#this space to make jokes and write and shit

[abouttofillhisshoes]

If you're too shy // pt.2 - Matty Healy

A/N: shit banner because i've fallen off xx. Anyway this was written whilst listening to the arctic monkeys debut which is absolute SHIT by the way 0/10 i'd rather listen to margaret thatcher's sex tape thanks.

wc: 4k

content warnings: literally nothing happens its a bit said, body writing, teasing, begging, sub!Matty being pathetic as per use, cliffhanger because the google doc told me to

They say feeling diminishes over time, sensations are lost to memories, forgotten. What Matty was experiencing couldn’t be further from the truth. Hazy daydreams inhabit his every waking thought, dreams only more and more vivid as time passed. Time didn't diminish the feeling of your hands on him, hot skin against his. It only intensified it, a certain sense of longing plaguing him. Longing for you. 

It’s an out of body experience, being in your presence. Your knowing glances when your eyes meet, an expression on your face only he can truly decipher. Matty dreams of you, so graphically that it leaves him panting in his bed, shaking hands running through unbrushed curls as he tries to collect himself, tries to push it down. 

But his hands cant help but wander, tracing over where you had touched him, goosebumps spreading onto his skin as the scene plays back in his mind. You, above him, forcing him down onto the floor. The way his knees ached at the harsh pressure of the linoleum floor. Your fingers dragging past his parted lips, pressing down onto his tongue, relishing in the sounds that escaped him. The small glimpse of your skin, the dark lace against your thigh a constant reminder of what could've been. What could still be. 

He doesn't know what you’re thinking, even if he yearns for your thoughts. You won't speak to him, you haven't since that day. It's painful, watching you live on like nothing had passed between the two of you, the only communication being a small, unassuming look, a brush of the hand. Nothing more, nothing less. 

This lesson is no different, loud chatter filling the space as the class gets into groups, working on some assignment. Matty sits on his desk, feet scuffing the seat of his chair as Ross gestures at his latest hookup, staring at him from across the room. You vaguely recognise her from a few of your other classes. She’s meek and quiet, bordering on pushover with the way she lets her friends walk all over her, but quite kind overall. 

His voice is loud, booming through the classroom as he laughs and jokes, refusing to pay any attention to the assignment despite the teacher's numerous attempts to get him to focus. His presence is altered in your eyes, different. The thing that had passed between the two of you can't be ignored just so, and you know he feels it too, his eyes boring a hole into the back of your head. It's when you unexpectedly turn around that his breath hitches, stuttering over a simple sentence. His little mistake going seemingly unnoticed, Ross keeps speaking, leaving Matty to stare at you, eyes darting all over your face, trying to read your expression. 

You remain neutral, raising your eyebrows at him in a sort of silent question. Matty cocks his head in turn, almost like a challenge, deep brown eyes narrowing slightly. The scrape of that chair against the floor is piercing, though no one around you pays it any mind. Bending over the desk, back facing him, a piece of paper is ripped out of your fairly expensive notebook, the scratch of pen against it oddly satisfying, your handwriting forming loopy, inky blue letters. Your fingers feel over the writing, the dips where your pen indented that simple message feel rough against your skin. 

People crowd the room, making it difficult to maneuver through it, bags hitting against your feet wherever you stepped. Muttering quiet excuses, your hand clutches the piece of paper, almost like it would disappear if it wasn't for your grip. Matty’s eyes follow you, intrigued, raking up your bare legs as you walk in his direction, staring him down.

To anyone else, nothing seems out of the ordinary in the way that you accidentally bump against the edge of the desk he’s sitting on, your right hand grabbing on to it for stability as you apologize to no one in particular. Only Matty sees the white, neatly folded note you had left right next to his hip, tucking it under a book you knew he never used. He shivers as your fingers make contact with his belt, something he wouldn't have even noticed if it wasn't your touch. 

The whole world slows down as he snatches it from under the textbook, unengaged enough in the conversation at this point that he could turn his body away from the group unnoticed, unfolding the note. His heart speeds up as he immediately recognises your handwriting, eyes over scanning the words. 

His body moves instinctively, getting up from his spot on the wooden desk, creaking slightly as a girl's voice asks where he’s going. 

“Bathroom.” he mutters under his breath, his vague answer raising a few suspicions. The group's attention is quickly turned to the teacher standing a few feet away, sternly telling them off. Matty manages to slip away. You disappear out the door just as he looks up from the note, his feet carrying him after you. 

6th period is always quiet, an atmosphere of calm falling over the school building as the light streamed in from the high windows, still  most of the corridor fairly dark. Blue lockers adorned the walls, dented and damaged from decades of use by previous generations of students. The echo of your shoes against the floor fill Mattys ears, the sound only adding to the anticipation already coursing through his veins. 

His mind races with jumbled thoughts, questions upon questions being asked. Where were you going? What were you going to do? 

No, what were you going to do to him? A shaky exhale from Matty is loud in the silence of the hall, his fists clenching and unclenching at his ideas as he walks after you, keeping a few paces behind. You don't even stop to glance over your shoulder, almost like you knew he would follow you, not a single doubt in your mind. Matty realizes this, and it only makes him even more desperate for you to just acknowledge him, a slight turn, a look, anything. 

The few moments you lead him feel like hours, your eyes darting past doors and full classrooms until you stop in your tracks, hearing the scuffle of Matty’s trainers as he stops behind you, unmoving. The door creaks as you twist the doorknob, an empty, darkened room greeting you. The air is cold, dust particles fly through it as you step inside, letting the door start to fall shut behind you. Matty runs in just as it's about to close, holding his palm flat against the wood, lips parting when his eyes finally land on you. 

The note is warm in his hand as he recalls what he had read on the page, three simple words sending him into a spiral of all-consuming emotions.

‘Don’t be obvious.’

No context was given, none was needed. Matty knew exactly what you meant.

“Why are you here?” his voice comes out shaky and unsteady, meek. Unlike him. He knows the question sounds stupid, evident in the smug grin that spreads onto your face as the door falls shut behind him. Finally facing him, you lean against a desk, arms reached behind you, holding you up. 

“Could ask the same for you.” you speak slowly, your inflection almost making you seem bored. Your hair occupies you as you twirl it around, eventually brushing it out of your face entirely. Matty takes a timid step forward, holding the now unfolded piece of paper up between two fingers, the ink now slightly smudged. 

“You left me a note.” “I know.” Your response is quick, direct. Matty’s eyes are glazed over, the sight oh-so familiar. 

Memories from that day rush through you, your body responding involuntarily. You can still feel his hands caressing your things, hiking your skirt up further, further, until he finally saw what he wanted. His mouth around your fingers, tongue lapping at your fingertips, eye contact remaining unbroken. The thought makes your head spin, a barely there blush creeping onto your cheeks.

“Why?” you tut at him, getting up and standing straight as he continues slowly walking over to you, his hair falling over his face in the same way it did when he was knelt in front of you, looking up with those adoring eyes of his.

“You didn't really listen to me, hm?” Matty perks up at your statement, slightly confused. You run a finger up his arm, feeling goosebumps erupt on his skin. He twitches, his whole body reacting to your touch. 

“I mean you weren't, were you? Not-obvious, I mean.” You watch as it finally clicks in his head. The note. 

‘Don't be obvious.’ 

He had tried to not be, his half-hearted attempts at keeping his distance proving rather difficult as instinct took over him, not caring what he was ‘supposed’ to do. 

You huff at his lack of response as he just stands there, looming above you. You aren't tall, not by a long shot, but somehow your difference in height doesn't play a role in the way he molds to your words, like putty in your hands. 

“What do you want?” you scoff in his face, rolling your eyes. Your nails graze against his upper arm before pulling away completely. Matty watches as you circle around him slowly, like a predator watching prey, your gaze making every survival instinct dissipate. 

“That's quite the loaded question, don't you think?” Matty nods in response, automatically. You watch him for a few moments as he lets the note drop to the floor. His breathing is unsteady as you get closer with every step, his body moving to keep facing you until his back hits the same wooden desk you had been leaning on. 

“Are you nervous?” Matty clears his throat before answering, caught off-guard by your sudden question. 

“What gives you that impression?”

You gesture downwards with your eyes, and he follows, growing red as he realizes what you meant. His untucked shirt is crumpled in his hands, fingers toying with the buttons as he mindlessly twists them around and ‘round, pulling at the fabric. 

“That.”

Matty ceases his movements, his hands now glued to his side as you eye him up and down. The top three buttons on his shirt are undone, revealing his collarbones and neck, skin smooth and milky as your first instinct is to reach out and touch him. 

“Do I make you nervous?” your voice cracks a bit towards the end, the illusion of calmness, of indifference, faltering. Matty just stares at you, his heart beating at a thousand miles an hour as you take a step closer, effectively pinning him against the desk. Now, he could easily push you away, putting distance between your bodies. But he doesn't. He doesn't want to. 

“Answer me.”

A beat of silence.  

“No, you don’t.”

You tut again, shaking your head in disappointment. Matty squirms under your touch as you trail your hand up his chest, popping a four button as you speak.  

“I never took you for a liar, Matthew.” The condescension coating your words makes his eyes widen, looking down at you with a wanton look on his face, silently begging. 

You reach down with your free hand, looping your fingers through his belt loops. Rather violently, you pull him towards you, pressing your bodies flush against each other. Matty’s reaction is delicious, a whimper spilling from his lips, the proximity making him hazy, wanting only one, single thing. 

“D’you want me to kiss you?” you coo, your faces dangerously close as you tease him, his curls threading through your fingers as he nods vigorously, absolutely shameless. 

“Please.” it’s high pitched, the word, only adding to the growing heat between your legs. Your knees feel weak as he reacts to you, eyes wide and rapidly blinking, darting from your lips back up to meet yours. 

“How do I know you’re not lying to me again?” it’s mean, you know it is, but you cant help yourself. His horrified expression only feeds into your taunts, a grin tugging at the corners of your mouth. You read him well, perfectly predicting the way you knew he was going to try to bring your lips together, impatient as ever. 

His attempt is futile, your tight grip in his hair pulling him back, the sharp pain making him cry out. 

“Ah, not so fast sweetheart.” his tongue darts out to wet his lips, not daring to move further. His breath hitches audibly as you skifully unbutton the rest of his shirt, his eyes never leaving your face even as you look down. 

“I thought you were going to be good for me, what happened?” you say, the dissatisfaction evident in your voice. Matty stutters out an apology, tripping over his words as the sensation of your hand against his chest becomes too much at once, too hot. 

He shudders as you feel him up, hand running through his hair to ground himself, hyper aware of the unlocked door of the classroom you’re currently in. His shirt fully unbuttoned, you take a small step back, eyes raking over his body, taking in the sight before you. 

“Don’t stop– please– I want you.”

“Then be still.” Matty nods in response, shifting around until he finally sits on top of the desk, feet dangling slightly off the edge. 

“So obedient now, what changed?” Your hands feeling around the pockets of your skirt, smiling when they come upon exactly what you were hoping to find. 

“I-” Matty cuts himself off, words getting caught in the base of his throat. His voice is low, raspy as he tries to answer, but your fluid movements distract him too much. 

“Go on, speak.” your tone is assertive, commanding even, only disorienting him more. Matty doesn't know what to feel, how to react. But what he does know is how to keep this from stopping. He doesn't ever want it to stop. 

“You’re so pretty.”

He knows he sounds pathetic, but it's all he can muster, every fiber of his being telling him to lunge forward, smash his lips against yours, feel you against him. 

“Well, sweetheart.” you giggle, pulling out a small object from the depths of your pockets, running your fingers over the cool metal. “Flattery gets you everywhere.” 

A sigh of relief leaves Matty as your hands make contact with his neck, the feeling of your touch driving him insane. He arches into you, his chest pressing against yours as you linger, a thousand fantasies rushing through both your minds. 

A high-pitched whine rips itself from Matty as your lips press against the hollow of his throat, biting into the skin harshly. Nipping at his neck, you relish in the noises he makes, his eyes screwing shut as you run your tongue over his collarbones, coating the skin in your spit. 

The small click of a lipstick tube uncapping is deafening, his eyes immediately snapping the source of the noise. You grin at his reaction, hands gripping the edge of the desk he was sitting on so hard, you could see his knuckles turning white. 

“What are you–” Matty starts, his body flushed the same shade of red as the product in your hand, complimenting it perfectly. 

You shush him quickly as he looks at you and then the lipstick, his bottom lip bitten raw. 

“I didn’t really know what this was at first, you know.” you speak, twisting the base of the lipstick, slowly revealing more and more of the ruby red. Matty’s full attention is on you, his chest moving up and down rapidly, trying to calm himself down. His watery eyes only spur you on, small pants leaving his lips as you resume your feather light touches, never giving him exactly what he wanted. 

“You’re so responsive, I barely have to touch you.” you watch as he writhes under you, still taller despite being sat down. It didn't make a difference, the power he so willingly handed over to you making it all disappear. 

“You’d let me do anything to you.” 

It isn't even a question but a statement, because you know, and so does Matty. Sweat glistens on his bare chest, reflecting the little light in the room, making him appear to be glowing. You don't know how long you’ve been in that classroom, and frankly, you couldn’t care less. 

“Please, I can't do this anymore. Fuckk– just touch me, properly, please.” 

His words lick pleasure up your spine and you let him beg more, a small, cruel part of you wanting to prolong this even further. Knowing you couldn't, and that your teacher was most definitely noticing your prolonged absence, you sigh loudly, cupping his face with one hand, a sickly sweet smile making Matty’s head spin. 

“If you even try moving, I’ll stop.” 

Matty expects you to put your hands on him, run them over his body, maybe make him kneel again. He expects you to finally kiss him, feel your tongue against his as you take over him completely, barely letting him breathe.

What he doesn't expect is for you to drop to your knees in front of him. 

The tip of the lipstick against his skin is cool, the product smearing over his stomach. Matty doesn't know how to react, his eyes peering down to get a clear glimpse of what you’re doing, not daring to move. He sees the distinct pattern of letters, the word you’re writing indiscernible from his angle. 

“Perfect.” 

You mutter as you watch the color glide over his skin, the contrast of red against it making your heart beat faster, hand shaking slightly. He can't control the small twitches of his body as you hold onto his thigh for stability, adding a small heart at the end of your little masterpiece. A single word. 

Pushing yourself off the floor, Matty tried to make out the writing on his body, failing miserably. Your phone is heavy in your hand as you swipe right, opening your camera app. He isn't paying attention to you at all, watching in awe how the red on his stomach beautifully stands out, running a finger over it lightly. 

“Smile.” you grin, his eyes snapping up to meet yours just in time for the camera to flash. 

He looks breathtaking, shirt unbuttoned, his hair messily falling into his face. The flash darkens the background behind him, making him the sole focus of the picture. You admire him for a few moments, a fond smile spreading onto your face. He looks utterly fucked out, despite your touches being barely-therea at best, it was enough.

It’s only then that you finally kiss him, hand wrapping around the base of his neck as you lick into his mouth, greedily drinking in his soft moans of surprise. Matty’s hands find your lower back, moving up and down your sides before finally settling onto your waist, gripping it tightly. 

The kiss is hot, desperate as Matty’s back arches, your other hand finding its place on his shoulder. The feeling of his hands on your waist shoots straight to your core, your thighs pressing together in an attempt to relieve some of that aching pressure. 

You’re first to pull away, lungs burning for air. Fingers raking through his hair, you take your phone back out, flashing the screen at him. His eyes widen at the image of him, the word you had painted onto him clearly visible. 

‘Sweetheart’ adorned the tensed muscles of his stomach, a small heart placed right after the word, your handwriting easily recognisable. Your fingers ghost over the writing, smudging the heart slightly, bringing it up to his lips. 

Matty parts them instinctively, letting you brush the color onto his bitten and bruised lips, faintly red. The sight makes you stop dead in your tracks, and you suck in a deep breath.

“I think you look gorgeous, don't you think?” you whisper into his ear, taking his earlobe between your teeth as you lightly bite down, greatly enjoying the choked gasp that leaves him. Matty is speechless, eyes glued to the screen now in his hands. 

“We’ve been gone an awfully long time,” you breathe, gesturing at the clock that hung above the rusty chalkboard at the front of the classroom. “Better get back.”

Matty grabs onto you in protest, almost letting your phone drop onto the floor. 

“Please, I can't–” you cut him off again, pressing a finger to his lips in a condescending manner, watching the look of hope vanish from his face. 

“School is actually rather important to me, I can't have my grades dropping.” your words sound oddly sincere as you toy with the bottom of Matty’s shirt, slowly doing up the buttons again. The red disappears behind the crisp black fabric, completely unnoticeable to anyone else but the two of you. Your little secret. 

Matty wants to argue, but he knows better than to contradict you, instead letting you fix him up. Your hands brush his hair out of his face, flushed an adorable shade of pink, making you smile. You even fix his collar for him, making sure it wasn't flipped up or open, your lingering fingers tracing his jawline tenderly.

“How else am I meant to tutor you if I don't know the material?”

Your words pierce through Matty’s thoughts, bringing him back down to earth. It wasn't just a statement, but a promise. Promise of more of whatever this was, a glimmer of hope returning to him. He wanted this more than fucking anything, even if your constant, deliberate, teasing drove him mad.

“Come to mine on Wednesday, i’ll show you how to do the assignment.” The way you speak is so casual, so normal, like nothing had just happened. Matty wonders if it had all been a weird, messed up daydream, but the phone in his hand proved him wrong. He hands the phone to you timidly, not wanting to let go of that moment. 

Straightening out your own clothes, you take it from him, tucking it away in your pocket. Matty wants to reach out, touch you, feel you again. He stops himself, your back now turned as you walk away, hand resting on the doorknob.

You glance over your shoulder before you open the door, shooting him a tantalizing grin.

“Don’t miss me too much, sweetheart.'' 

The pet name does something to him he can't describe, a floaty, disorienting cloud falling over his thoughts. Matty’s blush returns, his face hot. 

Wednesday. He keeps repeating the sentence in his mind.

‘Don't miss me too much, sweetheart’ 

How cant, not when you leave him like this, desperate and wanting nothing more than any little bit you’d give him, every touch like pure ecstasy. 

Five days. 

Five incredibly long days. 

One hundred and twenty hours until he finally sees the inside of your bedroom, until youre finally, finally alone. 

Matty lets his fingers trace the word over the material of his shirt, heart pounding in his chest. The shrill ring of the bell is muted as he replays the scene in his mind, over and over again. Your hand on his thigh, kneeling in front of him. The lipstick against his skin, the bright flash of your phone. 

Wednesday can't come any faster, but he still wishes it would.   

[areweevercameraready]

fitting that my post announcing that i was going to come back to this in scattered and disorganized ways was accidentally posted to the wrong fucking blog

[compacflt]

Sorry for the ridiculous ask (really it's unforgivable), but:

Iceman went to NYC to see A Chorus Line in '87.

2. Confirmed watched Sound of Music with Carole for her birthday.

Am I connecting any dots here and did Ice have to go to Hamilton as a publicity stunt in the last year of the Obama presidency?

oh no anon im being very intentional with my ice-musical-theatre links. its easy lazy writing shorthand for him being gay lol. even if he isn’t actively seeing shows he does put the tonys on in the background every year just bc he likes the color and dancing

he’s not a fan of rap and he doesn’t like how Hamilton bastardized american history for its own political aims thereby convincing multiple generations of laymen of factoids that simply aren’t true (Hamilton was strictly speaking not an immigrant & could only extremely loosely be called an abolitionist of any stripe) but he’s also a milquetoast liberal so he says he likes it for clout but he’s also a military flag officer so no one is really expecting him to go see Hamilton for publicity purposes so idk

the pentagon circa 2016:

[chrollohearttags]

went back on that hellscape of an app FKA Twitter for two minutes and it’s a bunch of creators having meltdowns bc somebody criticized their lil convention they went to. Like meat riding a con is insane behavior as is but getting mad bc somebody made a valid point in the fact that there was organization for an event that made millions is insane. They got 22K people piled into a building, no schedules just vibes and no order and you’re mad at the ATTENDEE? wild. Not to mention every two scrolls is some bigoted ass take. I can’t be vexed.

[todayisafridaynight]

next stream you should read us bad rgg fics i agree

we're ADULTS now anon ok we don't say 'bad rgg fics' we say 'fics that don't fit our typical niche'

anyway first person to find me an rgg x mlp fic we read it on stream

[boy-armageddon]

also quick note re: my previous post's tags. have i said before that, for a presumably heterosexual man, johnny whitney has had some of the most insanely homophobic (and occasionally transphobic) vitriol spewed at him for one reason or another ive seen. because holy shit

[inkskinned]

okay if you're really cool about things, i can be honest with you. before you read further, decide if you're a girl's girl. if you're cool and actually cool or like not cool.

men don't talk in my book because i was fuckken tired of the way they're the center of every fucking story. i was tired of how every story takes a moment to let them talk. men can shut up for literally one fucking book.

unfortunately not everyone is cool. professionally what i usually say is i didn't want to add violence to the world. the only men in my book are abusers, so they don't get to talk. they don't get to take up space. they ruined my life, they don't get to have their words echo anymore.

because like, yeah! you find practically any story about a person surviving trauma and... there's a man at the center. men are often rescuing us from these things. a "good man" is always standing around, being a good man, proving to the victim that good men are the real men. that her experience was unique rather than universal.

the redacted text has not been taken well by all of my early readers. there is this weird, crouching growl that keeps occurring with men-of-a-certain-age. why don't we hear his side of the story?

when i sat down to write everything that happened to me, i couldn't look at the frank brutality of my abuser's words on a page and think to myself: i actually let him speak like that. i had to redact his words from the manuscript. i then left it redacted. no victim is going to read this book and hear the person who hurt them. it is a book for the victims to speak. abusers shut up challenge, forever. for eternity.

my father once told me, chuckling, i should just have a page of redaction where i let the man just finally talk. it is funny to joke about how we should make a whole page in my book about a man that hurt me. this was not the only time someone commented - it feels like you're hiding things. how do i know you're actually a victim if he doesn't get to speak?

there are books where women aren't even present. i even genuinely like some of those books. like, who doesn't like the hobbit?

i keep running into people defending this imaginary man. the default narrative is so true to some people that they will defend any man, just by virtue of the assumption - "if he's acting like that, you had to push him." certain people need definitive proof that you didn't accidentally make your partner into an abuser. they need to decide if you deserved it, because they want to be able to judge you.

which makes sense, i guess, from a hind brain perspective. if you can figure out "why" someone was cruel, you can protect yourself against it. if you defend the bully, the bully might side with you. i don't really know their explanation for feeling this about a character in a book. trust me, i wrote the guy. he is not going to protect you.

i guess i just - there was a time in my life where i desperately wanted anyone to defend me. where i could have really used someone saying holy shit are you okay instead of what did you say to make him act like that to you.

instead, over dinner, a friend-of-a-friend i just met is pouring herself wine. i heard you wrote a book, she says. she gives me the kind of chilly smile i associate with knives. i heard it's unfair to men.

[thisgodwontforgiveyou]

i think its just a very stupid game to exist like it has really no point at all other than there being a paradox game thats in space. thankfully its more fun than any other game theyve made besides maybe eu4 so at least its like succeeding at being a dumb toy to fuck around with

[luveline]

that spencer x bombshell one you just posted has me giggling and kicking my feet I think I’m in love with YOU 🫵

Now I’m thinking of spencer x bombshell where the team starts to not view reid as unwillingly tortured by her flirting. Like maybe Morgan makes a comment to reid about something he does and is like “don’t torture the poor girl” and he’s like oh shit I’M the one torturing too now?

im in love with YOU !! for you, ty for requesting ♡ fem

“Difficult,” you say, resting your head on the table. 

“I know.” Spencer wiggles his pen back and forth between two fingers, thinking hard. This case is proving to be indecipherable. None of the details want to add up, and no clear profile geographical or otherwise appears. 

“Useless.” 

“Who, me or you?” 

“Us.” You sigh morosely. “Mostly me.” 

You're not being serious. Spencer huffs a soft laugh and continues to turn the details over in his head. You open your notebook and scratch down a couple of sentences with a pen, a visual thinker. Your mind map turns to a second iteration and then a third. You can't connect the dots because they're too far apart from each other; Spencer can't do it either. Not alone. 

He scoots his chair as close to yours as possible, your knees touching, his elbow in your side. “Can I look?” he asks. 

“Of course you can. Sorry about my handwriting.” 

He shakes his head. Your handwriting is perhaps the only thing about you he wouldn't say was one hundred percent perfect. You can't control it like other things. It is perfect, in a way, because it's yours, but you've been writing quickly and he struggles to make out the occasional letter. 

He leans in toward the page. “What's this word?” he asks. 

You lean in to see it. “Coruscated.” 

“The swimming pool?” he asks, lifting his face to yours. You're closer now, and beautiful like this. He can see the powder under your eyes, the lines in your irises, the slight fading of your lipstick at the corners of your mouth. There's an eyelash on your cheek. He lifts a hand to wipe it away. “What's so important about that?” 

“It reminded me of something…” You pause as he touches your face. “Something…” Your voice lilts up in question, half-shudder. 

“Eyelash,” he explains, blowing it off of his finger. 

“Right,” you say, eyes oddly wide and soft at once, your eyebrows lifted at the starts. 

“You okay?” 

“Is she okay? Reid, you're torturing the poor girl. Give her some air,” Morgan says with a chuckle. 

Spencer leans backwards in surprise, no idea what Morgan could possibly mean. Your eyes relax as you regain some personal space, your hands coming together loosely in your lap. You laugh weakly. 

Spencer looks you up and down. He's torturing you? That doesn't make sense. For as long as you've known one another, the team has joked that your flirty ways and feminine wiles are too much for Spencer to handle. You once gave him an apology he didn't want, worried you actually were hurting him by being your playful self, and he'd set that straight immediately. You don't torture him. It's a lot of feelings to be doted on so much by you, and painful isn't one of them. Overwhelming, sometimes, and exciting, sure. 

He never realised he had the power to overwhelm you. Not until that moment. You offer a funny smile far from your usual smirk and try to steamroll Morgan's claim. “Guess I should've made a wish.” 

“What would you wish for?” Spencer asks quietly. 

You still. Morgan shakes his head in disapproval, but he laughs again and stands up. “I think they'd call that a taste of your own medicine, sweetheart,” he says to you. 

You meet Spencer's eye. “I think they would,” you say bashfully. 

For three blissful seconds, Spencer enjoys the reality of having made you flustered. You, gorgeous, confident you, left flushed and a little daunted by his casual actions and simple (maybe slightly flirtatious) questioning. But then he remembers how much he likes you and pushes it away. 

“Sorry,” he says, plastering a smile over uncertain lips, “I didn't mean to do that.” 

“No, it's okay.” 

He turns to your notes, but gives you a look from the side. “I hope you wished for someone to solve the case. We're never getting anywhere like this.” 

“Are you saying you can't?” You rest your chin in your hand. “And here I thought you were more than a pretty face.” 

You have a quick recovery rate, evidently. 

[i23kazu]

♡ GENSHIN MEN & STUDYING WITH YOU

characters. xiao diluc kaeya childe wriothesley lyney alhaitham x gn!reader genre. romantic fluff. an. i need motivation. they are my motivation | please reblog!! im getting back into writing and reblogs with tags and comments will make me want to write more :D

xiao

he's the one who's a all the noise-cancellation, blacklisted apps kind of student. everything is on lockdown and on do not disturb mode – please don't disturb him. poke him with your pen and you'll just see him roll his eyes at you– no, seriously- it's not worth it! however, xiao is also a really good student ; always on task, even on the subjects that he absolutely despises. ask him to tutor you and he might grumble and groan, but what happens when the tutor falls in love with his student?

diluc

possibly the class rep. studying with him is a express ticket to resources that teachers had given him because of his high-class status. he's not proud of it – he believes that each student deserves the chance to have the same access as him – which is why he's willing to share it with you as well. we didn't even have to meet up, you could just have sent it over- you whine, but the tinge of crimson on his cheeks is a telltale sign that perhaps he needed- no, wanted, this excuse.

kaeya

the teasy study buddy. watch him annoy the hell out of you– you know he's teasing, but sometimes it hurts. "haha, i thought i taught you this already? does the little bunny not have enough space in there?" he taps your head with his pen. it's only when your face crumples and you start to mumble out apologies, teardrops cockling your paper – that he panics. "shit- i'm sorry– how can i make it better?" he wipes your tears away. he makes it up with a sweet kiss and a stack of gift cards to your favourite cafes.

childe

he's the friend who keeps you going, truly. if sunshine was bottled up and wrapped with a bow and had an orange cap, it would be childe! watching your face fall after staring at algebra simply won't do, no, no. let him lead you as he tugs on your hands outside of the study room, and just let your feet follow in his footsteps – you'll find yourself outside the library cafe. "alright, it's on me! what do you want?" maybe his wallet is a little lighter, but so is his heart, once he sees your face light up.

wriothesley

wriothesley is the one who has it all planned out. first, you'll start studying at 10pm... which is a little late, but it's alright. you'll get tired around midnight, which will be when he offers you the first cup of chamomile. "won't this put me to sleep?" you whine, accepting it from him anyways. he chuckles and runs his hands through your hair, replying that it's never worked on him. true enough, you start getting sleepy around half past one – finally leaning against his shoulder, your arms going slack. kissing your head, he drapes a blanket around you. good night, (y/n).

lyney

the one who sits besides you, cracking jokes every now and then! but when it's time to study, he can buckle down and start doing work –that's just lyney – the human on and off switch. there's something about him doing work while twirling his poker cards in his hands that's just so mesmerising – a stare too long catches his eye, and he starts doing a trick for you. get back to work!, you laugh and playfully swat his shoulder, turning back to your own paper. he chuckles in return, and unbeknownst to you, turns back with a smile.

alhaitham

alhaitham can be stricter as a study buddy – he's stern with distractions, wanting you to keep your phone to the side as he's explaining concepts – yes, concepts you learnt, but never understood. "hey, eyes here. did you understand, or do i need to go through it again?" he sounds bored, and you feel sorry for him. you mumble a soft i understand back, and he sighs and tells you to take a break. "look up." your eyes trail up from your phone, and instinctively close as he presses a sweet kiss to your forehead.

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reblogs w/ tags & comments help me lots !!! if you liked this, consider dropping me a follow as well :-)

[lingeriae]

Heyyyyy I love your writing so much!!!! Plus your theme is so nice!! It looks amazing 🫶🏾

Connie & Ony with partners that wear glasses? Can it include NSFW as well?

omg, I loveeee thissss

ONY

- man I just know ony would be a straight up menanceee

- like, we all know onyankopon is sassy as fuck, so everytime you try to catch an attitude or have something smart to say to him, he looks you up and down throuhg his side-eye and mumbles

"aint about to argue with someone who needs goggles to see, girl bye."

or or or

"bad eyesight or bad attitude, pick a struggle."

- I just know he makes you soooo mad, like mad would be an understatement for reallll.

- Jokes aside, I feel like ony would be very very gentle with your glasses, shit he would care about them more than you. Always telling you to clean them, or putting them in a safe space whenever you fall asleep with them on or leave them out somewhere.

- He'd love you wearing em, without you wearing them too, but he'd love when you were them because of how cutely it frames your face and because you don't have to be hurting your pretty eyes just to see

...speaking of seeing

NSFW

- Ony literally gets so heated if you take off your glasses while your fucking cause when he's fucking you he wants you to see every nasty shit he be doing to that pussy.

- Fixes your glasses if they end up lopsided while he's drilling your shit, like it don't matter how into it he is or how close he is, he will stop and fix that shit. ARGUE WITH YOUR MOMMY!

- he lovessss when you have that shit on while giving him a blowjob, loves how messy your glasses gets when he releases all over them.

- if you cuss him about this, he'll just kiss you on your pretty mouf and tell you that he'll clean em.

CONNIE

omg

- please don't get me started on this.

- bro connie is so fucking annoyingggggg. Like I just know you be having to havea back-up glasses because of him.

- he be dragging that shit right the fuck off your face if yall get in an arguement or if yall are play fighting. asking you some shit like

"oh, cause I thought a visually impaired bitch said sum."

"you acting too bad like I can't control your vision."

"don't be raising your four-eyes head ass at me, ill make sure you stay blind keep playing."

- and he be thinking that shit is sooo funny, like it's not bro grow up.

- it's so funny cause it's the complete opposite when yall are getting jiggy with it

NSFW

- firm believer that connie gently takes off your glasses during sex, im standing on my ground on this.

- I mean pausing mid make-out just to slide that shit off your face, making extra sure to fold the arms before placing them somewhere safe.

where was this energy when we were fighting sir??

- and after he takes them off, he kisses your eyes gently before fucking you into any near surface.

- like I just have a feeling broooo

[rafesslxt]

slytherin boy‘s | how they get turned on

headcanon - this is my opinion, you do not have to agree with what i write

contains: mattheo riddle, theodore nott, draco malfoy, enzo bershire

— Mattheo Riddle —

everywhere and any time!! The list is long!

when you two are in class and you start concentrating so you slightly chew on the end of your pencil

when you smile and laugh - he would be so happy when you are carefree

when you wear his favorite color. Underwear or normal clothes, it doesnt matter. It makes you look so good in his eyes that he just wants to rip them off

when you get mad - damn, espacially when you talk in your native language

when you wouldn‘t talk to him so he would try and apologize while slowly kissing up and down your neck and shoulders

when you sat on his lap when no seats would be available. You all sat down in the train to hogwarts and as your friends saw that there was no space for you they started to scoop togethet but you would just let your ass fall down on mattheo‘s lap, smiling innocently at him

when you got turned on somehow while the two of you would stand seperated at a party, talking to your friends and he could see your desperate gaze at him

when you got drunk – he would never do anything with you under the influence but still he would get turned on on your loose tounge and words plus your touchy hands

when you do something sexy but smile innocently. Like you would bend over in class when he sat behind you, picking something up and then look over your shoulder back to him, smiling. Or you would make a ponytail, taking your time with it and again – smiling at him innocently, reminding him of how you got ready before –

when you got jealous. It wasn‘t just the fact that you got mad and that alone already turned him on, but he felt how much he meant to you and that he‘s important to you making him go even more ferral

when you took control – he was alway used to do things on his own, being tense all the time so when you did he felt so under your control it turned him on – especially in the bedroom

when you got into a fight with someone talking shit about him being the son of voldemort so you would come back with a bloody nose knocking on his door – just the tought of you hitting someone for him

— Theodore Nott —

when you talked to him a lot or read to him so he could stare at your soft plump lips moving

when you‘d come back from some sort of training, all sort of sweaty, out of breath and red face - got him going crazy

when you corrected him. The two of you would study together and after already staring at your lips he would raise his eyebrows at you correcting him. "oh so you‘re all smart and all shit now yeah? Let‘s see what you can use your smart mouth else for."

you touching him softly so he would get goosebumps all over his body

when you wear his clothes – especially after waking up and you just wearing his way too big shirts with only underwear under it but also when you would wear his hoodies on the weekends so everyone could see you‘re his

— Draco Malfoy —

when you wear his initials on a necklace he bought you or on your ring so everyone could see you belong to him

when you are confident in your own skin, chin always up. Showing everyone not to mess with you – he would be so proud too

when you would whisper gossip in his ear but not because of the gossip but because of the whispering and your hot breath on his ear

he always felt touch starved even If he‘s not so any kind of touching him would turn him on. Even something like you two laughing and joking and you touching his arm

— Enzo Berkshire —

to me he is the most shy of the group I‘m sorry ya‘ll i know there is a lot discussion about it

when he hears you ask him If you can be on top, riding him. His breathing would get heavier at the tought

generally when you are more dom and he‘s more sub – it would turn him on so much seeing you in control of hin

when you get touchy in front of his friends on a night out, party or just a little gathering – his cheeks would flame up so badly but at the same time it feels like a forbidden fruit to him in front of people

when you massage his scalp – he would get goosebumps all over his body and bite his lip while trying to control himself – failing of course

when you come back from some kind of training too like Theodore but also If he watches you and hears you groan in frustration – voice kink

when you kiss him – yes, so that‘s often. And no matter where you two are also.. in class, with his friends, his or your family

when you do things like grabbing his shirt to pull him in to kiss him, whispering and nibbling his ear, getting him flustered on porpuse with saying dirty things in his ear while friends are around

but also If you let him take completly control of you all tied up giving you to him

thanks for reading 🫶🏻

xoxo sarah <3

[trashmouth-richie]

Eddie x Fem! Reader [vol ii]

Summary: you were desperate for a roommate after Nancy got married and moved out. An ad in the paper goes unanswered until someone comes knocking on the door.

W.C 3.8k

Trigger warning: enemies to lovers trope, eventual smut, language, crude behavior, Eddie is a fucking menace 🖤 this will be a series 💋

{a/n} I probably should have added this when I originally posted it. But I’m a little dumb— anyway, this is my submission for @newlips ’s milestone of love hope you all enjoy it 💋 I truly enjoy writing and I wouldn’t be here without the support you all as readers/ fellow writers bring to me every single day! Thank you all from the bottom of my heart ♥️

He wasn’t your first option for a roommate, in fact he was so far off your radar for a potential housemate, you damn near shrieked when you saw him. But when nobody had showed up besides him to view the small two bedroom house that you were forced to sublease after your roommate got married— you didn’t have a fucking choice. It was too expensive to run another ad in the Hawkins Post and summer was coming to a close. You were fucked.

“You’re fucking kidding me,” you snarl as you throw open the door to see his stupid grin. Always too toothy, too goddamn endearing. Made your stomach bind up. “No, no way.”

Standing in all his sadistic leather glory was Eddie fucking Munson. He’s taller than he used to be, still a long haired asshole, reeking of weed and cheap deodorant. What kind of sick twisted joke is this? Did you really piss off mother karma that bad that you have to live in a separate, more fucked up layer of hell? Fuck you Dante, and your inferno. There’s not a single other person in this town who needs somewhere to stay?!

He pushes his way into your home, leaning forward with a shit eating grin, eyes hooded and winking as your lips curl in disgust. “Nice to see you too sweetheart.” He taunted. Licking his lips as he stalked past you, his filthy work boots tracking dirt onto the carpet.

“Yuck — do not— call me that,” you hissed, you stand with your hand still on the knob, not fully committing to wanting to shut the door— praying that he was some sort of a hallucination.

“You gonna show me around, or should I raid your panty drawer while you sulk?” A dimple dips into his cheeks as his stupid grin grows wider on his face.

You slam the door with a thud, “kitchen, living room, my bedroom, the other bedroom, bathroom, garage, laundry in the basement.” You’re practically shouting, as you stomp around the small space, pointing to the direction of each room, taking a grand total of twenty seconds to point everything out, not giving a fat rats ass if he was following you or not. His laugh echoes off the walls, taunting you, making your skin crawl and your ears itch. You turn around to find him quick on your heels, your face almost smashing into his grease covered work shirt.

He doesn’t move, or make any attempt to step away from you, forcing you to put the space between you both, stepping back and smoothing down your hair. His eyes kill to yours, dark swirls of muddy browns searching your own, he asks, “Why do you get the bigger room?”

The fucking audacity of this man. You could wring his neck right now and nobody would even know.

“Excuse me?” You question, peering into his chocolate eyes, waving a finger in his face, “maybe because It’s my fucking house, you’re lucky if you’ll get a room at all.”

He leans his head back with a laugh, letting it slam forward as he deadpans, creeping forward and stepping around you, waiting til he’s behind you to whisper in your ear, “I’m lucky? That ad was in the paper for over a week,” he seethes, “I bet I’m the only one who showed up to view the place, so nice try, Tooty— but you’re desperate for the cash.” He wasn’t wrong, you were desperate, the salon paid okay but Josie just upped the price on your rental chair, making your mortgage almost impossible for you to pay on your own.

“…I’m doing you a favor. So, if you want me to pay rent and utilities, then I’ll, so graciously, be taking the bigger room.” His breath fans across the back of your neck, making the hairs stand up, and goosebumps riddle your skin. You turn to face him, hands on your hips trying to show how serious you are.

“I know it took you like four times longer to graduate than anyone in United States history, but you can’t possibly be this damn dumb.” It was a cheap shot and you know it, but who does he think he is? Barging in here with demands like a fucking A list celebrity. Not today, mother fucker.

A comment that would have normally made anyone else burst into tears, or at least leave hollering ‘bitch!’ as they stomped out to their car, only fuels Eddie’s perverted fire, “Ooo, an insult and a scolding, what’s next a spankin’?”

Your hard-ass facade drops, your face faltering to one of disgust instead of stern, don’t-fuck-with-me, boss lady, “Get out, Munson.”

“Nah, I think I’ll stay.” He saunters towards the kitchen table and pulls out his wallet, of course its a chain wallet, you roll your eyes as he starts forking over an impressive amount of bills and sets them down, one by one.

“Here’s my first month, last month and deposit.”

The total is way more than what you’d even told him but you're still tongue tied from his comments, he lives for this shit and you had fallen for it—rookie mistake.

“I’ll be back in a few hours to start moving stuff in.” He smiles widely, moving towards the door, “See you then, roomie.”

His figure haunts you for the next few hours you have left of peace. His smell lingers around the house, you shove open every window you can, including the one that was painted shut by the previous owners. He was so fucking annoying. Is that supposed to be charm he was throwing at you? Fucking barf. The only thing you were feeling was rage, and that you needed to shower after feeling his breath on your skin. Lighting every scented candle you can find, Sugar cookie and beach sands will do— the smell slowly wafts out of the windows. You shower quickly, figuring better do it now than after he arrives, the dreaded walk in a towel from the bathroom to your room was something you hadn’t thought of until this second. Hot water sprays against your skin, assaultingly hot, almost blistering the skin on your back.

You are seething, raging mad. If you were a cartoon, smoke would be funneling out of your ears. Mocking him, you think of better comebacks than you had thought up earlier. Scrubbing your skin until you resembled a lobster, and angrily scratching your scalp. “What’s next a spankin?” GOD he’s so nasty, the sheer nerve of him makes you want to throw a toaster into the shower with you. Nothing a few volts can’t fix. You towel off, looking at your reflection in the mirror as you wipe away the condensation. The stress of the day slowly melted off as it was rinsed down the drain.

You’re applying your eye cream when a—loud as fuck— knock on the door shakes the walls.

“Honey, I’m home!” Eddie hollers as you peek through the glass. He’s carrying a duffle bag and a 30 pack of Busch Light. 3 smiling idiots are behind him, two passing a joint back and forth while balancing a very worn mattress, the other swaying on the sidewalk holding a guitar, most likely already drunk.

Tucking the tail end of the towel wrapped around your head into itself, you fling open the door, “Jesus Christ Eddie, will you shut up! I have neighbors you know!”

“Oooo— first fight!” One of the idiots with shaggy blonde hair preens.

Your glare could compete with lasers against his skin, prying through his epidermis and burning the vessels.

Eddie lets out a laugh, “aww sweetheart, I didn’t know you were planning a slumber party!” he says gesturing to your towel and pink robe. “Give me about 30 minutes and I’ll be braiding your hair and you can paint my nails, give me all the hot gossip!”

You turn with a huff half closing the door behind you. The gaggle of idiots roaring with laughter at Eddie’s joke.

He pushes through the door into the house, tossing his bag onto the table, knocking over the napkin holder and the stack of mail, letting out a loud sigh. He rips the thirty pack open on the side, making the beers crash to the floor. You still your eyes and cross your arms, unamused by his stupid antics. He cracks one open, slurping up the spray of suds as it puddles around his hand and down onto the carpet. He kicks a beer towards you and raises his up in triumph. “Here’s to you roomie, Home Sweet Home!”

You’re so fucked.

-

“Robin, I’m seriously going to kill him. I don’t care if I have to go to jail—anything would be better than this!” you whisper-yell into the phone, you watched Eddie and his band of misfits bring in box after box, most of his stuff was in black plastic garbage bags. They formed a line throwing the bags to one another and the last one haphazardly tossing them into his room.

“Oh relax! A hunk like him moving in and you don’t even have to pay him? You just hit the jackpot!” She giggles on the other end of the phone, smacking through her licorice.

“More like jackass with all the shit he’s moving in.”

You’re hunkered in your room, between the wall and your bed, twirling your bedroom phone cord through your fingers, “Seriously the place smells like weed so bad I’m probably getting a contact high as we speak.”

Robin lets out a throaty laugh, “Might do you some good, you’re so fucking tense all the time.”

“Sorry—” you say, twiddling the blue carpet fibers through your fingers, “I’m just stressed after Nancy moved out is all.” It wasn’t a lie, Nancy moving in was a huge relief to you, she took care of almost everything. Organizing bills, scheduling pest control when needed, she even wrote the garbage pick up days and hung it on the garage door. With her gone, this all falls on you. “What if he steals my stuff in the middle of the night and bails?”

She curses your full name, “He may be a lot of things, but a thief is not one of them—seriously you have nothing to worry about, calm your boobies!”

“Boobies!” Steve yells, joining the room Robin was in, “it’s Eddie, he’s a total nerd, you’ll be fine.”

“If he’s so great Then you can live with him Steve!”

“Nope, no can do,” he says around a mouthful of food,

“I gotta keep this clumsy oaf on a short chain”

“Oh, you’re dead Harrington.” The phone drops and all you hear is squealing and thudding of feet running around.

“Robin! Not my shampoo! ”

“Steve? Robin?” You wait in silence as the line goes dead, “Uhh!” Slamming the phone into the receiver you hear Eddie and his leather clad Barbarians holler goodbye to one another. One too many “see ya later man” ’s and you’re practically puking. You open the door to your room and poke your head out. Watching closely as Eddie tears through garbage bags, unloading heaps and heaps of clothing, an entire bag dedicated to just band shirts, another revealed bedding that was quite literally rolled up and thrown into the bag. A quick sniff test has him turning up his nose.

The kitchen is taken over by Eddie’s stuff, more bags, more boxes, a cookbook titled: The Dungeonmeister Cookbook is sitting on the stove. A stack of Burger King collectible Disney cups is cluttered around the microwave. Along with an impressive amount of neon twisty straws and a bowl with a straw connected to drink the milk.

It’s like a small child moved into your home instead of a grown ass man.

Opening the fridge to get an apple, you can’t help but notice Eddie also moved some refrigerator items with him as well. Two big bottles of hot sauce, more beer than the local bar probably holds, a half drank carton of orange juice, and a giant jar of pickles, without a lid. Huffing with annoyance you step over Eddie’s bags of shit and get a knife from the drawer to slice the apple. The loud shrill screeching of 80’s metal almost makes you cut your finger. Stomping into Eddie’s room with your fuzzy slippers you don’t bother on knocking before you look for the plug to his cassette player, unhooking it from the outlet and pointing the knife in his direction, you all but scream in his face, “I almost cut my fucking finger off! Turn it down or I’ll cut the goddamn cord!”

He’s sitting crossed legged on the floor, cassettes littering his lap, his eyes almost bored, “aww Tooty I’ll play with you in a little bit, daddy just has to get some things done first, ‘kay?”

You roll your eyes in disgust, did he seriously just refer to himself as ‘daddy’?

“God you are foul,” you retort, throwing the cord down onto the carpet and placing the knife on a nearby box, “wouldn’t surprise me if you were a dad.”

Eddie throws his head back with a chuckle, “why? You into dad bods? Listen sweetheart, my metabolism will slow down eventually, gimme three—four years max and I’ll be all gut.” He flashes his pearly whites towards you and winks.

Ignoring him completely, your nose scrunches. “Stop calling me that!” your heart is pounding in your chest fury on high, “what the hell is that?”

“That,” Eddie says batting his eyelashes, “would be my masculinity wafting from my aura to yours, why does it turn you on?”

You fold your arms over your chest, and shift your slippered feet beneath you, “Do you have a certain amount of disgusting phrases you have to get out throughout the day or are you just naturally this nauseating to be around?”

“No idea, anyway,” Eddie continues, standing to his full height and shucking off his jacket and tossing it to the ground, “I’m gonna order a pizza you want in?”

“Maybe you should finish unpacking,” you say taking a quick glance around the clothes strewn everywhere around the room, “it’s a fucking mess in here.”

Eddie leans in close eyes ghosting over your features as they gawk over your lips, “well, sweetheart, maybe if you had given me the bigger room— like I had asked for— I would have enough space to put my stuff, besides,” he says, standing up and leaning backwards to crack his back, a small trail of hair peeking out from his waistband makes your breath hitch in your throat, “I bought dressers and they’ll be delivered on Monday, so my clothes don’t have a place to go right now, unless you wanna split your closet?”

“I’d rather drop dead.”

“Aww don’t do that, far too pretty to be dead, and what would the neighbors think?” He strips off his shirt and throws it in the corner of his room, your eyes dart away but not before catching a glimpse of his pale skin.

The small tattoos he had in high school are slightly faded with time, new ones are inked down his arms, across his chest and down his side. You can’t help but notice the silver hoops pierced through his nipples as they reflect light and draw you in towards his chest. He’s lean but built, no defining abs but the muscles in his arms could be carved from a sculptor, replicating a greek statue. Surely minutes have gone by but in reality it has only been seconds, you don’t even realize he’s still talking.

“…don’t need to give the cops more of a reason to watch me more than they already do.” He drops his eyes to your face, seeing you peek at his body. A grin is plastered to his lips as they curve upwards, he stretches his arms out wide, the veins in his arms protruding further out, oh what you’d give to just touch it with your hands, your tongue— wait what?—“Shit,” he says, drifting forward, your body pulling away from him, “looks like you aren’t into dad bods after all.”

Your cheeks flare red as you stomp out of his room, his joker laugh vibrates the walls as you slam your door. Throwing yourself on the smooth purple cotton of your comforter, and screaming into your pillow.

Nobody ever got under your skin the way he is. Why are you allowing him to frustrate you this much? He’s a boob. A pimple on your ass. That annoying twitch that your eye sometimes does when you don't have enough sleep. Yes, the festering wound, the bad rash that kept coming back, the burn in your belly, the thorn in your side— is now your roommate. Fuck.

A knock on your bedroom door, brings you back to your current state of throwing a hissy fit. You launch your cup of pens that adorns your nightstand at the door.

“Does that mean you don’t like pineapple on your pizza?”

-

Thank God you showered before Eddie started unloading his stuff, because he has been in the bathroom for at least a half hour. You’re sitting on the couch, the same rough, itchy upholstery that used to take up way too much space in the Wheeler’s basement. But a $20 bill and Nancy promising her dad that she would mow the lawn for the entire summer of ‘91, and it was now yours. Karen would sigh with relief that the ugly furniture was leaving, meaning her living room would get an upgrade as their now living room furniture would find solace in the basement. No longer stinking of cheesy pizza farts and bad B.O., or screaming threats from middle school boys about the inner demons of DnD, Mrs. Wheeler would come to miss the yelling, and the rotten stench of boys running amuck in her house. Nancy parted with the under stuffed, well loved, hideous piece of furniture when she moved in with Jonathan. So now, the outdated, wagon wheel patterned couch, was all yours.

The smell of finger nail polish fills the living room as you attempt at painting your toenails a shimmery blue that you had gotten at the mall with Robin. A fuzzy navel wine cooler tucked between your legs, you’re trying hard to get it finished before a new episode of “The Nanny” comes on. Eddie is singing in the shower, loudly. You recognize the tune as “Come As You Are” by Nirvana. Not that you were admiring the way his voice sounded. You were just surprised that a twenty six year old weirdo actually knew good music. The doorbell rings, snapping you out of, yet again, another strange spiral of thinking about Eddie Munson.

“Eddie!” You holler from the living room, “door.”

“Money’s in my wallet, just pay the dude quick and I’ll be out in a minute.” He yells back from the shower.

“Eddie, I’m busy— get the fuck out here and do it yourself.” There is no way you are walking around with wet toenails, what the hell was he thinking?

“I’m in the middle of washing my ba— “

“Alright! Fine!” You walk on your heels to the door, opening it quick to find a Hawkins High student in a red hat with the pizza logo on it.

“That’ll be $19.50,” he says with a less than enthused remark.

“Hang on,” walking back to the bathroom on heeled feet you knock on the door, “where’s your wallet?” you ask in a hurry through the door.

“Uh, my jeans I think,” Eddie yells back. You cross into Eddie’s room, looking around the mess he made, realizing the only thing he managed to make an attempt at organizing was his never ending cassettes, a few records, and an old record player. Posters decorated every wall. Metallica, Nirvana, Judas Priest, Black Sabbath, and White Zombie. The clothes were piled high in a mountain of leather, flannel and white cotton socks. Not a single pair of jeans that you could see. His bed sat on the ground, cluttered with notebook papers, dice, and tightly rolled joints.

“Eddie!” You yell from his room, “where the hell are your jeans?”

A chuckle echoes in the bathroom, muffled slightly by the spray of the shower head, “they’re in here, sweetheart.” His voice dripped with smugness and sweet notes of laughter.

Fuck it, we don’t need pizza. I can eat cereal. I’ll just tell the pizza kid to leave and Eddie can fend for himself. Fuck this.

“Tooty?” He calls from the shower, enunciating every syllable. “Come on,” he sings, laughing to himself, “I promise I’ll stay behind the curtain. You won’t see a thing— unless of course— you want to.”

You barge through the door, fumbling through Eddie’s jeans pockets, finding the black leather of his chain wallet and yanking out $25. An idea crosses your mind and you can’t help but go through with it. A flick of the lights had Eddie cursing every word imaginable as he was cast into darkness.

Thrusting cash into pimple head’s hand and shutting the door, you walk into the kitchen to get some plates. Eddie emerges from the bathroom. His hair is dripping in long strands, and your robe is wrapped right around his body, barely covering his southern region. The pink terry cloth material lined with lace looking absolutely ridiculous on his tattoo covered body.

Oh— this mother fucker.

“Are you seriously wearing my robe?” You ask, hands on your hips, nails digging into the cotton pajama shorts you’re wearing.

Eddie does a spin and swings his hips in a circular motion, his dick swinging like a helicopter.

“Well sweetheart, when you so rudely turned the lights off on me, I was forced to find the first thing I could to dry off with, and besides— you can’t deny how good I look,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows, smiling the widest smile you had ever seen from him.

A lump of anger and sheer rage catches in your throat, “you’re repulsive,” you say, turning away from him and tossing pizza onto plates.

“And you,” Eddie says sliding beside you, his breath fanning your cheek, the cold drops of water from his curls pressing into your shoulder as he grabs a greasy slice of pizza straight from the box, “are extremely uptight.” The whites of his teeth bite into the cheesy triangle and chew loudly as he smacks his lips, licking the orange grease from his lips.

Anger boils in your belly, filling your veins with agitation so thick they’re bound to clog up. “I. Am. Not. Uptight,” you seethe through clenched teeth, and closed eyes.

“Yeah, sure sure,” Eddie says, mouth full of pizza, and his eyebrows raised, “whatever you say.”

You weren’t always this high strung. But having everything ripped away from you, would make anyone pretty goddamn bitter to the lemonade life had to offer.

vol ii

volume ii

A/N: thank you to everyone for reading this and continuing to support my crazy ideas. Thank you to everyone I had beta this story—@agentmarvel @pinkrelish + @sweetsweetjellybean you all push me to be a better writer and I am forever grateful for that ♥️♥️🖤💋

Taglist: @luna-munson83 @tlclick73 @idkidknemore @joejoequinnquinn @newlips (omg, they were roommates)

[hwathinker]

"aww, why are you crying baby? come on, i'm gonna take a break now can i?"

pairings ; best friend!yunho x fem!reader warnings ; i don't think there is.. (i'm joking.. there's cockwarming, blowjobs(?), petnames) just yunho being a tease and annoying.. i really love the cocky + nerdy concept on yunho ;) wn ; hey! i finally got a free time today, so i decided to spend it on writing something. i'll be taking requests by the way! i'm hoping to see some smutty reqs from ya'll hahaha

"come on y/n, its not that hard to memories these shit." yunho said, poking your head which was buried to the book you were supposed to read. you had spent over an hour in his apartment, just for a study session. you also promised yourself to study for real this time but i guess the tiredness and laziness in you held you back. you shook your head aggressively, making him stop touching you. "y/n, we have a really tight schedule and i know you know that. plus our presentation is in 3 days. spend your time studying so you won't have to struggle to go out with me." you shot your head up as soon as yunho mentioned about going out. your parents doesn't really let you go out unless you do something great in school. but with pleasing them by doing house chores, you know you could get out easily. well, not every time.

"ugh.. how many times do i have to read these?!" pointing at the open book, you looked at him. "if you really want me to memories this then how about you?" you held the book up close to your face, shooting your eyes up to him then at the book back to make sure he isn't peeking. yunho sighed, letting go of his pen and turning to you. he looked at the book title, making a face to remember something. "well, physics huh.. what page are you in?" he asked, shifting his body and putting his arm on the table so that he can rest his head on his fist with his cheeks. you quickly went to the first page, knowing that he doesn't pay that much attention on a first page of a book. "uh.. page one. i'm not telling you what it is though." you said, burying your head to the book once again and shifting you gaze between the book and yunho every 4 seconds. yunho smiled, pretending to remember what was on the first page. "physics is the natural science of matter, involving the study of matter, its fundamental constituents, its motion and behavior through space and time, and the related entities of energy and force." you read what was on the page along with what he said, your eyes slowly going wide as he do.

"the fuck?! how in the earth did you remember every damn word in this one ass page?!" you slammed the green book on the table, going up close to him with rage in you. "i don't know, maybe i started to pay attention to the first page now. or maybe not, because i'm smart." he said, going back to his position and continue his revision. "or maybe.. you could help cover for me?" you said, leaning your head on the table as you puppy eyed him as you smile. yunho gave you a silent answer, which was a no. "come on yun, i know you like obeying me." you teased again, smiling ever so widely. "how about you study or i fuck that mouth off." he shift his gaze to you, placing down the pen under his palm.

you pouted, covering your face with your hand. yunho let out a small chuckle, grabbing you by your waist to get you more close. "i've never seen you this shy, y/n. you always fight back my teasings." he said, laying head head on the table too, close to your covered face. "i'd rather have a cock inside me for long enough than having to suck one that has a possibility of piss on it." you mumbled, hoping he won't hear a single thing when he's just right there, in front of you. yunho took your hand away from your face, meeting his eyes that was already staring at you. "do you want to try?" he bit his bottom lip, smiling lightly. you think, furrowing your eyebrows and pouting your lips. "i don't know. so you're hard?" you looked at his reddening face as your hand quickly went to his.. harden clothed dick. oh he is. yunho slaps your hand away quickly, holding them in his big ones. "suck it." he ordered, watching your smile grew wider. "why so needy? were you already planning this all along?" you said, shifting closer to him so there's no more space between the both of you. "sure. i'll do it. but you'll have to do a favor for me, too." you said again,getting up from the table and wait for him to strip. he stood up, sliding his sweats down and place them beside the table. but this time, he went to the sofa, sitting on it then leaning comfortably back while manspreading.

you looked at him with lust, his tongue going over his bottom lips, wetting them then biting them afterwards. he watches you walk towards him, your knee purposely hitting his crotch as you lean in to give his jaw a nice lingering kisses, to his lips. "how long have you been keeping this from me, hm?" you mumbled in the kiss, enjoying his taste. "ever since you appeared like a damn angel in front of me and decided to become my friend." he held your jaw with his hand, caressing them. you ran your hand from his bicep, down to his chest. gently touching every part as possible to make him shudder. you pulled away from the kiss, going down as he watches your every move. your tits, holding onto its dear life in the top you had. it looked like it want to pop out in any second you make a risky move. and your tight low rise jeans. ah, don't mention it anymore. he loves it when you wear that kind of clothes.

after you had took off his boxer, his dick sprung out, precum leaking to his base. "fuck, who are you going big for? me?" you said, grabbing his cock gently, kissing the pink aching tip. he hissed in pleasure, throwing his head back. "who else do i have to keep this dick for? of course it was for you, angel." oh god, that nickname has you every time. you licks his cock slowly, going down and fitting the whole base in your mouth. as you suck him off. him, on the other hand are sweating, tears started to form in that boy's eyes. he had his hands placed prettily under your chin so he has a better view while the other caress your hair ever so sweetly. he is this sweet when receiving a blowjob? oh you could do this everyday if it means he is. "mmh, such a good girl. other boys must not be this thick, right? i know you enjoy this so much, baby." he said in between moans, grunts. you swirl your tongue, making a popping sound when letting his cock go. he felt empty, and cold.

yunho pouted, watching his dick being held and watched by you. "y/n.. why did you do that? more please.." he begged, grabbing your free hand and holding them in his. "i want a favor back." you gently pump his cock, watching him biting his bottom lip. "what is it hm..?" he hummed, thinking about what you possibly want. you leaned and lay your cheeks on his cock, looking up to him. "i want you to cover for me for the presentation soon."

and that, you were being sat on his lap while he does his revision. your top thrown away even god don't know where, your jeans and red panties thrown at the sofa. now, you're being forced to sit on his dick that has cummed a few times because you moved a little. you were facing behind, hugging him so tightly, hoping to not make a certain move or he takes a break to play with your hardened tits again. i said, again. you shuddered at the feeling of his liquid constantly coming out and its touching your walls. "y/n baby, don't move please? i've said this a thousandth times already." as he put his pen down, he pulled you so that you're leaning on the edge of the table and facing him. "aww, why are you crying baby? come on, i'm can take a break now can i?"

--

hehe a small yunho smut for ya'll <3 i miss this man so much and have you seen his airport look? god damn i would devour every single inch of it. and have ya'll seen seonghwa's gianna boyfriend?? goshh if he's not putting a shirt on i'm gonna suck those tits LMAO lmk if theres any error guys.. and remember to drop some hot ass smut thoughts on my inbox please im beggin u

[tgcg]

part 1 of something specific

TG: oh my god you get it

CG: OF COURSE I FUCKING DO, DAVE. I’LL ALLOW MYSELF CREDIT FOR ONE GOOD THING, AND THAT’S THE FACT THAT I KNOW HOW TO CONSUME MEDIA CORRECTLY.

TG: you understand me

TG: so many damn times ive tried to turn john over on this business and he doesnt listen

TG: like you dont need to be gay to see how naruto and sasuke are the romance of the fuckin century man its not rocket science dare i say it is elementary level 

CG: IT’S BASIC READING COMPREHENSION, I AGREE.

CG: I’M NOT ABOUT TO EVEN *TRY* TO UNDERSTAND EARTH’S BIASES TO CERTAIN FORMS OF ROMANCE, BUT IS IT LITERALLY JUST BECAUSE THEY’RE BOTH GUYS?

TG: i dunno i dont think hes like

TG: homophobic or something

TG: i think if anyone is the number one ally to anything its probably john yknow hed have your back bro if you were all up and being bisexual on earth and people werent scrambling hand over foot away from you because youre an alien 

TG: but just because you were that 

TG: thing

TG: bisexual

CG: YEAH, THAT THING.

TG: he wouldnt care man

TG: he wouldnt give a shit or fuck about it probably

CG: SPEAKING OF LABELS THOUGH!

TG: aw man are you about to pull out the quadrant shiz on my boys

TG: are you gonna tell me naruto and sasuke got a hate on for each other or something cus thats 

CG: OH JEGUS NO, DAVE. THAT WOULD BE COMPLETELY MISSING THE POINT OF THEIR RELATIONSHIP’S GROWTH AND THEIR ENTIRE DYNAMIC, NEVERMIND THE PURPOSE OF THE STORY ITSELF.

TG: alright lay it on me shercock homos ill be your watson watching you with the big twinkling eyes of a newborn fawn

TG: sleuth this shit like you were there when kishimoto invented it

TG: his alien understudy rises from the caverns of anime hell clutching the scroll of one universally understood truth and with his otaku disciples there to listen he takes a deep breath and delivers his groundquaking sermon to the masses

TG: jesus take the mic

CG: I’M CLUTCHING THE MICROPHONE IN MY CALLOUSED AND BONE-DRY TOUCHSTUMPS, BODY WEARY AND ON THE BRINK OF CAVING IN ON ITSELF, BUT I SPEAK WITH A STALWART DETERMINATION THAT WILL RING TRUE THROUGHOUT THE COSMOS FOR SWEEPS TO COME. THEY WILL WRITE MY FUCKING WORDS IN THE STARS, DAVE. IT’LL BE ALL THEY HAVE LEFT OF ME EVENTUALLY, BECAUSE I’LL PREACH IT HARD AND FEVERISH UNTIL THIS MORTAL COIL DECIDES IT’S FINALLY HAD ENOUGH OF PUTTING MY PATHETIC HALF-CORPSE THROUGH THE RINGER BY MAKING ME GET UP EVERY MORNING LIKE IT’S SOME KIND OF JOKE, AND FINALLY LETS ME KEEL OVER. THAT, DAVE, IS MY CRUCIFIXION. IT REPEATS ITSELF, OUROBOROS-LIKE, EVERY CYCLE, AND MAY WELL LAST UNTIL THE COLLAPSE OF PARADOX SPACE ITSELF SINCE THEY APPARENTLY FIND IT SO INCREDIBLY HILARIOUS. THEY BETTER MARTYR THE FUCK OUT OF ME. YOU BETTER PERSONALLY SEE TO IT THAT I AM MARTYRED TO *SHIT*.

TG: done and done

CG: THANK YOU. WHERE WAS I? OH RIGHT. NARUTO SHIP ANALYSIS.

[l13]

what kinda kinks do you think hobie would have? :33

first of all i wanna apologize for this lazy ass writing i'm just UNHINGED i've seen so many hobie edits my mind cannot take this madness i'm seriously in love with him it's not a joke anymore, like i need him bro, I N E E D HIM

NSFW 18+, MDNI

❥ i haven't heard a lot of people say this about hobie but i think he'd REALLY like power exchange, like let my MAN BE A SWITCH PLEASEEEEEE guys please trust me okay hear me out, picture this: hobie laying naked on the bed, chest rising and falling rapidly as you continue to jerk his cock in an torturously slow pace, he's already cum once, so his hips jump every time your fist closes around his tip, and he's groaning, the sound trailing off to a breathy chuckle as he glances up at you, grinning lazily "Y're killin' me, y'know that?" throw in a little nipple play and man's GONEEEE

❥ definitely and i mean DEFINITELY likes dry humping ohhhhh?>>my god??? literally starts as a joke on the rare occasion he sees you bent over, or braced against a counter or smth, he HAS to come and hump you, and it's fine cause you literally do the same thing to him (you're the one that started it). the first time you did it he had laughed the sound giving you goosebumps as he glanced at you over his shoulder with a tiny smirk "You're mental,". but then proceeds to do the same thing to you every chance he gets. One day, you just rolled your hips back against him and the whole vibe changed. You shivered when you heard him inhale sharply from behind you, and his hands circle around your frame to pull you closer. and then he's thrusting against you hard, his clothed cock rubbing against the swell of your ass making you both moan as he drops his head on your shoulder to pant, "About fuckin' time,"

❥ random horny thought and not really a kink: he loves fucking you doggy style in front of a mirror, hand holding you by the throat, his fingers skimming your jaw as he tugs you back to him every time he thrusts forward, his other hand holding onto your ass securely as he snaps his hips against you. And then he's pulling at your throat and suddenly your back is flush against his chest, and the hand that was holding your ass travels around to your pussy to circle at your clit. You're both moaning when you tighten up so much around his cock "Look at you," he's groaning, snapping his hips up instead of forward and your mouth drops open in a silent scream as his cock touches that spongy spot inside you, and he's moaning "Yeah? Right there? You're so fuckin’ pretty, baby, should be fuckin’ illegal," and you're mewling, “You’re so good to me Hobie.. Can feel you so fucking deep inside me oh my God-” “Shit- don’t say that or I’ll cum-” DAAAAAMN okay i got sidetracked again

❥ lil bit of a voyeur maybe, he'd take you even at a secluded space at HQ (would first make sure if you're 100% in tho) he'd fuck you against the wall, with his hand over your mouth as he mutters against your shoulder, "Wanna hear you so fuckin' bad.. but we can't, right? Can't let them know how much of a good girl you are f'me.. Ah, fuuck-S only for my eyes."

❥ CONSENTTTTT consent turns him on so much- and let me explain okay imagine you're just getting ready to suck him off, unbuttoning his jeans, still giggling at his face when you'd said "no, the belts stay on," and then your fingers are finally under the waistband of his boxers and you're looking up at him- "Can I take these off?" and he's so confused bc he's never actually had anyone else ask him that question before "Wh- yes?" and when his cock is finally out in all its glory, and you're licking your lips, you ask again, "Can I touch it?" he can't hold back his smile this time, letting out a giddy laugh, "Baby, 'f course you can, you don't have to ask," idk he just thinks it's the hottest thing ever

❥ extra crack hc cause it just came to me: imagine him being like "You wanna try slapping me in bed?" and you're just looking at him like he's grown two heads but nod slowly nonetheless "....sure?" and then you actually slAP him like 10 minutes later and he's like :C "That felt personal love, m'feelings are kinda hurt." and you're just apologizing over and over and he's laughing at you- "m just playing wit' you. but yeah absolutely not doing that shit again,"