

“Yep. Hands and lips to myself. Gotcha.”

“I also had a massive panic attack about it like five minutes later because you’re the best person I know and I will be fully, absolutely destroyed if I lose you, so. Before I set myself adrift here, are you sure you have a single fucking clue what you’re getting yourself into?”

“See, that’s the thing!” Steve points, just as Eddie takes another step, so his finger ends up right in Eddie’s face and he’s eyeing it like he might just pop it into his mouth. In for a penny… “You got really mad at me when you thought I was avoiding you, and I very much, totally was because I have like, two age appropriate friends and figuring out one of them might be the love of my life threw me for a fucking loop.” Too soon, way too fucking soon, he was supposed to like, at least get Eddie in his bed before he admitted that. “So. I’ve already had that crisis and I know I lied and told you it was nothing but that’s. What that was.”

The look shifts. Eddie’s eyes were already wide, so his expression doesn’t change all that much, but his eyes get a little glassy and the dimple in his cheek twitches. 

“Whoops,” Steve repeats and Eddie gathers up the hand Steve still has between them, guiding the arm down towards Steve’s side, lacing their fingers up together as he gets close enough Steve can feel his breath on his cheek.

“You’re an actual lunatic,” Eddie tells him, but he’s leaning in close, now, curling a hand around Steve’s neck. “Whoops, he says,” and Eddie shakes his head fondly, close enough that the tip of his nose swipes across Steve’s with the movement. “How long?”

“We’re still not kissing, right?” Steve asks, just to clarify, and Eddie smiles, shakes his head. “Yep. Still good with that. Sure. How long what?”

“Don’t play dumb, princess.”

“I mean – are you asking about me? Are you asking about me knowing about you? Are you asking about attraction, or feelings, or…”

“Sure,” Eddie says, and Steve supposes he walked himself into that. He’s still – Steve could count individual lashes dashed across Eddie’s eyelids, he’s so close. 

“Yeah. Alright. Me? Been trying to sort it out for a while, I think, since Vecna. For sure? Two weeks ago, when you made me come watch your campaign finale, or whatever.” Eddie’s eyes gleam with interest, and Steve can see him searching for a specific moment, but it hadn’t been a specific moment, it had been an amalgamation of the last seven months of his life, and watching Eddie in his element, threading together a sweeping close to a tale he’s been working on for a full year, seeing the kids delighted faces, thinking about all the shit they’d been through and all the terrible things they’ve seen, it had all clicked into place. “You? I didn’t know, know. Just. Robin’s always saying there are signs, if you look for them. I hoped. I was looking for them.” 

Had to talk himself into and out of reading into signs multiple times, honestly. 

“I had some very confusing boners before I understood them, so I can’t really pinpoint that one, but a while,” and Eddie’s lips curl up, which is nice. It’s one of his favorite things to do, making Eddie smile like that. “The… I liked you from the start, is the thing, so there isn’t just a single moment but… you remember that night we got up on the roof of the van and got way too fucking high?”

“You couldn’t find the Big Dipper,” Eddie recalls fondly. 

“Yeah, well, you were right there next to me, being all freakishly smart about constellations and looking at me and when you told me about your mom I wanted to just – tear the whole fucking world apart for you. So.”

“So,” Eddie says, and his voice has gone whisper soft and his breath is fanning across Steve’s face and his eyes are big and brown and soft at the edges.

“We’re still doing the no kissing part, right?”

Eddie hums. Tilts his head to the side just a bit, and his nose stripes across Steve’s cheek. “I could probably be persuaded otherwise.”

It’s – he’s –

“If I admit the panic might be coming on now, will you change your mind?”

“Absolutely.”

“Cool. I’m very chill about this.”

“Steve,” he says, and his voice is so fucking soft, and his fingers are skittering up the side of Steve’s arm. 

“Freaking out a little bit. Don’t – you can stay here, though.”

“I’ll stay here as long as you need.”

“While we’re here, you could – I mean I know I said I clocked you pretty easily but if you wanted, I would definitely be okay hearing about – how. How that happened.”

Eddie’s eyes flit up, hold Steve’s. “You lying about anxiety to get me to tell you my dirty secrets?”

“I’m not that smart,” Steve tells him, and Eddie’s smile tilts up at the corners.

[fullsunrise]

Into a Dream (M)

Word count: 1.1k

Pairing: Mark x Original female character

Genre: Fluff, Smut

Warnings: Descriptive sex, CNC elements (Characters are both consenting adults!), somnophilia, basically no plot whoops

As Mark enters the door to their apartment, he catches a figure curled up on the couch from the corner of his eye. At first he doesn't think much of it, but as he gets closer he can hear her low breathing. Did she really try to stay up waiting for him? His heart warms at the idea of her fighting off sleep in order to stay awake. How adorable, he thinks as he reaches an arm out to trace her cheek. Her nose scrunches up at the sudden contact and Mark thinks his heart might burst.

“Mark?” she calls out in the dark, unaware that he's crouched down right beside her.

“Right here, baby,” he replies, quick to comfort her worries.

“What time is it?” she asks as she slowly sits up in a dazed state.

“Time to go to bed,” Mark chuckles softly.

Normally she would let out a dramatic sigh at his comedic attempt, but Mark could tell she was too tired. Instead she wordlessly grabs his hand, letting him guide her towards their bedroom.

As they tuck themselves under a pile of blankets, a wave of tiredness finally hits him. She cuddles into his side naturally as the warmth of her body radiates. Mark waits for sleep to pull him under, but all he can think about is her breathing that matches his own. It's almost overwhelming how quickly his peaceful thoughts are infiltrated with desire. He loves when her breath hitches, when she's no longer in control of her reactions. She melts so easliy in his touch, taking everything he offers. Without thinking, he starts running circles on her lower back. He waits for her response, and although it's soft, he still feels the vibrations of her satisfied hum in the crook of his neck.

“Can I spoon you?” He asks, his voice only a whisper.

“Mhm,” she replies. He could tell she was in a half-asleep state now, no longer having the energy to form words but awake enough to respond.

With his body perfectly curled around her small frame, Mark takes the opportunity to take it a step further. His hand snakes around to caress her abdomen under her big t-shirt. Her skin is so, so soft that he can't help but skate his fingertips across her waistband every so often. Everytime his hand grazes slightly underneath her waistband, he wants to chase every little sound she makes. As he begins to leave a trail of small kisses against her neck, he feels her thighs slowly rub together.

“Let's go to sleep, hm?”

She lets out another hum, but this time more delayed than the last as her own sleepiness washes over her. He listens to her slow and steady breathing, confirming she has finally fallen asleep. Mark doesn't waste a moment, his hand now fully reaching underneath her shorts. As he gets closer to her warmth, the more she subconsciously rubs her ass against his cock in slow motions that drive him crazy. It takes everything in him not to push her underwear to the side and take her right then and there. But not yet, he wouldn't dare interrupt her sleep. When he finally reaches her clit, he lets out a deep breath as a million curses fly around in his head. How could she possibly be this wet? His patience hangs on a thread with each stroke along her folds.

“Baby, baby, baby,” he says under his breath.

Everything about her was perfect. Diving his fingers into her without hesitation, she lets out a small whimper. The way she squeezes around him makes his head spin, and fuck, he wishes it was his dick.

“Shit,” he mutters a little too loud.

“Mark?” she questions, and Mark can tell she was awake now. He silently curses at himself for waking her up, but he doesn't stop his movements. She moans softly as he fucks her with his fingers, feeling every inch of her.

“Shhh, I’ve got you baby. Go back to sleep,” Mark quietly says, laying kisses on the back of her nape.

His words seem to work as she lets out a breathless “okay” as she nuzzles her head into her pillow. Mark almost misses the way she absentmindedly spreads her legs apart more for him, and if he wasn't gone before, surely he's a goner now. His fingers push deeper inside her wet cunt, only to take them out and push them back in again. Each time he pulls out, he can feel her hips chase his hand. How needy even when she’s asleep, Mark thinks. His thumb reaches to play with her clit simultaneously, and it takes a few minutes before she releases all over his fingers, followed by a deep moan.

As she comes down from her high and her regulated breathing returns, Mark can no longer ignore how hard he is. Surely if he slides his cock inside of her now, she would wake up again. But it was a risk he was willing to take. It would just be so easy to fill her up with his cum without her knowing.

Mark shifts his body back slightly to push his underwear down, and gives his cock a few strokes before pushing her underwear to the side. The moment he slips inside of her, he swears he sees stars. He moans at her tightness, and fuck, she always takes him in so well. Her soft mewls fuel his thrusts, and it doesn't take long until he feels his orgasm approaching.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans, no longer worried if she was asleep or not.

His thrusts were sporadic now as he chased his high, too far gone to notice that she woke up. Her moans echo throughout their room as her second high quickly washes over her entire body. It's a domino effect, and Mark suddenly cums inside of her without warning. He rides his high out, fucking his cum deeper. It takes a moment for him to come back to his senses, but as he opens his eyes he's met with her beaming smile. A sense of guilt engulfs him as he smiles back at her. He knows she wanted this, but why did he feel like he got caught red handed?

“Were you awake the whole time?” he asks curiously.

“No,” she replies as she rests her head on his bare chest.

“Sorry that I woke you up,” he says sheepishly, knowing very well that he wasn't sorry in the slightest.

This earns him a chuckle, and once more his heart fills with warmth. His soft and lazy touches return, no longer rushed by aching desire. Instead they’re laced with nothing but comfort and love. Mark feels his fatigue finally catch up to him as he pulls her in tightly against his chest.

“Goodnight, my love.”

[sturniololoco]

Accident

M. Sturniolo x fem reader 

Requested: Nurp 

Warnings: fluuuuuff!!! and cussing ig??

Today was a lazy Saturday.

Meaning I was at the Sturniolo triplets house, eating their food and laying in their couch.

They didn’t mind though, seeing as Nick was my best friend and Matt was my boyfriend.

Only his brothers had no idea the Matt and I were in a relationship. 

-

It all started when Nick and I met. We instantly clicked, so I had to meet his brothers. I started hanging out with them more and more as time went on. And let’s just say Mathew Sturniolo caught my eye.

Matt and I started hanging out more too. Nick never really noticed us getting g closer and Chris never gave a fuck. 

But now Matt and I are in a predicament. Sneaking around just for a hug and the occasional kiss.

-

I was sitting in the corner spot on the couch, scrolling through instagram while eating popcorn, Chris laying longways to my right and Nick was lounging to my left.

Matt was coming into the living room to sit down after getting himself a root beer. He at in between Chris and I, rather close to me.

I was shocked at what happened next.

He leaned over and gave me a quick kiss before opening his phone to clash of clans.

My mouth fell open in Shock. So did Chris and Nick’s.

“I-I..what-…huh?” Chris studdered, staring dumbfounded at his brother.

“Whoops…” Matt said, turning his head to look at me. I could feel my face heat up with all the sudden attention.

“GIRL!?! Since when?!?” Nick shouted, his voice cracking a little as he stood up.

“Ummm…since a little bit ago?” I responded, trying to lighten the situation.

“Oh we need to talk! Chris you deal with him!” Nick said pointing at Matt before grabbing my hand and practically dragging me up the stairs to his room.

I turned to look at Matt, who was giving me a sympathetic look. Chris was still staring at him with his eyes looking like they were about to pop out of his head and his mouth wide open.

-

I told Nick everything, all the way from the beginning. When I was done talking, he said,

“Two things: ew why my brother and why didn’t you just tell me?!?” He said, remaining surprisingly calm.

“The first of all, your brother cute and nice and caring and-“ he cut me off.

“Yeah yeah yeah, skip the sappy stuff! I still have to live with that good.”

I chuckled, and was extremely thankful for how well he was taking this.

“Well, I didn’t want things to be awkward between us. You truly are my best friend and I will always put our relationship first.” If said, deciding to just tell him the truth instead of hiding anything else from him. He pulled me into a bone crushing hug.

“I’ll allow it, even though I completely disagree on the whole cute, nice and caring shit.” He told me, making me laugh and playful smacking his arm.

-

Nick and I walked down stairs about 10 minutes later. Matt and Chris were sill sitting on there spots in the couch and Chris looked a lot calmer. Matt looked over at Nick and I, looking accomplished. 

I gave him a small smile and scurried over to him, sitting on his lap. He chuckled and pressed a kiss on the top of my head.

“So glad I get to do that without getting trouble now.” He said into my ear. 

“Hmm me too.” I said giving him a big kiss on the cheek.

“EWWWWWW!” Nick and Chris screamed in exaggeration, coming over and tackling us both.

“You two are so annoying.” Matt said, rolling his eyes but smiling all the same.

“Pipe down lover boy!” Nick said, getting off of us and resuming his spot in the couch.

I cuddled up next to Matt and got comfy with a blanket after we turned our movie back on. I sighed happily knowing that I wouldn’t have to hide my feelings from Matt again.

[rogueddie]

Going on a roadtrip was both the best and worst idea that Eddie has ever had.

Oddly enough, the kids are great. Especially the boys. Between him and Steve, it's almost embarrassing how easy it is to keep control of them.

The girls too- Max is smart enough to know not to wander off alone and El tends to follow her lead. It often leads to them bullying Steve into taking them where they want to go, often having to grab his hand and drag him around when he doesn't go fast enough.

But, now that they've reached the end of their trip, Eddie is wondering if it wasn't a bad idea. Not just because Steve is obviously having some trouble both with the water and having his scars on display...

They'd become fast friends in the Upside Down. Although, he had thought it was simple trauma bonding. Imagine his horror when he realises that not only is it easy to be friends with King Steve, it's just as easy to fall in love with him.

"Eddie?" Steve awkwardly sits down beside him, looking a little embarrassed. "Would it be ok if, uh, you came... with me? Into the water, I mean. It's fine if not, just-"

"Steve," Eddie quickly cuts him off, "it's fine. That's ok, just give me a minute to make sure nothing flies away, yeah?"

Steve quickly nods, helping Eddie shove things back into their bags and then putting them on top of the towels. It's not windy at all but it's better to be safe than sorry.

"You know you don't have to go in, right?" Eddie asks, watching as Steve stalls, carefully brushing sand off himself. "I'm sure the kids will get over themselves. And if they don't, they'll have to deal with me."

The little laugh, the soft smile, feels like a reward.

"Thanks Eddie, really. I want to do this. I can't keep just... being scared. I need to deal with this shit."

"Ok," Eddie nods, matching his slow walk towards the sea. "Doesn't have to be like this though, could go slower. You can back out any time. No one will laugh."

"Right. You'll make sure they won't huh?" He doesn't say it like it's a joke. More like he understands just how fiercely protective Eddie feels about him.

"Exactly." They stop, just a few feet from the water. "We could hold hands, if that'll help?"

Steve just nods, grabbing his hand. Smiles a little tight when Eddie laces their fingers. And they don't need to talk, the look Steve gives him is enough to get his message across. So Eddie just gives him a little nod, scooting so their shoulders are pressed together, gently pulling him forward.

Eddie keeps a close eye on Steve as they slowly make their way deeper into the water. Doesn't complain that they have to stop a lot, just holds onto Steves hand a little tighter, hoping he understands that Eddie isn't going to let go.

When they finally get far enough out that they have to tread water, Steve is relaxing. He laughs a little, turning to Eddie with an ecstatic look on his face.

"Alright?" Eddie asks, unable to hold back his own grin.

"Yeah!" Steve whoops, ducking his head under the water for a quick moment. He doesn't look any less joyful. "I, uh... don't think I can do much more than this but- fuck, Eddie, I'm swimming!"

Eddie can't help but laugh, reveling in how infectious Steves joy is. "You're amazing, big boy! This is fucking impressive!"

"Really?" Steve is grinning though, as though he already understands that- he most likely just wants to hear it.

"So impressive!" Eddie can't help but drift a little closer. "God, Steve, every time I think you can't get better you always do."

Steve fucking giggles. And at first, Eddie thinks he's grabbing onto his shoulders for support, but Steve uses his grip to pull himself closer. "I'm pretty sure that's just you."

"Maybe," Eddie tries to pull a 'what-can-you-do' face, since he can't shrug with Steve using him as as support. "Doesn't mean I'm wrong."

Steve, abruptly, looks a little serious. "You act like I can do no wrong."

"I'm pretty sure that's impossible for you. It's against your nature."

"Really? You truly believe there's nothing I could do that would upset you?"

"You wouldn't hurt me intentionally."

Steve stares at him for a moment. His jaw tightens, visibly coming to some resolve, a look of determination.

"Steve-"

He's cut off by Steve quickly ducking forward, pecking him on the lips. Steve still has his jaw clenched when he leans back, only a little bit of fear peaking through his eyes.

Eddie blinks at him for a moment. "Please tell me you didn't do that just to prove a point. Please. Steve, you- you gotta tell me if you meant that like- like-"

"Eddie," Steve almost sighs his name, sounding so painfully relieved. He presses their foreheads together. "Yeah, yeah I meant it like- like that. It's not just proving a point, god, you're so much more than-"

Eddie cuts him off by actually kissing him, not just a peck, grabbing onto Steves hips to hold him closer.

They're so distracted, it takes them an embarrassingly long time to notice that the kids are heckling them.

[sugarpasteltmnt]

You write unhinged Leo so well, and I really like how you write him. I was wondering if you had tips on unhinged characters 😂, or do you just get inspro from existing characters 👀

aksdakjsdh thank you so much ;w;

And honestly???? I’m not totally sure how to give tips— but I love, love, love unhinged characters in media, so I’ll use them as examples

(long rant below lol)

I’ve always been a big fan of silly, ‘crazy’ characters in animated movies and cartoons. I grew up on Batman the Animated Series and the original Teen Titans, which were full of silly, fun tragic characters.

Don’t get me wrong, i love a good edge-lord— but as a tot i thought the colorful, theatrical, insane bad guys were more fun to watch than the big scary serious ones (ESPECIALLY if they had a good villain song. A+ good shit)

(From left to right: Ratigan from Great Mouse Detective, Joker from Batman the Animated Series, Mumbo Jumbo from Teen Titans, Martin from Secret of Nimh 2, Bill Cypher from Gravity Falls, and Spinel from the Steven Universe movie)

And not just bad guys!! There are a ton of unhinged good/neutral characters that i absolutely adore.

(From left to right: King Bumi from ATLA, Clara from Welcome to Demon School Iruma-kun, and, of course, our silly 2018 turtle boys)

((There are many more characters in both categories, but I’ll slide these examples in here for now))

My personal brand of “Unhinged” or “Crazy” characters definitely leans on comedy. That’s what i enjoy seeing and reading! I personally like it because it can help keep a story fresh and interesting. There’s an element of surprise and unpredictability with what a character might do, and i love that!!

I also really enjoy a touch of feral behavior in my unhinged characters. The lack of clarity and the danger that imposes can be a very fun tool to use, no matter the character’s moral compass. (I’m feral for feral behavior lol)

And impulses. Whether a character has a few screws loose or is generally a goober, they like to act on impulses. This often goes hand-in-hand with comedy, and that’s something I enjoy!! We get a lot of moments like that in Rise, and that was one of my favorite parts of that TMNT iteration.

But as far as writing goes, it’s been tricky for me. All of the characters I grew up or love have been visual— trying to find a good balance for reading has been a puzzle I’ve been figuring out as I go.

I read a lot manga (lol nerd) and comics, and I love how thoughts/dialog are depicted. Especially the really dramatic or impactful moments. (I’d add examples but I’m already at the Tumblr image limit LAME)

As strange as it sounds, I try to capture that “impactful visual” style in my writing. If I had ANY advice on writing unhinged characters, pay attention to pacing—

Short. Fast. A calculating thought. Perhaps a run on sentence that lacks punctuation to represent the rushing and disorganized thought process. A question? An answer with little thought. Is this moment amusing; describe how. Is it upsetting; describe how. Are the thoughts starting to scatter? M aybe s o…

Big moment statement.

Action or plan of next big move. Flow should never seem too uniform. Even in normal writing. Don’t be afraid of accentuating— but don’t overdo it. Remember, unhinged characters are impulsive. Have fun with that.

Just as a quick and dirty summary— when it comes to unhinged characters, I like to use comedy, feral behavior, and acting on impulses. I also like to keep it as visually appealing as possible for characters to give the eyes a little treat after reading walls of text. I like to use fun text formatting to help with the fun too (But don’t overdo it! Don’t make it feel like a chore to read) (<- says the girl who goes into way too much details sometimes lmao whoops)

But ultimately— have FUN!!! Unhinged characters are fun, so make sure you have fun writing/drawing/creating them!!

[dilfl0v3rss]

boxer!todo who trains almost every damn day. always wanting to be at his top physique at all times.

boxer!todo who lets you come with him to every training session or workout at the gym so you don’t get lonely.

boxer!todo who is undefeated due to his raw strength and ability to adjust to anyone’s fighting style. he’s beaten men bigger and faster than him because he’s just that good.

boxer!todo who doesn’t allow you to come to some of his fights. not wanting you to see how gruesome it could get in the ring.

“papa why notttt” you whined, feet stomping on the ground as you followed your boyfriend around the house. “cause i can tell how it’s gonna go. ion want you seeing all the blood and bruises ma.” he said calmly as he bent down to grab a water from the fridge. “but he was talkin so much shit at the press conference. talkin bout how he’s the best and how you never gon amount to him. wish i could fuck that nigga up myself.” you mumbled your last sentence, making todo chuckle as he watched how upset you were getting. you took the insults worse than him, and he was the one getting them. “don’t worry mama ima whoop his ass. jus need you t’stay here when the day comes while i go handle my business, aight?”

boxer!todo who spends his day offs taking you out or chilling with you at home.

boxer!todo who spoils you rotten with most of his money. if there’s was something you liked, expect it to be at your doorstep within the next week.

boxer!todo who makes sure you always have a good view of him at the fights he lets you attend. loving how you scream for him when he does a move he’s been working on or how you’re quick to lift him up when he takes a particularly hard hit.

“cmon pa we eat those”

“you got it baby hit him in the body”

“focus todo! you not done yet!”

“uhh huhhh he can’t fuck wit you baby”

he loved hearing your pretty voice.

boxer!todo who made sure to give you a reward for keeping him in check during ever match.

“you my good little motivator ain’t you mama?” his thrusts were quick, large hand pressed down lightly on your stomach so he could feel himself moving inside of you. “mhmm. you d-did so good daddy” you moaned. todo smiled as he began fucking you deeper, making your back arch off the bed as he caressed your cheek with his other hand. “did good ‘cause i had you there to cheer me on. love makin my pretty girl proud. you proud of me ma? lemme hear you say it.” todo didn’t care about how anyone else felt about him, but you. always seeking your validation after a good fight. “m’so proud of you. there’s n-nobody better papa.” “uhh huh. nobody.”

boxer!todo who also fucks you so good when he’s not happy with his performance after barely winning a fight that should’ve been “light work” for him. feeling that since he couldn’t give his all in the ring he’ll make up for it in the bedroom.

boxer!todo who never went out partying after his fights. always choosing to relax at home with you rather than be in a room with a bunch of drunk guys and bitches with their asses out.

boxer!todo who has you wear his chain during every match. you bought him the chain as a gift when he won his first fight as a pro boxer. it wasn’t the most expensive, but it was still worth a lot. you saved up for months to get it for him and he almost cried when you showed it to him.

“you didn’t have to-” “yes i did. you been working so hard and you deserve it. gon be the best there ever was baby” todo’s eyes began to water as he let you put the chain around his neck. it fit nice, sitting right over his strong pecs. “cant wear it while i fight so ima need you t’keep it safe f’me. that okay ma?” you nodded your head before giving him a passionate kiss on the lips. “i don’t mind wearin it as long as you continue to think of me” todo smiled, wrapping an arm around your waist as he pulled your head into his broad chest. “always.”

boxer!todo who keeps a level head for most of his fights, never really letting the trash talk at the conferences get to him. he saw no point in trying to get a rise out of his opponent and felt that they should feel the same way, but they never did. there was only one time he let his anger take over and it nearly got him disqualified.

“a.t how do you feel about your ability to win this fight” the reporter said. todo kept his face serious as he thought about his answer. “well i been training real hard, learning some new skills. i feel like if i keep my head straight and fall through with my plans i should be able to win this thing.” he toyed with his chain as he spoke, not really thinking anything of this little event and just wanting to get home to his pretty girlfriend. the reporter asked his opponent the same question, and while he answered he noticed todo wasn’t paying attention to him at all. still playing with the gold around his neck. he noticed that it was the same chain he’d see you wearing when he would come to scout todo’s matches. a smirk planted on his face before he uttered something he’d come to regret. “yea i know ima win. and after i do, ima bring me a honey home. might even give his little girlfriend a taste since i heard she got a thing for winners.” loud gasps immediately filled the room as well as your living room while you watched the whole thing live on the edge of your couch.

everyone waited for todo to retaliate, but he didn’t. he kept calm as a small chuckle flew from his lips. holding his head down as he began to crack his knuckles. “we’ll see.” was all he said before the press moved on with their next question. everyone thought he was fine. his opponent even slumped down in his chair a little more as he thought his insult did absolutely nothing, but you knew the truth. todo only cracked his knuckles when he was angry. really angry. usually only doing so to keep himself from punching or breaking something. when he got home that night he acted as if everything was fine, but you could tell he thought about it all the time. by the way he’d hit the punching bag with a little more force than usual or how he nearly sent his trainer flying out the ring before walking towards his locker room. todo was pissed.

when the day came he made you promise not to come to or watch the fight. the seriousness in his tone made you worry, but you fell through with your promise because it meant so much to him. when todo came home it was a lot earlier than you’d imagine. his fights usually took thirty minutes to an hour, but at this rate his opponent couldn’t have lasted longer than the first round. “you win?” voice small as you watched your boyfriend quietly walk straight towards the bedroom. “mhm…” he walked into the room, closing the door behind him. you scrambled to your phone to see what could have him acting like this. a quiet gasp left your lips as you watched clips of the very short fight. like you thought, the poor guy didn’t last the first round. receiving blow after deadly blow from your boyfriend before eventually getting punched so hard in the face that he flew to the other side of the ring. “mama get in here! need you right now.” you smiled before taking a deep breath and skipping your way to your bedroom.

boxer!todo who fucked you the best when he was hot and jealous after a fight.

[rosewaterandivy]

rack 'em up!

Summary: in hustling, ya gotta keep the score real simple. count your money at the end of the game, and walk away.

Pairing: s.h. x fem! reader

WC: 1.6k

Warnings: NSFW 18+, drinking, cursing, & pool shark steve

A/N: A continuation of our Modern Love series featuring Steve 🥰 Reblogs, likes & feedback are appreciated - reposting is not. Enjoy! 💜

The first time you’d met Steve Harrington, you hadn’t been yourself. It was Halloween night and one of your best friends had somehow convinced you to go out with her to a local bar. You were in your Audrey Horne finest — pink sweater, plaid skirt, Mary Janes and all — while your bestie had settled for the Log Lady, classic Twin Peaks. 

Thighs sticking to the cracked vinyl seat, you nursed a beer only half-listening to your friend’s bitching about her grad school class. Sitting at the bar, you felt exposed. And sure, she was there and had been supportive throughout this ordeal. But still — it was the first time you’d been out since the break-up. 

Shaking your head, you tried to rid yourself of the incessant thoughts which were proving less than helpful. She quickly noticed your discomfort, she worried her lips and tried to get the bartender’s attention. “We can go if it’s too much babe,” she murmurs softly, “Or at least head up to Paschal’s where it won’t be as crowded.”

“No, this is fine,” you insist, taking a sip from your beer, condensation gathering on the glass. “I’m just getting used to it is all.”

She gives you a small smile, “Okay, but let me know when you want to bounce.”

The bar fills up rather quickly from there. The breaking of racks sounds out from the pool tables in loud cracks, quickly followed by loud whoops and hollers. The pair of you were occasionally jostled by patrons opening their tabs and ordering food or drinks. Coming to the end of your beer, you nod to her and she signals for the check. 

Someone slides in behind you, sending your pint glass tumbling to the bar top the remnants of lukewarm beer readily making its way toward your lap. You quickly stand to avoid the spill and back up.

Large, warm hands lightly grasp your arms, causing you to jump, “Oh shit,” he says, voice apologetic, “That was my bad, I’m so sorry!”

Turning in the stranger’s grasp, you catch Liz’s wide-eyed gaze, “No harm, no foul,” you insist, “Quick reflexes and all.”

The sight of him makes you want to drop dead. A furrow in his brow and lip worried between his teeth — too handsome for his own good.

“Let me make it up to you.” His thumbs graze over the fabric of your sweater as you nod. He turns to the bartender and leans over the bar top to say, “Hey man, can I get two IPAs, a stout, and whatever else the lady would like?”

He glances back to you, waiting. 

“She had a saison!” Your friend helpfully pipes up from behind you. 

“Thanks,” he smiles at her, “Can I get you anything?”

She flushes under his attention and places her order before pulling you to the side out of earshot. Her eyes gleam in mischief when she says, “Ooh girl, he is fine.”

You can’t argue, he is objectively attractive. All coiffed hair and tan limbs, definitely out of your league. Involuntarily, you curl in on yourself.

“Hey,” she scolds, “Don’t do that.”

As if she could read your thoughts.

“Yeah, under Harrington man. Thanks!” 

Schooling your expression into a semblance of cool, you smile when he leans back hands you the drink, your fingers brushing briefly. 

“I am really sorry about that, by the way.” He says, eyes clouding over with worry. “Hope it didn’t ruin your night.”

“Not at all,” you say after taking a sip, “We were about to head out anyway.”

She elbows you something fierce and narrows her eyes.

“What she means to say, is that we were about to head upstairs.” 

The stranger nods, “That’s cool.” 

It’s only then that you notice the three other beers in his hands in a triangle formation, condensation growing steadily on each glass. You meet his gaze, “D’you need help with those?”

When he smiles, it’s slow and saccharine. “Don’t worry about it, honey.” He nods toward the pool tables, “But you can come along, if you’d like?”

Your best friend all but yanks your arm out as he walks toward a group of people surrounding the pool table. He hands the respective drinks to the man and woman arguing over stripes and solids. 

“I broke, so I get to call Rob!” The man with long hair pulled up into a bun insists. “It’s like, common courtesy.”

The woman, Rob, takes a brief sip of her beer, top lip coming away covered in foam. “But polite society dictates that you should offer the choice to me, Eddie.”

Eddie rolls his eyes before noticing the new additions to the group. “Harrington,” he says with a smile, “Care to introduce us?”

The man’s eyebrows raise, “Oh, um,” he begins before faltering. “This is—“

Your bestie swiftly butts in to introduce you both. “Nearly ruined her night,” she jokes, “Beer stained skirt is a sure-fire ticket home.”

Eddie laughs along with her and turns back to the game of pool. “Whaddya think then?” His eyes meet yours, “Solids or stripes?”

Robin scoffs indignantly and chalks her pool cue. 

His attention catches you off-guard, “Oh, um,” you echo Harrington, “Stipes, I guess?”

Eddie smiles and leans down to take his shot, “Excellent choice.” He sinks two stripes in the corner pocket and rises lazily to sip his beer.

Your friend, meanwhile, made herself scarce, socializing with Rob across the pool table. Harrington, first name unknown, eyed the game briefly.

“Take over for me?” 

He glances across the table and takes the outstretched cue. “Sure thing Rob.” He brushes past you with a cautionary hand to the small of your back, “Sorry.”

Your friend and Robin continue their conversation at a nearby high-top table, while Harrington lines up his shot. Left alone with your beer, Eddie makes his way to your side. “This game is about to become distinctly unfair,” he grouses.

“How so?”

“Steve’s a pool shark,” he shrugs, “Good thing Rob and I didn’t bet on this game, he’d take me to the cleaners.”

You laugh at that, “Well, considering that she abandoned the game, I think that makes any bets null and void.”

“Maybe so.”

You sip your beer, conversation with Eddie coming easily. “I could give him a run for his money,” You say off-handedly, “If you wanted to make it interesting.”

The cue ball cracks against the remnants form the rack, two solids falling into the side pocket. Eddie gives you a wicked smile, “That so, sweetheart?” He chuckles and takes a drink, “Bit of a hustler yourself?”

You shrug casually, “Had a shit dad,” you supply, “Learned a thing or two in the bars he frequented.”

“Fair enough,” he says before turning to Steve, “Harrington!”

Steve stops his perusal of the pool table. Eddie chalks up the cue and passes it to you. “Care to make this game a little more interesting?”

Bets are taken — 3 to 1 with odds in your favor; you had graciously elected to abstain from betting. Unfortunately, the same could not be said for your best friend. 

(“Oh my God, this is the greatest,” she crows, “The last time she played, she made a dude cry.”)

Steve, it had to be said, was indeed a shark; the game was evenly matched. Before long, a group had gathered around you to watch. Eddie kept the drinks coming while Robin insisted you both eat something. 

Steve lined up to take his turn; it was a long shot, “Eight ball, left corner pocket.”

As he leans over, his shirt rode up slightly along his back revealing tan skin and toned muscles. You feel yourself begin to get hot under the collar. Eddie thrusts a cold can of beer into your palm, “Steve, make yourself decent, for fuck’s sake.”

He blushes at that, shot falling just shy of his call. The eight ball rolling to a stop on the precipice of the pocket. You let out a low whistle, holding the can against your forehead for relief. 

“Wouldn’t be taking it easy on the lady, would you Harrington?”

Hazel eyes meet yours for a brief moment. He winks at you as you open the can to take a sip. “Not at all, Ed.”

You sip slowly, the cool beer alleviating your parched throat. Swallowing, you wipe a hand across your mouth and set the can aside. “That’s a shame,” you say approaching the table with a sway in your hips. “Get ready to pay up, pretty boy.”

Eddie cackles at that, Robin and your bestie howling in laughter. The patrons watching the game unfold let out whoops and whistles. It would be easy enough to simply tap the eight ball in the corner pocket, ending the game handedly. 

You instead opt to ricochet the cue ball along the sideboards with enough force to propel it into the corner pocket with an audible crack. A wave of cheers erupts around you as Steve’s head dramatically drops in defeat. Eddie, Robin, and your friend bumrush and crowd you against the pool table. 

“To the victor, go the spoils!” Robin hollers, turning you toward Steve.

You extend your hand, palm outstretched awaiting the payout. “Cough it up, pretty boy.”

With a huff, he digs his wallet from his back pocket and counts out the twenties. His fingers are warm against yours, you give him a small smile. “No hard feelings?”

He smiles in return, “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Clasping the bills in your hand, you eye him up and down. Insecurity and shyness from earlier in the night alleviated from the progression of beers over the evening. “Tell you what,” you say, scrambling for a pen and paper, “If you ever feel like getting your ass handed to you again,” you jot down your number, “I’m available.”

He takes the scrap of paper from you with a slow smile, “Good to know.”

And if someone airdrops you a new contact before you leave, then so much the better.

Pretty Boy Steve: soooo, rematch?

[adaptacy]

You mind writing a little Johnny Slaughter thing where the reader is southern, too? Not from Texas, but maybe from a whole nother state like Louisiana or Mississippi. Like, *really* southern- thick drawl, sassy attitude n everything. If it's not too much to ask, could the reader first start out as a victim? But the thing is, they're not really one to mess with. They're witty, quick, and honestly a bit of an asshole. They're worried about themselves- going as far as to sacrifice the other survivors to ensure their own survival. Maybe even off one themselves, quickly realizing that they like killing just as much as the rest of the family. Love ur work! (Also, have you heard about the new Nancy leaks? I'm so excited to see her, you have no idea.)

OMG OFC WAIT THIS IS GONNA BE SO FUN!!

i love requests ongogngrij

also YES!! I love her so much!! i saw someone (i think it was creepling's post) about what Nancy would think about johnny getting a soft spot for someone and oh god the brain juice started flowing with that. i think her and johnny will def be my mains bcs ive been dying for another female family member that isnt sissy (no hate to sissy, but i tried her and she just wasnt as fun as johnny)

anyways anyways anyways, here you go! this is gonna be fluff, but if you want an nsfw part lmk and i can make that work ;) <333 hope you enjoy!!

this is gonna be kinda cheesy and cute aside from the death (whoops) but if i do an nsfw it'll be more serious. i just thought this would be a good opportunity to write a jaw-dropped johnny who's like "oh shit i think im in love"

"The hell you wantin' now?!" You snarled, cracking your neck as you squared off with a man nearly twice your size. He was used to this kind of fighting back, but there was something about your volume, your genuine anger that was new to him. It was intriguing. He almost wanted to study your brain before he ate it.

"All that, and you still got caught, sweetpea. Ain't that quite the case of karma?" Johnny chuckled, casually spinning his blade in his hand. Beneath his feet was a brunette boy, far too bloodied to be anywhere near alive. You didn't know him, didn't care about him, and you were far more concerned with your own well-being than the safety of some stranger.

"Don't tell me yer gettin' cocky now, pretty boy?" You laughed. You'd wrestled unruly gators twice his size, you could manage this egotistical megalomaniac. Hell, you didn't win a championship in bull-riding for sweet talking it.

"Ain't you a little too pretty to be talkin' so much?" Johnny pouted, sulking closer with his head tilted.

"Ain't you a little too muscular to be flirtin' with yer food?" You rolled your eyes, gripping the kitchen knife tighter in your hand. He'd been so preoccupied with the random teenagers to keep an eye on you, exactly as you'd planned. While they were playing duck duck goose in the rickety basement, you'd been granted easy access to the family house. And with it, the kitchen. And with that, the knives.

Your knife was much larger than his, and it made up for the size difference between your bodies. You knew for a fact he was underestimating you, most people did. They thought you were all bark and no bite, but your bark was only really half your bite.

"I've made pie with apples mer fearsome than you," you teased. The man furrowed his eyebrows, seeming a little stung by your remark.

"The hell you from, anyways?" He shook his head, still not letting his guard down, but he seemed to be a little less on the offense.

"Louisiana, born 'n raised. Ain't you able to tell? Or you too dumb for that?"

"Drop the damn knife," Johnny demanded, and you couldn't help but laugh. Literally laugh. Not just giggle, not just chuckle, not just scoff- full-on laugh at his attempt.

"Or what? You gon' stab me with that there lil butterfly blade?" You mused, waving a hand in the air. "I'd like to see you try," you added, your tone a little lower.

Johnny opened his mouth to reply, but there was a voice from behind him, instead. "You-- You killed them! You killed all of them!" A female yelled, sounding hurt and angry. Both of you paused your bickering to turn towards an angry girl, a small pointy bone in her hand. "You killed my sister!"

Johnny scoffed, looking the girl up and down. You eased up as well, watching the interaction. "Ain't you see we was talkin'? Could'a waited your darn turn, missy," you grumbled, finding the interruption rather rude. The girl turned to you, her eyes wide.

"You-- You're that bitch at the bar! You gave my friend a concussion!" She accused, and you scoffed.

"Now, I would neva-- Oh, oh, she's yer friend? Well ain't that right rich! Small world, ain't it?" You laughed, reminiscing on the bar fight you'd gotten into after some city boy claimed he could take more rye whiskey than you. You were practically raised- hell, made out of whiskey. You had to show him up, obviously. It wasn't your fault his little girlfriend couldn't handle him losing.

It seemed as if the girl couldn't choose between who to attack, but when she finally did make up her mind, you found yourself in the hot seat. You assumed it was because she was more confident taking down you than she was taking down the man, but it was merely another case of underestimation. She swung the bone shiv towards you, and although Johnny stepped forward to do something, you had it handled.

You were the last woman who needed a man to rescue her. 'Specially against a pipsqueak like this chick was. As she rushed forward, you drove the kitchen knife directly into the girls gut. You weren't sure what possessed her to make such a foolish move as to charge at a woman with a knife, but it made for an easy means of defense. The brunette gurgled as blood splattered onto your mouth, hitting your cheek as she fell over your arm, eventually collapsing.

You twisted the knife out of the girls gut, reaching up and wiping the blood off of your cheek-- or, trying to, anyways, but you only really managed to smear it on your face. You scoffed in irritation, wiping the blood off on your shirt, and doing the same with the knife. After all, you didn't want to risk damaging the blade from the blood. It seemed like a good quality vegetable slicer.

With a simple clearing of your throat, you shook the girl off of your leg, looking back at your opponent. He was frozen in place, his eyebrows furrowed and his face contorted in a mix of confusion and disgust. "Now, where was we at? Them city girls just ain't got no manners. Momma neva raised 'em right," you complained, giving the kitchen knife a once-over before looking back at Johnny.

He blinked, remaining silent.

"You still home, or you gone out to get groceries?" You frowned, confused as to why he wasn't responding. You snapped your fingers and swung your weight onto one leg, placing your free hand on your hip. "Mister muscles? You missin' yer brain?"

"Who are you?"

You chuckled, shaking your head. "I was merely defendin' myself. Ain't nuthin' special 'bout it. Now, where's we at? You still wanna go, pretty boy?"

Johnny licked his lips, pulling his head back. He tucked his knife into his pocket, and a small smile spread over his face. "You wanna go out sometime?"

"Kidnappin' and threatenin' a woman ain't no way to get 'em in yer bed," you scolded, tilting your head. "I know yer mama's taught you better'n that. Ain't she?"

"You like rye whiskey?"

You smirked. "That's more like it. Count me in."