#this shit has been getting out of hand already

[caraphernellie]

can you write something about reader and ellie being in a new relationship! they’ve only had sex a few times and in this particular instance, ellie finds out reader has a praise kink. soft dom!ellie pls<3333

MEOWWWWWW this 😭 is 😭 the cutest 😭 idea 😭 ever 😭😭😭 softdom!ellie my favouritest ever. you will almost always find me writing softdom!ellie. um also this ended up being way longer than i intended! so... this was meant to be like, a blurb. a few paragraphs. it's over 900 words. yeah

cw: softdom!ellie, sub!reader, oral (r!receiving), finger sucking, overstim, looooots of sappy praise !!

　　　　　mdni  ,  nsfw  under  the  cut  ౨ৎ

"shh shh shh."

soft coos echo in the room, ellie trailing tender kisses up your stomach. the love is so fresh that the two of you can't help but be a little shy still, though, you more than ellie. the girl was glad to get her hands on you the very first time you'd let her. 

weeks later and she's just as enthusiastic, though reminding herself to steer things slower and gentler. you're still learning so much about each other, like what sets or ruins a mood, what's strange but stimulating, and especially for ellie – she's paying close attention to learning just how much you can take.

slicked fingers prod at your lips and without a second thought you part them. the fingers flatten on your tongue, and ellie's lips curl upwards when you accept it with a pleased hum.

"you can taste yourself, can't you?" she whispers, nipping at the skin of your jawline. the room's almost dead silent, aside from honeyed words and the lewd sounds of you sucking her fingers. "doesn't it taste good, babe? uh-huh… i know."

eager with her hands, ellie's had no issue with the physical aspect of sex. but this is the first time she's been so verbal in the moment, and she's already picking up on the difference it's making. what an effect it's having. and all it does is go straight to her head. a steep boost to that ego of hers, which to be fair, could use one.

ellie slides her fingers out of your lips and chuckles to herself, smearing spit over them, thinking about how pliable and docile you are three orgasms deep into her bed.

"just gotta have a taste," she murmurs, so close to your ear that you can feel her breath fan against you. it's so warm, as is the rest of the room, the scent of sex ruminating in the air. she dips down, resting back between your legs.

she's so focused until your hand paws at her head, taking grip of her hair, and you mumble the tiniest, "too sensitive, don't think it's a good idea, so–"

"oh, no baby, you can take it," ellie encourages, a less cocky and more reassuring smile left on her face now. "you're so good at taking what i give you, i think you can handle this. just one more for me, yeah?"

holy shit. the reassurance has such an effect– you feel it hard as you attempt to let go and let ellie continue. she pays no mind at first, hands languidly pushing apart your thighs, handfuls squishing at your skin. and yet your mind is still lost over her words. she's been borderline worshipping you all night and yet you're beginning to realise that what is setting tonight apart from all the others is her being so verbose. the praising of your body and your submission – the voice in which she says it and you can tell she means it.

first, she tucks that one temperamental strand of hair back behind her ear, and then she licks a tentative stripe down your soaked pussy. 

before your shaking hand takes leisure in ellie's hair – which she knows would end in fruitless tugging – she catches your hand in hers. "that's it, pretty girl. mmh, i know it's so intense, but you're gonna lay here and take it all, ain't that right?"

you nod so fervently, squeezing ellie's hand. she's definitely been beginning to notice this sudden affinity for her praises. it's amusing, yet at the same time, so rousing. 

a soft kiss against your clit has you bucking your hips closer, yet your hips want to wriggle away. you can't tell what you even want. but that's okay, isn't it? ellie's already decided for you.

thumbing at your clit now, ellie gives you a wide grin, watching you struggle and writhe. "oh, is that too much?" she watches you shake your head, admiring the look of sweet determination on your face. "no? good girl."

she all but dives into your cunt, lapping and sucking your cum like she's starving. she won't stop until you've covered her face in it. she's making careful, very intentional use of words now– rasping them against your hot skin so that you truly, physically feel her praise. feeling your hand squeeze hers so tight eggs her on, her eyes boring into your own. ellie watches you try at anything to ease the overstimulation, your free hand grasping and squeezing your tit. she listens to your mewls and moans over the sounds of her slurping your pussy.

"that's it, baby," ellie coos, "i know, i know. you're being so fuckin' good for me."

"ellie," you sigh, she can see it clearly, how fast your breathing picks up and how your legs threaten closure around her head. "ellie, oh, oh my god."

"you taste too sweet, baby," ellie muses, watching it all go right to your head. the way your eyelids droop, you're close. 

this has been her greatest bedroom discovery yet. with you teetering on the edge of orgasm, she makes her next words count, her voice reverberating against you. "be a good girl now, cum for me."

[rafeandonlyrafe]

executive orders

words: 3.8k

warnings: 18+ only, ceo!rafe, assistant!reader, mean!rafe but equally mean!reader lol, p in v sex, unprotected sex, pretend marriage (like fake dating but fake marriage hehe)

“so…” the woman says, heels clicking down the pristine hallway as you quickly follow. “as you were told in the interview process, mr. cameron is a very particular man. as his personal assistant, your focus is more on his well-being than the business.”

“okay, i understand.” you nod. you find the whole thing odd. the interview process where you didn't actually meet the man you'd be the personal assistant to. his semi nondescript job. ceo. of some company named after him, but you don't know the specifics on what his role actually includes.

“just know…” she pauses outside of the large door leading into the room. “this isn't going to be an easy job. it's why you're making a lot of money.”

“okay.” you say again. the more you learn, the more concerned you are, but you're willing to try, even if just for one day.

“and you're paid for through the cfo. mr. cameron does not have firing rights no matter what he says.”

you're not sure what she means, but it becomes very apparent when the moment you step through the door, the man you presume to be mr. cameron let's out a growl.

“serena, i told you i don't need a fucking babysitter!” you turn around, but the door has already been shut behind you. you can hear serenas heels clicking quickly down the hallway. you had completely forgotten her name in the stress of your first day, but you commit it to memory before turning to the ceo.

“hello, sir.” you say quietly. “im y/n.”

“i don't need you.” he grunts out before focusing on his computer, typing rather angry and aggressively. you stand frozen, waiting.

“i said i don't need you. leave. you're fired.” mr. cameron says.

“i um… i don't think you can fire me. sorry, sir.”

his fingers pause as he looks up at you, seeming to finally really see you as his eyes move down then back up your body. you weren't sure what to wear so you're dressed in a black work dress with long sleeves and a pair of flats. under his watchful eye, you wish you would have worn something less form fitting.

“i hate being called sir.” he says.

“okay, mr. cameron then.” you take a few shuffling steps forward.

“rafe.” he shakes his head. “just rafe. mr. cameron is my fucking dad and he's dead.”

your instinct is to say sorry for his loss, but you can't find the words, which ultimately seems to be the right thing as rafe hums then turns back to his computer screen.

you watch him work for a few minutes, occasionally looking around the sparsely decorated office. you swear every time you look away, rafes eyes move up to look at you, but by the time your gaze travels back to him, he's back typing on his computer.

“goddamn it.” he groans out. “don't just stand there all day. if you're gonna be here and i can't fire you, you might as well sit down.”

“oh!” it takes you a minute to realize he's talking to you as his eyes don't stray away from the screen, but then you're quickly moving to sit on the chair positioned on the other side of his desk.

you sit again, watching rafe, watching the clock, watching the view out the window. “what would you like for lunch, si-rafe?”

“whatever.” he waves his hand. “it's not your job to get it. someone will bring lunch to us.”

“oh.” you nod, becoming increasingly more aware that you're not really sure what your job is.

just like rafe said, someone brings in lunch at exactly 12:30, one tray for you and one for rafe.

when he closes his computer, you think that now will finally be the time to talk, but he eats in silence. “so-”

“no small talk.” rafe says. “i hate that shit.”

“well, what is it you'd like me to do then? just sit here? at least give me a task.”

“fine.” rafe grunts out. “when you're finished eating you can read through this report.” he tosses a thick three ringed binder onto the desk in front of you.

“fine.” you argue back, quickly scarfing down your food before grabbing the binder. 

you read through the report. you have no clue what the numbers mean, but you do find a couple punctuation mistakes and highlight them. rafe seems surprised you have any notes at all, his eyebrows raising when you grab the marker from his desk.

“there.” you place the binder down once you reach the last page. its tedious work, but at least it's something other than utter silence.

“great.” rafe takes the binder and tosses it into the trash can. 

“hey!”

“those were numbers from four years ago.” you can see the smirk on rafes features, his amusement at getting you to do something completely pointless.

“you're a real dick, you know?” you say, blurting the words out before you can think of the consequences, it's not like you want to keep the job anyways.

rafe sits silently, but his eyes are on you, hands frozen as you continue on.

“you should hear the way people talk about you. everyone is afraid of you, which you may think makes you a macho boss, but it just makes you a shitty guy to work for. no wonder you have to pay everyone two times more than any other company around here, they need that for putting up with your rudeness.” you rant, suddenly sucking in air as your words come to an end.

“it's 5pm. done for the day. ill walk you out.” rafe stands, but you move quicker, pushing the doors open and leaving him to walk behind.

you stop when you see serena and the cfo quietly chatting. you open your mouth to say you quit when rafe speaks from behind you.

“i like this one. make sure she's here tomorrow by 9am.”

you turn and look to him, but he's already walking away.

--

you weren't planning on showing back up, but serena is a convincing woman.

“good morning, rafe.” you place a drink carrier down onto the corner of his desk, plucking out your mocha before schooching the rest towards him. “i didn't know what you like. i got a hot black coffee, a caramel frappe and the a cappuccino.”

rafe stares at the drinks before picking up the frappe. you smile, you should have predicted that despite his hard exterior, rafe liked a sweet drink.

serena gave you the company card, saying to use it for any and all expenses, even grocery's or home decor, she didn't care, as long as you entered the building by 9 am tomorrow.

“i know you hate small talk, but you'll have to get over it. what does this company even do?” you take a sip of your mocha, the taste chocolatey on your tongue.

“we are a development company. real estate all across the world. we also manage construction.”

“oh.” you frown. “that's more boring than i thought.”

rafe let's out a soft chuckle, pleasant sounding to your ears.

“everything just seems so secretive.” you shrug.

“i think they didn't want you to know a lot in case you turned down the job. you're the longest an assistant has lasted.”

“and what…” you lean in, ignoring that it's only your second day. “exactly am i supposed to do?”

“just… keep me in check.” rafe shrugs. “i have a tendency to get angry. bad news will get passed through you. you're here to be a sounding board, where i can vent and bounce ideas off of.”

“i make 100k a year for that?” you scoff.

“i think 50 of that is just for dealing with me.” 

you laugh along with rafe. maybe you'll end up lasting an entire week.

-- two months later --

“are you free this weekend?” rafe asks.

“uh, yeah, why?” you question. you've learned rafe likes when you stand up to him, speak your mind and not let him push you around like he does everyone else. he's come to respect you for it, and it's made work much easier.

“im needed in new york city. id like for you to come with me. as my assistant.”

“sure, ill start looking for hotels.” you open up your laptop.

“spare no cost. i want somewhere nice.”

you roll your eyes dramatically. “of course you do.”

you already knew to look only at 5 star hotels, the most expensive of the lot. despite the short notice, you find two connecting suites that will work for you and rafe.

“and how are we getting there?” you ask. “want me to talk to jeffery about taking the private jet?”

“yup, i want to fly into laguardia, not jfk.”

“got it.” you nod, finding the correct number in your phone before stepping out to talk. you confirm all the details, jotting down times in the notes app on your phone.

you stop by after the phone call to update serena of your plans, learning she's a secretary of sort for the whole company, really the number two right behind rafe.

“hey girl.” you smile. “heading to nyc with mr. cameron for the weekend.”

“oh, good.” she sighs happily. “he's been needing to go out there.”

“yeah.” you shrug. “if you say so!” you keep yourself firmly out of the business side, just like she told you your first day here.

“make sure you do something fun while you're there too. while he's in meetings you could see times square, or check out central park.”

“i definitely will! i want to see the cherry blossoms if they're still in bloom.”

“sounds fun.” serena nods before her desk phone begins to read. “sorry, gotta get this.”

“see ya.” you wave as you walk back to rafes office.

“all good?” he questions.

“laguardia, just as you want.” you smile, sitting back at your upgraded chair.

“don't know what id do without ya.” rafe says.

“don't be nice to me.” you scrunch your name up. “it's weird.”

--

“how were the cherry blossoms?” rafe asks.

“most of them still in bloom, actually.” you say with a soft smile. you ended up taking a lot of pictures along with exploring the rest of the park.

“nice.” he hums. “did you bring an evening dress?”

“no. and you didn't tell me i was supposed to.” you say.

“well… i would appreciate it if you joined me at dinner tonight. it's with a very important client who um… may be under the impression that im traveling with my wife.”

“your- your wife?” your eyes widen. “you want me to lie about being your wife?”

“just for tonight. id really appreciate it.” rafe looks at you with a softness in his eyes. “please.”

“okay… but i don't have an evening gown… or anything fancy.” 

“let me take you shopping then.” rafe pulls out his phone. “there's got to be a nice store near us.”

you place your hand on top of rafes phone. “ill find a place.”

you end up finding a formal store only a couple blocks away. you decide to walk, rafe keeping close to you, glaring at anyone who even glances at you for too long.

you make it to the store without any interruptions, and rafe quickly points out the kinds of dresses that will fit the restaurant before standing back to let you choose.

“you wanna watch me try them on, husband?” you ask rafe, following the associate with an armful of dresses back towards the private changing rooms.

“of course.” rafe follows behind you, eyes glancing down your figure. he can't wait to see you in a gorgeous fitted dress.

when you step out in the first dress, rafe swears he feels his heart skip a beat. “you're getting that one.”

“you sure?” you look in the mirror, twirling around to look at the dropped back. “i don't know if this color looks good on me.”

“it looks good on you.” rafe says. “but by all means, try on more. ill buy you multiple.”

rafe ends up buying you every single dress you try on except for one that's too loose and doesn't fit well. you insist you only need one, but you're not going to argue with your boss wanting to spend money on you.

you end up choosing the first one you tried on to go to the dinner with rafe. your hands shake slightly, not sure what to expect. rafe sees it, hesitating before wrapping your hand in his.

“it'll be fine. you can just… just be quiet for the most part. ill do all the talking.”

“okay.” you squeeze his hand back, not used to the physical contact with rafe, but finding it surprisingly comfortable.

you follow him into the restaurant, everyone else dressed to the nines, perfect hair and makeup on the women, the men with the shiniest shoes. “it's really beautiful in here.” you whisper.

“wait till you taste the food… wifey.” rafe says, making you both laugh.

“ah, mr. and mrs. cameron.” the man says in a slightly accented voice as you both shake his hand, as well as the associate next to him. “so glad to meet the both of you. we appreciate getting into business with a true family man.”

“of course.” you smile, putting on your best acting performance. “we are so excited to start our family soon.”

“we must see the wedding photos. my wife-” the man puts a proud hand on his chest. “is a wedding dress designer.”

“oh.” you frown. “i would love to show you, but we haven't gotten them back yet.” you smile at rafe. “we’re newlyweds.”

“ah, cheers to the beginning of a lovely marriage then.” he raises his glass to clink with the others at the table.

“please, kiss! you must after a toast.” the associate says.

you turn to rafe, glancing down to look at his lips. it would totally give you away to refuse, so you take a deep breath and lean into in, pressing your lips together in a quick kiss. it lasts only a moment, but you swear you feel a spark, a tug to continue kissing him.

rafe doesn't bring it up until later, as your riding the elevator back up to your hotel room. “you did great. im sorry about the kiss.”

“it wasn't bad.” you giggle softly, slightly drunk on the wine that was served.

“im glad you think that.” rafe smiles softly. “you'll make a wonderful wife to a very lucky man someday.”

“maybe we could…” you swallow harshly, the alcohol encouraging your words you know you shouldn't say. “maybe we could keep pretending. just for tonight. and then when we get back to the office things can be back to normal.”

“and what does continuing to pretend to be husband and wife entail?” rafe questions, taking a step closer to you.

“more kissing. more… more.”

rafes lips are against yours suddenly, ignoring the elevator doors sliding open in favor of his mouth pushing against yours, lips gliding harshly over each others. the kiss is the exact opposite of the restaurant, whereas it was quick and innocent, this kiss is full of fire and passion.

the elevators slide shut and begin to head back down to the lobby. “shit.” rafe groans against your lips, jamming the button towards your floor. “sorry baby.”

“just… keep kissing me until someone gets in.” rafe listens to your pleas, kissing you until the elevator comes to a halt. even then, he doesn't move far away, keeping himself stood possessively over you, your back against the elevator wall.

you smile awkwardly at the three men who enter before turning your face into rafes chest, focused on the hand that has slipped around your waist. 

the elevator stops and the three men get off. the second it's moving again, rafe is back kissing you, stumbling out when your doors open as to not make the same mistake as last time.

“shit.” rafe groans, having to fumble in his pocket to get the key card for the door.

you let out a soft giggle, pressing kisses to his neck and jaw until the door swings open and you're able to step in the room.

“are you sure?” rafe asks, closing and locking the door behind you.

“im sure.” you nod. “this is just… pretend. let's do what husbands and wives do.”

rafe moves you towards the bed, backing you up until you sit down on the plush spread, decorated exactly like yours in the connecting room, but this bedding still smells like rafe from the night before.

he sinks to his knees, such a strong, dominant man on the floor for you as he takes off your heels, carefully slipping them off your soles before setting them to the side.

“thank you.” you say softly. rafe looks up at you before leaning forward, pushing the slit of your dress open to press kisses to your knees, and then thighs, moving up until the dress no longer allows him to.

“i need you to take this off.” he says roughly.

you nod, shifting yourself to stand as rafe also rises. you turn your back to him, his hands moving to your waist before moving up until he's cupping your chest over the shiny material.

“rafe-” you gasp out as he squeezes, his large palms enveloping your entire breast.

rafe holds his hands there for a moment longer before moving them to your back, unzipping your dress and watching it fall to the floor. you're in just a small pair of lingerie, having bought it for yourself yesterday in a boutique.

“shit.” rafe curses again. “you're… you're so beautiful.”

you turn around to kiss him again, his hands now against your bare skin as he explores, moving all along your sides and back.

your own hands get busy as well, fingers deftly unbuttoning his shirt until you can push it off his shoulders. you pull away to see his muscles, hints of which you've seen when he's rolled up his sleeves or wore a tighter than normal shirt, but now you can finally really see and appreciate them.

“lay down, please.” rafe says.

you move to lay on his bed, head resting against the pillows as rafe crawls over your body. his mouth finds yours again as his hand delves under your back to unhook your bra. he pulls it away from your body as his lips leave yours.

he's only off your skin for a moment before his mouth is wrapped around your nipple, tongue swirling around in circles as his hand holds your other breast.

“oh, shit.” it's your turn to curse as your eyes squeeze closed, hand coming to the back of rafes head, feeling his short hair as he sucks on your nipple before kissing all over the swell of your breast. he switches sides, wanting to taste all of you.

you lift your hips when his hand grabs onto your underwear, allowing him to pull it all the way down until you kick it off the bed. rafe pulls away to look between your legs, letting out a soft moan when you part your thighs and he can see how wet you already are.

“beautiful.” he says, eyes closing like it's too much to look at you as his hand skirts down your stomach before finding your wetness, finger circling around your entrance before gently pushing in.

“kiss me, please.” you take rafes face in your hands, guiding your mouths back together as his finger carefully thrusts in and out. he slowly increases the speed until you're whining against his lips for more.

rafe twists his hand so his thumb can rub over your clit as you let out a moan, hips pressing up, seeking more.

“i need you.” rafe pulls his hand away. “i need you so bad.”

you nod quickly, giving him one more quick kiss before he pulls away to take off his pants and underwear. you bite your lip once hes completely nude, his cock standing tall and hard away from his body. you want to taste him, want to see what it feels like to have his cock sit heavy on your tongue, but you need him inside of you more.

“i have a condom somewhere…” he looks around.

“you don't need to wear one. I'm on birth control.” you can feel your cheeks blush just at the suggestion. “it's… it's not what a husband and wife would do.”

“okay.” rafe doesn't need any more convincing, crawling back over your body. “do you want me like this?”

you flip over quickly so you're on top, rafes back now pressed into the mattress. you grab onto his cock, giving him a few quick strokes before you line him up with your cunt, sinking down with a synchronous moan.

you keep your eyes on rafes face as you begin to move, hips grinding up and then back, your hands sat firmly on his chest to help you move.

you're able to grind your clit down against his skin every time you sink fully down, just adding to the pleasure. he's stretching you out in the most pleasurable way, just enough to feel it without being painful.

“so fucking beautiful.” rafe says, reaching up to hold onto your tits as they bounce with your body.

you put all your energy into riding him, knowing this might be your only chance to, but hoping it's not, hoping you can feel him inside of you again.

“i- baby.” rafe grunts out, hands moving down to your hips. he helps you move as your legs quickly tire, not used to this position.

“you feel so good.” you whine out eyes sliding shut as rafes hips begin to push up, lifting you with every thrust, spearing his cock even further into you.

“im-im close.” you admit with a gasp, his cock hitting your sweet spot every time.

“cum for me baby, please.” rafe moves one of his hands to your lower stomach, thumb reaching down to rub over your clit.

you cry out, back arching as you instantly cum, not needing any more stimulation as your body shakes before flopping forward, falling against rafes chest.

he gives you a minute, as long as he can hold back before flipping you onto your back. it takes him only a few thrusts to cum inside of you, filling you up to the brim.

rafe flops down next to you, both breathing heavily, skin sheened in sweat.

you wait for a moment. to see if he's going to say anything. when he doesn't, you scooch closer to him, placing your hand on his cheek and bringing him in for a kiss, not yet done pretending.

-- four years later --

“you remember the first time we came here?” rafe asks, stepping into the restaurant with his hand wrapped around yours. it's redecorated some, but is still familiar.

“how could i forget.” you smile at him. “where i first pretended to be your wife.”

“well, at least you don't have to pretend anymore,” rafe says, swiping his thumb over the diamond ring on your finger “mrs. cameron.”

[dazednmatthews]

number neighbor!matt x reader: semi face to face (part four point five)

the thrum of the facetime ring had y/n very rightfully shitting bricks.

it wasn’t that she was scared of matt, nor would she ever let him know what she really thought of him, but the thought of finally talking to him semi-face to face was something that sent a weird hum through her veins.

they’d been talking for close to three weeks now, annoying him becoming a quintessential part of her days. she wouldn’t admit it to him, but she liked matt. as a friend. he was funny, and despite what she constantly told him, he wasn’t boring at all. she would have stopped trying a long time ago if he was.

on the third ring, matt picks up. the lighting in his room is warm, pale yellow filling her screen. the motherfucker is laid in bed, shirtless of course, hair fluffy and curling into his eyes.

it makes her sick to her god damn stomach the way the silver chain sits on his collarbones. and the way she can see stubble aligning his jaw. and the way the blanket just barely covers his chest. she wants to hang up.

she’d lost her ability to speak suddenly, so when matt raises an eyebrow, she knows he’s about to start something with her. “hello?” he draws out the ‘o’. “are you going to say something or am i gonna talk to myself during this?”

it’s enough to snap her out of whatever the fuck trance he had her in. “it’s been twenty seven seconds and i already wanna hang up.”

he smirks slightly, “i think that’s a lie.”

“whatever,” she grumbles. “why don’t you have any clothes on? classless.”

“i have pants on. wanna see?” y/n holds her hand up to the camera, flipping her middle finger. matt laughs. it’s a nice laugh. oh fuck. “am i distracting you?”

“i will hang up if you start this shit again.”

“fine, fine.” matt sits up slightly, angling the camera more on his face. he leans forward, eyebrows furrowed. “let me see your room.”

y/n is sitting at her desk, avoiding open makeup bottles and random pens strewn about. she shrugs, flipping the camera. her room is filled to the brim with things. her walls are covered in posters; from her favorite horror movies and icons and just films in general to her favorite musicians. she even has a funny minion poster in the corner that her best friend got her for a gag gift. she loves it just the same though.

“other than that fucking minion poster,” matt rolls his eyes. “you kind of have good taste.”

she scoffs. “kind of? bye. my taste is impeccable.”

matt eyes the poster right next to her closet door. “you like mac miller?”

she nods fondly. “he’s one of my favorite artists.”

something in his voice changes. “me too.”

“you wanna be me so damn bad. it’s flattering.”

it’s matt’s turn to scoff. “i actually couldn’t think of anything worse.”

y/n ignores him, giving him the full tour. she shows him the extent of her cd collection, which he of course, has something to say about all the disney channel soundtracks. she simply states that, “good music knows no bounds. it’s not my fault shake it up had the best ghost writers.” and yeah, matt does laugh at that.

she shows him the various pieces of art her sister has drawn her, which he’s actually really loves. they bicker about whether or not astrology is real, again, when she shows him her crystal collection. predictably, it ends up with her calling him a bastard and him telling her she’s insane a thousand times.

when she gets to her book case, he looks surprised. “you read?” his eyes are scanning the screen. “those are all yours?”

y/n’s face twists at the borderline insult. “are you calling me fucking stupid or something?”

“no!” he sounds kind of frantic. “i didn’t mean it like that. i just meant i didn’t know you enjoyed books like that.”

she shrugs, flipping the camera back to her and sitting back at her desk. “there’s a lot you don’t know about me, matt.”

she pretends to find something interesting in her reflection, not seeing matt’s eyes turn slightly soft. “yeah. i see.”

when it’s his turn to show his room, y/n’s surprised at how clean it is. there’s a bed and a desk with a monitor, headphones next to the keyboard. his bed is big and looks comfy, dark red silk sheets on it. it makes something in her stomach flip. she tells it to shut the hell up.

she teases him for the few stuffed animals he has on his bed. “aww, matt. you big softie.”

“yeah, yeah, what the fuck ever. they’re cute.”

“mr. tough guy, making room on his bed for his plushies. adorable.”

“go to hell, y/n.”

there’s not really much else in there but a couple framed pictures, so it’s over pretty quick. and when it is, something weird happens. the two sit on the phone, for hours. they talk about any and everything, bicker about the same things and tell each other more about themselves. y/n learns that he has the cutest little dog named trevor, he also likes to read from time to time and that he’s obsessed with watching tv.

she tells him about her parents and how they aren’t as close anymore, her siblings and how she wishes she could see them more and that she has an unhealthy attachment to word searches.

it’s nice, she decides.

it only ends when there’s a bang at matt’s door, followed by it flinging open. “matt, can you take me to the gas station? i want twizzlers.” one of his brothers says.

the other one flops down next to him on his bed, poking matt in the stomach. “i need chips in my system, like now.”

matt closes his eyes and sighs. “you both are so fucking annoying.” he turns to the side. “i’m on the god damn phone.”

the middle one in that one picture matt sent, chris she thinks, pokes his head into the frame. “oh shit, is that the girl that you’ve been texting?”

the other triplet, nick, let’s out a laugh. “you mean the one he never shuts the fuck up about-“ and suddenly the audio is cut off and matt is out of his bed.

y/n is taken aback by the statement. matt talks about her to his brothers? she would definitely be putting that in her back pocket for later.

she watches matt leave his own room and hears the sound come back. “i’ve gotta go, y/n. they’ll only get more annoying and i don’t feel like cleaning up a crime scene if i kill them.”

she smiles in amusement. “that’s fine, i should probably finish my laundry anyway.”

there’s a moment of silence and then she can hear the smirk in his voice way before she sees it. “yeah i noticed. do you wash that pair of lacy black underwear on your floor on delicate or regu-“

“goodbye, matthew!”

her face heats up as she presses the end call button, cutting off his maniacal laughter.

as y/n sits in silence for a second after he’s gone, she wonders if matt felt the shift between them just as much as she did.

a/n: yes the inspo is the still of matt from the new tiktok cause that shit got me soooo bad. anyway hope you guys liked this!

TAGLIST:

@sturnioloco @peachmels @sugrhigh @rootbeerworshiper @hollandsangel @sturnolio-luvs @mattsobvimyfav @misscocodiorsblog @ilovechrisssturniolo @pepsiboyy @braindead4l @mxqdii @fawnchives @hearts4chriss @certifiednatelover @nmegamett20 @imaslut4kehlani @dominicfikue @wovenribbons @streamermattsgf @pr1ncessmatt @pinksturniolo @yourfavoritefangirl @nickmillersn1gf @freshxsturniolo @sturniolobltch @mattspolitank @lookingformyromeo @alorsxsturn @imwetforyourmom @kiarastromboli @sleepysturnss @mattscoquette @sturncakez

[bunnysbrainrot]

Unspoken Rules

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝟹 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 '𝚃𝚘𝚘 𝚂𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚝' 𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜, 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚢𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚊𝚐𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝙷𝚘𝚣𝚒𝚎𝚛'𝚜 𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚐.

Relationship: Joel Miller x f!Reader, Jackson!AU

Content: Angst, protective Joel, kissing, sexual themes, make out session, size kink (kind of?)

Summary: The day after the town dance, Joel doesn't seem so sentimental for your time together. The emotional rollercoaster leaves you confused. Something is off about him now, and it's taking everything in you to not leave yourself to blame. Finally, Joel tries setting a boundary, but will he hold to it?

[ A/N: For this series, I invite the reader to make up their own backstory for how they end up in Jackson. I'll keep descriptions in the chapters vague, as I didn't want to assign a backstory when it's something people can have such fun with! ]

Beep, beep, beep, beep, beep

The gentle chirping of your watch pulls you from sleep, but not without some protest. You groan softly at a headache taking form and begin to regret last night's decisions. Prying an eye open, a green 6:31 AM shines back at you, though the sun hardly shows it through your curtains. A dim lavender sky peeks through instead.

What a nice start to the day, you think to yourself, sighing loudly as you shift to sit up; the rush of movement swells your pesky headache, making you squeeze your eyes shut.

"Shit," you grumble, rubbing your eyes, "fuckin' mead, man... never again."

And especially never before patrol day.

The thought of riding your horse through rough Wyoming terrain doesn't excite you. Instead, you get the gift of an unsettled stomach, but pull yourself out of bed nonetheless.

••••

"Good morning!"

Your neighbor's cheerful greeting rings in your head, but you know she means well. She'd been at the dance last night, too, but you didn't get a chance to talk, from what you remember, at least. Giving her a small wave, you force a smile you hope is genuine enough to sell the 'I'm not hungover' act.

The food stall is desolate, to your relief, save for the man running it. You seem him every time you stop by, though neither of you have exchanged names, but he has memorized your order already. His eyes shine genuinely when he hands you your food.

"It's good to see you again," the man says, "welcome to Jackson."

You smile appreciatively and take the sandwich, giving him a brief thanks before heading off. He provides breakfast for the patrol groups, but never wants anything in return. Maybe you could repay him, somehow, you think. Mulling it over, you tear into the sandwich while you make your way to the stables. The thick, earthy smell of hay wafts past, and the sputtering of horses sounds ahead.

Rounding the corner reveals today's patrol group - it's evidently much smaller than last time.

Joel doesn't turn when your footsteps approach. You spot the beautiful mare you'd ridden last patrol, Belle, occupied with a bucket of hay. She huffs loudly when you meet her, angling her head to look at you, before resuming her breakfast. Joel silently adjusts a hefty saddle onto his horse nearby. Clinking of metal clasps fills the silence before Joel breaks it.

"How's the hangover?"

There's a terseness in his tone, as if forcing a conversation he doesn't want to have. He doesn't turn to you when he asks the question.

You pause for a beat, "Kicking my ass a little."

Joel nods once, "Been there."

This Joel isn't the same man you danced with last night, this version doesn't remember, or simply doesn't care. Nothing from last night was special enough to hold onto today. Shame starts to sink in your uneasy stomach. So he really did mean it, when he called himself a fool for dancing with you.

"Where are we meeting up with the rest of the group?"

A casual tone masks the pain blooming in your chest, and the tears that prick your eyes. You wouldn't dare let them fall in front of Joel. He shouldn't know how much last night meant to you, even if he wouldn't bat an eye at your tears. It seems like last night's biggest mistake was thinking that he, somehow, was true to his actions. When his lips were brushing against your neck, hovering over your ear, before his tone had gone seductively darker.

"Just us today. Smaller groups help cover more ground."

It feels like an invisible string is pulled between you when he speaks, growing more taught with each bated breath and expressionless comment. You come to notice that Belle is already donning her saddle and gear, a task you hadn't done yourself.

Glancing at Joel, you hesitate, "Thank you for getting Belle ready."

Finally, he turns from his horse's saddle and shifts attention to you. A steely look in his eyes reprimands you without words. It didn't seem like a favor. He'd done your work for you.

"Saddling up is the boring part. Not as tricky as it looks, though. I'll ask Maria to show you how," he offers dismissively.

It’s a nice gesture, but the Maria part begins to register. He won’t show you, or doesn't want to spend time alone with you after what transpired last night. Confusion lingers in the back of your mind - Joel invited you to dance, and now it's as if you've never held a conversation before.

You nod, "Sounds good to me."

Even though it was not, in fact, good at all. Maybe last night really was some drunken mistake, but it wouldn't make sense of Joel's demeanor now.

Why did he look like he had something else to say?

••••

"Pretty day today," Joel states.

Sunlight streaks between distant mountain peaks, painting the morning fog with a breathtaking display of orange and yellow. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see how it casts a golden halo around Joel's salt and pepper hair, highlighting its warmer browns. He turns to his saddle bag, giving you a glimpse of his face; the sunlight works wonders. He's warmer and brighter... there's more life to him.

Joel gestures to one of the peaks ahead, "See that mountain over there? The shorter one to the right - we stop at the base of it. On the way out there, we're on lookout, gettin' rid of any stragglers. At the turn-around point we'll rest, and the trip back is supply pickup, in case we find anything."

You clear your throat, carrying on, "Got it... Must be a long route, hm?"

"At an average pace, 'bout two hours or so. If you're bookin' it, you could do it in less than one."

The talking is helpful when it's useful information, but anything else reminds you of last night, of that version of Joel. When he was in such stark contrast to this gruff personality, and if you were being honest, it had intrigued you. Pulled you in deeper.

In fact, from the moment you saw him, he caught your eye. On that chilly morning, where you stood timid and anxious amidst the crowd, something clicked in place when he'd briefly turned to you.

A certain roughness in his look told you that something, many things, has roughed him around the edges over the years. You couldn't tell his age, but you could assume that he witnessed the fall of everything. Back then, the world crumbled with the rise of the infection, its haunting mortality rate, and there was no hope of it being stopped after it had begun. You wondered what Joel's life had been before he ended up in Jackson - how his 'regular life' was, back when the world made more sense.

His accent is distinctly and seductively Southern, one you could listen to for hours. Clearly he isn't from around here - any kind of travel across so much terrain isn't an easy task, and it would take months at a steady pace.

So how the hell did he wind up in Jackson?

Joel reaches for a canteen of water, unscrewing the top and tossing his head back, taking in a few deep gulps. His jaw twitches as he drinks greedily, and follows it with a low, satisfied sigh when he's finished. The sound casts you into a void of unholy thoughts. Something tightens in your core, a feeling that, you now realize, you haven't had in months. Years, maybe.

Effortlessly, Joel shines light on an emotion you hadn't addressed to even yourself: a primal need for something.

••••

With the exception of picking off the straggling infected, the patrol is continuing quite smoothly. The sun is slowly inching its way across the sky, keeping you comfortably warm in a gentle breeze that relieves your dull headache. Now, Joel leads you down a path veering toward an open stretch of pasture at the base of the mountain. Peering ahead, you see the trail reach its end at the start of the field, and beyond spans into a sea of rolling hills that takes your breath away.

"How you doin' back there?" Joel asks.

"Still good," you reassure him.

He nods his head toward a fence far off in the pasture, "We go to the edge of the perimeter, then we loop around. We'll take a breather first, though."

You follow in his stead until he reaches the old wooden fence, dismounting his horse, and carefully tying its reigns to a nearby fence post. Dismounting Belle gives your hips and thighs a wave of relief to get some blood flowing again. You head to the fence on unsteady legs, leaning against the weathered wood as another gust of wind rushes by. The cool wind across your skin makes you turn to face its source, tossing your head back to invite its presence at your neck. Your eyes flutter shut, and the world melts away for a while.

He wishes he could burn this image in his mind. You throwing your head back as the wind blows, entangling itself through your hair, your clothes. That soft smile tugging at your lips has him completely distracted before you let out a happy sigh. A soft, breathy sound that makes his imagination wander, against his better judgement.

After all, last night was a mistake.

The moment Cara had called for your attention, inviting you to join his group, Joel knew the night would end differently than he expected. You wore a shirt that accentuated every area his eyes shouldn't have wandered to, but they did. Across the lot, he'd watched you dance for hours, spinning and twirling and laughing and really, truly, living. He could see a light in you, a fire that couldn't be put out.

But if you're a fire, Joel is gasoline.

"Listen," he starts. He already knows where this is heading, that he's ruined this moment, and that there will be nothing in his power to make it any better.

But he can't let you fall into a delusion. This idea that you want him, yet you have no idea of what's underneath. He can't have you focused on him when there's a whole community to serve. He's doing a service by telling you now, he assures himself.

Nipping it in the bud.

You turn to face him quickly, knowingly. He can tell by your fidgeting hands that you might know what's coming. And he can see it in your wide-eyed expression, still somewhat hopeful. He braced himself to see that face fall.

"What happened last night... ain't my best moment. I didn't hold myself back when I shoulda have, and I..." he straightens, "it can't happen again."

The words come out meaninglessly. Joel speaks, but can't hear himself, his words come from some far-off mental script he'd prepared when he'd gotten home last night. He can see it hit you - the realization, the way your body goes completely still. Your bottom lip trembles slightly, yet you hold a solid smile despite the hurt he sees in your eyes. Your hands have frozen in place, knuckles growing white from gripping them together so tightly.

"I-I'm sorry, too. I shouldn't have gotten so carried away," you explain.

Your apology is a blow to his gut. Have you been blaming yourself this whole time? As if you could even be at fault. Joel asked you to dance. You were about to go home, and he asked you to stay out of his own selfishness.

He needed that light, that fire. A brightness that only you've possessed, and it had him hooked from the first time you'd spoken, at last patrol. You had strayed away from your position in the party and had wound up next to him. It hadn't registered who had joined him, and before he had the chance to issue a harsh 'stay back', there you were, in complete awe.

Joel remembers it clearly: the way your eyes shone with delight, an infectious smile that for a moment, lifted his spirits. Every patrol was the same. Same people, same routes, over and over and over again with exhausting mundanity. Until you came along.

There was a light about you he could not touch.

In every way you are his opposite. On one hand, Joel is harsh, serious, and doesn't care much about his impact on others, let alone their feelings. You, on the other hand, represent everything Joel could've had for himself - kind, flexible, and you naturally cared for others.

Joel can't seem to remember when he lost that side of himself. He doesn't understand your capacity for kindness in a world this dark.

"You shouldn't be apologizing for anything," he says.

You pause and look toward the ground, wringing your hands again, "I should've just gone home."

If you had, you wouldn't be on the verge of tears right now.

A surge of regret fills his chest. Someone as kind as you doesn't deserve the pain of rejection; you should have someone who cherishes you, who can appreciate your softness without tainting it.

"Why'd you stay?"

There was no use for excuses now.

It's harder to meet his eyes this time, but you want to see his reaction to your answer.

"Because you asked me to dance."

Confusion knits Joel's eyebrows together when he asks, "And that was so special?"

"Yes. Was it not that way for you?"

He opens his mouth to answer, yet he hesitates. The long pause doesn't much to help your confusion, you truly want to know, to hear it from him first. If it wasn't important, it'd be easier to forget it happened in the first place.

It would certainly be easier than an unrequited love. Anything is easier.

"That's not what I said."

"It's implied," you state. Joel averts his gaze to the fence, idly picking at a loose piece of wood. "It's alright if it wasn't, I just... I need to know."

Another beat passes before he gives his answer, at long last. Joel matches your pose from earlier and leans with his back against the fence.

"It was. Special, that is," he says gently. That softness in his voice was greatly missed, and it's a breath of fresh air to hear it once more. "It's just... you're still new here. I don't want you getting distracted-"

"Are you calling yourself a distraction?"

Joel's eyes dart to you, "Am I not?"

You press your lips into a thin line, making his question ultimately rhetorical. He nods once, then turns his head to you. The intensity of his stare demands it to be met, so you meet his eyes and find a playfulness there, a hint of the Joel from last night.

"Am I one?"

"Telling you would just give you ideas," he teases.

You smirk, "So I am."

"The worst kind."

Shifting your weight on your feet reminds you of the soreness in your legs, so you lift your arms, and push yourself onto the top of the fence, dangling your legs over the side. The silence between you now isn't as uncomfortable as earlier. No, this is the silence of anticipation, wondering what or who will give a resolution.

"What about me is so distracting?" You ask.

In place of words, Joel makes his way to you, positioning himself in front of your swinging legs, which now shook a little more than you'd like to admit. He closes the gap with hands on either side of you, gripping the wood beneath his rough fingers.

There's no way to place his expression when he looks at you again.

He replies, voice low and strained, "Everything."

You can't miss it when his eyes wander to your lips, hovering there a moment longer than he needed to. Taking the opportunity you look at his as well - you knew they were soft, but hadn't felt much of them. Need and hunger are all you can feel as you stare.

When his lips meet yours, there's something that tells you that maybe this situation was inevitable. One look at him, and you knew how you felt, and exactly how willing you'd be to take your time with him.

But today, Joel doesn't need time. He knows what he wants.

He groans into your mouth when you move your lips against his - the sound of a starved animal finally getting their fill. It draws a moan from you, matching him in a sweet harmony. There's a gap between you still, that simply isn't enough.

You reach forward in search of the waistband of his jeans, hook your fingers through his belt loops, and tug Joel forward. His mouth crashes into yours once again, skirting his tongue across your bottom lip, begging for entry. One at a time, you wrap your legs around Joel's waist and secure yourself tightly against him, gripping at his shoulders with a ferocity you didn't recognize.

It's not as slow as you would've liked him to go, but it's the pace you need. For how long it felt to wait, for how impatient you'd been.

And he knows how to deliver it.

His hands roam carefully around your waist, squeezing and fondling with an avarice that shows he's been waiting just as impatiently. Every caress sets you alight, erupting goosebumps along your arms and neck, which Joel is slowly shifting his attention to.

"Joel," you pant, but it's all you can muster. There's more to the sentence, but his lips stop you. They play at the soft skin below your jaw, suckling gently before his tongue slides along your supple flesh, bringing himself to your ear.

He catches your earlobe between his teeth and bites playfully. Another moan falls past your lips, another breathy utterance of his name. Joel plants a kiss below your ear. You card your fingers through his hair, tugging at the soft strands.

"Careful, pretty girl," says Joel, reaching upward to support your head as it's thrown back in pleasure. He weaves his fingers into your hair for a comfortable grip, and pulls your head back further.

The constriction chokes you, but you smile anyway at the dull pain from where he holds you. With his strength, he has you exactly where he wants you, and can keep you there. The high-pitched moan you sing next has Joel losing his composure, his actions growing sloppier as you continue.

But, to your surprise, he releases you first.

Joel pulls back with a final kiss pressed to your lips again, a deep and savoring one. The back of your head stings from the grip he held on it, though it gives you a rush of adrenaline you won't trade for anything.

The sigh he lets out is one you can recognize, because you're breathing the same one.

This complicates things.

Hi guys! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, it took a long time to write, and I think it's because it's not smut, and it was very frustrating, so next chapter will have a LOT more (i'm already plotting)

[drjholtzmann]

this is dreamling more than dead boy detectives but it's been in my head since reading issue #25 after s1 of sandman. so, now feels like a good time to release it into the world. i just want them all to get in each others way

(season of mists spoilers)

------------

It’s not often that Hob smokes. It’s an expensive habit, and secondhand smoke and all that. But it’s hardly going to kill him, so he’s usually got an ancient pack on hand somewhere. Handy, especially in situations like this. Not that there’s ever been a situation like this before but, well. You live long enough. 

He slips out into the beer garden of the pub, lighting up almost absent mindedly, the action still muscle memory. 

“What the fuck,” he mutters, rubbing his thumb along his lower lip, “what the fuck. Dream, if you have bloody anything to do with this, I swear to god, Morpheus. What the fucking fuck.” He closes his eyes, lets his head fall back against the brickwork. Despite it all he huffs an exhausted laugh. Because sure. Of course. Yeah, why not. Of course this would happen. “Jesus Christ, Morpheus. Even if this isn’t you, bloody… fucking wish I could just ask.” It’s all said barely above a whisper. Just in case. Always just in case. He blindly ashes his cigarette and heaves out a heavy breath, “Lord above,” he scoffs, raising the cigarette to his lips again. 

“Hob?”

Hob startles, eyes snapping open, head knocking back sharply against the brick. “Fuck – ow – Dream?” He raises his free hand to rub the back of his head, wincing slightly. “That, uh… that worked better than expected.” 

“You were calling for me?”

“Yeah… sorta. I didn’t… think it worked like that. Didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“You did not. I had thought briefly of you.” 

“Oh, yeah?” Hob grins. “How come? You miss me already?”

Morpheus sends him a withering look. 

“I, um… dreamt of you. While ago. Was that – real?”

“It was.”

He nods, thumb nervously tapping the filter of his cigarette. “Uh huh. Figured. With the wine, and…” he trails off. The hollow feeling of that dream, or rather, of that waking coming back to him in full force. “You said some ominous shit. Then I said some ominous shit. Was that real, too?”

Morpheus nods solemnly. 

“Right. Don’t suppose you’ll explain that?” Morpheus remains silent. “Right. Course not. Things okay, though? Now? I mean,” he gestures to his friend, “you’re here. That must be good, yeah?”

“Yes. And no.”

“Great. Fab.”

“What I thought I was facing has… changed.”

“...’kay. Well, can I ask you a question?”

Morpheus pauses but, after a moment, nods.

“S’it got anything to do with the dead kids hanging out in my pub?”

“What?”

“Yeah, couple of boys who look like they should definitely be in school – about, oh, fifty years ago. At least.”

Morpheus’ eyes don’t actually widen in alarm, but there is something to that effect happening… not quite in his expression, but in his aura, perhaps. Hob gets the feeling that if he were a cat the fur along his spine would be standing on end. 

“So… it is related?” 

“Perhaps.”

“Definitely, then.” Hob takes a short puff of his cigarette. 

“Show me?” 

“Uh… I don’t know if they know that people can see them. I don’t know if people who aren’t me can see them, actually. So just, um…” the caution dies in his throat as he realises who it is he’s talking to. Morpheus will do what he will, Hob’s advice be damned. 

Dream draws close, peering in through the windowpane of the door back into the pub. “How do you know?”

“You get pretty good at feeling when things are off once you’ve been around the block six hundred years or so. Also, they walked in through the closed front door. As in, passed right through the solid wood and glass.”

“I see.”

“Why are they here?” 

“To sample your fine selection of craft beer, perhaps?”

“Oh, he’s joking,” Hob has joined his side in peering not-so-surreptitiously through the door. “‘Mortal plane’ here, not here-here.”

“Death must have been busy… It is not like her to leave a job unfinished without good reason.”

“Must’ve…? What the fuck could be so horrific that Death is being kept busy?”

Morpheus, beside him, is silent. Deadly still. And it tells Hob all he needs to know. 

“Dream,” he hisses, “what the fuck is this? What’s going on?”

There is a long pause. “I ought not to tell you.” Dream murmurs, still facing the glass panel of the door.

“And I ought not have two dead teenagers in my pub. All things relative.” 

“They are causing no harm.”

“I don’t doubt that. It’s you I’m worried about now.”

“Your concern is of no use. What I mean is that they are no poltergeists, not aggressive, there seems to be nothing demonic about them.”

“Which means… there are poltergeists and demons running about at the mo?”

“I told you, I ought not say. There are diplomatic proceedings to take place.”

“You get that that makes even less sense, yeah?”

Dream seems to, at last, with an almighty eye roll, give in. “Hell is closed,” he hisses, turning to face Hob directly. 

“Hell is closed.” Hob repeats back, dumbfounded. “And that means… The devils are all here?”

“Precisely.”

“But the boys… aren’t devils?”

“They are not.”

“Okay. That’s good news. And the devils?”

Dream shrugs, sharp and languid. “Anywhere. Everywhere.”

“Great. Okay. Less good. Very much less good. So, uh. What… do I do? Am I supposed to exorcise them? Because, I have to be honest – would really rather not do that.” 

“You are under no obligations.”

“Oh.” 

“They could not be here without Death’s knowledge or her say-so. She will come for them in time.”

“Oh.” Inexplicably, Hob’s heart sinks a little.

“They are not alive, Hob.” Dream says, looking him in the eye. “They cannot live forever as the dead.” 

“Hm. Yeah. S’pose.” He looks through the windowpane at the two boys, chatting animatedly at a corner table out of the way. “They’re just kids, though. Barely got a normal life.”

“You cannot save them, Hob.”

“Why not?”

“You cannot. They may not be destined for Hell, but that doesn’t mean they can stay amongst the living.” 

“Says who?”

“The universe. Death, herself.”

Hob smirks, tilting his head down a fraction to look up at Dream from under a quirked brow. “You know what I think of Death.”

And Hob catches the tension at the corner of Dream’s mouth that he knows, whatever he might say to the contrary, is a suppressed smile. 

“C’mon, what if I just help ‘em live a little? While they’re here?”

“Hob.”

“What?! Can’t a guy be nice?”

“I have meetings to attend to.”

“That’s not a no.” 

“I think it a poor choice to flaunt immortality in front of two who have died so young. I would caution against it.”

“Okay. Fuck, fair point. But they don’t have to know about me. They wouldn’t somehow know, right?”

“I would caution against it, Hob Gadling.”

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

Labor HC (ft. Poly!Mates Bat Boys)

Warnings: intense labor, my bsf just had her first baby and told me all the horrific things 🫠, personally i never want children, thank the cauldron for healing magic, longish? compared to my other hc, i guess labor horror? the idea of giving birth scares the ever loving shit out of me

By the end of your pregnancy your stomach was the size of two side by side watermelons

Madja grew increasingly worried that you would not survive the labor at how big the babe inside of you had grown

you worried your child would tear itself out of your womb

indefinite bed rest for you

which you honestly didn't mind since it was getting difficult for you to move your body without getting tired

bat boys worry. you aren't illyrian. if the baby belonged to cassian or azriel, your body would not be able to allow for wings to grow. (paternity/gendering of the baby was not possible. all the results came back as inconclusive)

as it gets more cramped inside of you, every one of the baby's movements is felt by you.

Rhys neglects much of his work and favors spending every waking hour by your side.

Cassian and Azriel grow extremely considered when they hear commotion arising in the Hewn City. Az has heard that many in the Court of Nightmares wish for your demise in labor. They take each threat to your life seriously and spend their time ensuring the security and safety of you and your unborn child.

they can't protect you from the pain of labor though

Rhys and Az were asleep with you in the bed, Cassian preferring to stand guard outside your door.

You're pulled out of sleep rather abruptly, well aware of the unconscious tensing of your muscles as a stabbing pressure digs into your abdominal area. a tightening and squeeze so vicious that you try and sit up immediately but your big belly prevents you from doing so.

stomach churning fear rises in you. it was time.

you shake your mates awake as another squeezing pain that burned across your lower back and pelvis.

they've drilled for this. no really your bat boys have played out the scenario an annoying amount of times. Az leaps from the bed to alert Cassian, Rhys helping you sit up

Azriel leaves to fetch Madja since he's the fastest

the Wraiths prep everything you may need and wait in the room with you, Rhysand and Cassian until Azriel returns with the healer.

that's when things really start

you were already screaming when Madja arrived. Nuala and Cerridwen had prepped you for the labor if Madja were too late.

Azriel had your left hand, brows furrowed and wishing he can transfer the pain you were going through into his body. Even if this pain meant the birth of a child, he hated hearing your screams or the tears welling in your eyes as you push with all your might

Rhysand, who had been hold your right hand transfers it to Cassian's care as he moves to be by Madja side to watch the actual birth. His eyes keep darting from your lower half to your face.

you never knew bringing another life into the world was so painful. you yourself didn't know either of your parents. no one to warn you of what you would face in childbirth

your bat boys were there though, that was all that mattered.

time drags with each heave you give

then he was born. . .

Dagen. even with his wings tucked in tight, pushing him out damn near tore you from your v to your a. like that whole entire region was on fire

"O-Oh. . ." Madja gasped, clearly startled as she held your baby in her arms, having been about to pass him to Rhysand. Almost in fear she looks at Rhysand. "I. . .I think there is another babe coming. . ."

Two babies???

you didn't believe her. until you felt another intense wave of pain start up again. dagen nearly tore you in half. you couldn't imagine pushing out another baby that potentially had wings.

"no, please no" you sob, every part of you aching.

Cassian looks scared. "You can do this." his hand was numb but he didn 't care.

"We're here." Azriel nods and gives your hand an encouraging squeeze.

Rhysand was still standing a little dumbstruck with a fresh newborn in his arms.Thankfully one of the wraith sisters nudges him, her arms ready to take the baby so he can go back to focusing on the next one.

Rian arrived quickly, smaller than dagen thanks to the lack of wings

there was five minutes of peace where Rhysand and Cerridwen showed you your boys. beautiful boys that you and your mates created

until you felt another stabbing sensation.

you screamed at rhysand, azriel and cassian. damning them to a suffering in the afterlife for putting you through this.

to you this was bullshit.

it should be impossible!! then again, so was having three destined mates

Mor had called it a miracle. you now thought of it as a curse. you never knew having three mates meant giving birth to three babies at the same time

the third baby however would prove to be the most difficult. thanks to the previous two, you were beyond exhausted and begging for someone to just rip it from you. there was no way you could push it out by yourself.

Madja made the tough call of performing a cesarean section

the wraiths took away rian and dagen as the surgery took place

they'd been in wars, seen carnage, but there your bat boys were with white faces that expressed utter horror

the last baby to be delivered was a little girl with wings. your Baila.

exhausted, you pass out soon after Madja pulls her from you.

everyone is pushed out of the room except for madja herself as she sews you back up and stops the bleeding that could possibly kill you if not treated properly.

it feels like a dream to you when you wake up.

except every part of you is still suffering from a dull pain

your bat boys introduce you to your three pretty babies

i hc that dagen is azriel's, rian is rhysand's and baila is cassian's cuz i've always thought of him as a girl dad and nothing can change that lol

[aurasplanet]

ADDICTED carl grimes x fem!reader

warnings — both are 18+, piv sex, begging, first times, subxsub, both are dumb and clueless about sex because duh, corny ass ending we all boo’d

it’s not often that you and carl get time to yourself. the two of you met at the prison, you were one of the people that had been taken in. you remember being the only person around carl’s age with so many similar interests. you both getting separated when the prison fell, and when you finally reunited you both realized the pain it caused the both of you.

the older you two got, the more the budding feelings surfaced. when you got to alexandria it’s like something snapped. the safety of it all, the familiarity, you remember confessing to carl one night. the two of you sat in his new room, in awe of this place.

it’s been at least a year since, and things have gotten rockier in alexandria, putting a slight strain on your relationship. nothing too serious, but plans to hang out together kept having to be pushed back.

but tonight finally, you get him all to yourself. the two of you are laying in his bed, practically your bed as well at this point. he’s laying on his back and you on your side, arm on his chest and legs entangled with his.

his left arm is resting on your back, chin propped on your head. your other hand is playing with his hair, your eyes closed as you listen to the repetitive rhythm of him throwing a ball at the ceiling over and over.

the silence and the comfort allows you to think, clearly and calmly for once. first it’s small things, how dates would go if the world hadn’t gone to shit. then things a little more… like making out with him, feeling his touch, his hot, calloused hands burning your skin.

your eyes travel to his hand that’s busy, the soft but scarred skin has you enamored. your mind runs even wilder, suddenly coming up with the very vivid mental image of his hands toying with your cunt. your body tenses and you feel your body get hot, a small whimper escaping your lips.

carl pauses his movements and looks at you worriedly, “are you okay?” you nod meekly, unable to look up at him. his hand drops the ball and his finger comes to your chin to tilt your head up. he smiles when your eyes meet his and pecks your lips.

“pretty girl…” he trails off, hand going from your face to your waist. his movements are agonizingly slow, leaving you wondering if he knows what you’re thinking about. he’s such a tease, could he really?

his face gets closer to yours, his eye trained on you. “what’s got you so tense?” you stay silent for a moment and then your words tumble out in an inaudible mess. your boyfriend giggles, “i didn’t quite catch that.”

you take in a deep breath, deciding to just go for something simple. “i need you.”

carl smiles happily, “i need you too, always. i’m sorry i’ve been so absent-” he stops when you move to hover over him, your legs straddling his thigh. he quirks his brow at you, ahh, how cute and naive he is. no experience, not really anyone to tell him to work these things. of course he couldn’t tell what you’re thinking about.

“i need you,” you whine, rolling your hips down as you speak to emphasize what you mean. his eye widens and his hands fly to your waist, his breathing is heavy and his gaze has already turned lustful. but not in the ravaging beast way, in the way he just looked clueless. you weren’t much better, but you found it so cute.

he leaned forward and your lips connected, slow and passionate to harsh and needy on both ends as you both groped and grabbed each other wherever you pleased. carl slid his hand up your shirt, rubbing your back before fiddling with the clamp on your bra. he laughs a little into your mouth at his struggle, unclamping it and sliding your shirt over your head to get it off.

"you're so pretty," he praises, sending heat to your face and between your legs as you kissed him again, feeling his hands guide the thin material on your chest off your arms. he then kissed down your neck, to your breasts, and back up again to meet your lips, sliding a hand down your body. you moaned into his mouth, breaking the kiss just as his fingers reach your clit.

"carl," you moan desperately, pressing your face into his neck. the tips of his fingers maintaining tight circles against your clit, occasionally asking you how it feels. you felt his heavy breaths against your ear, pretty groans leaving his lips when you grind down on his hand.

you stop his hand before you get to finish, his confused gaze following you as you lift yourself off his lap just enough to slide off your shorts and underwear. he placed his head on your shoulder, letting out small whines when you’d touch him.

you were so impatient, lining him up with your entrance, sinking down with a moan. his hands went to your hips, gripping the skin a little harsher than he intended. he leans in to kiss you again, the two of you finding a needy, messy rhythm.

carl gasps into your mouth, “feel good?” you lean back to look at him, flushed, sweaty face and blow out pupil looking at you like you were crafted by the gods. you nod with a moan, brushing his sweaty hair from his face.

he grimaces, attempting to cover his bandage again when you grab his hands and place them back on your hips. the feeling of your skin against him is enough to make his brain go haywire and forget about anything but you.

he leans into you again, letting his head fall on your shoulder again. “i’m close, baby.” he presses small kisses to your skin, pulling your body closer to him. eventually you’re left desperately grinding on him.

his hands grip your skin harsher, “i’m gonna cum,” he whines into your ear, panting and unable to speak. “with me, please.” you shiver at how breathless and spent he sounded, so desperate and whiny it sent you spiraling. you nod, telling him to let go.

he keeps chanting whispered ‘please’s in your ear, your bodies falling back on the mattress in an entangled mess. you feel carl move before he’s trailing kisses all over any bit of your skin he can reach.

“again?” he pleads, causing your eyes to widen. he slides his hand over your ass, pulling your hips into his again. “i’ve gotten a taste of you, you’ve made me addicted.”

[bonezone44]

but pervy roller derby coach joel and seasoned derby girl fucking in joels truck after a bout when ezra finds them with the windows all fogged up… ofc he joins in

You fucking know it!

Roller Derby Coach!Joel Miller x F!Reader x Boyfriend!Ezra

tags: unprotected p-in-v, double creampie, Ezra and Joel being spiteful towards one another. praise, degredation, use of the word "whore" but in a sexy way

--

He wanted to offer you a personal congratulations after helping your Jammer get point after point, resulting in your team's win. 157 to 163. It was a close one and your offense is what made the difference. Joel lost count of how many times you knocked the opposing Jammer off the track, running them back and killing their spirit. He's surprised you still have any energy left after all that work.

But here you are in his truck with him, bouncing on his cock like it's nothing. You got nothing on but your sports bra and youre soaked in sweat with your gear airing out in his flat bed.

Then Ezra’s wandering around the parking lot outside the rink, wondering where the hell you are because there's an after party to go to. And he already smoked a couple joints with the referees, and you still hadn't appeared. Then he sees the foggy window, the way the truck is bouncing, and he can't help but creep closer. His whole body floods with heat when he sees your gear. He looks around, sees if anybody has eyes on him before opening up the passenger door.

"Shit!" Joel curses.

You both stop in a panic. Your hands gripping his biceps to stabilize yourself.

Ezra's all smiles. "You don't think she's done enough work tonight, Coach?" He chuckles at your silent, shocked faces. He climbs inside and shuts the door behind him. "Our superstar here requires appreciation. Not more strain on her supremely effective musculature." He crawls closer.

"How 'boutchu--" Joel begins.

Ezra wraps his hand around the back of your neck, pulling you in for a kiss.

Joel’s hands are still tight on your hips. Watching Ezra's tongue meet yours makes his cock twitch and pisses him off at the same time. He grunts.

Ezra's hazy eyes slide over to Joel's after he pulls away from you. "How 'bout I what, Joel?"

Joel snarls and shoves Ezra back with a broad palm to his chest. "How 'boutchu see with your eyes and not with your hands?" He turns back to you. "She's mine right now, and I ain't gonna let you touch her 'til I'm done with her."

Ezra chuckles and undoes his pants, pulling his hardening cock out. "Go ahead and fill her up good, then." He smirks and begins to stroke himself. "Patience is a virtue, and although I am far from a virtuous man, I have been known to wander briefly on the path of the principled." He breaths deeply through his nose, taking in the smell of sweat and sex. "A path more easily endured when enticed by heavenly rewards."

Joel rolls his eyes. "Does he ever shut the fuck up?"

Ezra chuckles again. "You best make haste, old man, before that little blue pill wears off and you go softer than an ice cream cone in the Fourth of July sunshine."

Joel smirks at Ezra and shakes his head. He turns back to you, his hands slide up your sides, grip your breasts through your bra. "You ever seen me take a pill?"

"No," you shake your head. You're so overwhelmed by the situation, you're surprised you were able to say anything at all. And Joel's strong fingers are working your chest, working the muscles in your hips and thighs.

"I don't need no pill," he says with a haughty grin, thrusting up into you. "I don't need her to ride me, neither," he adds for good measure. "I can make her come with my cock alone." He holds you still and you angle your hips slightly as his own hips jump in the seat. "Come on, baby. Show 'im how good this cock is. Come on, now."

You wrap your arms around his shoulders and dig your face into his neck, moaning and keening with every strong thrust. You hear Ezra moaning, too. You turn your head to the side and see him panting, biting his lips. He goes from jerking himself off to squeezing his cock at the base and shaking it, staving off his orgasm with a desperate look on his face. It's all so much, you're sent over the edge--your orgasm barely noticable amidst Joel's relentless assault. How can you come down when everything around you is still building and escalating?

"Gonna fill this pussy up, now," Joel groans. His meaty claws close and spread your asscheeks as he begins to grind into you.

You try to remind yourself to breathe as you squeeze him tighter, whimpering and panting.

"Gonna give you all this come," he groans again and you feel a rush of warmth inside of you.

"Come here, baby," you hear Ezra speak up. "Lemme feel that." And before you know it, you're in Ezra's lap. His cock slides readily into yours and he pants and moans pathetically. "Oh fuck, oh shit, oh shit, baby. That's so good." His hips are barely moving as he holds you close against him, but the squelch of your messy pussy is loud. "Mmmm-that's so good. that's that good shit right there. Oh fuck, baby. Gonna fill you up, too. Mmhmm--gonna give you that sloppy cunt, huh? You like that, baby?" His eyes go wide and you're locked in, nodding and agreeing to whatever he says. "You like bein naughty? You like being filthy?"

At this point, it doesn't matter what either of them say. You'll agree to just about anything that comes out of their mouths--and their cocks.

"Fuckin filthy," he mutters with a snarl and brings his hand down to your ass with a harsh, solid slap. "Fuckin filthy whore. Nnnngg---" He comes inside of you.

You feel dizzy. Spent. Tired. Dazed. You should probably hydrate soon. And you wonder if anyone else on the team is looking for the three of you. You hope Joel has some napkins somewhere in his car, but you're not too worried because you have a pack of wet wipes in your gear bag. You never thought you'd use them for something like this, but... so it goes.

No one suspects a single thing at the after party. You throw back a few shots with your teammates and leg wrestle on the bar floor. You dance to the salsa music someone is playing on the juke box. You consider doing those pelvic floor exercises you saw on youtube once.

------------

a/n: I love life and I love being alive.

[atinylittlepain]

Little Pinch

nurse!marcus pike x f!reader

she needs to get bloodwork done. one small problem, getting bloodwork done never goes well for her, especially not when she's distracted by the very kind, very handsome nurse doing it.

wordcount | 3.3K

content info | 18+ discussions of getting bloodwork that includes needles, fainting, nausea, mostly fluff, nurse marcus to the rescue, this is just a fun time, also an un-beta'd time so like, be nice pls

a/n | shoutout to the girls (gn) that pass out every time they get blood work done (me). I have to get new labs tomorrow morning, and writing this is how I coped with that prospect :') this one is for the fainters, the thin veiners, the "just do it in my hand"-ers - i see you, i am you, gawd bless

..........................................................................

Here’s the thing, this never goes well. It wasn’t always like this though. She has a vague memory of being a kid and taking it like a perfect champ, testing for mono after a rash of cases at school. But then, well, something changed. 

It runs in her family. Thin veins that are hard for even the best nurses to find, lots of oh, I just lost it, and well, let’s try your other arm, and always, ultimately, hands? Should we try the hands? No, the nurses never listen when she tells them to just start with the hands, and without fail, somewhere around the third or fourth time they try to get the needle in, a cold sweat breaks, and the room starts to filter through a fuzzy pinhole of vision. It’s embarrassing, she thinks, because, really, she has no problem with needles. Can watch it go in, no issues with piercings, et cetera, et cetera, but getting blood drawn? Yeah, forget about it. She usually comes to with paperwork around her feet that she had been holding, and a well-meaning nurse pressing a damp paper towel to her forehead and breathing the remnants of her lunch over her face and alright, hon? Usually a box of apple juice and an escort out to her car to make sure she doesn’t go offline again. 

The other thing is, unfortunately, she’s pretty sure her little fainting, fading thing has gotten worse over the years. A conditioned response, she thinks, that cold sweat starts the second she walks into the waiting room, already anticipating what comes next. And today, well, even worse than some of the others. Twelve hours fasted, and no, that certainly won’t help her case, no matter how much water she downed before she came here, no matter how tight she squeezes her fist in the hopes of pumping even one vein up enough to be tenable. She looks at the woman sitting across from her in the waiting room, reading a back-ordered issue of Cosmo, flipping and flippant and really, why can’t she be like that? Why can’t she be normal like that? Instead, her heel is doing a frantic tap, whole leg jerking with it, and everytime she checks her watch she feels her heart creep a little further up into her throat. 

If she’s being honest, she thought about canceling her labs. No, doc, all good, doc, don’t need to know, doc. And then a friend pointed out, frustratingly, that avoidance is only going to make it worse. Right, so, right, so right, so, here she is. And here’s the nurse opening the door and right, calling her name, and it’s a man nurse, male nurse, though she’s pretty sure she’s not being PC by making that specification in her mind because really, twenty-first century, and really, anyone can be a nurse. But not anyone, right? Lots of schooling, right? Right. She realizes a bit too late that she hadn’t responded to the nurse calling her name, jerking up out of her chair and trying for a smile that she thinks probably looks more like constipation. And that’s just great because now man nurse, sorry, just nurse, probably thinks she’s constipated and she’d rather not have the, actually, very handsome, just nurse, thinking that on top of whatever she’s got going on that necessitates lab work she also can’t take a shit. Right. 

“We’re going to be in this room right here.” Handsome just nurse has a nice voice too, deep but kind, and a strong jawline, and a patchy beard but she likes that it’s patchy, and he’s tan and he’s got one of those big watches that tells you how hard your heart was beating on your run and he probably runs in the afternoon after clocking out of the needle-in-arms gig and that’s probably why he’s so tan, probably has a golden retriever who runs with him too, because he looks like a golden retriever guy, dark flop of wavy hair and that smile and oh, oh, he just asked her a question and now she’s supposed to answer it. 

“I’m sorry, could you say that again?” He smiles, nods, being nice, at least, about her whole scared prey animal situation. She presses her palm down hard on her knee to keep it from bouncing any more. 

“It says on this order that these labs need to be taken fasted. Can you confirm to me that you haven’t had anything to eat or drink besides water in the last twelve hours?” Oh yes, yep, she can confirm that for you, Marcus, his name is Marcus, says so on his little lanyard badge. Thanks for the easy one, Marcus, pitch right down the middle, Marcus, with your nice smile and your clipboard and your, well, needles and tubes. But before he can get started with his, well, needles and tubes, she makes a strangled, sort of despondent sound because in situations like these, she comes with a warning label. 

“I should let you know I have, um, bad veins? Honestly, you can just start with my hands, I don’t mind it. And also, I’m a fainter, yeah, so, it happens every time, just so you know.” And usually, usually, her spiel is given very little notice, mmmokay, hon. Sure, they’ll lay her back, how merciful, so she doesn’t crack her skull open on the way out of conscious orbit. That’s about it, though. But this time, she thinks, might just be different.

“Okay, thank you for giving me the heads up. If you’re sure you’re alright with starting with the hands then it’s fine by me to get it done that way.” So, so fine, Marcus, and maybe, just maybe, she thinks she might not pass out this time. He sets the exam table at a reclined angle and she wills her rigid spine to settle against it, trying to find the balance between breathing so deeply she starts to get light headed, and not breathing at all. In case you were wondering, yes, she is on medication for anxiety, it just doesn’t seem to presently be working. 

“Just gonna feel around a bit here for a good one.” She only feels a little insane for the kick and clench in her heart when he takes her one hand in both of his, because he’s just palpating the back of her hand to find, as he said, a good one. Yes, the word for it is palpating, and there is certainly nothing romantic nor, hello, sexual about anything that’s called palpating. But, hey, taking wins where she can get them, and even through the latex gloves, his hands are warm and big and very know what they’re doing about the whole thing. And she’s no expert, obviously, but he’s got a very nice, very visible vein in his forearm, and she bets phlebotomists love him, bets that when he gets blood drawn, he’s in and out no problem, bets that even she could draw blood from him. Nope, nothing sexual about that, nothing weird about that, right? Right. Nothing sexual either, when he ties off the tight band around her arm and she watches his one bicep flex a little with the effort. 

“I can count you down, or you can look away and I’ll just get it done, whichever you prefer.”

“Uh, no preference, I’ll just look away and you can do whatever you want to me.” Jesus. Jesus fucking Christ. She realizes exactly what she just said a bit too late, him, Marcus, nice nurse Marcus, letting out a laugh that fizzles out into a cough. Great, now she’s made her fucking phlebotomist uncomfortable, possibly one of the last people you want to make uncomfortable. But if that, whatever that was, lingers, he doesn’t show it, already swiping an antiseptic wipe over the back of her hand and pulling his little cart of tubes closer to himself. And she knows this part, she’s good at this part, letting her eyes sweep up and to the right, because he’s on her left, and willing whatever vein he decided is a good one to stay a good one. Little pinch, little prayer, she lets out a held breath when he says a quiet alright and keeps the needle exactly where it is. Hallelujah.

“This might take a little longer, just because we’re drawing from your hand.”

“I’ll bleed as fast as I can then.” At the very least, he laughs, even though she wishes she had kept that one to herself. 

“Do you live around here?”

“What kind of question is that?”

“Sorry, I’m trying to distract you.” 

“Didn’t they teach you how to do that in like, phlebotomy school?” She still has her eyes turned up and away, only a little wince when he switches out one tube for another. He hums at her question.

“Not really, I could ask you about the weather, is that better?” 

“It’s cloudy. Not much of a conversation starter.” 

“Well, why don’t you ask me something, since you’re such an expert on starting conversations.”

“Do you have a golden retriever?”

“What?”

“Sorry, you just, you look like the kind of guy who’d have a golden retriever.” Another tube clicks into place, but she’s not paying any attention to that now. 

“Uh, no, no golden retriever. I do however have a very old, very deaf pit mix named Lucille.” Goddamnit, somehow that’s hotter than the golden retriever. 

“Great name.”

“Yeah, I thought so too. She came with it when I adopted her.” God. Fucking. Damn it. What next, is he a volunteer firefighter on the weekends?

“Alright, that’s the last one.”

“Wait, really?” She chances a skittish glance but, sure enough, the needle is out.

“Yep, just let me get a band-aid for you and you’re all set.” Is he? Is she? Really? Going to make it out of here with no blackout? She considers, very briefly, as Marcus is smoothing a band-aid over the back of her hand, whether it’s possible to put a phlebotomist on retainer. 

“If you want to sit for a minute and make sure you’re feeling alright before getting up that’s totally fine. I can also get you water or juice if you’re getting lightheaded.” 

“Oh, no, I’m fine actually. Which, hey, thanks for not making me faint and stuff– that’s a first for me in a very long–” Oh, oh, stops herself mid-compliment because oh, oh, maybe stood up too fast, because the room is going a little dark, a little sideways, cold prickle and nauseous and–

“Easy, easy, I’m gonna help you sit up, okay?” His voice is a little fuzzy around the edges. To be honest, he’s a little fuzzy around the edges, though she knows right away what happened. No, not her first rodeo, like she blinked and then came to in a strange sprawl on the end of the exam table. Marcus presents a dixie cup to her, holds it right in her line of sight because clearly, she’s still a little slumped, still a little vacant, and a little warm, actually, which is new, and a little pleasant, and, oh, it’s because his arm is curled around her shoulders, firm palm held there to help her sit up. Oh. He smells like clorox and something woodsy, and it shouldn’t, but it kind of works. 

“You feeling okay?”

“Mmmhmm.” She’s afraid of what might come out of her mouth if she doesn’t keep her lips pressed in a thin line, mmhmms again when he asks if she can sit up on her own, only a little despondent when he takes his arm away. 

“So, you really weren’t kidding about that happening every time, huh?” 

“Nope, wish I was. It’s– I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?”

“That you had to deal with that.”

“You don’t have to be sorry about that, it’s part of the job. And actually, you fainted about as perfectly as I could’ve asked you to.”

“I didn’t know you could faint like, well.” 

“Right before you went down you said I’m gonna faint. That’s a lot better than getting no heads up and turning around to find my patient unresponsive on the ground.” 

“Oh gee, I bet you say that to all your patients.” Lord, if there was ever a time to put her out of her misery it’d be now. She probably still looks green from her little trip to outer space but sure, flirt with Marcus, handsome nurse Marcus who just watched you absolutely eat it. Kick your feet and bat your eyelashes while you’re at it. 

“I take it you’re feeling better then? Are you okay to walk out to the front desk?” And the rest is, mercifully, easy. He walks her to the front desk, squeezes her shoulder and gives her a good job today that she likes a little too much. She makes a mental note to herself to never come back to this clinic for any future bloodwork, lest she make a fool of herself all over again in front of a man who, with any luck, she will never see again. 

…

“Yes, this is she speaking.” This is she speaking in the middle of the cereal aisle with a half-filled grocery basket at her feet. She sets her gaze on a hyper-realized image of a granola cluster (now with real strawberries!) while the woman on the other end of the phone tells her that her lab results came in and were sent over to her doctor. 

“Oh, great, thank you for letting me know. Do you know– did things look okay?” 

“We don’t interpret the results, ma’am. Your doctor will go over that with you.” She doesn’t quite catch that, doesn’t catch the woman’s ma’am? either, a little preoccupied with staring down the aisle, because is that? Is he? He looks good out of the scrubs. 

“Ma’am?”

“Sorry, no, um, of course. Thanks again.” If the woman had anything else to tell her, it’s a little too late for it, already hung up, and she’s trying to decide if she wants him to see her, or if fleeing immediately is the best course of action. He probably wouldn’t even recognize her, she thinks. It’s been a couple of weeks since the whole ordeal. And actually, she’d prefer if he didn’t recognize her. Oh yeah, the one who, well, ate it. But it seems the choice has already been made for her, because he saw her, walking down the aisle toward her, with his chin tilted down and part of a smile like he isn’t sure, but he’s pretty sure. He says her name like a question. Guilty as charged.

“Marcus, right?” Like she forgot his name, ha. His smile stretches, a little brighter, palm to the nape of his neck, and while she got the golden retriever part wrong, she totally clocked the rest, watch on his wrist and nice-looking athletic shorts and just-right-tight t-shirt with the little swoosh on the chest. She thinks his hair might even be a little sweat-damp, curled ends nearly getting in his eyes. In other words, she’s a goner. 

“How have you been since we– you, well–”

“Since I passed out on you?” Yeah, that, he laughs out and yeah, she likes him, sue her. 

“Just for the record, I believe it was you who said I passed out perfectly, so.” Shrug, so, he takes a step closer, leans in a little like he’s going to tell her a secret. In the cereal aisle, of all places. 

“Just for the record, I really don’t say that to all my patients.”

“No?”

“Nope, just the nervous, pretty ones.”

“I was not nervous.”

“You weren’t?”

“Nope.”

“Are you just gonna blow past the other thing?”

“What thing?”

“The pretty thing.”

“Yep.” Something a little giddy, like being back in high school, shared, shit-eating and smug grins. He shakes his head and she rolls her lips back in her mouth to stop her smile from getting any cheesier. 

“So, you do live around here then?” 

“Mm, yeah, I do. And so do you?”

“I do.”

“Nice, nice.”

��Lovely weather we’re having.”

“Wow.” 

“What? I’m making conversation.”

“You’re still not very good at it.”

“I’ll keep working on it for you.”

“Sure, okay. What kind of cereal do you get?”

“What kind do you think I get?”

“You look like a Kashi guy, if I’m honest.”

“Somehow I feel insulted.”

“Well.”

“You’re not even right either.” 

“No? What do you get then?” He just smiles, steps away and reaches up to the top of the shelf and she is very grateful to General Mills for being located on the top shelf because his shirt rides up just enough to see a bare hip. In cheerios we trust. 

“Apple cinnamon, seriously?”

“What? It’s a classic.”

“Actually, you know what, that tracks.” 

“What do you get?” She waggles her basket in front of him in response, goods already procured. 

“Peanut butter chex, respectable choice.”

“Thank you, thank you.” 

“You know, I’d say we’re pretty good at this conversation thing.”

“Yeah, we’re not bad.”

“Do you want to do this again sometime? Not in the cereal aisle?”

“What, you mean like in the produce section?” He smiles at that, rolls his eyes, his basket lightly bonking against hers. 

“I was thinking more like dinner, or drinks if that’s your thing?” 

“I might be free on Saturday.”

“I might also be free on Saturday.” 

“Well, sounds like we’re both free on Saturday.”

“Can I get your number?” His lockscreen is a picture of a dog. Lucille, he tells her, before she was very old and very deaf. She can’t help how big her smile gets at that. 

“Text me, and we’ll do this whole conversation thing again.” I will, he says, phone tucked back into his pocket, though he seems to think twice before asking her can I see something really quick. Not entirely sure what he means when she nods, but then his hand sort of hovers over her forearm, may I? He really does have nice hands, she doesn’t think twice about nodding again. 

“Oh yeah, we didn’t have to use your hand. I could have totally gotten it from here.” His hand curled around her elbow and his thumb lightly pressing into what she can only assume is a vein, and he says it so earnestly that she can’t help the incredulous laugh that rises up in her chest. 

“Really? You’re still stuck on that, huh?” He smiles something sheepish, pad of his thumb rubbing an apology into her skin before pulling away. She didn’t really want him to pull away.

“Sorry, occupational hazard, I guess.” 

“Kinda weird, you know.”

“Did I just ruin this whole thing?”

“Mmm, no, I kinda like it.”

“So, Saturday?”

“Looking forward to it, Marcus.” 

[starshideurfics]

Thirsty Thursday - Family Video

steddie, omegaverse, mdni 🔞

Eddie’s putzing around in the horror section at Family Video when the bell over the door jingles. He glances without thinking, shocked to see Robin Buckley lead Steve Harrington inside.

He’s nosy, wants to know what the hell is up with that. But he also doesn’t want to attract Keith’s attention. Eddie’s taking his time to hang in the A/C as long as possible, nearly an hour already.

Not that Buckley is capable of being quiet, so he hears plenty.

How they’re job hunting and how Robin probably knows more about film than Keith does. How Steve Fuckin’ Harrington likes Return of the Jedi! Even if he can’t remember the title and calls ewoks teddy bears. 

Color Eddie surprised.

Add in Steve’s bright, colorblocked outfit and his swoopy hair, the way he absolutely takes out the Fast Times promotional standee and hurries to fix it, resume in his mouth like an enthusiastic labrador retriever.

Embarrassingly, Eddie realizes he’s been pumping out his campfire and marshmallow scent, too charmed to lock down his sudden interest, subconsciously trying to draw in the stupidly endearing omega.

He figures he should go before he actually catches any attention, dipping around the counter and out the door, but not before he hears Buckley and Harrington get hired on the spot.

It’s easy enough for Eddie to memorize Steve’s schedule, only going to rent movies while he’s working. Sometimes he drags the guys with him, or maybe just Jeff, giving more cover to surreptitiously stare at the moles on Steve’s neck.

“You aren’t being nearly as sneaky as you think,” Jeff mutters on more than one occasion . “Just go talk to him.”

“Can’t.” Eddie keeps Jeff between himself and the counter, eyes on the slasher movies like he’s agonizing over his decision.

“Why not?”

“Cuz I’ll say something stupid like, ‘Please, sit on my face, I wanna drown in your pussy.’ That’s why,” Eddie whispers, risking a glance towards Steve.

“What? Seriously!”

“Have you seen what a mess he is now? And add in that apple pie scent—my mouth is watering and my dick is—”

“Christ! I’m sorry I asked. But I still think you should talk to him.” Jeff turns his attention to the shelf in front of them. “Nightmare on Elm Street?” he asks, reaching for the case.

“Yeah…” Then Eddie stares as Jeff brings the tape up to the counter, his best friend effortlessly making small talk and laughing as he rents the movie. Like a coward, Eddie hurries out of the video store, waiting for Jeff in his van.

When Eddie goes to return the tape the next day, he’s surprised when Steve looks at Robin and says, “I’m going on my break,” even as he accepts the tape from Eddie, their fingers brushing.

“Yeah, whatever,” Robin answers, flipping through a magazine.

Broad fingers wrap around Eddie’s wrist and drag him back to the Family Video break room past the “Employees Only” sign.

Steve smiles at him as he closes the door behind them. “Sorry. Just got tired of waiting for you to make a move.”

“What?” Eddie has never known Steve Harrington to be the kind of omega who waits for an alpha.

“You aren’t doing a very good job of controlling your scent.”

Eddie gulps, cheeks heating.

“And your friend said you were super into me, which… Yeah, definitely picked up on that.”

Nodding, Eddie waits for his tongue to untie, pretty sure he’s gonna die first when Steve steps closer, presses his hand to Eddie’s chest. “You surprised me,” he manages to say.

“Sorry about that.” Steve doesn’t look sorry at all as he leans in, sniffs at Eddie’s neck. “I’m too used to Robin, bad at personal space with pack.”

“Not what I meant—the ewoks—I mean. Shit. Wait.” Eddie closes his eyes, Steve’s scent filling his nose and making him warm. He smells safe. Familiar.

“Yes?” Steve murmurs, hand moving up to touch the skin above the collar of Eddie’s shirt.

“Not pack, what do you mean bad at personal space with pack?”

“Can tell you should be pack.” He nuzzles at Eddie’s cheek and whispers, “Want to be your pack.”

Eddie gives into his instincts then, whining and holding Steve’s face still, bringing their mouths together. He has no idea what he’s doing, but Steve clearly does as he gentles the kiss, grinning as he pulls away.

“My shift ends at seven. Meet me at my place at seven-thirty.”

Eddie nods. “Uh-huh, yep, whatever you say.”

Steve glances up at the clock. “But we’ve still got six minutes before my break ends, and you need to practice,” he teases, pulling Eddie back in for another kiss.

[slutt4ellie]

Hearts Over Hierarchy

Loser!Ellie x Popular!Reader

Do opposites really attract?

Summery : When you run into a girl who rarely makes acknowledgment she even exists, there’s something that undoubtedly draws you to her..and a spark is created.

Warnings -> / Weed usage / Reader is confused about her feelings? / Ellie’s also confused about her feelings (ig?) / Just full loser Ellie / Really brief Skater!Ellie / eventual smut (probably) / fluff / tension / Little bits of smau / Toxic friendship / (Lmk if I missed anything else!)

WC: 4.8k (longest fic i’ve ever wrote!)

(Not proofread!)

DAILY CLICK 🇵🇸 - (takes like 2 seconds 🩷)

(Ellie)

The loud buzzing of Ellie’s alarm shoots her eyes open and her body halfway up. “F-fuck” She grumbles under her muffled voice. Running her right hand down her face.

Ellie grabs the alarm rested on her left bedside table and she’s finally met with the time 9:36am. “Oh fuck” Ellie says quickly stands up out of her single bed, planted in the corner of her single bedroom dorm. Classes start at 9:45. She has a total of 9 minutes to get dressed, leave her dorm, and run onto campus. Which has her leading to the fact there’s almost 0 fucking way she’s making it on time.

Since Ellie’s already up and out of her bed she runs to her dresser to throw on a pair of boxers and a sports bra which is almost instantly covered by “clean” sweat pants and a nike hoodie. It didn’t smell bad so it was fine!

4 minutes, it only took Ellie 4 minutes to get changed and grabbed her skateboard. She also glances over at the time as it now reads now reads 9:40. So this means her time isn’t “horrible” I mean getting ready in 4 minutes is sorta impressive, at least in her mind? Plus campus shouldn’t take that long, as long as she’s fast.

Ellie grabs her skateboard and leaves her dorm quickly running down the stairs, having basically 0 time to wait around and sit there like a duck for the elevator. And as soon as she’s met with concrete she’s off.

The reason why Ellie being late is such a fucking hassle is because she’s already been late a fair share of times building a reputation for it, when she walks into class and shit it doesn’t go without dirty looks. But it’s a new school year, so she’s tryna live by the corny ass saying “new year new me!” and actually not miss half the classes like last term.

(You)

You’re up early, 8:00 to be exact. You quietly leave your bedroom trying not to wake up the rest of your sorority sisters as you tiptoe through the halls. And just as you thought you were clear, a pair of blue eyes are met with yours.

Emily your best friend since freshman year. You two were like glue through high school, nothing could separate the two of you, sure you had fights and disagreements but nothing seemed like it could break the bond between you two..

As you meet her blue eyes you quickly notice her lips turning into a light smirk. “Why the fuck are you tiptoeing like we’re in a fucking Tom and Jerry episode?” You let out a pity laugh and smile “Oh ha ha…! Maybe because i’m nice and I didn’t wanna wake up all you guys?”

Emily smiles right back at you. “Why are you up so fucking early, thought your class started at 9:45?” You nod your head agreeing with her statement. “It does. I just wanted to be on top of it you know!” Emily shakes her head. “No I don’t fucking know? I don’t wake up a full hour and 45 minutes before my classes.”

You smile, you could ask her why she’s up but you already know her class starts at 8:30 (ew.) so going through more questions seems unethical. “Well!” You trail off then pick back up where you ended. “I need to have a shower sooo” Emily nods and goes back to her room “Yeah yeah!”

꧁✵★✵꧂

The steam fills your bathroom and the air is still warm from your lingering shower.

It was weird today. You don’t usually feel nervous for school, I mean you knew people, people knew you. There was literally nothing for you to feel even the slightest bit of tenseness. Yet it was still just there.?

Your just blaming it on basic nerves, you’re not really “excited” to get back into the grove of school, get a ton of work in before due dates which are are way to fucking fast. But either way you knew you had to suck it up so you pushed yourself out those doors and into your car.

Right on time 9:30. It should only take 10 minutes to drive onto campus and that leaves you with about 5 minutes before the lecture starts. At least that’s what you fucking planned.

But just to your luck. There was an incident, nothing serious. Just ending up backing up the roads. And any fucking other day you wouldn’t have really cared. But you really could not afford to be late on your first day back. You wanted to make sure you’re on top of everything, and the walk of shame into the classroom is probably one of the worst things person could every fucking experience.

Once you make it on campus you speed walk through the halls cutting through people just trying to get to your door. Then everything will be fine and normal, you won’t have to worry about how stup-

A hard thud goes straight into your back

You heard about 3 things fall flat on the ground none of the things being yours. And as shitty as it seems, you were genuinely considering walking away just to get to fucking class..

You’re not a complete dick and you were raised better. So this leads you to reluctantly turn around and your met with? Well you don’t exactly know, she looks familiar but maybe she’s a year younger so you don’t often see her. She has brunet- no, auburn hair, green eyes, and freckles that go all around her face. She looks familiar but you can’t put your finger on it.

You look down and notice a binder, a now slightly cracked phone and skateboard which finally you make the decision to crouch down. The auburn hair girl is mumbling a bunch of sorry’s “F-fuck that’s on me. I-i’m like super late? So I was looking down and sh-“ You cut her off and shake your head picking up her phone and binder as she picks up her skateboard. “You’re good..Fuck I’m late too.” You chuckle looking at her as you stand up, quickly handing her the items she dropped on the ground.

You give out your hand to shake “I’m-“ and as your about to say your name, you’re cut off by her voice “N-no I know you, you sat in front of me last term” You don’t know what really led you to say the next part but what else were you going to say?? You didn’t notice her once, lying seemed like a better approach. “Right! Um what was it…A- no H?” You notices how her eyebrows furrow, the fact you definitely don’t know her name is becoming apparent.

“I-uh Ellie” She shakes your hand.

“Yeah! I was getting there!” You smile looking back at her before talking again.

“We’re you?” She tilts her head talking in a tone laced with a joking sound..just from her demeanour alone you can tell she was kidding.

“I was..” You shift your gaze down to her lips then back up. You weren’t trying to be weird or anything, you just did it on instinct which now on the contrary seems a tad bit creepy since this is literally your first time even talking to her.

Once you meet her eyes again you nervously cleared your throat and starting talking once again. “Well what room are you!”

Ellie notices the quick change of subject and she nervously shakes her head “U-uhh fuck 217 I think…?” You nod and look at her “Fuck, okay shit me too?” Your voice stops then picks back up “Want to walk?”

Ellie perks up and nods. It kept playing in the back of her mind why the fuck you were talking to her. Ellie wasn’t popular, not your level of popularity. Everyone knew you. So the fact you were standing in front of her, talking to her. She was almost confused. Yet she wasn’t complaining..

It only took a few minutes before you reached the classroom door, as you check your phone you see you’re a bit late. Nothing to complain about, it’s only 9:47 so who cares..?

When opening the doors your eyes lock with the seats in the back left corner, there open, and no one is sitting in them. You look at Ellie who seems nervous.

Little do you know in her mind she’s wondering where the fuck she’s going to sit.

The only single seats are in the middle of like 5 fucking people.

Once you notices her eyes are scanning the room and her whole face is plastered with a nervous expression you nudge her lightly.

“Wanna sit over there” You point your finger and her eyes quickly follow it.

She seems confused. Like her brain just did a 360 but she stutters over her words when talking back to you. “Y-you wanna s-sit together?”

“Yeah?” You smile and let out a chuckle.

“R-right! Yeah- Yeah we can sit over there.” She smiles and nods looking at you.

As you sit down your phone buzzes in your left pocket not wasting much time to pull it out. There’s one message Emily. Asking if you made it okay and stuff. Which leads to a mini conversation.

You couldn’t help but feel almost icked out? Emily’s not usually rude so her response was weird, and out of character. You wanted to believe maybe she was making a statement or something but you replied regardless.

She was being so strange, like not her usual self. Which lead your eyebrows to furrow and you were abo-

“You okay?” Ellie’s voice says softly probably noticing the fact your eyebrows are furrowed and your face now showing clear signs of annoyance.

“O-oh yeah!” you reply now embarrassed as you feel blood rush to your cheeks. “Just one of my friends, i’m good though!”

Ellie nods and smiles. “Okay, just wanted to make sure?”

You haven’t really met anyone like Ellie. I guess other then Emily? But it still took months to feel comfortable with her. With Ellie it seems almost easy? Like fast?

Your whole friend group is popular. Which wasn’t horrible? The benefits of being popular is nice? Sorta.. But unfortunately half of your “friend group” is fake.

Talking behind peoples back kinda fake.

You tried not to let it bug you though, you had people in your friend group you obviously loved, so you would just stick in that crowd.

But there was always some anxiety which came with it. Like you didn’t know if things you said would get passed around, so when talking to Ellie, knowing nothing had the chance of somehow going to anyone, else it was refreshing.

The class was finally fucking over and you packed up your laptop and papers.

As you were about to leave you said a quick bye to Ellie trying to be respectful. You didn’t wanna ask for her number because you didn’t want to come across as weird, you two just met? So that could wait?

As you turned around there was a quick “wait!” which was clearly from Ellie.

You just turned around trying to read her expression but as you were she cut off your train of thought. “C-can I uh get your number! I was thinking we could maybe study or something. This math s-shit is like kicking my ass” After her sentence there was a dry awkward chuckle. The fact you didn’t immediately respond worried her

Did she come off as weird?

To pushy?

You’re popular why the fuck-

“Yeah!” You smile walking back over to her.

“Are you busy right now? We can go back to my place and study if you want” You say not breaking eye contact.

Ellie quickly breaks the eye contact handing you her phone before she clears her throat. “W-no! no i’m not busy, right now is good actually” Her voice cracks in the middle of the sentence leading her to clear her throat once again.

You grab her slightly cracked phone and nod..

“K cool, it’s not a long drive and my cars out in the front lot.”

In a car

With you.

Great!

꧁✵★✵꧂

Saying the car ride is awkward is an understatement? Reason number one, you don’t know what to say because you literally just met Ellie.

I mean you’re alright on small talk but what the fuck do you say to someone you met a solid 2 hours ago?

And on the other hand Ellie is Ellie.

She can’t pick up on small talk for the life of her. So when you finally speak it almost feels like a blessing and a curse.

“Sorry about you phone?” You say, both hands still on the steering wheel as you drive.

“Huh?” Fuck this is awkward.

“Your phone, it’s cracked. Sorry?” You say a smile cracking.

“I ran head first into your bag I’m pretty sure that’s on me” Ellie chuckles looking at you as you drive.

“I guess, but maybe if I was walking faster it wouldn’t have happened!” You say glancing over at her before you turn your eyes back to the road.

Ellie’s face turns a light pink as soon as you made split eye contact with her. She’s silently now thanking ever fucking god in the universe that you turned your head before you could notice.

“Maybe but I think that was a sign I shouldn’t walk with my head down” Ellie let’s out a slight laugh.

The silence falls once again neither of you knowing what to says.

“D-“

“Sor-“

Both of speak at the same time a dry chuckle coming from both your lips.

“You go.” Ellie says nodding.

“I was just going to say sorry for not noticing you?” You say clearing your throat anxiously.

“What do you mean?” Ellie says tilting her head still looking at your side profile.

“Like- I sat in front of you for months you know?.. just the fact I didn’t noticed you makes me feel like an egotistical prick?” You say rubbing the back of your neck with your left hand.

Ellie shakes her head at your response. “No! Fuck I barley talked, trust me, you not noticing doesn’t make me have hard feelings” Ellie says quickly, she doesn’t want you to feel guilty for anything.

You just smile at her response and nod. “What we’re you going to say?” She quickly talks “Just gonna ask do you get what the fuck is going on in class”

You quickly laugh and shake your head “Fuck no! I’m actually so ass at math your gonna have to walk me through it.” Ellie smiles and nods. “What makes you think i’m gonna be good at it!” She says with a chuckle.

“Well you have to be good at it because we’re official study partners!” You say before nodding your head. “Official??” Ellie smiles

“Oh yeah, official” You nod and continue nervously. “We’re uh here!” You park the car in front of your sorority.

“I never been to a fucking sorority” Ellie says getting out of the car with her backpack in hand. “No?” You say looking at her. “Nah” She shakes her head “They feel cult-ish?” She laughs causing you to smile and look at her “So you’re joining my cult then?”

“Guess soo” She drags out her ‘so’ dramatically before walking to the two big white doors which leads into the sorority house.

You and Ellie studied for a few hours. Looking outside the sky was now dark. Rather then the bright blue it shined before.

You guys studying was basically just an excuse to talk, you got to know a lot about each other. Ellie opened up to you, you opened up to her.

You haven’t ever had a friendship where you got so comfortable so fast. It’s like the fact you guys met a solid few hours ago, it was completely disregarded. It’s like you connected so fucking fast.

You learned Ellie had two close friends Dina and Jesse. They didn’t go to the same school as you and her, instead they went to one about 30 minutes out. You “learned” she’s painfully shy, which you already got the message as soon as she ran into you.

She let it slip she actually debated talking to you last term but you seemed extremely intimidating which you laughed at. But she was standing her ground, saying like you gave off a bit of scary vibes.

“Okay scary?” You replied laughing

“Scary!” She says looking at you. Both of your guys studying papers are far from filled out, almost completely empty. But to be fair that’s the last thing on your mind.

“I need one fucking example from when I was being ‘scary’” You say defensively looking at her. The two of you are crisscrossed on your queen bed a bit to close considering how much space the both of you had. Both of your knees touching.

“K well- I don’t have a fucking time list of all the times I thought you seemed scary!” Ellie says shaking her head looking at you.

Your hand instinctively falls on her knee “I’m asking for ONE example!” You made sure to emphasize the word one. To point out it was really fucking easy.

Ellie’s whole face heats up and she feels like her body’s on fire causing her to stutter over almost ever other word “I-I d-don’t know l-like one t-time I heard you talking about h-how you were ‘gonna murder him’” She says chuckling to mask the nervousness that’s coursing through her veins.

You try to recall when you said this, it suddenly clicking “Okay wait! No there’s context!” You chuckle and now both of you are closer. It’s like each time a sentence is said, you’re moving further in.

“What fucking context could there be!” Ellie spits out laughing, which causes you to laugh harder.

“I was talking about some dick who used one of my friends!” You laugh your head falling onto Ellie’s shoulder.

“I guess that’s fair?” Ellie’s voice gets quieter. You can her heart beat which to say it’s fast. That’s would be an understatement.

You pull your head off her shoulder and look at her. Her face is pretty pink and you feel like you can ever little detail that revolves around her face. One thing about seeing ever detail, it had a result of your faces being mere inches from each others.

You don’t even know what the fuck led you to do this but you slowly guided your left hand to cuff Ellie’s cheek which now has the both of you to instinctively lean in.

Ellie does the same, manly following your lead as her hand also goes onto your cheek and now your noses brush against each other.

And just as your lips were about to touch a knock hits right against your door.

You and Ellie both quickly flinch back clearing your throat nervously.

You get up faster then her and the person behind the door is no other then Emily. You hadn’t texted her since the whole weird ass messages she sent a few hours ago.

Ellie’s thoughts are now going all over the place. Because you two almost just kissed, a knock breaks it up..and now there’s a girl who in her mind, is way better looking!

Ellie doesn’t wanna think it, but the fact you might have a girlfriend is lurking in the back of her mind. She wouldn’t be surprised to say the least.

“Hey” Emily says eyeing Ellie who is now putting her papers back into her backpack nervously, her hands fumbling over each sheet..

“Hi..?” You say looking at Emily. She’s eyeing Ellie with a look you haven’t noticed before. And as you were going to say something along the lines of “Do you need something” but Emily’s voice talks over your thoughts.

“Can we talk” She says now meeting your eyes.

“I mean I have someone ove-“ But before you can finish your sentence Ellie intervenes. “It’s- It’s fine i’m heading out anyway. You know it’s dark..? So?”

“I- uh, alright. You want me to drive you?” You say looking at Ellie which she almost instantly shakes her head “I’m not tryna be a burden i’ll just skate back, my dorms on campus…so i’ll uh, i’ll be chill..” Ellie says grabbing her skateboard which was planted in your room. Right after Ellie grabs her skateboard she already is almost out of the door. But you quickly talk.

“Just text me when you get to your dorm, so I know you got back safe and shit.” You say softly.

And just like that she’s gone, and your standing awkwardly in a room with Emily. When the front door finally shuts she got the sudden urge to talk. “Ellie?”

You nod confused. “Uh- yeah..? We were just studying…”

Emily nods looking at you. “Why though?”

“Sorry..?” You say now even more confused then you were previously.

“Like why hang out with her?” Emily says looking at you.

You think she’s joking so you laugh sarcastically “Fuck off?”

“I’m being for real, Williams, she’s like weird dude... That’s literally all anyone talked about when she was in my class.” Emily now chuckles and you shake your head.

“She’s not even weird?” You say defensively. “Have you talked to her?”

Emily shakes her head fast “I don’t wanna fucking talk to her?? Like I said she’s weird.”

You’ve never seen Emily act so blatantly rude, like she had her own opinions but she knew whether or not she should announce them. Plus! She’s never even met Ellie yet she’s judging her so easily with no second thought. You tried to push it behind you, trying to end the conversation with a quick “I gotta go to bed so. We can talk later.”

Emily scoffs “Great! Now you’re fucking being weird!”

“Im not even being weird! You’re just being rude, i’m not gonna listen you talk shit about someone you haven’t even had a conversation with!”

Emily just shakes her head “I’m hardly talking shit shit. I’m just saying what I heard, fuck.” The fact she’s trying to justify her shitty behaviour and actions just makes you more annoyed.

“K great talk Emily. I gotta get sleep” You say before shutting the door with a hard slam as Emily gets out of your room.

It’s been a few weeks since that whole situation, Emily’s been okay? She apologized and shit but everything is still a bit tense?.. Like she lets out mini sighs when you say your going to hang out with Ellie.

You assumed this was because maybe she felt left out, but every time you even attempted to ask her she always shook her head and replied with “Eh sorta busy with homework”

So you dropped in, she was clearly going through some weird ass phase with you new friendship and you just wanted her to push through with it. You didn’t feel like guiding Emily through it all.

And then on the other hand

Ellie

neither of you mentioned what happened in your room that night, or what almost happened? It wasn’t relevant, some friends almost kiss! You two almost kissed…? And it was nothing important.

Not something to jeopardize your new friendship. So you dropped it. And you internally prayed she would too.

Ellie on the other hand. She was thinking about the moment constantly, like it was a virus infiltrating every single free fucking thought she had. She doesn’t know if the blue eyed girl was your girlfriend, but at the end of the day she didn’t wanna push the subject. You hadn’t talked about it so it wasn’t something she was willing to bring up. Seemed better to drop it!

And here you are, laying down on your bed extremely bored with nothing to fucking do. Your mind was just wondering, thinking about class, school, Elli-

There’s buzzing coming from your bedside table and you quickly grab you phone.

Ellie.

You laughed at your phone. Ellie’s jokes were actually so bad it made them funny. You kept texting her no plan of stopping, but then she tells you she has a little something!

You smile at her messages quickly following up by closing your phone. You didn’t waste time to grab you car keys quickly leaving your sorority house.

꧁✵★✵꧂

The car ride wasn’t all that bad, it was nice knowing that you’ll get to be with Ellie again. Plus it was literally only 10 minutes so when you get there you quickly park and rush to the campus dorms.

As you go into the building you take the left to the elevators, shortly entering before you click floor 2.

As it stops and the doors open and you lead yourself to Ellie’s dorm which you’ve now been in a few times.

After knocking it literally doesn’t take long before she answers..her hairs messy, a few strands down her face and she gives you a quick smile. One thing you instantly noticed was the strong scent of weed that exits her room. “You’ve been busy” you say sarcastically giving her a quick smile.

Her eyes are red and she’s clearly faded. “Soooo busy!” She says sarcastically before it’s followed by yet another smile.

You go into her room and sit on her little single bed that’s planted right in the corner of her bedroom.

She passes you an already lit joint which you take a drag from.

“I wanna ask you something?” Ellie says as she takes the joint back.

You nod letting out a short “hm?”

“You obviously don’t have to say yes” she starts dragging her words a mix of nervousness and being high.

“Okay..?” You say nodding, you don’t know what she’s gonna ask but either way you’re nervous.

“Jesse and Dina, they rent cabin every year. And like my not tryna really third wheel so I was wondering…if maybe like-?” Ellie says shifting her gaze down into her lap.

“When is it?” You ask looking at her.

Ellie’s almost surprised you didn’t immediately turn it down so she quickly clears her throat. “Fuck sorry- It’s in a week. You don’t have to com-“

“Yeah I’ll come?” You say, the high now finally clicking in. Ellie’s heart is skipping right now but she quickly pushes it down.

You two are fucking friends. Just friends.

“Sick. O-okay cool. I’ll just like text you everything you’ll need and shit. And it’s like an hour drive so me, you, Jesse and Dina can all just like fucking drive together.”

“Okay cool!” You smile.

You and Ellie. Are going to a cabin together.

Nothing to be nervous about…!

———————————————————

A/N -> Hii! I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I already have a full plot layout for the second one.

This might only be two parts simply because I might be able to fit everything I want with enough detail in just a singular part.

I plan on adding some angst in the next chapter ☹️ (so ig be ready for that!)

I also wanna really emphasize Emily is not homophobic! 😭

I was reading some of this chapter and it sorta seemed implied she was at least a little homophobic, calling Ellie “Weird” and shit, but it’s not because Ellie gay! I’m pretty sure most people might be able to clue on why she’s not to fond of Reader and Ellie’s ‘friendship’ but that’ll be for the next chapter.

I hope you enjoyed!

Taglist : @bready101 @onlinelesbo @amberputh @seraphicsentences @a-little-bit-of-everybody @zoehxnji @cyb3rd0nguh @graviewaviee

[readychilledwine]

Rhys w a small reader with a big mouth?

Little Girl, Big Mouth

Rhys with a mouthy reader headcanons

Warnings - implied smut, reader could be seen as trashy but Rhys loves it

A/n - This anon actually came from an IRL friend. She texted me about it, and I had her clarify if she meant a gossip or big mouth as in a girl who is prone to talking shit and fighting. It was talking shit and fighting, so thanks, Sammie 💕💕

Ps- I will figure out what your username is 👀 but you're very sweet for doing this the way the rest of my followers do instead of just texting me first😭

You aren't a doormat. He refuses to let you be seen as one. Even if that means you get into a verbal argument here and there.

Those verbal arguments have gotten physical.

My baby daddy always tells me not to write a check he can't cash (if you don't know what that means, it means don't start a fight that he can't finsh.) You don't have that problem with Rhysand.

If you stand, mouth firing off insults as someone else is, he will stand too. Ride or die, he won't let you fight without him.

And that is if the man isn’t already behind you, warning the male standing over you without even having to speak that if he lays a hand on you or speaks out of line, he will be finding out why Rhysand is proud to be half illyrian.

You do know time and place, but if someone insults your male, your family, or your court first, all bets are off.

Your mouth is equal opportunity. High fae, lower, male, female, high lord? You don't care. All bets are off the table with you. No one is safe.

Beron? Constantly roasting him. Asking him if beating his wife helps him feel like a real male. Keir? Verbally torn apart. How pathetic he must be to think he has some pull when he lost out on being high lord.

Hell, illyrian males aren't even safe from you. Not when three immediately are behind you the second they feel your mood change.

And it isn't that you can't fight. You are well trained and can more than hold your own. He just prefers you let him.

He's only held you back once. It was from Amren, and he hardly caught you in time before you jumped on her.

Cassian was disappointed. He wanted to watch two tiny females wrestle it out. He said it would be better if pretty lacy outfits were involved, but he was ready to settle for you in your dress and Amren in her two piece outfit.

Rhys did not stop you, nor Amren, from tackling Cassian for that comment.

He will throw you over his shoulder, ignoring you as you scream for him to put you down while still running your mouth as you're carried out of the room. But only if family is involved.

Mother knows they are no exception. You all get on each other's nerves from time to time. Besides Azriel. You could never fight Azriel.

Rhys loves it. He loves how spicy you are. He loves how much fight and sass you have. He loves how it's always to people who are mean.

He does love fighting for you as well. Sometimes, he asks you to pick fights when it's someone he has been itching to get his hands on.

He rewards you throughly when you oblige him.

"Where's that big mouth now, darling?" While your back is arched off the bed, and your mind is just a haze. "Thought you had so much to say earlier."

He loves making his girl with so much to say and so many opinions go dumb for him.

He loves it when all you can think to say is his name and barely thrown together words.

He loves putting your mouth to other uses if you start in on him, too.

He'd keep you tucked under his desk for hours, putting your mouth towards something actually useful if you two fight.

And that's rare. Your opinions are normally shared and mutual. It's why you two work. Otherwise, you would be constantly at each other's throats with how vocally dominant you both like to be.

Overall, he'd change nothing about how sassy you can be. He loves you as is. Even if it means you bandaging his hands after a trip to Illyria.

[codtrashsammy]

Omg I’m having Soulmate!Simon Riley thoughts

Soulmate!Simon Riley who has actually been dreaming of the day he finds his soulmate. Like, sure, he’s still an anxious and self sabotaging little shit, but this is the person who is made for him! This is the person who won’t look at him like a monster, who was literally made to be his other half, who will help mend his broken parts with nothing but love. Right? That’s how it works, right?

Soulmate!Simon Riley who can’t wait to meet you. When he’s able to and has the free time he looks down at the string around his pinky, or the soulmate mark on his forearm hidden amongst tattoos, or the writing that appears on his skin (a shopping list he regularly sees tea on thank god-), or whatever other soulmate prompt there is and just gives himself a few moments to actually look forward to something. I’m the midst of wear he has something waiting for him, something to look forward to, and gods he’s gonna do everything he can to get you.

Soulmate!Simon Riley who has put so much faith into the universe because of you. He prayed to god he decided not to believe in because he always received nothing, not when he had to suffer at the hands of his father, not when he went through torture, not when everything in his mind was telling him to give up already, there’s nothing waiting for him in this world. And then he’d glance to his soul mark/string/doodle on his arm/whatever else and realize that there still is something waiting for him- someone. So he pushes through, he finds the strength, he makes it, because nothing on this earth is gonna keep him from you, nothing in this goddamn universe.

Soulmate!Simon Riley who randomly meets you. It’s gonna be something entirely weird and unexpected, but fuck, he’s enchanted. Enthralled. Enraptured. Upon first glance he already knows you were worth everything, you are worth everything. He’s already obsessed- he was far before he met you but gods now you’ve given him every reason to be. Soft skin, soft hair, pretty eyes, a smile that lights up the deepest corners of his mind, and he quite literally just stares at you for a few minutes because for once he’s *thanking* god, that you exist and that you’re here and that he could meet you.

Oh gods and the kicker?

Soulmate!Simon Riley realizing you hate the idea of soulmates and not understanding why. You were made for him, you’re literally his other half, why are you trying so hard to run away when he’s spent his life praying to you? What are you so afraid of? How can he fix it? He’s needed you before he met you and now that he has- you’re not going anywhere, he’ll make sure of it <3

OMGOMG FIC IDEA IM GONNA BE OBSESSED UNTIL I WRITE THIS OUT HNNGGGG

[onceuponapuffin]

Fanatic Intervention Part 7!!!

Beginning|| Previous || Next

It will not surprise you at all, dear Reader, to learn that Aziraphale keeps very little in his kitchen cupboards. There is no stove or oven, and the only thing in the fridge is milk (for his tea no doubt). When you start opening cupboards, you find one pack of custard creams, and a second one of chocolate digestives. Well, it will have to do. You find yourself a small plate and fill it half and half before heading back into the shop just in time to say goodbye to Anathema and Newt.

As they leave, you turn to the supernatural entities in the room.

“So,” You say, “If we’re going to the States, then we have a few problems. First, I don’t have my passport or any ID at all, so airport security is going to be fun. Second, I have no money. Third, I’m gonna need a Walmart or something because I don’t even have a toothbrush, my dudes. Fourth, these,” You indicate the cookies, “are fine for a snack, but overall they’re not gonna cut it.”

“You just leave the airport security to us,” Aziraphale replies. You make a note that he glided right past ‘my dudes,’ they’re getting used to you already. Dammit. “As for the rest of it,” Aziraphale continues, “I suppose a trip to Tesco’s is in order.”

Crowley produces a shiny black credit card from nowhere and hands it to you. “We’ll take the Bentley,” he says. He starts to stand, but you shake your head.

“Nuh-uh, you both stay here,” You say. Crowley raises his eyebrow.

“You realize we can take care of ourselves,” he says, “We’ve been doing it for a few millennia.”

“I’m not talking about that,” You say, “Look, what we’re going into is really dangerous. And I know that your pattern is to just wait to talk about things until you’re in the clear, but that’s not a good idea anymore. I mean, I get that I’m not exactly an expert, but I read just as much as you do and I’ve heard a million stories by this point in my life, and in NONE of them do people ever say ‘I’m so glad I never told them how I feel’ - you know? It’s always ‘I wish I would have’ or ‘I should have told them every day.’ So Muriel and I will go ask Maggie to take us to Tesco, and you two need to talk. Please. While it’s safe, while you have the chance, before things get dangerous and possibly deadly.”

Crowley and Aziraphale are silent. You notice that they aren’t looking at each other. Well, you’ve done your best. Now you need to trust them.

At this point, dear Reader, you are probably thinking to yourself ‘well I would snoop and spy on them while they talk! I want to watch them make out!’ But here is the thing – in this world they are real people, not characters. It’s one thing to say that you would creep on them from the other side of this fiction, but when they’re very real and looking at you in person, things are a little different. For one thing, you realize that real people deserve things like boundaries and privacy, especially for sensitive conversations.

And so, you take Muriel over to Maggie’s shop, where you explain that Mr. Fell has sent the two of you on an errand and you need to stop for dinner somewhere and have no idea where anything is. You flash her the credit card and say ‘It’s all on me,’ and she conveniently agrees with a look on her face that says something like ‘least they could do after all that shit they put us through.’

So the three of you go for dinner at the nearest Weatherspoons, where you and Maggie eat while Muriel watches in morbid fascination. Then you all take the bus to Tesco where you buy yourself a small wardrobe, and manage to coax Muriel into some light blue jeans and an argyle jumper so they look a little less like the Beacon of Gondor. You quickly find out that Muriel has an adorable fascination with fuzzy socks, novelty mugs, and coloured pencils. Of course, you enable their fascinations with a happy heart, and as an afterthought, you grab them a small pot of orange daisies from the flower section. It will give them something alive to tend to while you’re gone. Muriel appreciates the thought. All in all, it’s a long but good time.

You don’t know about the talk, and you’re worried about asking when you get back.

THAT BEING SAID

You and I, dear Reader, not actually being in that world, are allowed certain privileges.

The bookshop is silent for a long time. Both of them are thinking, digesting, processing. Feelings are hard to feel, and harder to put into words. Especially when it has been made clear, twice now in the span of a number of hours, that you absolutely need to put them into words.

It isn’t until after Crowley notices you, Muriel, and Maggie heading down the street that he stands up and begins to pace. A few more minutes pass before he speaks.

“So...uhm...are you going to go first or should I?”

“Are we...are we actually going to do this? Have this talk I mean?” Aziraphale has been shelving books to try and take the edge off. Now he puts down the book in his hands and absent-mindedly fidgets with his ring.

“Well, I mean we don’t have to,” Crowley says, aiming for non-chalance and missing ever-so-slightly, “No one can actually make us.”

“Yes, except it feels very much like everyone is trying to.”

“Trying is the key word there.”

“That’s true enough I suppose.”

The silence returns and stretches. It is anything but comfortable. The air is full of words that they have been told they should say, words that perhaps they want to say, but words that have been dammed up with fear and uncertainty for so long now that they’ve become very hard to un-stick. After a while, Aziraphale clears his throat and speaks.

“I, erm, I suppose you had better go first.”

“Me, right, okay.” Crowley clears his throat now and stops his pacing near the desk. He looks down at the scattered papers and books, the pens and photos and newspaper clippings. The assorted clutter of Aziraphale’s life. Looking away makes it easier to start. He takes a breath. “Um..right...well...we’ve known each other a long time. We’ve been on this planet a long time – you and me, I mean. I’ve always been able to rely on you, and you’ve always relied on me,” another breath, “We’re a team, yeah? A group of the two of us. And...erm...we pretend that we aren’t. Always have. Safer that way I guess.” He looks up at Aziraphale. The angel isn’t looking at him, but he nods anyway to show that he’s listening. Crowley continues. “And I mean...I’ve tried not to think about it much before but...but it would be nice, I mean, UGH” He takes off his sunglasses and rubs a hand over his eyes as though he can massage the words and make them easier to say. “I mean, I would like to spend...mmm….I would like to spend the rest not pretending anymore. Be an us. I mean,” suddenly the dam breaks, and Crowley finds the words come tumbling out, “If Gabriel and Beelzebub can do it, we can. We don’t need Heaven or Hell, they’re both toxic. We can be an us, on our side. You and me. What do you say?” He looks at Aziraphale without reservation now. His angel looks back at him, eyes wide. When he does speak, it’s with a smile and a small nod of acknowledgment rather than agreement.

“That was very well done Crowley,” he says. This isn’t an answer.

“Nnyeah, thanks. Your turn though.”

“Right, I suppose it is.” Aziraphale takes a moment to gather himself. After hearing Crowley be so open about this, he feels more resolved himself to do this properly. He faces Crowley and folds his hands to keep himself grounded. “Crowley,” he begins, “I...I wish that this conversation were happening under better circumstances. Although it’s been pointed out that ideal circumstances aren’t a promise that we can wait around for. Well, the thing is that I would like the same thing. Very much in fact. My biggest concern by far is for your safety because, well, frankly I don’t see the point in saving the world again if you’re not around to enjoy it with me. An us, as you said. You and me.” He smiles. Crowley smiles.

“Guess we’d better save the world together then. And try not to die.”

“Yes, quite.”

“Aziraphale?”

“Yes, Crowley?”

“You’re my angel. No one else.”

“And you, my wiley serpent. No one else.”

The shop bell dings.

“We’re baaaaaack!” You sing as you waltz through the door, shopping bags in hand. Muriel follows after you, carefully carrying their daisies. “Did you miss us?”

When you eventually get the courage to ask them about their talk later, you get a “ngk” from Crowley, and a “We’ve said all that needs to be said, for now.” from Aziraphale. And that, you suppose, will have to do.

❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ 🖤

[stvenzz]

he smells like the sun.

that was your first thought about megumi fushiguro. it was surprising, considering his dark-colored clothes. you’d have thought he’d stink like a virgin nerd, but he smells like a warm sunny day. sitting next to him has made you realize how much you miss the days when you’d just drive off to the beach and sit there.

cramped in a small aula, you found yourself sitting closer to him than you’d thought. megumi doesn’t seem to care though, as your elbow keeps knocking against his. “-and of course, i’d like to remind you all that the campus winter ball is coming soon!” the dean says into the mic, and a flurry of groans follow. “it will be held in this very aula, with festive, non-alcoholic drinks! it will be a chance for you to bond with your classmates and get to know the faculty!”

“bond, like he boned one of the students last year.” you mutter to yourself.

that catches his attention. you smell like cinnamon. yes, yeah. like cinnamon rolls. megumi thinks, as he glances at you. he tries to think of why he hasn’t seen you around before - how he doesn’t recognize the cinnamon from your hair. you smile at your own joke, and he can’t help but smile a little too. not that it was funny, but because he thought you were funny. and alluring. and cinnamon scented.

“that’s it for today. i am hoping to see you all next week, alright?” the dean announces, but half of the crowd has already left to attend their morning classes. you start to pack up and leave, megumi does too. you think it’s the last you’ll ever smell sunshine indoors. he’s thinking of the cinnamon buns in the canteen.

the next time you see sunshine - yes, that’s the nickname you’ve come up for him - is during a dorm check. you see, you’ve been staying at a dormitory for a year with someone studying physics. nerds like that don’t usually stay too long in dormitories - they get too homesick and have to go back to their mamas or end up renting some other place less noisy or dirty. you’re kind of jealous, actually. the dorms are most of the time filthy with the smell of weed or tears.

“excuse me,” you hear a male voice chirp outside your room. “[y/n]?” groaning, you get up and fix your shirt. it’s supposed to be my off day. what the fuck is the nerd doing here- oh. there he was. in a pale blue button down and puffer jacket, stood megumi fushiguro - sunshine. “oh. it’s… hi.” he mutters, a light pink shade blushing his cheeks.

unbeknownst to you, megumi had been searching for traces of your cinnamon shampoo all over campus. “hey, do you… smell that cinnamon shit?” megumi would ask his friends, to where they’d laugh and shake their hands.

“you shouldn’t be smoking here.” he says, with a surprisingly confident manner.

you immediately become conscious of the small cigarette in between your index and middle finger, and you raise your eyebrows. “who are you?” you ask, pretending not to enjoy the warmth of his scent. “the new resident assistant.” he says, pointing to his clipboard. his eyes are deadpan, but inside, his heart is beating a mile a minute - he finally knows! you were his mystery cinnamon smell, as creepy as that sounds. “i meant your name, dingus.” you roll your eyes, taking a long drag of the cigarette. at that, his eyes seem to falter in surprise, but he shrugs. “shouldn’t matter. you know i could get you kicked out, right? just for smoking.”

the threat gets you thinking - why were you trying so hard to resist this nerd? “i’m almost finished. be patient, will you?” you smile sweetly, and it’s hard for him not to smile back. there’s an unspoken tension between you two, and it’s not the bad kind. in fact, you feel like you could almost read his emotions and his deadpan face. megumi’s eyes scan around your room, looking for anything he could report.

“well,” megumi scribbles down something on his clipboard. “it’s nice to meet you, [y/n].”

your heart starts beating funny — he didn’t report you for smoking. usually, you’d be more careful when smoking in the dorms, but this time, with your roommate gone and the absence of classes, you decided to just do it once, in your room. oddly enough, that’s the exact time the newly-appointed resident assistant, megumi fushiguro, arrived at your room, looking to check on the conditions of your place.

“you too.”

you put out your cigarette and settle with the fact that you may just never know sunshine’s name.

★☆ a/n: little blurb i wrote when i wuz in love with megumi.

[2-dsimp]

The Sniper is known to become aggressive especially when it concerns his darling

In fact Ossian’s one of the most possessive members of the hitman squad if not within the top 3. Even though he’s reserved and has trouble expressing himself outwardly he won’t hesitate to cut a bitch for his love. Not to mention that just the thought of having his darling be with someone other than himself.

Physically pains him to the point he’s dramatically crying fat tears of anguish, while laying sick in bed being all depressed. Whining at you pathetically, asking a stand alone picture of you over and over if having him alone really wasn’t enough for you. So the probability of him being poly with any other of the members would be close to zero.

Now the Hacker on the other hand is one of the chill ones in the squad where he wouldn’t have minded sharing you. If only he could have the most time with you since Yujin’s borderline obsessive and in constant need of love and affection. Basically consider him as a high maintenance cat who’d always paw at you to make sure you’re paying attention to him.

Now if there ever was a certain slim chance where they find themselves in a poly relationship together. All hell would break loose, because whenever the Sniper is paired with the Hacker his personality does a complete 180. Ossian’s general aloof personality turns bold as his newfound competitive personality shines through.

Generally speaking Yujin always gets on his nerves since he’d be the one instigating stuff trying to get a rise out of him like the cheeky piece of shit he is.

And since said Hacker apparently finds the Sniper’s reactions to be so amusing, he always makes sure to stress him out to the point where the Ossian is growling profanities at him aiming his sniper rifle to shoot him dead in the head. While he’s being held back by the confused Strategist who came out to complain what the ruckus was all about.

They’d be just like cats and dogs always trying to get the one up on each other when it comes to you.

~~~~~~~~~~~

“Fuck off you little shit they’re mine!”

-Sniper

“Lol cmon dude show some restraint. You’ve already been at it for so long that they’re already tired of your boring dick so move over and let me give ‘em something much more refreshing~”

-Hacker