#under the impression that my ed just fucked me n i’m not sure how to fix it anymore

[dykefever]

guess who . is a bit lactose intolerant :-(

[flusteredloser]

sugar sweet

richie tozier x fem reader

category: fluff, fluff, literally just fluff

word count: 3,3k

content warnings: swearing, stealing, slight nsfw (sexual innuendos... bc it’s richie tozier), a driving scene written by a bitch who can't drive, overbearing fluff, sonia

a/n: hello here’s a lil soft fic i wrote in a hyper state today <3 i had ‘beverly’ by ben wallfisch from the it 2017 soundtrack stuck in my head while i wrote the ending so !! enjoy

🎡

"sweetheart, if you don't put your head back in, i'm afraid i'm gonna have to marie antoinette you."

you laughed dismissively at his empty threat, feeling a grin take over. you let the wind crash against your face and through your hair, the scent of sea salt softly filling your nose. if richie thought that you were going to give this feeling up, oh, was he wrong.

despite what he was saying, the sight of morning sunlight streaking through your flying hair and your torso poking out the passengers' window was one richie wished he could get used to. despite his nagging for the past half hour, ranting about the dangers of vehicular manslaughter and mishaps, he couldn't help but beam at your laughter. 

he almost hit himself in the head for getting all worked up about safety like eddie always did, but it was something he found himself doing often with you. keeping you safe and sound was one of the few things that kept him from staying up all night. besides, you guys were going to see eddie and the rest of the losers in a bit anyways. the designated role of the pedantic worrier would soon be shrugged off richie's shoulders.

keeping one hand on the wheel, richie’s free hand never left the edge of your knee, not once in the hour-long drive. no matter how far you reached your body out his car's window, his fingers stayed glued around you. you never said anything about the gesture apart from placing your hand over his. being his was something you never got used to, but you were far from complaining.

"richierichierichie i think we're here!" you exclaim, ducking your head back inside the car.

"you sure, dummy? the massive ferris wheel and circus tent means we're close to the carnival?"

your hand leaves his to go shove his temple, "fuck off, rich."

"i know i know, you're really excited," he taps your knee, "so am i."

he pulls into the parking lot, expertly navigating his way through the crowded area before finding a space. an empty space which was coincidentally beside a sketchy beat-up minivan painted with "URIS," in fat letters.

richie laughs, "what are the fucking odds.”

his hand moves from the skin on your knee to the back of your seat, his body shifting to face the rear. you subtly eye your boyfriend sitting in the driver's seat and tried not to physically express any of the thoughts firing in your mind right then. dear god, did he look good today. you end up shamelessly staring at him as he strains his neck to squeeze his way through tight space. his knuckles turn to this ghostly shade of white when he flexed them against the wheel, his rings glinting under the sunlight.

once he finally put the car in park and shifted his weight back to you, he catches your gaze. throwing a wink, he pulls out the keys and stuffs his belongings into his jean pockets. 

you’re sure he has zero clue about the effect any of this had on you. sure, he was your boyfriend but sometimes you found yourself feeling scared at how much you liked him. this boy has you wrapped around his finger and he barely knows half of it.

you reach over and run your fingers through his unruly hair a couple more times, enjoying the way the curls bounce back. “you look so good, rich.”

he rolls his eyes at your remark, but you don’t miss the way a small blush reaches tips of his ears. “enjoy it while it lasts, i can’t let the guards recognise me again.” 

“i still can’t believe you got fired and banned on the same day, rich. that’s genuinely so impressive, you know that?"

richie rolls his eyes but you see the hint of a grin on his face, “you going soft on me, sweets?”

“could never.” you ruffle his hair, letting your nails glide along his scalp and you laugh at the way his head naturally tips back. richie had no clue why the feeling of your hands in his hair that made him short-circuit, but he wasn’t complaining.

“do we really have to go see them...” richie groans, grabbing your hand and placing it back onto his head when you pulled away.

“richard tozier. i did not pester you to drive us an hour away just so you could fold at me playing with your hair.”

he side-eyes you. “why did i agree to this again?”

“because every day for the last month you wouldn’t shut up about ‘taking eddie’s slushee v-”

“ed’s slushee virginity, riiiight,” he breaks out in a smile, “jesus, can you believe sonia never let him near one in his entire life?”

you tug his fringe towards you and the rest of his head followed, “well, now that he’s all alone there, someone’s got to be there to guide him through his first time, right?” 

he faux-pouts back at you, the mischievous glint in his eye sparkling brighter. “fine.”

finally, you let go of his hair and he pecks a kiss against your cheek before putting on his sunglasses and tipping his cap further down his face. opening his car door, you sit there dumbfounded as you watch the 6'2 disguised dork clamber out of his side with your tote bag on his shoulder.

he glances back, offering a hand as if you were going to climb out on his side as well, “c’mon, we don’t have all day.” and richie made sure you knew that by dragging you through the park, evading the guards left and right in under a minute. it was only so long before you spotted a group of idiots wandering aimlessly. bev’s bright red hair was the instant identifier, and watching this bill’s lanky frame grab a fistful of stan’s curls to yank it about sealed the deal. 

“stanley, darling,” richie yelled through the crowd, “if you wanted someone to pull your hair that badly you could’ve asked me nicely.”  “shut the fuck up, trashmouth!” stan yelled back. “wait. rich?”

you walk over and sling your arm around bev, “you guys haven’t been waiting long, have you?”  she grins at the sight of you, “no, but if i have to hear mike argue one more time that the high striker is apparently ‘broken’ i’m going to kill somebody.”

“do me a favour and kill me, bev!” stan’s voice cuts through, followed by a shriek when richie too grabs a handful of his hair. 

bev’s hand leaves yours to go smack both boys upside the head. “y’all better stop acting like children before i get fucking fired. i’m not going out like dumbass richie here did.” she eyes the rest of them, who all halt in their tracks.

“yes, ma’am,” the chorus sighed.

🎡

"ed's, i swear on your mother's smokin’ bod that blue is the. best. flavour. there's literally nothing wrong with it."

"you just called blue a flavour, richie-”

"because it can be. it doesn’t matter if blue and red colouring are the same, you can feel the difference.”

"no, i really can't. i don't understand how the colour blue could possibly be-"

richie groans, "fine, eat your mommy's packed lunch like the big boy you are." he teasingly starts to wave his cup in front of eddie's eyes.

"quit it, rich. if eddie doesn’t want toxins in his body, leave him be." ben interjects before sipping his own neon drink.

the boys huddled together around a picnic table they had managed to snatch before the carnival’s lunch rush swept over. richie and bev used to work in the carnival last summer, the two-week period spent with one another supposedly being “worse than the devil’s asscrack.” the comment itself earned richie five slaps, one each from the boys, and a high-five from bev. that was until richie got permanently banned (which you still don’t know how) and now bev carried on by herself whenever they roll back into derry. 

currently, you and bev were on your way back from the concession stands, attempting not to spill anything. you each held at least four bags of carnival foods and drinks in your arms, bev also balancing the few candy bars she stashed under her shirt. teeter-tottering your way back to the boys, richie burst out in laughter at the sight of you struggling. 

“as graceful as a job you’re doing with that, sweets, do you want some help?” he smirks, already swinging his leg over the chair.

“nope, nothing to see here,” you groan at richie’s smug grin. “rich, i swear to god if you come near me i am going to-”

“hurt me, hit me, murder me, mmhm. i’m sure you’ll do a whole lot of damage.” he winks, swiping the bags from your arms.

“freaky.” stan muttered, churning his slushee with the straw. you grumble at richie’s endearing irritating act of heroism and plop yourself next to stan empty-handed. 

“here, you want some?” stan raises an eyebrow, offering his blue slushee towards you.

“thanks stan, but he’s got my...” you glance towards richie, half-expecting to see him distributing the snacks, only to see him aggressively nudge the slushees in eddie’s face. “you know what, i’ll take it.” 

stan scoffed, “what, you thought i was offering this from the depths of my generous heart? i thought you knew me better-"

the sound of plastic crinkling and eddie’s yelp cut through stan’s sentence. 

you look back at the sight of richie threatening to pour the ice into eddie’s hair, eddie shrieking and wildly missing punches at richie. dear god, your boyfriend was such a menace. richie and eddie never spent a day where they weren’t at eachother’s throats though, but anyone with a pair of eyes could see that they deeply loved one another. rich had that effect on people, you think. he was rarely overtly loving, but it’s not like he needed to be. you guys just knew.

ben smiles sweetly between you and your gaze on richie. “you’re staring again, y/n.”

you immediately snap out of it and go to slug ben in the shoulder. “was not.”

“was too.”

"was. not."

"was too!"

you narrow your eyes at ben who sheepishly smiles in innocence. he reaches over to grab a couple onion rings from your bag to which you lightly slap the back of his hand. he groans, trying again from another angle, “just because i pointed out your goo-goo eyes at trashmouth?”

bev snatched a couple rings from across you and threw them at ben. he chuckles gleefully at the perfect catch. “you know, he’s not wrong,” she points out.

“for the last time, i wasn’t staring,” you groan.

“not about that, genius. the way you’re absolutely whipped for that dick.” she smiles. “i mean,” you barely conceal your smirk, “the dick is pretty g-”

"not what i meant," bev sighs while the rest of them groan at your words.

“seriously though,” bill asks with genuine curiosity, “how did you even end up together? how do you even like someone that much?” bev tuts from the other side, “tread lightly there, denbrough.” 

“shut up, you know what i mean. it’s trashmouth we’re talking ’bout here.” bill grins, “it’s a mystery how someone can shut him up so quick.”

you laugh to yourself, thinking about the few times you get to see richie completely speechless. “it’s not that hard, you know?” you shrug softly at the way the losers nod. you may all pretend to hate the life out of him but he always had a special place in each of your hearts. “he cares with everything he’s got, no matter what. he’s always there for you even if you don’t want him to be. i just...i don’t think he’s been anything less than...” 

“-if you say ‘perfect’, i’m going to hit you.” stan says.

you roll your eyes at stan, “fuck off, but... but yeah. it’s so easy to love him and i honestly owe you guys an apology for being so annoyingly whipped for that dork,” you joke.

aside from the distant bickering coming from richie and eddie in their own little world, a silence hung over the six of you. it was too quiet. wondering if you said something wrong, you scan over them, only to be met with six variations of a smirk. more than confused, you chuckle nervously. “i was joking about the apology thing but if you really want-”

“you said ‘love.’” bev laughed.

“what?”

“you said ‘love,’” she repeated. “that you loved him.”

“i... of course i love him, he’s..” not trusting any more of the words coming out of your mouth, you cut yourself off and gather your thoughts.

of course you loved richie. each and every one of you loved your resident trashmouth, he was one of your best friends. the two of you were the closest of friends, an insufferable duo for years before you began dating. it might have only been a few weeks since he asked you out, but it’s not like too much changed from when you were friends. 

there was only more love, more affection, only slightly more sexual innuendos (majority of them were solely just to piss off stan). 

so of course you loved him. more than you did when you were friends. which he’s gotta know... right?

“fuck, maybe i do owe you guys an apology.” you joke.

“don’t think twice about it, this is nothing compared to him. if i took a shot for every time he went on some sort of love ramble about you, i’d be fucking dead.” bev replies, “and then he would carry on.”

you laugh, shaking your head in denial, “c’mon, he does not do that.”

“are you blind?” mike speaks up. “you’ve had him since the first day you joined us at the barrens. i can still see fourteen-year-old richie ogling you clear as day.”

you stammered at your response, tripping over your words. “mike, i think you broke her. she’s become bill,” stan teases.

you go to shove stan again and sorely miss. “anyways, my point is...” 

you avoid their eye contact and go back to churning stan’s slushee. “he has my heart, fuck, he’s got all of our hearts. like, is he an asshole? sure. does he get on my nerves every other day? definitely. will he be the death of me? probably. but i l-”

“i sure hope you’re winding up to something there, sweets.” 

you snap your head up from your dreamy rambling to see richie smirking next to you and eddie squeezing himself next to bill. you feel yourself go bright red at the realisation that he had been listening. 

“i- no. that was it.”  

“you sure? you going off about me... ‘but’...” richie pushes, quoting your words.

“richie, if you genuinely think you have redeeming qualities, i suggest some self-reflection.” stan quipped. “yeah, i was just pointing how much you bother us. no ifs, no buts,” you jokingly agree.

“mean,” richie rolls his eyes, shifting back in his seat next to you.

he’s gotta know... right? 

you wink and stick your tongue out playfully, to which richie raises an eyebrow at. he glances between the blue drink in your hand and your tongue, his gaze on your lips making you nervous. 

“now, what?” you sigh, wiping the ice from your mouth and pretending that you weren’t dying to know what was churning in that brain of his. 

“nothing,” richie shrugs smugly, “just that i’ve always wanted to know how my cock looked blue.”

the comment took you off guard, your instant blush only fuelling richie’s grin. without hesitation, you lean over with a faux-pout, an act that has richie’s eyes wide. “careful there, trashmouth,” you tease loudly. “you keep this up and you’ll see how stan’s looks blue.”

bev immediately gasps with her hand over her mouth, followed by mike’s stifled cackle as he slapped richie’s back. the rest of the group looks frankly stunned, and stan’s face is on a whole different level of red. 

richie doesn’t even look the least bit angry. his jaw is dropped slightly and he runs his hand over his jaw, trying to stop the chuckle that leaves his throat. if anything he looks proud. 

shaking his head with a smile, he slings his arm over your shoulder to pull you closer. “that’s my girl,” he grins.

“yeah, that for sure is tozier’s,” bill says.

there’s no way any of you miss the way richie’s face goes red under that comment and your heart skips a beat when he squeezes your side. when no one’s looking, you lean up and kiss by his ear, absolutely delighted by the deeper shade of red on his face. 

“darl, if you don’t stop that i’m going to go as red as stan,” he whispers into your hair. the both of you look back at the boy who’s trying to concentrate on his slushee and not the blush that’s continued to creep to his neck. “i’m actually getting concerned.”

you giggle, “shh, he’s fine.”

“no really, i give it a couple seconds before eddie pulls out his medical fanny pack,” richie says.

you look up at him as you’re tucked into his side, his arm still slung around your shoulder. his dark hair and eyelashes caught the sunlight, his blue eyes glinting as he glanced back. his lips were tipped into their signature cheeky smile, almost like a cue that he was going to say something out of hand. you felt the swell of your heart grow as he raised his eyebrows, prompting what he knew you were going to say. 

“you know, earlier...” you whisper, looking down to his hand intertwining with yours. “i just... i wanted to say that i... you know... that i-”

“i feel like i should be offended at how hard it is for you to tell me you love me, sweets,” he whispers back, clearly trying to keep a straight face.  fuck.  “oh god please, you know i-” richie shushes you, kissing the crown of your head. “it’s okay, i know.” you can feel the curve of his lips against your hair. “i love you too.”

trying to tame the aggressive blush and stupid smile that reached your face, you follow his gaze over to eddie. just like richie joked, he had this fanny pack laid on the table in front of stan. you weren’t listening to anything they were saying, but you watched the way stan was squirming from eddie, insisting he did not have heatstroke. mike stood right behind stan, pinching his cheeks and periodically wrapping his strong arms around stan to stop him from squirming. bev was leaning across ben and bill’s laps, joining in and poking her fun at eddie and you notice how bill’s hands traces figures along bev’s side. ben gazes at the group of them, chiming in every so often when stan’s quips got too violent. 

it was one of those moments you wish you could freeze. 

after a while, richie whispers into your ear. “do you think they’d even notice if we left for the ferris wheel?”

you break your eye contact from the group to gaze up at him. “nope, not at all. you think you can sneak us some tickets?” 

“please, you think i got kicked out of here for nothing?” he scoffs.

“is this how you’re going to get banned again?” you grin, poking his side, “stealing tickets for your girl?”

with a soft smile, he takes your hand to subtly stand and back away from the group. with stifled giggles, the both of you manage to make it at least twenty feet without the losers even noticing. the second you two were out of earshot, richie wraps his hand around yours and begins to run, “i wouldn't want it any other way."

🎡

[luxekook]

good boy ❂ hjs

❂ pairing: han jisung x reader (ft. hyunjin, changbin, & minho)

❂ genre: smut (pretty much a pwp), slight fluff, crack

❂ summary: in which you encounter a baby boy in your kitchen and you just have to make him yours

❂ word count: 3.4k (this was supposed to be a *drabble* lol)

❂ warnings: 18+, cursing, dom/sub themes (dom!reader & sub!jisung), alcohol, smut [sex toys (cock ring), teasing, biting, spitting, edging, jisung being whiny, oral (m receiving), noona kink, voyeurism, nipple piercings]

“So, you’re saying you could get any girl in here?”

You scowl as you overhear this inane conversation happening in your very kitchen. When your roommate Jisoo said she wanted to have a few people over, you should have known she had really meant that she was going to invite the entire damn university. 

Your small apartment is now overrun with co-eds, and you are planning to escape right back to your room once you finish grabbing your wine from the fridge. Parties aren’t really your thing. You prefer smaller and more intimate gatherings. But then again, your tastes have always been peculiar.

Which leads you to where you are right now, dressed only in your friend Soobin’s stolen t-shirt and your tiniest pair of sleep shorts, glaring over at the small group of gossiping boys across your kitchen island.

“Of course!” One of the boys nods, his full cheeks flushing. He’s admittedly cute with wide eyes and pouty lips. His hair is a mess of dark brown with lighter streaks mixed in. His whole vibe is amusingly at odds with his words.

“He’s such a sub,” You conclude, chuckling slightly. You’re pretty sure the only thing that boy can get from any girl in your place tonight is a thorough punishment.

You’re too deep in your analysis to notice that you had spoken aloud until you’re faced with four boys - three of which look entertained as hell and the fourth looks like he either wants to run away or to fight you. 

“Can I help you boys?” You sigh, cradling your wine to your chest. This is why you should have bought a mini fridge - less social interaction.

“You think Han’s a sub?” The tallest boy grins at you, “Why?” 

You smile slightly back up at him. He’s handsome, with striking eyes and a sexy as hell lip ring. 

“I am not a sub,” Han whines, recapturing your attention with a glare and a vicious pout. “Take that back!”

God, he’s adorable. Your lips twitch as you try to remain impassive. You haven’t seen such a bratty boy since your last sub had graduated over the summer. And now you’ve been without one for about a month now… Maybe things could be looking up for you.

Maybe you’ll play with him and see.

“No,” You say, shrugging slightly, “I don’t see what’s so bad about being a sub anyway. Baby boys are always very well taken care of, Hannie.” 

Two of the boys choke on their drinks, the one who had talked to you earlier gasps, and Han flushes bright red, his mouth opening and closing.

You grin wickedly at his speechlessness and saunter right up to him. Rising to your tiptoes, you lean into his body and whisper into his ear, “If you change your mind, my room is right down the hall, baby boy.”

You nip his earlobe lightly and then pull back. “Night, boys,” You wave with a smile as you exit the kitchen, sending a wink at Han who looks shell shocked.

And as you make your way down the hall, you hear, “Fuck me.” 

You just hope he asks you that later.

Almost an hour later, your wine is halfway gone, and you’ve pretty much given up all hope on your prospective sub. Sighing, you take another sip of your pinot and contemplate going against all of your principles and venturing back out into the throes of the party.

And then you hear the lightest of knocks on your bedroom door. Your smile is immediate. Setting your glass down, you hop off your bed and pad over to open your door. Sure enough, Han stands there looking like he might bolt at any second.

You wait for him to speak first and watch gleefully as he fidgets under your gaze.

“S-sorry,” He finally mutters, turning away from you, “This was stupid. You obviously were just messing with me. God, now I look like a dumbass, and Hyunjin will never let me live this d—”

You take pity on the poor boy, grabbing his wrist and tugging him into your room. Shutting the door behind him, you point to your bed.

“Sit,” You order and internally squeal in excitement when he complies without hesitation. The way his wide brown eyes are gazing up at you makes you melt, but you keep it together. “Now, why did you decide to come visit me, Hannie?”

“Jisung,” He blurts out and then ducks his head, blushing.

“Jisung,” You test it out slowly, and he reacts, shuddering slightly. “You like it when I say your name, huh?”

“Yes, noona,” He nods, gaze still on the floor. You gently place two fingers under his chin and lift his face up to look at him.

“Jisungie,” You murmur, “Have you been asking about me out there? How do you know that I’m older than you?” 

He blinks up at you, “I asked Jisoo-noona, and she said you’re in the same level as her.”

“Jisoo,” Your eyes narrow, and then you refocus on the situation at hand, “Now, Jisungie, I’ll only ask you one more time. Why are you in my room?”

You feel him swallow beneath your fingertips. “I-I don’t know,” He tries.

“Really,” you arch an eyebrow, swiping your thumb across the seam of his lips.

“Fine!” Jisung’s glare is as cute as it is fierce, “I’m here because you’re really hot even though you’re kind of scary and you embarrassed me in front of my friends and you might be out of my league and—”

You put your palm across his mouth, silencing him. “Oh, baby boy. Are you here because you think I’ll give you something? That’s not how this works, Jisungie. Subs have to earn their rewards, you see; and I don’t think you’ve earned one just yet.”

“How can I earn one?” He begs as soon as you take your hand away, “Please, noona. I’ve been half hard since you walked in the kitchen looking like you had just been fucked… But now I know it’s more likely that you had been the one to do the fucking.”

Oh my. Your mind connects the dots. “Baby boy, is that why you were making such outrageous claims?”

“Well,” He pouts, “I wouldn’t call them ‘outrageous’...” He notices your unimpressed expression and sighs, “Fine. Yes. I wanted to impress you, okay? Clearly that backfired.”

You can’t help yourself. You lean over Jisung and cup his cheeks in your hands, “Aw, you’re just so cute, Sungie. What am I going to do with you? No… more like what am I going to do with you first?”

Jisung squirms under you, bringing your attention to the growing bulge in his tight jeans. 

“Are you drunk, lovely?” You purr, running your hands down his chest.

“N-no, noona,” His breath catches as you drag your hands farther down, teasing the waistband of his jeans. 

“Do you have a safe-word?” You pause your ministrations and look into his eyes to assess his level of comfort.

“Damn,” He breathes, “You’re gonna fuck up my shit good, aren’t you, noona?”

You roll your eyes to the ceiling, “Not if you keep saying things like that.”

“Noted,” He salutes you with a smile and you glare. Straightening, you walk over to your drawer of fun. 

“I’m still not hearing a safe-word, baby,” You call over your shoulder.

“Um,” His face scrunches up adorably as he thinks, “Yosemite?” You laugh slightly as you peruse your collection of sex toys. You had a poster from that National Park on your wall.

“Yosemite, it is,” You say, finally choosing your toy for the night. You flex the cock ring between your fingers. Oh yes, this would work just fine. “Baby,” You turn back to Jisung as he still sits on your bed. Your eyes immediately fall to his hands as they press into his crotch. “What are you doing?”

Jisung takes his hands away immediately, “Sorry, noona. You’re just so sexy.” His stare burns into your bare legs. And then he notices what you’re holding. “Oh, fuck.”

You laugh, “You’ll love it, baby. Promise. Now, I’m going to wash this, and when I get back, I want you stripped and laying on my bed, okay?”

He nods furiously. “Good boy,” You praise, and you almost sigh at the way he lights up at your words. How in the world has this boy not been claimed yet? 

You head into your bathroom and take your time washing the ring. Even though you haven’t used this one yet, it still doesn’t hurt to be careful. Patting the cock ring dry, you reenter the bedroom and take in the sight before you.

Jisung is spread out on your bed, his cock hard against his stomach. His hands are clenched at his sides as he seems to be trying his hardest not to touch himself. You walk over to him, running your hand up his body as you go and then leaning down to place the lightest of kisses on his lips.

Pulling back, he tries to follow your mouth and you laugh, “Oh no, Sungie, you’ll take what I give you, and no more. Got it?”

He nods, not looking too pleased. 

“I want your words, baby,” Your thumb pads over his nipple and he hisses a breath in between his teeth.

“Y-yes, noona,” He whines, already desperate for your touch.

“Good. Now, Sungie, have you ever used a cock ring before?” You ask, stretching the object in question out in front of you.

“No, noona,” Jisung bites his lip, squirming a bit on your bed as he stares at the way your fingers play with the ring. “But I want to try.”

“Okay, baby boy,” You kiss him again and he moans into your mouth as your tongue slides out to brush over his full lower lip. Pulling back slightly, you murmur, “Remember your safe-word, lovely.” 

His wide eyes blink up at you and you can’t resist kissing him once more, this time nibbling his lip between your teeth and drawing a delicious whine from his throat. 

You straighten and walk to the foot of the bed. Climbing up, you straddle Jisung’s legs and set the cock ring down to the side for now. “Ready, baby boy?”

“Fuck yes!” 

You shoot him a look and he gulps, “I-I mean, yes, noona!”

God, he looks so good sprawled out underneath you, at your mercy. Even his cock is pretty, a feat you honestly hadn't been sure was possible. Oh, you are going to wreck this boy.

You lean over his cock and let your spit drip from your mouth and onto his length. Jisung moans as he watches you with dark eyes, his pupils blown out. “Noona is filthy,” He groans as you finally wrap your hand around him and slowly move it up and down to coat him fully.

Leaning down, you lick the bead of precum from the head of his cock and smirk at the low whine that Jisung makes in response. Gripping him tightly, you take more of his hard cock into your mouth and suck. You bob up and down, continuing to squeeze his base and his balls in your hands.

Jisung is quite vocal, you discover, as he moans your name in between what seems like every curse word under the sun. You swallow around him and almost laugh as he cries, “Fucking Christmas tree!” 

You release him and giggle, “Christmas tree?”

“Noona,” He whines, “Don’t judge me. I can’t think when your mouth is on me.” 

You just shake your head at the beautiful boy beneath you and then tell him, “Let me know when you’re about to come, okay?”

He nods swiftly, eagerly anticipating his release. Oh, what a mistake, you grin internally. You lick your way up his shaft from base to tip and then take him back into your mouth. You don’t take it slow like before; you blow him hard. Your hands squeeze him and you swallow him over and over. 

His legs are shaking underneath you as his moans pick up in volume. You wonder if his friends can hear him now. Honestly, they’re probably right outside your door right now, you think. Might as well give them a good show to listen to…

“I-I’m gonna come,” Jisung groans, his hips thrusting up shallowly. You immediately tighten your grip around his base and remove your mouth from him.

Jisung gasps, “N-no! Please, I’m so close!”

You pay him no mind, grabbing the cock ring from beside you. “Do you remember your safe-word, Jisung?” You ask, pausing to make sure he’s still okay with what you plan to do.

“Ye-es, noona,” His teeth bite down on his lower lip as he looks at you desperately.

“And do you want to use it now?” You aren’t sure of his limits and you don’t want to push him too far.

“No, noona,” His eyes narrow resolutely, “Give it to me.”

“Oh, baby boy,” You grin, “I will.” Slowly, you slide the ring down his cock with ease after having thoroughly sucked him off already. “If this gets too tight, tell me right away, okay, baby?”

He nods, “F-feels good. Tight.” Your eyebrows raise. Does Jisung even know what cock rings are used for? You might have to pay closer attention to him than you thought. 

You take him back into your mouth and his hips immediately thrust up. You push him down with your hands firmly pressed to his hips. You feel him swelling in your mouth as the blood gathers, no doubt making him more sensitive than before. 

“A-ah, noona!” Jisung moans. His hand latches into your hair as your mouth sinks up and down on his cock. “G-gonna come, please.” 

Oh, baby… You nod despite knowing his impending disappointment. He would learn quickly. You take him deeper than before, your nose brushing his pelvis, and he comes without the rush of relief that usually accompanied the sensation.

You pull back, watching as his face contorts in an array of emotions in a short moment - elation, confusion, frustration, dissatisfaction. “N-noona,” He cries, looking down at you in horror, “What—?” 

Gripping him lightly, you marvel at the thickness of his length and the veins that pop out, more pronounced than before. 

“You’re so pretty, Sungie. So good for me, baby,” You murmur as his eyes squeeze shut just from the mere stimulation of your palm surrounding him. You kiss his cock, worshipping it with your mouth, with your tongue.

“Noona,” Your eyes flick up to look at Jisung’s face. Tears are leaking from his eyes as his chest heaves. “Please. Have to come so bad, it hurts.” 

You release him and he sobs, “No-o! Noona!” His hands grip his cock, but he’s so sensitive that he releases it immediately. More tears flow from his wide eyes as he pleads, “Please, noona, please.”

You aren’t even sure he knows what he’s asking for; and so you decide to present him with some options. 

“Baby boy,” You press kisses up his stomach, his chest, and finally to his cheeks. Wiping his tears, you gently kiss his lips. “Do you want to come in noona’s mouth or on her tits?”

Jisung’s eyes widen more than you thought possible as he practically yells, “Tits! Please, let me come on noona’s tits!” 

Placing one last kiss on his lips, you move back down his body and tug your shirt over your head. 

“Fuck,” Jisung breathes as his eyes immediately drop to your chest, taking in your pierced nipples. “Noona, you’re so beautiful, so fine.”

“Oh, baby boy,” You laugh, “You’re so sweet.”

“Not sweet,” He scowls, “I’m strong. A tough man. A ah—”

You grab his cock and squeeze, effectively cutting him off. “You were saying?” You grin.

“So evil,” He mutters, his voice cracking.

Chuckling, you slowly and gently remove the cock ring from his hard length. If you’re being honest with yourself, you really want to sit on it right now. But it’s too soon for that entirely. So you’ll just have to settle for making this cute little baby boy come harder than he’s ever come before.

Jisung is already a moaning mess underneath you as his blood-flow finally returns, heightening his sensitivity. And when you take him into your mouth, he lets out a string of what you can only assume to be curses that definitely are not in any language you’re familiar with. 

Your tongue swipes over the pulsing vein on the underside of his cock. One hand moves up and down his base while the other moves up his body to tug on his nipples. Jisung’s head is thrown back as his abs clench, his thighs shake. He’s moaning your name like a prayer as his fingers dig into your hair.

“I’m close,” Jisung groans, “Please, noona!” 

You pull back, keeping your hand firmly on his cock, moving up and down. You move your body closer to him as he comes. Ropes of his come coat your tits as he moans loudly at the sight and at the sensation of finally getting his release. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” He chants, still coming. You carry him through his orgasm, stroking him and murmuring sweet words. 

Finally, he sinks back into the softness of your bed, spent. You continue to stroke him, “How are you feeling, baby boy?”

“Fucking great,” Jisung grins, looking so fucked out. “Noona, you’re like an orgasm wizard.”

“I’m a what?” You laugh, releasing him and hopping up off the bed. You start to shuffle over to your bathroom to get cleaned up, but Jisung whines, stopping you in your tracks.

“No-o, noona, come back,” He pleads, “Wanna see your tits up close.”

“Are you joking?” You roll your eyes, but give in nonetheless. Quickly grabbing a damp washcloth from your bathroom, you walk back over to Jisung. He props himself up on his elbows, taking the sight of his come on your chest.

“Damn,” He licks his lips, “Noona, you look so good covered in my come. You made me come so fucking hard. Come on, let me taste you. Let me make you come this time.”

You shake your head, smiling, “Oh no, baby boy. You still haven’t earned that privilege yet.”

“What!?” Jisung fully sits up now, “But-but, noona! You have to be so wet right now, right? Please.”

You lean down, a breath away from his lips as you say, “I am so fucking wet for you, Sungie. And once you leave, I’m going to touch myself to the image of you falling apart under me.”

Jisung’s breath hitches, rendered speechless. You move away from him, wiping your chest clean and shrugging your t-shirt back on.

“Stay here,” You order, turning back to look at the beautifully ruined boy on your bed, “I’m going to get you some water.”

He just nods, pouting adorably. Oh, he is going to be so much fun, you think. Flicking the lock on your door, you pull it open and sigh at the sight you’re met with.

Three boys stare at you with wide eyes and varying states of embarrassment. Jisung’s friends, as predicted, had indeed enjoyed the show if their unbuttoned jeans were any indication. The boy with black hair and intense dark brown eyes blushes under your assessment. Next to him, the boy with lighter brown hair and delicate features stares back at you with a somewhat challenging look in his eyes. And, finally, the tallest boy with that goddamned piercing licks his lips, tongue flicking over the silver hoop on his lower lip. 

“Enjoy the show, boys?” You arch an eyebrow.

“Not as much as Han,” The light haired boy mutters. 

You size him up, “And your name is?”

“Minho,” He answers, glowering. “That’s Hyunjin and Changbin,” He adds, pointing at lip ring and dark eyes. 

“Minho,” You murmur, reaching out to brush your thumb across his cheek, “Be a darling and get your friend Han a glass of water, would you? He just came so hard all across my tits - as I’m sure you heard - and he needs to hydrate.”

They gape at you once again, eyes flicking down every so often. 

“Well?” You level Minho with a stare that sends him off. You wait for his return in tense silence, and when he finally reappears with glass in hand, you accept it from his grasp. 

“Now,” You say, addressing the three of them, “Are you going to come in? Or are you just going to stand out here all night?”

And that’s how you end up spending your Friday night surrounded by four good boys.

You just might like parties after all.

© luxekook do not repost, edit or translate

[prettyboybarzal]

Dancing with Our Hands Tied (2)

Pairing: Pierre Luc Dubois x Reader

A/N: Hello, angels!!! Here is part two... As always, let me know what you think! Part three is almost done and will be out next Sunday at 8pm. 

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: Alcohol consumption

Previous Chapter // Masterlist // Next Chapter

“You’re practically jail bait for these men, do you understand?”

“I’m 21, not 18,” Sadie protested. It was 9 p.m. on a Friday night and you were standing outside Josh’s apartment dressed for a night out. You were reading her the riot act, knowing damn well that it was probably going in one ear and out the other.

“21 is young enough,” you argued. She rolled her eyes as you continued. “If you can’t find me while we’re out, look for Josh. Or Seth. Or Boone.”

“YN, everything’s gonna be fine.”

“I really hope so.”

The entire week leading up to Sadie’s arrival was stressful to say the least. You had to childproof your entire life just to have a problem free weekend with her, and that included childproofing the boys too.

Because Josh had met Sadie plenty of times before, he was more than happy to have everyone over his house for pre-drinks. It took a weight off your shoulders because being in an enclosed space with your closest friends meant it would be easier to keep tabs on how much alcohol she was consuming. And the more people she met before hitting the club meant there were more people keeping an eye out for her, and you need all eyes on her. 

Well, almost all of them. You could do without Pierre’s.

Josh’s apartment was already loud when you arrived, which came as no surprise considering about half the Blue Jackets were inside. When you entered, Sadie gazed around at his apartment like a kid in a candy story.

“This is where Josh lives?”

“This is what a cushy job gets you in Columbus.”

“Why didn’t Mom and Dad force us to become athletes?”

You ventured into the living room and were greeted by an assortment of hoots and hollers. Josh swept Sadie up in a big hug before introducing her to the rest of the boys and some girlfriends in a pretty general introduction. Seth slipped a beer into your hand with a knowing smile that screamed, “I got you. Stop stressing.”

Pierre wasn’t there and you were naive enough to think he might’ve passed on a night out, but then the front door swung open and he was sauntering in with a rack of beers in his hand. Sadie’s eyes cut to yours as he made his rounds to say hello.

When he reached her, he came up short. He narrowed his eyes as he studied the all too familiar facial features.

“You’re YN’s sister,” he spoke. “I’m assuming you already hate me.”

“More or less.”

“I’ll have fun trying to prove you wrong tonight then.”

He stepped away from her and said hello to the remaining few before completely ignoring you and slipping into the kitchen to put his beers in the fridge.

---

The executive decision was made to leave Josh’s apartment around 9:30 p.m., so while you ran off to the bathroom to get ready to go, Sadie flitted off to the kitchen for one final drink. Pierre did the same. When he entered, she was standing in front of the liquor, studying each bottle.

She didn’t even spare him a glance, having clocked him through her peripheral vision and deciding not to engage. He opened the fridge and reached in to receive a new bottle.

“You go to Ohio State, right?” he asked after popping the cap off.

She looked uncertain of him when he asked, but responded, “Yeah, I do.”

“You’re in the,” he paused, thinking for a moment about her class placement, “third year?”

“Yep.”

“How do you like it?” he asked, cocking his hip against the counter. He watched as Sadie poured herself another drink. She sipped it for taste, then added a little more Vodka. “I always got a little jealous of my friends who got to go to school.”

“It’s great,” she answered. “But I don’t think you’re missing out. If you make anything close to what Josh does, I should be jealous of you.” He chuckled softly, lifting the mouth of the bottle to his lips for a swig. She narrowed her eyes at him. “What did you do to my sister?”

He placed the bottle on the counter beside him, fingers swiping along the condensation settling against the label.

“I didn’t make the best first impression and she never gave me the chance to right that wrong,” he answered honestly. “It’s all good, though. I don’t need her to like me.”

Sadie caught the uneasy shift of his eyes from hers to the bottle beside him and decided that he had a shit poker face. 

“She’s a tough cookie sometimes,” she murmured. He nodded in agreement, eyebrows nearly raised to his hairline. 

“She’s determined, I’ll give her that,” he huffed, shaking his head to himself and taking another sip of beer. 

“I’m pretty sure she didn’t like me the first five years I was alive, so don’t worry, maybe you’ll win her over,” Sadie shrugged, giving Pierre a knowing look that he tried to ignore. If he was going to go around spilling secrets to anyone the last person he would choose was your little sister.

“Crazier things have happened, right?”

“Sure,” she said softly. Her eyes lingered on him for a moment like she was trying to decipher what he wasn’t saying. Pierre felt uncomfortable under her gaze, lifting his beer bottle to her and slipping out of the kitchen before she could make him sweat anymore than she already had. 

---

As soon as you walked into the club, you threw an arm over Sadie’s shoulder and led her to the bar. Josh and Pierre followed a few steps behind you as the rest of the group left to grab a table. Sadie’s eyes lit up as she studied every bit of the place you all frequented, overjoyed to finally be a part of your Columbus crew.

Sadie propped herself up onto one of the barstools at the bar and you stood beside her to wave down the bartender at the other end. Behind you, Josh and Pierre waited, deep in conversation about something to do with the team.

The bartender was quick to attend to your needs, dropping your drinks off swiftly before moving on to the next group of patrons.

You were busy surveying the land for potential suitors for the evening, not exactly sure if you wanted to end up in Charlie’s bed again or not. For some reason you were finding it hard to take interest in any of the men mingling around the bar with Pierre’s cologne overwhelming your senses as he stood just a few feet behind you. 

Sadie seemed to have no interest in the men that were hanging around the bar, which made you feel better at first. That is, until you realized she was eyeing up Pierre and then shifting her gaze back to you. She was up to something, that was never a good sign. 

“His name matches his face,” Sadie spoke after glancing at Pierre over your shoulder.

“What does that even mean?”

“He’s fucking hot!” she exclaimed. Her voice carried and while you choked on your drink in front of her, Pierre choked on his own in front of Josh.

“You heard that?” Josh asked him with an amused smile. He nodded slowly, desperately trying to push her words out of his mind. “YN’s blood is probably boiling.”

“I have a feeling I’m going to be castrated by the end of the night.”

“It was nice knowing you, buddy,” Josh teased. 

As you and Sadie stepped away from the bar, Josh grabbed your sister and pulled her into his side. Left in their wake, Pierre fell into step with you. 

“You talk about me to your little sister?”

“Only to tell her how insufferable you are,” you informed him. He grinned, like he always did, like he was one step ahead of you. “Whatever she said to you, don’t believe. She’s a liar.”

“So, she was lying when she said I’m fucking hot?”

You turned to face him, standing tall even though he was basically a foot taller than you. You raised your voice just enough to beat out the music, growling, “If you try anything with my sister, I will literally--” 

“Holy shit, I’m kidding,” he said gruffly, an exasperated sigh attached to the end of the sentence. He shook his head, mumbling as he brushed past you on the way back to the booth. “I don’t want your little sister, YN.”

---

Two hours later, Pierre was wandering the bar in search of someone new to occupy his time. He’d been with a group of co-eds for a bit, one of which he’d slept with once before, but they’d decided to leave for another bar. And though he’d been invited, he decided to stick with his real friends.

It had to be somewhere around midnight when he slipped past the bar and noticed Sadie at the end without any of her appointed babysitters and immediately felt worry bubbling up in his stomach. She was the youngest in the bar and seemed a little unsteady on her feet, and even though you told him to stay away, the creeps eyeing her down from the other side gave him bad vibes.

So, he stepped up beside her and leaned against the bar with a smile. 

“Bonjour!”

“Hey, Sadie,” he greeted her. She hiccuped. “You good?”

“Oh, I’m fine,” she slurred. “I’m getting another Tequila shot.”

“Do you need one?” he asked. His tone of voice was teasing, but the concern was clear on his face. When she turned to look at him, he saw how strikingly similar she looked to you. It was probably the glare on her face that did it.

“I want one,” she repeated. “And you’re going to take one with me.”

“Well, okay.”

Pierre had seen this one too many times before. He knew this shot was going to be the end to her night, but it didn’t matter how hard he tried to stop her, it wasn’t going to work. The bartender brought the liquor over and after some convincing on Sadie’s part, he poured a shot for himself as well.

The tequila went down easy for the two men, but the look on Sadie’s face told Pierre that she also knew that shot was going to be her night’s death sentence.

“You look pale.”

“Let’s go sit,” she murmured, grabbing his wrist and pulling him with her towards the booth with the rest of the group. Seth caught Pierre’s frantic eyes as they approached.

“She’s going to be sick,” he whispered as soon as they were standing beside each other. They both looked up at Sadie who’d taken up residence at the end of the table, knuckles white from from clutching the top. “Where’s YN?”

“I have no clue,” Seth answered. “The bathroom maybe.”

Just as Pierre started to look around the bar, hoping to find you in the crowd, Sadie lurched slightly. 

“I need to get her out of here,” he said. “If she throws up here, YN would never want to come back and she loves this place.”

“Do you want me to just take her?”

It was a good question and Pierre stopped to think for a moment about the answer. Seth could take Sadie off his hands and he could go about his night normally, or he could prove to you that he wasn’t the asshole you painted him out to be. For whatever reason, he chose the latter.

“No, I got her,” he said. “Let YN know what’s going on, would you?”

---

You returned to the table not even fifteen minutes later, already pissed off because of how long the bathroom line was. Needless to say, Seth letting you know that Pierre had taken Sadie back to your place was not what you wanted to hear. 

“You let her leave this bar with Pierre?”

His fingers danced nervously along the beer bottle in his hand. The 6’ 4” defenseman was utterly terrified of your wrath, and had you not been so pissed off, you would’ve thrived in the feeling. “I know you hate him, but he was just trying to help out.”

“Help out?” you repeated. “You think Pierre would do something out of the kindness of his own heart for me, Jonesy?” He nodded a bit sheepishly. “You’re delusional.”

With that, you snatched your purse off the table and stormed out of the bar in pursuit of your apartment. The walk was only about ten minutes long and, quite frankly, you didn’t give a shit that you were walking through the city at night in a short little dress. You were a woman on a mission and anyone that crossed your path with the wrong intention was going to get your wrath, and it seemed that everyone knew that because you weren’t bothered once. 

You threw your door open once it was unlocked and the decorations on the wall rattled as the door hit the wall beside it. Pierre, who’d been standing outside the bathroom door, jumped out of his skin at the sound. He righted himself and stood tall as you entered the hallway unsure of what type of reaction he was going to receive from you. 

You hardly looked at him as you barked, “Where is she?”

“Puking.”

He leaned forward and pushed the bathroom door open a bit wider, revealing Sadie with her head on the toilet seat. You huffed as you entered and kicked the door closed in his face before slumping down beside her.

“Sadie, what the fuck?”

“I suck.”

“How much did you have to drink?” you asked, hand rubbing comforting circles on her back. 

“I was trying to keep up with your friends,” she murmured before gagging into the toilet again.

“You know that they’re all well above six feet and weigh like two hundred more pounds than you, right?” you stated. She nodded and groaned pathetically. “You should’ve known better.”

She didn’t offer a response to your chastising and instead sat up to look at you and said, “I thought I wasn’t going to like him.”

You raised your eyebrows at her.

“Pierre?”

“Yeah. He’s actually a really nice guy,” she grumbled, dropping her head back into her hand that was propped up on the toilet. “Held my hair back for me.”

With an eye roll and a grunt, you stood to leave her to fend for herself.

“Wait,” she called as soon as your hand was on the door knob. “Can you tell Pierre that I’m sorry I ruined his night?”

“Sure.”

“Be nice to him.”

“No promises,” you grunted, pulling the door open to kick the hockey player out of your house.

---

Pierre was uncomfortable in your apartment. Before you arrived, he was too worried about Sadie to even think about the fact that he was in the middle of your personal space. But now, as you sat with her in the other room and he stood in the living room lurking, he knew he didn’t belong.

There were books decorating your coffee table and plants hanging from the ceiling above him. The television stand was cluttered with picture frames of your family and friends from home. His eyes caught on a photo strip from a Blue Jackets event. Josh’s arm was slung over your shoulders, yours wrapped around his waist, both of you clearly hammered and smiling like two idiots who’d been sitting at the open bar all night. 

Although he couldn’t remember much of that night, thanks to the date he was entertaining, he did remember one thing. He remembered the dress you wore. 

It was this dark blue, almost navy dress, and there was a slit up your leg to your thigh that he kept finding himself gazing at. For the first time since he met you, he thought about what it would be like to feel your body against his, to slide his hand up and between your thighs in the middle of a team event just because he could. 

When he got home later that night after dropping his date at home, he jumped beneath a cold stream of water in the shower. He was desperate to clear his mind of every dirty thought that included you. In the end, the only thing that could clear it was release and he ended up jerking off in the shower despite himself.

“I could’ve used a text. I was worried sick.” 

You snuck up on him, leaving him with no time to pretend like he hadn’t been staring at you in each of your photos.

“I would’ve texted you but, in completely unsurprising news, I don’t have your number,” he said defensively. 

It wasn’t like he was expecting you to grovel at his feet for making sure your sister didn’t vomit in the middle of your favorite club, but he would’ve appreciated a little less attitude or a simple ‘thank you’. 

“Her phone was dead, too, and she started throwing up in a bush, so I was a little more concerned about holding her hair back than calling you right away.”

Your mouth snapped shut.

“Anyway, you’re welcome.”

Your mother would kill you if she saw you now. You didn’t even say thank you. 

But, before your mouth could catch up to the thanks at the tip of your tongue, Pierre was pulling the apartment door open and disappearing down the hall. Not even a parting glance was sent your way.

[orange-waterfalls]

Reader w/ wings headcanons(Markiplier Alter Egos)

ty @fancybootm​ for the request!

A/N: i just did all of them. every-all-everyone. Except Yandereplier, Silver Shepard, Ed Edgar... maybe others I’m not aware of at the moment... I tried to stick with a certain number of egos, but my hands just... they just kept moving. It is 11:00 pm when im writing this ya boy is TIRED. there are 1.6k words. It seems longer than it is bc bullet points. Bear with me. You can find the egos that you want easily. The reader is gender neutral. i am so sorry if this is not what you meant lol. on the bright side this is a good reference for all the egos i am open to writing for(also maybe others idk) so uh im keeping it enjoy. I’ll say... a T rating for cursing and also a bit of violence but literally like 20 words. mentions of injury. that’s it.

Requests are open!

Y/N(reader) with wings hcs

No one knows what the fuck you are, not even you

Ya got wings. That’s it.

Are you an angel? A faery? A phoenix? Who knows

You woke up one day in a forest remembering nothing

But you had wings

And then you got shot with an arrow

You ran away and hid in a cave

Darkiplier spends most of his time around you studying you

To see what you could possibly be

He still doesn’t know

He’s settled for calling you a “cryptid”

He’s slightly annoyed with the feathers you leave around the manor

He won’t tell you bc you can’t control that and it’d be rude

You read together in his study on occasion

You sit on the floor bc your wings get uncomfortable in chairs

In sympathy, he also sits on the floor

You think it’s sweet

You told him so and he sputtered out a “shut up and read your book”

He’s fairly fond of you

You’re good company to keep around

Wilford was the one who found you

He was walking through the forest, as one does, when he saw GIANT feathers

Naturally, he followed them

He found you in a cave with an arrow in your shoulder

He took you back to the manor and patched you up

He begged Dark to keep you there

He promised not to kill anybody for a month

He made it 15 days, which is a record

He’s very protective of you, not letting you out a lot since uh… hunters

You are his Sweet Little Songbird, light of his life, wind in his sails, 

if anything happens to you he will kill everyone in the manor and then himself

He helps you preen a lot

His hands are very gentle, surprisingly 

He spends the most time with you out of everyone

You play games, talk(well, he talks to you), and just hang out

He loves and adores you with his whole heart

Actor tolerates you, or so he says

He’s jealous of your wings

HE’S supposed to be the mysterious, sexy one!

But ok, yeah, you’re pretty interesting

He uses you in short films sometimes bc… well… wings

There are alot of things you can do with wings, surprisingly

He took you out into town one night

He shoved the wings under a thick jacket

You guys bought some clothes and food

He cut holes in the clothes for your wings, grumbling about a “waste of money” and “you never go out anyway” 

but he enjoyed spending a bit of time with you

Wilford nearly killed him(again) when he found out

He likes venting to you bc you just nod without really listening

As I said, you’re good company

Yancy thinks you’re nice

He felt a bit… threatened at first

Ya got WINGS, of course he’s cautious

But they are very pretty

And he likes to use you in choreography

People always comment on how realistic the wings are as Yancy leads you away

You don’t judge him for killing his parents, he likes that about you

You don’t know. You could’ve done something bad. You don’t remember

He likes cuddling bc you wrap your wings around him and he feels safe

He also helps you preen… sometimes… 

He’s… really bad at it...

You like listening to him sing

He sings you lullabies at night

You’re very close

Illinois is very fascinated with you

He’s convinced you’re a fairy

He’s seen quite a few of those

You tell him you don’t know, and he goes “a LiKeLy StOrY”

He likes drawing you

You’re very angelic

“Oh, maybe an angel then…” He says, like an idiot

He takes you with him on a few adventures to fly him over pits and stuff

He’d never admit it but he has a… THING about heights

It’s called a phobia, you egotistic maniac

You try to help him with it

You never get that far off the ground before he’s screaming to be put down

He appreciates the effort

He gives you things he finds on adventures that are pretty or remind him of you

He infodumps to you about curses, and archaeology, and adventuring, etc.

Magnum is uh… well, he’s Magnum

He figures you’d be useful out at sea

You can find nearby land, ships, or treasure by flying, of course

He didn’t take into account the fact that you don’t really… fly that often.

So it turned into you just stretching your wings instead of looking for loot

Once you fell overboard

Everyone was like “eh, they can fly, it’s fine”

Then they realized that you probably can’t since your wings might be wet

Magnum LEAPED into the fuckin water and THREW you back on

He doesn’t take you on the sea as much anymore

sometimes you talk about life, treasure, love, y'know the usual

He’s very Father Figure-ly

Bim isn’t sure how to feel about you

You are a person. With wings. What’s he supposed to do about that

He’s friends with Wil, so has to tolerate you at least.

He tries to make conversation, but it doesn’t always go as well as it could

You don’t have much to talk about, and some of his topics worry you

Mostly you two just kinda… exist in the same general area

Sometimes he’ll discuss what he should do on his show

You don’t have many ideas

But you’ve gotten an idea of what it is, and sometimes give a suggestion or two

He appreciates you for that

He tried to get you on the show once but Wilford refused

You kinda wanted to, but whatever

You’ll hang out sometimes too

He’s very entertaining, he has to be

Eric is kind of scared

Not that you’ll hurt him, that he’ll hurt you

That happens a lot to people he likes…

He eventually starts hanging out around you

You don’t ask bad questions, and you distract him from his dad

He talks about animals with you a lot, and how he wanted a farm

You bought a cowboy hat and gave it to him and he cried

You also gave him a stuffed cow one day

He hugged you for a long time

You two cuddle a lot bc the boy needs SAFETY and SECURITY

You wuv each other(platonically or otherwise)

Dr. Iplier doesn’t bother you, mostly

He appreciates that you keep to yourself

He has his work, that’s what he’s focused on

Sometimes he’ll see you when you try to find Wilford or get some food

He tries to get a good look at you without looking suspicious

It doesn’t work, he always falls over

He once gave you a “physical”

It was mostly to just figure out what you were

You seemed mostly human based on the results

But goddammit you had WINGS

They had their own function but were sort of like an add-on to your body

He was slightly disappointed you weren’t gonna… turn into a whole bird

You tolerate each other

Google fuckin’ hates you

He’s completely perplexed by you

Which he is never because he is the most intelligent being on the planet

So he assumed he could figure out what you were

Turns out google fucking sucks at figuring out things people don’t already know

So he hates you. Like a lot

He’s tried to kill you multiple times

But his objective is to destroy MANKIND

You are not included in that

BECAUSE HE DOESN’T KNOW WHAT THE FUCK YOU ARE!!!

Also Wilford almost killed him for it

So yeah he just kinda hates you

You’ve tried to get along with him but he just wouldn’t

He finally talked to you when Bing called him a little bitch

Still hates you, but can tolerate your existence now

Bing fuckin’ adores you

You are just wonderful to him

You can FLY??!! You have WINGS???!!!!!

You don’t really care that he is an artificial BEING????!!!!!!!!

You’re perfect

He does Sick Tricks™ to try to impress you

They never do

You appreciate the effort

You don’t see him a lot, but when you to it’s very entertaining

He taught you how to skateboard

You kinda sucked but he’s very supportive

He likes just hanging around you

It’s the only time he ever chills the fuck out

Everyone’s thankful to you for that

Your entire dynamic is “what if... i put... my minecraft bed... next to yours? haha just kidding... unless?”

The Host doesn’t really care about the wings??

I mean, he can’t see them, so… what’s the big deal

You appreciate that

He still does the uh… narration thing… with real people…

The stories end better now

You convinced him to make the stories end better

You sat with him to make SURE the stories end better

He also started writing novels recently

You help with plot and character development

He appreciates that

The Jims… don’t really care about you

I mean you’re interesting, of course

But they physically Cannot get a clear picture of you

Even if you agree to sit still, it just doesn’t happen

It is always, ALWAYS blurry

They eventually give up and leave you alone

They do spend a bit of time with you

You help them with demon episodes sometimes

You don’t do much, but they like the emotional support

King of the Squirrels is… well, he’s him

He doesn’t… he doesn’t do much

He hangs out with his squirrels. That’s pretty much it.

You just started hanging out with him one day

He didn’t mind

You two feed the squirrels while sitting by a tree

He lets you wear his crown sometimes

He draws his squirrels, and lets you see the pictures

He teaches you how to draw them

You two don’t talk, really

You just sit. And hang out.

He doesn’t really smile, but you can tell when he’s happy with you

[lilsocksiswriting]

Stuck in A Cabin in a Snowstorm, What Did You Think Was Going To Happen?

Fandom: Haikyuu

Paring: Bokuto X Fem!reader

Summary: You accuse Bokuto of hiding heating packs in his  sweats while stuck in a cabin during snowstorm.

Warnings: NSFW, no beta, minors DNI

Tags: College AU,  Hand job, Fingering, pussy eating, Light overstimulation, 

Word Count:  3283

I promise this whole blog won't be just Bokuto. I just really like that himbo

This was ridiculous, but you keep telling yourself that things could be worse. You could be stuck out in the snowstorm instead of inside in front of a cozy fire. But who leaves their cabin unlocked? What cabin didn’t have electricity in this day and age? And more importantly, why do you have to be stranded in a cabin with him.

You set it in front of the fireplace and it's decent fire. Whoever owned the cabin had a large stockpile of wood kept nice and dry under a thick tarp outside. Between the fire and Bokuto setting behind you not one part of your body was cold, yet you couldn’t settle down. Mainly in part that you hated that Bokuto was right about sharing body heat.

“They said that rescue would be here first thing in the morning right?”, you ask Bokuto for the third time. The cabin wasn’t quite out in the middle of nowhere so you two had cell service, but your phone had died and Bukoto’s was at 10% now which meant he had to conserve that battery power until rescue got here. 

You feel his chest expand then deflate as he lets out a sigh, “Yes Y/N they’ll be here bright and early. Just not soon enough.”

“Rude," you pout, " I'm great company."

“No, rude is asking me the same question five times now.

“Excuse me," you try setting up a little straighter, "it's only been three.”

“Three too many.”, the athlete scoffs.

“You’re insufferable,” you shift around more adding, “and uncomfy.”

You hear him swallow thickly then say in a strained voice like you were testing his patience, “You know I really wish you wouldn't do that.”

You don’t stop shifting as you complain, “Well I really wish I wasn’t stuck in this cabin setting on an itchy bearskin rug with you.”

You suddenly freeze when you feel something poking your lower back. No way. No fucking way. You scamper away from Bokuto and turn your body to face him. Sure enough between his open Legs was a bulge in the crotch of his gray sweats he wore under his snowsuit.

“Bullshit.”, is your response to the sight. 

Meeting his gaze Bukoto’s glaring at you, but that wasn’t new and neither is his annoyed  tone, “What did you just say?”

You try to act like you aren’t phased by the deep tone, “I-there’s no way you're that big. What are you hiding in there?” your eyes narrow, ”Heating packs?”

“What?" he's confused for a split second, "No! I told you to stop squirming!”

“I didn’t do that,”  you deny what you had done and repeat, “And there’s no way in hell you're that big.”

“Well I am.”, he tells you in a matter-of-fact voice.

“No, you’re not. Were you trying to impress that girl in our gen Ed English class? The one that’s always making eyes at you?”

“No- wait she likes me?”

You roll your eyes, “Yes, but not the point. What do you have in your pants Bokuto.”

“My Dick.”

“Bull. Shit.”

“I’m not lying!”, he groans though his head back and gives you a nice view of the way his Adam's apple bobs for a moment.

You cross your arms setting up a little straighter, voice becoming more serious, "Then show me.”

There was a long pause. It takes a moment for what you were demanding him to do to register in Bokuto’s head, “I’m not showing my dick Y/N.”

“Because it's fake. I mean look at it,” you point an accusing finger at the bulge, “How are you still hard.”

Bokuto suddenly becomes bashful looking off to the side. The dim light from the fire is all the lighting you need to see the red inching up his neck, “Seeing you angry it's... kinda hot ok.”

“That,” you scoff, “ is a blatant lie.” Though a small part of wishes that it wasn’t, “Just admit that you're lying about having a big dick. It makes you look worse when you’re still trying to lie about it”

“Fuck! Fine,” Bokuto Throws up his hands then slams back down on the rug with a dull thud and pushes himself off the ground, “You wanna see it so bad.”, he says in a voice that’s low, threatening, and hot.

Time seemed to slow down as he steps towards your spot on the rug.  Bokuto pulls down the waistband of his sweats and his erection springs out right in your face. The mushroom tip already flushed and red and drooling a slimy bead of clear pre-cum. A thick vein runs along the underside of a thicker shaft, all of which sat above a heavy set of balls. And yes, the carpet did match the drapes like the girls in your gen ed English class wondered a little too loudly.

You sit there staring at the monster of a cock Bokuto really does have with your mouth hanging open. Bokuto has half a mind to shove it down your throat if you're just going to sit like that. It's like you were waiting for him too.

Your jaw snaps shut, mouth pressing in a thin line. You didn't want it to be true.  It would just further make Bokuto out to be as perfect as everyone thought he was.

"A Prosthetic," you come to a possible conclusion, "You're wearing a fake one."

You clip your glare up just in time to see the man fisting his salt and pepper hair then running his hands down his face, "Are you fucking serious Y/N? My dick's right in your face and You think it's fake?”

"Yea. I do."

"Why?

You shrug, not wanting to admit the childish reason why "I just do."

"Ok,” Bokuto breaths coming to his own conclusion, "then touch it."

In your shock you choke out, "Wh-what.

Your expression puts a smirk on his face. He puts his hands and his hips and bounces on the heels of his socked feet making his heavy cock bounce as well.

"Go on,” he challenges, “If you're so sure that my dick’s fake then see for yourself."

Your eyes flick from Bokuto's smug look to his weeping cock.

"Well?", he prompts impatiently.

You not being able to say no to a challenge, especially ones from the likes of the star athlete, reach your hand up. You swallow thickly when your hand wraps around the thick base which it can barely do. The erection was warm, weighty and firm in your hand. You can feel it pulse under your palm. All things pointing to the penis in your hand being very real. When you give it a sharp tug everything stays intact. You begin to stroke his shaft slowly, trying to find any indication of it being fake.

Bokuto trembles under your touch letting out a shaky breath. Under it, You hear him say, “Holy Fuck Y/N.”

Looking back up Bokuto is looking down at you as you jerk him off in shallow strokes. His eyes are dark and clouded, his lips are parted slightly, and his breath comes out in shakey huffs. A quiet moan slips past your lips as Bokuto needly bucks his hips into your fist. Even though Bokuto is standing over you, you feel like you have all the power over him, and you love it.

But Bokuto doesn't. Don't get him wrong, he could just cum from feeling and seeing your hand wrapped around his dick. It was that devilish smirk that spreads across your face as you jerk him off faster knowing he has no power over your hand that makes him feel weak.

 He tries to play it cool, "S-So, real enough for you?"

"Not quite. I need to finish my inspection before I decide that.", you say slyly and it fills Bokuto with both dread and arousal. Just what were you planning on doing to him?

“Then by all means inspect away.” 

The more that you stroke his cock the more Bokuto was coming to undone. By now you had already come to terms with Bokuto's penis being real. But admitting that was the last thing on your mind. You sit on your knees a little straighter, open your mouth, and look up at Bokuto not waiting for his permission.

"Fuck Y/N if you do that. If you put in my month -I’m going to cum.", Bokuto frantically informs you, his voice cracking and desperate to feel your hot mouth.

 You keep looking up at the athlete's face as you lay the head flat on your tongue close to your lips around it. You want to take more, see if you could make it past your gag reflex, but Bokuto wasn't kidding. His hands clench at his hoodie as his jaw goes slack and his mouth hangs open letting out one lang shaky moan.  His cum fills your mouth quickly and seeps down you though causing you to swallow or gag.

As he's calming down from his short high Bokuto smirks. Now it was your turn to be bashful and look away as you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand.

"Real enough for you?”

"I don't know. Tastes a little too sweet."

"Because I eat a lot of fruit."

"Excuses, excuses.", you retort.

Bokuto rolls his eyes. He's not done arguing with you. He'll never get tired of getting riled up, but right now he wants other things from you, “Yea yea, now lay down.”

“Oh are you going to make sure my pussy is real now?”, you tease but you’re already laying down on your elbows and spreading your legs so Bokuto can make himself comfortable between them.

Bokuto laughs resting his head against your clothes thigh looking up at you with darken eyes, ”Oh I'm very sure that it’s real and I'm very sure I can ruin it.”

“Ha,”  you put on a confident front but your eyes are  already clouding over with lust, ”I’d like to see you try.”

“Oh you will”,  Bokuto says, not about to let you have the last word.

Bokuto gets to stripping you of everything below your waist. Once he has your bar and the lips of your pussy spread out with his thumbs his mouth latches onto the sensitive pearl between them in a messy kiss. The sudden sucking and feeling of his tongue flat against your clit causes you to take a sharp inhale of breath and kick out a leg. Bokuto makes a ‘hmp’ sound and throws the leg over his shoulder.

 He pushes a finger into your slick heat then soon after another. It only takes the two to stretch you, but he doesn’t stop until he has four fingers  fucking your sloppy cunt.  All that time practicing those razor-sharp cross shots made his fingers calloused. They drag along your wall and press against a particle's soft bundle of nerves in ways that have you seeing stars. 

But just as your walls start to flutter around them Bokuto pulls his fingers and mouth away before you cum. You don’t even care about the pitiful wine that comes out of you because of how unfair Bokuto was being. He can hover over you and smirk like he won something all he wants. It wasn't fair that you got him to cum and he wasn't going to do the same for you.

“Aww, what’s wrong Y/N”, he pants, and it doesn't take a genius to know that he's stroking himself.

“Ass,“ you exhale, ”Do you leave all the women you sleep with this  unsatisfied?”

“Never, I’d just rather make you cum on my dick.”

On instinct you want to retort with a small dick joke, but you can’t when you have already been proven wrong on that. And being honest with yourself didn't sound half bad. His fingers were thick and rough in all the right ways and his tongue was so warm and wet, but his dick was a whole different story. Bokuto looks like he could rearrange your guts and why the hell not? You were on the pill anyway.

“You know how to use that thing?”

He gives you a blank look, ”I've had this thing for 22 years.”

 “So has a lot of other mediocre dudes.”

“You really like to get under my skin, don’t you Y/N.”,  he growls, his blank look turning into a dangerous smirk

 You smirk right back reaching your arms up and looping them around Bokuto’s neck. You do the same with your legs around his waist, locking your ankles together, ‘And I can do it all night, but I want you to put your money where your mouth is and show me rather or not you know how to use that monster cock of yours.”

“Oh so you're admitting it’s real now?”, He says lining up his penis with your soaking hole.

The comeback you have dies in your throat and you left your mouth gaping as he pushes in. Shit, shit, shit he was so fucking big. You can feel every inch being pushed inside you, stretching you in ways his fingers could never.

Bokuto stiffed his jaw forcing himself to go slow. Too fast and he would hurt, but too slow and he can enjoy how your face contorts between pleasure and pain. He lets a shaky huff of air when he finally bottoms out in you fitting nicely against your cervix. You both stare at each other panting, pupils blown.  Bokuto thinks you look so beautiful like this;  breathless, skin flushed pink, and eyes full of want for only him. It's a look he could get used to.

“Why the hell are you panting?” You ask slightly annoyed, “You aren’t the one being split in half here.”

“Y/N, it is taking everything I have not to move for you. I don’t wanna hurt you.”

You take that as both an insult and Bokuto just wanting to make sure you feel nothing but Pleasure. "Well, I’m not some fragile little thing. So move.”

Bokuto pulls back his hips until only an inch of his cock is left inside you, "You’re going to regret bossing me around like that.”  then slams into you.

It was like you here being stretched all over again. But as Bokuto continues to hump into you the burning pain soon fades. Bokuto's thick cock keeps filling you up over and over with each thrust. His dick dragging along that bundle of nerves from before and kissing your cervix makes wither in delight. Seeing you come undone so quickly further fuels his ego.

"You know for someone who acts like they hate me you sure do seem to love my fat cock."

All you can form are moans as Bokuto continues to fuck you at a growing pace. You are faintly aware of the grunts he makes from above and the wet slaps that echo through the tint cabin. But for the most part, all you can think about is the way he fucking your soaking pussy is bring you closer and closer to a huge orgasm you're not sure your body can handle.

“M’gonna- fuuuuuck Bo-,” your walls suddenly clench around him and refused to let go,” Cummin~  of god! ahhhh~” 

Bokuto follows you soon after you. His thrusts became more erratic as he fucks you through your orgasm and reaches his own. In one more powerful thrust Bokuto moans your name against your skin coating your convulsing walls with his cum.

"So was that real enough for you?", Bokuto can't help but ask as he and you catch your breath.

All it takes is a little push from Bokuto to fall over and let you roll on top of him. Before Bokuto's duck can go soft you start to softly rock your hips. Bokuto gasps and throws his head back. His big hands grip your waist but do nothing stop you. You wait until the athlete looks back up at you to strip off the rest of your clothes. His face was downright adorable. You've barely even done anything and you can already see he was getting overstimulated. His mouth was open, panting like a dog, jaw trembling, and eyes blurring.

"Aww what's wrong Bo?" you mock him as he did with you earlier. You quickly rid yourself of your sweatshirt and reach around unclasp your bra, "Is the star ace already out of stamina? Can he not handle a real pussy?"

"I'm still sensitive-" he's cut off by his own winey moan as you start to bounce on his hardening cock, "oh, fuck, fuck, Y/N  you look so fucking good on top of me."

"Yea?"  you smile as Bokuto continues to stare at your tits as they bounce along with you.

"You can look and touch you, oaf," You chuckle, taking Bokuto's hands off your hips and placing them on your breasts.

You let out a low moan when he gives them an experimental squeeze. Your hands slip back down and under Bokuto's hoodie where they come to rest against his chest. Bokuto doesn't even seem to register you putting your weight on him so that you can ride him faster. He can definitely feel the change in tempo.

You really start to feel the burn in your thighs but you refuse to give up riding Bokuto as hard as you can. He looks like he was about to cum and so were you. 

"So much," he moans,"you going milk me dry."

"That is the pint," you pant, " But  I can't sto-"

"No! please. I'm so close to cumming again and you feel so good bouncing on my cock. Shit, and your tits feel so good too.”

You dig your nails into Bokuto’s chest. He bucks his hips into which seem to be all that was needed to send you into your third orgasm. Feeling his seed releasing inside your messy heat has you creaming on his cock. Your third orgasm racks through your body. You fall forward and bury your face in the soft fabric of Bokuto’s hoodie inhaling his scent as your body continues to tremble. 

You stay like that for a bit, at least until the world stops feeling so light and Bokuto’s seed has begun to leak from your plugged cunt. He's flipping you two around and smiling down at you and you're confused fucked out face.

“What? You thought the starting ace would be tired after a few rounds? I can go all night Baby.”

You  smile back meeting his challenge, ”Bet you can?”

rounds of sex later you and Bokuto bask in the warm glow of the fire. Both of you are too tired to care if recuse finds you like this naked with Bokuto's dried cum between your thighs.

Bokuto's rubbing  a hand up and down your spine when he asks you, "So why do you hate me?"

your eyes were closed listing the heat beat but you were still awake enough to hear him and felt that since he spent so much time ruining all other men for you he deserved to know, "You're a great person, but you just kinda seem entitled. Like you assume everyone will like you. You don't earn it."

"That's all? You don't like me because I haven’t earned it from you?"

you nod.

"Oh! Then that's an easy fix. I just have to earn your friendship, then your love."

"One step at a time."

"And step one is asking you to go out for coffee when we make it back.”, you can hear the beaming smile in his voice.

And you can disagree with the offer,” Coffee doesn't sound bad.

[tommodirection]

Galway Girl

Louis Tomlinson x reader

Masterlist

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: swearing, fiddles, smoking, drinking, wasn’t proofread, written in thirty minutes

A/N: Heylo! This is my first fic for One Direction, so please don’t be mean! This is based off of the song Galway Girl by Ed Sheeran, and for the purpose of this fic, the some writers have been changed! Thank you, and have a nice day!

—

“Mate, listen, I know you’re gunna love it!” Niall assured Louis, gently hitting his shoulder.

Louis sighed, shaking his head, “Niall, I really don’t feel like going out,” he argued, and Niall shook his head.

“This is the one time we get to spend together, in years, and you want to sit around all day? This is Ireland! The best country in the world!” Niall threw his hands up in the air as Louis cringed.

“It is definitely not the best country in the world,” Louis grumbled.

Niall seemed to ignore him, and continued talking. “They have the best beer at this place I wanna go to, it’s just down the street! Karaoke is open too!”

Louis stared at Niall, “You really expect me to sing karaoke?”

Niall shrugged, “I don’t know, if not, there’s a buncha games and there’s an amazing band there, some of the best Irish jig music I’ve ever heard,” he reached his hand out to Louis.

Louis stared at his hand for a moment. He glanced up at the hopeful Niall, and sighed. “Fine,” he grabbed Niall’s hand and he pulled him up.

“This is gunna be great!”

—

You laughed as one of your band mates made a joke regarding the upcoming show. You were going over your notes again, nervous despite having played this hundreds of times.

You grabbed your bow and fiddle, and began playing as the band continued to joke. You moved gracefully, as you did every time you played. Your normal show would normally contain mostly slow songs, so your fiddle sounded more like a violin, but tonight, it was all upbeat.

Word had gotten round that Niall Horan was coming to the pub tonight. Another thing adding to your nerves. All of you wanted to impress him, which is why you were surprised the others weren’t practicing.

“Ey! Y/N! What are ya doing that for?” Fiona, the lead singer, called out to you. “You’re the best fiddler I know, you don’t ‘ave to worry bout it!” She complimented and you set your fiddle down, wiping your hands on your thighs.

“I’m just a little nervous,” you admitted and she shook her head.

“You’ve got nothin’ to be worried bout, love,” Fiona was a bit intimidating. Her accent was the thickest in the bands. You had only recently moved to Ireland a few years ago, you’d barely developed an accent, although you had certainly developed a taste for Guinness.

“Yeah, I guess I just need something to drink,” you paused. “Jamie, will you get me something to drink?” You asked your brother, and he nodded, setting down his guitar.

While you had joined the band, he continued on as a solo act. He was playing after you guys were finished, and you had invited him to join you before the show.

He left the room, leaving you and your band alone. Nancy and Eli began a quiet conversation, leaving you and Fiona.

“Are ya nervous cause of the famous singer comin’ down tonight?” She asked, sitting down across from you.

You nodded, brushing hair out of your face. You were only a little older than Niall, about a year. You were a fan of One Direction from the start. Despite living in Ireland when the band was formed, your favorite wasn’t Niall. It was Louis.

You had been infatuated with his accent, his humor making you fall even deeper. He has a certain air to him, and seeing him become more and more exhausted over the years hurt you. He wasn’t as flamboyant as he used to be, you had a feeling Simon Cowell had something to do with it.

“Well,” Fiona interrupted your thoughts, “I ‘eard that he’s bringin’ a mate with ‘im,” you squinted at her, trying to figure out where she was going with it. “Look at it this way. “E’ll be chatting’ it up with ‘is mate, ‘e won’t even be listenin’,” she finished, leaning back in her chair.

Your brother walked in seconds later, handing you your pint. Maybe Fiona was right. Sure, a part of you didn’t want her to be right, but it did calm your nerves a little.

You took a big swing out of your pint, swallowing it down in seconds.

Fiona stood and made her way across the room, peeking behind the makeshift curtain. Her eyes locked on something, and she quickly turned to the rest of you, giving a thumbs up. Showtime.

You gave your brother a quick hug, and grabbed your fiddle, making your way onstage with the others. Nancy counted you into, and you began to play.

Typically when you were playing, you’d go into a trace, focusing on your music, and nothing else. It was your zone. It made it seem as there was no one else in the room.

You finished the first set of two, and gave a content chuckle, looking at Fiona do a mocking catwalk up and down the stage.

You glanced around the crowd, trying to see if you could get a glimpse of the brunette singer, but it was hard to seem with the lights in your face.

Not even considering the front row, you began smiling at each person who was sitting there, and as Fiona talked, you sat on the edge of the small stage, waving at some people in the audience. Your eyes scammed over the audience again, and this time, your heart stopped.

Niall Horan was clapping, smiling as Fiona told the crowds some jokes. That wasn’t the most shocking part though.

Fucking Louis Tomlinson was sat behind him.

You get your cheeks heat up, your heart racing. There was no fucking way.

Yet there he was, a small smile settled on his lips as he watched the stage. His eyes ran over each member, before settling on you. You felt your breath hitch, and you gave a small little wave, although your hand was slightly trembling, so it probably looked pathetic.

It shocked you even more when he waved back, your mouth dropped and you sat for a few more moments, looking directly into his eyes. They were the most delicate shade of blue.

A gentle nudge to your side threw your out of your trance. You broke eye contact with Louis and looked up quickly. Fiona was looking down at you, a small smirk on her face.

“‘Ow bout we finish up now, yeah?” She teased and you stood up abruptly, racing over to pick up your fiddle.

This was the song you were most nervous about.

After catching wind that Niall was going to be here, your band decided to play a One Direction song. The only song that could easily fit a fiddle in it, was Act My Age, one you knew to be one of Niall’s favorites.

Within the first few seconds of the song, you saw Niall’s face light up.

Your first solo came up, the classic Irish jig, and Niall stood up, and began doing his dance. He motioned for Louis to join him.

Louis was laughing his ass off, holding a hand to his stomach. He continuously shook his head, until Niall hauled him to his feet.

He kept laughing and you found it hard to focus, being able to hear his laugh despite the adrenaline pulsing through your ears.

On your second to last solo, Louis finally caved, and he and Niall both were dancing, Louis’s moves a bit clumsy. Niall was nailing it though, although you had assumed he had a lot of practice, and Louis had very little.

Soon after the song, your performance ended, earning a standing ovation from the crowd. The band bowed and made their way behind the curtain again.

Fiona turned to the group, squealing and opening her arms for a group hug. You all were squished in and shortly after the hug, the teasing began.

Eli looked you up and down, chucking. “I’m surprised she didn’t drop her panties right then and there,” he poked your side and you gasped.

“Eli!” You scolded and he shrugged.

“‘E has a point, love. I coulda sworn ya were gunna mess up yer solo when you were watchin’ the other one dancin’,” she chided and you groaned, throwing your head in your hands.

“You guys are ridiculous,” you stood, grabbing an empty glass, “I’m gunna go get a drink.” You swiftly exited the room, not wanting any more embarrassment.

You stood at the bar, placing the empty pint down. You flagged down the bartender and asked for another, and you felt someone slide in next to you.

“Put it on our tab,” he told the bartender, and he nodded, quickly going to fix another drink.

You turned to the stranger who had just bought your drink, and your knees almost gave out.

“I-I, uhm, Louis, hi!” You exclaimed, sticking your hand out. He took it and gave it a little squeeze.

“You put on quite an amazing show, loved every second of it,” he smiled at you, a genuine smile.

You glanced down at your feet, and looked back into his eyes quickly. They were admiring your face, and you felt yourself blush under his gaze.

“Thank you, it means a lot,” you gave him a bashful smile and drummed your fingers on the table. “What was your favorite song?” These were typical questions you’d ask a normal person after your show, but Louis was far from normal.

He paused to think, tapping his finger against his chin, “I really loved Act My Age, but I did love the original song,” he squinted, trying to remember , “I think it said something like, ‘I wanna be mature, I wanna grow some more’ or something like that?” He suggested and your heart fluttered.

“Yeah, that’s one that I wrote a while ago called ‘Mature’. Fiona really loves it, and it’s one of my favorite songs to perform,” you admitted shyly, and he nodded.

“Yeah, it’s always nice to perform something you wrote, gives you a sense of pride, I guess,” he agreed and you nodded.

You heard a song come on over the jukebox. And your eyes lit up. (Yes, a jukebox. They’d play that music in between shows so they’d last all night). “I love this song!” You laughed and began humming along.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard it before,” you watched him try and rack his brain.

“It’s an old Gaelic song, one my mum used to sing to me,” you commented and continued humming.

“This might sound like an odd suggestion, but do you maybe wanna play some games?”

And that’s how you ended up where you were. You had just beaten him at darts, you weren’t at all surprised.

He got to choose the next game to play, and he chose pool, a game you had gotten pretty good at over the years. You decided not to say anything, and let the game play out.

That game ended pretty quickly, the same result as the last one.

“Damn,” Louis chuckled, and put his pool stick back in its holder. “You’re pretty good at these games.”

You shrugged nonchalantly, “Well when you play here every weekend, you learn the bar pretty well. And getting to know the bar, means getting to know the games.

He laughed lightly, pulling a box out of his pocket, “I’ve got to go take a smoke quick, you wanna come?” He offered, and you happily obliged, following him out of the bar, your brother’s music playing lightly in the background.

You both stepped out into the crisp night air, inhaling at the breath of fresh air. Louis pulled a lighter out of his pocket, lighting his cigarette and pulling it to his lips, taking a long drag from it.

As he breathed out, it vaporized into the air, the scent already sticking to your clothing.

He offered you the cigarette, and you took a small drag, holding back a cough as you let it out. You only smoked when you were stressed, a habit you’d been trying to break, but you figured you could make an exception for Louis Tomlinson.

After he had finished his cigarette, he allowed you to crush it, putting it out on the sidewalk. You both eyed the door, before looking back at each other.

“I don’t really wanna go back in,” you hinted. And he nodded.

“Me neither.”

“Will Niall notice you’re gone?” You asked, wanting to get away from here with him.

Louis chuckled lowly, “No, he’ll be preoccupied with that little blonde friend of yours.”

You knew Fiona was going home with someone tonight, it wasn’t surprising.

“My place is just down the road. If you wanna head there,” you nodded your head down the road towards your flat.

Louis grinned, “You lead the way, love.”

You grabbed his hand and began running down the street, passing though little crowds and trying to not fall on the road.

You stopped outside of your place, and turned to face Louis, only seeing he was inches away from your face.

You slowly wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing him closer to you. He placed his hands on your waist, leaning down to connect your lips.

It was soft, sensual, sweet, it tasted a little smoky, but you didn’t mind. You ran your fingers through each other’s hair, oblivious to the people walking around you. You were in the zone again. No one existed but you two.

You pulled away, and bit your lip, Louis pressed a kiss to your forehead, wrapping you up in a hug. You sat for a few minutes, swaying under the streetlight.

“I’ve got Doritos upstairs,” you said, and you felt his chest shake with laughter.

“I’m in.”

You led him upstairs, never letting go of his hand. You entered your flat, finally letting go of his hand in order to find the promised Doritos. Your eyes caught the bottle of wine you’d be saving for a special occasion, and brought it out, along with two wine glasses.

You poured two glasses for you and Louis, and took a seat on the couch, legs intertwined.

“So, where are you from?” He asked, shoving a Dorito in his mouth.

“Galway, just moved there a few years ago,” you answered taking a small sip of wine.

“Galway,” he repeated, studying your face again, “My little Galway girl.”

You giggled. “How bout you?” You already knew the answer, but you wanted him to say it.

“Doncaster, born and raised,” he smiled, looking down at his wine. “It’s a beautiful place.”

“I’m sure it is,” you added, and Louis laughed airily.

You spent the next few hours talking about yourselves, talking into the early hours of the morning, both finally passing out, however, before you passed out, you had heard Louis mumble something to you.

“I’m gonna write a song about you, my little Galway girl and a perfect night,” he said, his voice slurring from exhaustion.

“Whatever you say,” you whispered, passing out moments later. The next morning you woke up alone, and all that was there was an apology note.

You didn’t believe what he had said about the song, until about a year later.

You were driving on your way to another gig, a solo one this time. You had turned up the radio. Almost crashing when you heard the opening chorus of the song.

“She played the fiddle in an Irish band,

But she fell in love with an English man,

Kissed her on the neck and

Said “baby I just wanna dance.”

It had to be coincidence, but as you continued listening, you knew that Louis was telling the truth that night. He had kept his word. You quickly jotted down the name of the song and the artist who sang it, Ed Sheeran. You were quite familiar with his work, and knew he didn’t normally write upbeat songs.

When you reached your gig, you quickly Googled who had written the song, and right at the top of the results, was Louis’s name.

—

When you arrived home that night, you decided to DM him. You didn’t expect an answer, but it was worth a try.

y/n:l/n - You really fucking did it, Doncaster.

You got a reply seconds later.

louist91 - what can I say, Galway girl? I keep my word

Tagging @everything-is-alrightt bc I asked her on anon if she wanted to be tagged and she said yes... so... 😂

[isolemnlyswearpevensie]

Paper Cut Part 3 | Edmund Pevensie x Reader Soulmate AU

Warnings: Nothing but fluff! Seriously, it’ll rot your teeth. 

Time/Era: Modern AU but the Pevensies have still been to Narnia

Word Count: 2.1k

Summary: Exactly a year after meeting his beloved Y/N, Edmund introduced her to his family. 

Request: Can you please do a part three to paper cut... maybe where she gets to go to narnia? Or meet the rest of the pevensies? I loved that piece so much!

A/N: The long-awaited part 3 to paper cut!!!! Ahhh I love this AU so much, you have no idea! I’ve really been looking forward to writing this! Enjoy ~

Part 1 | Part 2 | masterlist | read on ao3

“Darling, when can I meet them?” Y/N said, laying on her stomach. She was on Edmund’s bed with her laptop sat afront of her. Edmund sat at his desk doing his own homework, his back towards Y/N.

“Meet who?” He turned around in his chair. He smiled looking at his girl lounging on his bed. “And don’t you have homework to be doing?”

“Peter, Susan, and Lucy!!” She rolled onto her back and stretched her limbs. “And it’s boring, so I decided to procrastinate it until the last possible second, thank you very much.”

Edmund’s smile grew fonder, and he stood up to join her on the bed. This year, he decided to move out of the university’s dorms and finally get his own apartment. It was small, but it beat living with a roommate he didn’t like. 

“Move over, let me sit on my own bed,” He pushed her side and she rolled like a log. 

“Hey!” Y/N giggled. “This is my real estate! Get your own!”

Y/N turned to face the now laying Edmund; their noses were less than an inch apart and he had a shit-eating grin on his face. It was the type of Edmund grin that only showed when he was genuinely happy. It made the corners of his eyes crinkle and his teeth show. 

“You are so beautiful,” Y/N said before she could stop herself. Edmund’s face twisted into a happy confusion. 

“Aren’t I the one who is supposed to tell you that?”

“Boys can be beautiful too, you’re living proof.” Y/N reached up and placed her hand on his cheek. His skin was soft under her touch, and she observed as it turned a rosy shade of pink. “I am so lucky you’re my soulmate. I got so fucking lucky.”

Edmund pressed a fleeting kiss to the tip of her nose. “I’m the lucky one, Y/N.” 

Y/N loved to see this side of Edmund; she was the only one who got to see it. He was usually rather ridged and introverted, a generally inward type of guy. So much so that at the beginning of their relationship, they discussed how PDA wasn’t really his thing. Outside of quick kisses or holding hands, the thought of being all over each other in public made him uncomfortable. Y/N respected his wishes, it wasn’t really her thing either. When they were alone, however, Edmund couldn’t keep his hands off of his love. 

He loved to study with her in the room. Knowing that his girl was close by gave him a sense of comfort when he was focused. And since they both had very hard majors, Y/N would most likely bring her own work. They never got very far into their work, though; favoring talking, kissing, cuddling, or sex to book work. 

“You never answered my question, Pevensie.” Y/N placed a quick kiss on his lips and sat up. She held her weight up with her arm while her legs folded to the side. 

“And what question is that?” Edmund’s eyes held a dazed look as he stared up at Y/N with his happy-Ed-smile and rolled onto his back. 

“It’s been a year and I haven’t met your siblings! You met mine! Hell, you’ve stayed at my parent’s house for New Year’s. Are you ashamed of me or something?” Y/N’s words sent an alarmed jolt through Edmund’s entire body. 

“Of course I’m not ashamed of you, my love! I just know how they tease me when you’re not around, so I know it’ll be a hundred times worse when they actually meet you.” He took a breath as Y/N giggled happily. His absolute favorite sound in the world was her giggle. “So it’s definitely not you.”

“What, you don’t want them to tell me embarrassing stories about you?”

“I’d like to avoid that, yes.” Ed leans back on his elbows. 

“You have homework to do, Mister.”

“I’d much rather do this than finish an 18 plage thesis,” His voice was cheeky. 

“Do wha-” Y/N was cut off by Edmund pulling her onto him. She situated her body so she was straddling his hips comfortably. “You’d rather have me straddle you than do your homework?”

His hands pushed the fabric of her shirt up so a sliver of skin showed. He ran his fingertips along it, watching goosebumps rise on her sides. 

“Have a hot girl on top of me or write a thesis? Hmm...difficult choice.” His eyes stayed glued to her stomach. Y/N couldn’t help but enjoy the view herself; his hair against the pillow, the slight scrunch of his eyebrows, his lips parted slightly...

“Perv!” She responded, swatting his hand from her stomach scar. 

They had a multitude of conversations about that scar during the past year; their scars seemed to be an easy talking point whenever they ran out of things to say. Like just last week, they had an hour-long discussion about a scar the cut through the pair’s eyebrow. Edmund was always very patient when explaining how the marks came to be, even if the memories weren’t always the most pleasant to relive. 

He shifted so his back rested against the headboard and his face was just barely lower than hers. Edmund tilted his head up to look into her eyes. “I’m a perv for wanting to spend time with my girl?” 

“I have to be on your lap to spend time with you?”

“Are you complaining?”

“No, not necessarily.” 

Edmund laughs under his breath before attaching his lips to Y/N’s. They always say kissing your soulmate is like a drug, that the taste of their lips and the feeling of them pressed against you was addictive. Y/N never really understood until she was able to kiss her soulmate whenever she pleased. Even small things, such as the smell of his neck or the concentrated look on his face while he was working, made her fall even harder for the boy. 

Her best friend had been surprised when she met Edmund. Apparently, he was nothing like what she expected Y/N’s soulmate to be like. She expected him to be loud and extroverted, someone who would balance Y/N’s reserved nature. But when she met Edmund, he was quiet, polite and just a hint sarcastic. She later revealed that she thought Y/N and Edmund would be one of the few soulmate matches that wouldn’t work out. Y/N was no longer friends with this person.

The very happy couple’s makeout session was cut short by a knock on the front door. Edmund pulled back and kissed her cheek. “It’s probably the neighbor asking for eggs again, I’ll be right back. Wait here.” He helped guide her off his hips and slid off the bed. 

Neither Y/N nor Edmund were exactly dressed to impress; they had agreed to catch up on their work and hang out before the term ended and they went on break. Edmund wore an old Rolling Stones t-shirt he stole from Peter when he was a teenager and a pair of gray sweatpants that laid a bit too low on his hips. Y/N wore a similar attire, including one of Edmund’s shirts, a pair of running shorts, reading glasses, and a messy bun. 

“Edmund!” Lucy’s voice filled Edmund’s ears as he opened the door. In the hallway stood all four of his siblings with big smiles filling their faces. 

“Lucy, Susan, Peter! Uh, what are you guys doing here?” 

“We wanted to see your new place!” Susan follows Lucy as she pushes past Edmund and into the apartment. Peter is quick to follow, shutting the door behind him. 

“Is that my shirt?” He asks. Edmund tweaks the corner of his mouth awkwardly and trails the girls into his home.

“It’s so much roomier than you said on the phone,” Susan exclaims, walking into the living room. Edmund doesn’t say anything and follows his siblings around awkwardly. 

“Is this your room?” Lucy opens the door and notices Y/N sitting on the bed. She had resumed the work on her laptop and was sitting where Ed had once been, against the headboard. 

“Oh, hello, I didn’t know Ed had company,” She said, taking in Y/N’s appearance. Her eyes gloss over her form and land on the scar on her eyebrow. “Oh my gosh, you’re Y/N aren’t you?!”

Y/N, who was taken aback by the sudden acknowledgment, just nodded. Lucy began to swarm her with questions and saying how nice it was to meet her. Y/N, on the other hand, looked like a deer caught in the headlights until Edmund came into the room. 

“Lu!” He scolded, sending an apologetic smile towards Y/N. “You can’t just jump her!” He extends a hand towards Y/N and pulls her to her feet. Once she’s standing, the hand makes its way around her waist. By this time, Susan and Peter made their way into the room to see what the all commotion was about.

“Y/N, this is Susan. Lucy and Peter. Guys, this is my soulmate, Y/N.”

“Hullo,” Y/N said shyly. “Sorry I look like shit, wasn’t really expect to see anyone but Ed today.”

“Oh stop, you look gorgeous as always,” Edmund replied without thinking. Y/N’s face turned a bright red color. The rest of the Pevensies awed. 

“Wow, I never thought I’d live to see the day where Ed is actually nice,” Peter comments, crossing his arms and leaning back on his heels. 

Y/N felt small under the stares of the Pevensie siblings and judging my Edmund’s body language, he was as well. 

“Well, we better be off...We just came in to say hi.” Peter could sense the awkwardness in the room. 

“We just got here!” Lucy frowned. She looked about 19, but it was evident she was the most friendly and excited of the group. Susan seemed to be more like Edmund, while Peter fell somewhere in between Susan and Edmund. 

“Peter’s right, Lou. It looks like Y/N and Ed have someone homework to do.” She gestured at the laptops and textbooks. “Y/N, Lucy and I are having a girls day later this week, you should come. We’d love to get to know you a bit better.” 

“Yeah, sure, okay,” Y/N felt Edmund’s grip on her hip loosen. “I’d love to, thanks for inviting me.”

~

After they left, both lovers let go of a breath they didn’t know they were holding. 

“Oh no, they hate me!” Y/N grew sad. That was nothing like what she imagined meeting his family would be like. 

“Nah, they love you already. It was just awkward because they caught us off guard.” Edmund sat on his computer chair and pulled Y/N so she was sat horizontally on his lap. 

“I look a mess, I acted a mess! This is awful!”

“Baby, you did great.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “They love you, and I love you. It’s okay. You’ll remeet them soon, and it’ll go smoother. I promise.”

“Why were they here in the first place?”

“To see the apartment, I guess. They like to drop in sometimes.”

Y/N kissed his lips and got off of his lap. “Well, they were quite nice. Lucy is very friendly.”

Edmund chuckled under his breath, “Sorry about her. She gets like that when she’s excited. She’s been dying to meet you.”

“She has?”

“Of course, she asks every time I talk to her. And hey, I guess this answered your question from earlier!”

“Wow, I hope lived up to her expectations.” Y/N responded, picking up her laptop and closing it. 

“You worry too much, darling.”

“I suppose I do.” Y/N placed the laptop on Edmund’s desk. 

He sighed and turned to his own computer. “I guess I have to write this thesis now.”

“Nerd,”

“Hey! I’m not a nerd! You’re a nerd!”

“Well, this nerd loves you, nerd!” Y/N resumed her place on the bed without a care in the world.

“I love you too, nerd! Now do your work, I’m not the only one who has to study!” A small second of silence fell over the room.

“Make me.”

Edmund paused and slowly turned around in his chair. His eyes had a mischievous glint to them and his mouth was formed a smirk. “Oh, don’t mind if I do.”

[deans-baby-momma]

Truth or Dare-Part 8/20

Summary: The Winchester sibling trio has been through so much in the last decade. From the night of their parents’ 30th wedding anniversary party where Sam and Dean eased Y/N from her innocence to Sam becoming a happily married lawyer with a kickass nurse of wife to the three of them now living in the same town they grew up in under the same roof where each of them came of age.  Y/N is a working mother of three,  her days spent helping the townsfolk make proper and suitable financial decisions while bustling about escorting her two oldest to school and her youngest, Mary Ellen, to daycare; Dean’s garage is the premiere body shop for classic restorations and  car maintenance; people from other state’s bring their vehicles to them to be repaired. Business at Winchester Wheels  is booming; Sam is the legal council for Winchester Wheels and has been since he moved back home almost 5 years ago. He has his work cut out for him dealing with the people Dean pisses off and threatens to sue the garage on at least a monthly basis.

After one lust-filled night, the siblings become more than family.  They become lovers. The three of them, together and separately.

One big loving family.

So when Y/N’s boss calls for her to take a much needed vacation, the six of them hit the road. What will happen? Will it bring them closer together or break them apart?

W/C: 1556

Warnings: talk of body changes, SMUT, fluff, Sammy being “saucy”

I would be lying to say the idea of being Dean's one and only, to know that he was bound to me, isn't enticing and exhilarating.

Although, even now we are already practically a married couple. We basically live together; he hardly ever goes to his apartment and never sleeps there. He is in my bed, snuggled up to me each and every night. We raise our children together, making sure all their needs are met. We have sex. Sure sometimes Sam is involved but there are times when Dean and I get some one-on-one time. And let me tell you, as passionate as it is with both of my brothers, when it is just Dean and I, it's more sensual, more intimate.

So, yea I let jealousy get its claws in me tonight and that monster made me believe that I wasn't enough for Dean. I'm such an idiot.

"I'm sorry," I say quietly, looking down at my lap. "I got jealous."

I look up at my lover through my lashes and see the smirk on his face. Cocky bastard!

"Don't be so smug asshole," I tell him but the sides of my lips lift. "It hurt. I thought you were tired of me or that I wasn't enough."  

"You will always be enough for me and I will never, ever tire of you," he tells me as he slides off the bed to the floor and walks on his knees to me. "Lisa was exactly what you called her, a whore. Hell, her pussy has probably been fucked by so many dicks, it'd feel like a hot dog in a hallway."

I couldn't help but laugh at his analogy. Dean Winchester sure had a way with words sometimes.

"You're probably right. What about mine?" I ask, feeling those desires creeping back up my body. "I'm sure I'm not as tight as I used to be. I have pushed three humans out of it."

Dean smiles up at me and lifts his hand,  pushing my hair behind my ear.

"Baby girl,  your pussy feels exquisite. Squeezes my dick just right. They, uh, they shrink back after you give birth. Not right away, but eventually."

"What?" I laugh. "How the hell do you know that?"

Dean blushes and clears his throat. "I might have done some research when you were pregnant with Isabella. I wanted to know what I should expect."

"So I'm still tight?"

"Well not as tight as before you gave birth, but baby you fit my cock like a glove. Sammy too. Hey, we talk!" he defends at my raised eyebrow. "We don't always just talk shop at work. I know about what happened when you tried…."

"Okay. Okay," I cut him off, feeling embarrassed about the time Sam and I 69'ed the first time. I actually tried to deep-throat Sam and actually ended up puking on him instead. The man's dick was lengthy!

"Y/N?" Dean says as he looks into my eyes. "Can I please make love to you now?"

I nod and breathe out, "Yes. Please."

Dean puts his hand on the back of my neck and pulls me down, capturing my mouth. He immediately requests access that I grant it by parting my lips for his tongue to snake through. 

I can already feel my clit tingling as I squirm on the chair, trying to find some friction. Putting his hands on my hips he stills my fidgeting; his tongue battling against mine. 

He pulls me from the chair and I land on his thighs as he sits back on his heels. 

“Can’t wait to get inside you,” he whispers against my lips. 

“Can’t wait to cum on your dick,” I reply. 

Dean pulls my legs to wrap around his waist and somehow manages to stand up from the floor with my body wrapped around his. I squeak and curl my arms around his neck as I deepen the kiss. 

He lays me gently back on the bed, never breaking the connection as he lays right beside me, his hand running up and down my body, squeezing periodically. 

We slowly work at undressing one another and when we are both bare, he takes no time in taking his spot between my thighs. 

“I love everything about you Y/N,” he tells me, looking into my eyes. “I love your voice, your laugh, the way you walk, the way you talk. I love watching the way you take care of my children, the way you take care of me and Sammy. I couldn’t imagine anyone else I’d want to do any of that with. 

“You have had my heart since I was 16 years old and realized how I felt about my little sister. It might be wrong but it felt so right. Now,” he continues after bending down and pecking a kiss on my lips. “I’m going to enjoy fucking you into this mattress because I really love doing that.”

“Go for it,” I respond and promptly turn my head to the side, burying my face in the pillow and screaming as Dean slams into me. He is fully sheathed and throbbing inside my pussy and it feels so good. So good!

“Move! Move! Dammit Dean, MOVE!”

Dean obeys and begins a hard and fast pace, pumping into me over and over. His grunts are just as loud as my moans and whines.

“Fuck! Baby girl, this pussy will be the death of me. Goddamn, it’s so tight; squeezing my dick so good. Oh, you’re close aren’t you? You gonna cum on my dick? Yea you are. Come on. Cum all over my cock. Let me feel you. Let go.”

A sharp thrust causes the tip of his dick to hit that one good spot inside and I see stars! I cum so hard that I think I forget how to breathe, how to do anything, as my climax rushes through my body and releases around him.

“Fuck, Y/N. You squirted all over me,” Dean says in awe. Once I get my bearings back, I become aware of just how wet it is down there. The squelching sound as he keeps thrusting into me is heard throughout the room, along with the slapping of wet skin. 

Dean’s pace begins to falter and I know he is close to his own orgasm. “Fill me up Dean. Put all that cum in my pussy. I want to feel it leaking out of me for days. Come on, cum inside me, all over me, wherever you want. Mark me as yours!”

Dean growls. He growls like a bear right before he wraps his arms around my back, causing me to arch. His hips are going at a maniacal speed as he grunts and pants in my ear. 

“Oh shit!” he exclaims, as he pushes in as far as he can, his whole dick inside my cavern as he throbs and spurts and spews; his cum splashing against my walls and filling me to the brim. 

We lay on the bed, still joined for what seems like hours. Dean’s dick softens inside of me but he doesn’t move. His body on top of mine keeps me grounded and I lay there and think about what happened tonight. 

Dean and I had our first official date as a couple, he took me to a nice buffet and then at the bar he tried to impress me by breaking the record on a mechanical bull. I got jealous and went off on some bitch who was trying to flirt with him, to us coming back and him professing his undying, unyielding love for me and telling me he wished I could be his wife! 

I get pulled from my reminiscing as Dean pulls out of me with a squelch. I immediately feel his cum running out of me and down my ass to the sheets. Dean looks down and smiles. 

“I love seeing you pour my cum,” he says then hops up and goes to the bathroom, returning with a damp washcloth. He cleans me up and then wipes himself off before throwing the rag back into the bathroom.

We climb into bed together and he pulls me close; my head on his chest and his arm wrapped around me. Our hands join on his abdomen and we just lay there, cuddled together. 

“I’ll try not to get jealous again,” I whisper and kiss his skin.

“I like it when you’re jealous,” he says. I raise my head and look at him, confused. “Shows that you do care, you do love me. And it leads to some ah-mazing sex!”

We laugh and I return to laying on his chest. “I have to agree there.”

When we do finally doze off, we are closer than ever before.

There is a knock on the door between the two rooms way too early for my liking, but I can tell by the impatient rapping it is RJ, ready and raring to go. 

Dean and I get dressed before opening the door and rejoining our family. Sam gives us both knowing grins, which I later find out is because he heard us fucking and actually jacked off to the sounds.

Thankfully the kids all slept through it all. That would be a terrible way to start a vacation! 

A/N: Lil fun fact for you. The analogy Dean uses for Lisa is something my brother-in-law said once and it kinda just stuck with me. He was an idiot. R.I.P. 

@lostinaseaoffictionalbliss @spnbaby-67 @tftumblin @sea040561 @delightfullykrispypeach @larajadeschmidt13 @atc74 @vicariouslythruspn @squirrelnotsam @death-unbecomes-you @sandlee44 @blacktithe7 @hoboal87 @mogaruke​ @deanwanddamons​ @onethirstyunicorn​ @supraveng​ @deandreamernp​ @akshi8278​

[aewhore]

So can you do a Triple H x fem!reader. (WWF days).Where the reader and Triple H have been together for the past like three years,but Vince wants reader in a storyline with Eddie Guerrero (I actually love Eddie so could you make it where Eddie is kind of a good guy).And Triple H in a storyline with Stephanie.So after a few mouths,It’s time for wrestlemania and The two are put in a indergender match against each other.But Triple H has a different plan and the reader ends up battling Stephanie before Triple H proposes to her in the ring,exposing their relationship.

You’re the one for me ~ Triple H x Reader (request by the wonderfully beautiful @mrsbaszler ) Hope you like it!! 

Flying from arena to arena to perform as a wrestler felt like a dream come true no matter how many times you had done it. You had just touched down in North Carolina and were checking into your hotel room. It was nearly midnight and Monday night raw was tomorrow so as you made your way up to your room, your mind was racing with the storylines and matches you will have in the coming week. You throw your bags down once you enter the room but you don’t even get to settle in before your phone rings, You pick it up expecting it to be Trish to talk about your champion match tomorrow. You’re pleasantly surprised to see it’s Hunter Hearst Helmsley himself.   

“Hello beautiful.” the smooth voice of Triple H brings a smile to your face. “Fancy hearing from you so late hot stuff” You hear him chuckle through the phone. “Oh, I’m the hot stuff now? Do you know how hard it is to see you looking so beautiful walking through the hotel lobby and have to hold myself back from grabbing a piece?” You and trips had been dating for nearly three years now but had never gone public with it as you both knew it would have negative repercussions on both your careers. “Why don’t you come down here and grab a piece right now?” There was silence as Hunter contemplated your proposition. “Listen. Baby, I’m in room 234. I’m heading for a shower if you’d like to join me.” You know you now have him in the palm of your hand. “Jesus, Y/N you sure don’t make it easy for me do you? … Fuck it! I’m on my way.” You break out into a sly grin as Hunter hangs up the phone. You’re quick to strip off your clothes and wrap yourself in a towel as you enter the bathroom to turn on the shower to get the temperature just right. You hear a heavy knock on the door as the water warms up. You damn near run to the door in excitement to see your man.  

You take a breath at the door before opening it to see Hunter in a tight black t-shirt that shows off his wide muscular chest and broad shoulders as well as blue jeans that barely contain his thick thighs. “Oh hello there gorgeous stranger” You sexily remark as you move aside to allow him into the hotel room. He closes the door behind him as you walk towards the bathroom. “Come on, cutie, this way” you tease when you realize you’ve reached the bathroom and Hunter has barely entered the room. To entice him, even more, yourself so he can only see your face past the door of the bathroom as you take off the towel and throw it at Hunter’s chest. “Oh, now you’re in for it now” You hear Hunter growl as you get into the shower finally.  

Existing the shower and getting dried off after You and Hunter’s escapade proved difficult on shaky legs. “Need a hand there, sweetheart.” Hunter jokes as you feel him pick you up bridal style to walk you towards the king bed in the center of the room. “Oh thank you, my knight, in shining armor!” you laugh into Hunter’s neck before he sets you down onto the soft cotton sheets of the bed.  He throws a shirt and pants towards you as he dresses before Hunter sits on the edge of the bed beside your legs. Your hands roam up Hunter’s biceps to his traps and then roam back down his muscular back. Hunter visibly relaxes under your touch as he releases all the tension that was previously being held in his shoulders. “Penny for your thoughts Champ” You speak quietly, Hunter turns towards you, deep hazel eyes meeting your own. “Listen, gorgeous, Vince called me earlier about a potential storyline for me” You’re confused at Hunter’s serious tone, he’s the world champion of course he’s going to have storylines. You nod at him to continue. He releases a deep sign before continuing. “It's a romance storyline doll… with Stephanie” You’re taken aback by this. Is he serious? Of all people, it just had to be Stephanie! You and Stephanie had never gotten along, ever since you joined WWF but you both did your best to stay professional by pretending the other doesn’t exist.  

“Oh Okay. So is this a definite thing? Like when does it start?” You’re hopeful that the storyline is still in the idea stage and not the final plan. However, the look on Hunter’s face tells you that your hopes are about to be dashed. “I’m sorry doll, it’s starting tomorrow. You know you have nothing to worry about with me, doll. So don’t look so sad” You give Hunter a small smile before you speak again. “Hunter, It’s not you that I worry about getting notions from this storyline.” You don’t have to say it but the look on Hunter’s face shows that he understands what you’re implying. You know Hunter and Stephanie had a fling together before you came onto the scene, you knew that Hunter loved you dearly but you just couldn’t trust the younger McMahon. “I know that, doll. I’m just trying my best here to put that pretty little head at rest.” You can’t help but laugh at Hunter’s confession. “Listen, baby. You know I’ll be okay. It’s just a storyline after all. I love you.” Hunter kisses your forehead once you finish speaking. “Exactly baby, it’s just a storyline. Nothing more. I love you” You couldn’t stop yourself from melting into Hunter as his hand comes to hold your jaw to maintain eye contact. “I love you too baby, do you want to stay here tonight?” fatigue was setting into your bones so you were itching to go to sleep. “You know I’d love to stay doll, but I have to get back to my room. I’m going to the gym with Michaels in the morning. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, beautiful. Gimme a kiss before I leave.” He brings his other hand up to enclose your jaw between his hands as you both lean into each other. When your lips crash against Hunter’s the passion from your lover takes your breath away. It’s only quick but you adore having these brief displays of affection. Hunter is standing and moving towards the door before you can even blink. Hunter stops at the door to turn back briefly. “Goodnight doll.” he winks at you as you reply. “Goodnight Hotstuff” Once you hear the door click closed, you tuck yourself into bed, trying your best to forget about this new storyline as you fall asleep. 

Monday night Raw is always hectic backstage, the hustle and bustle of it being too much for some people but you loved it because it meant there was always something new to be excited about. However not everything new is good, this applied to right now. You sat gobsmacked into the writer’s room. You were being told what storylines you were going to be involved in and it must be the season of love because you were now being written into a romance storyline with your good friend Eddie Guerrero. You weren’t happy to be in a romance storyline but you couldn’t be mad at who you were involved with. Eddie was always respectful and like an older brother to you with how he would help you train and prepare for matches. “ Ay Chiquita, You feeling okay?” You smile at how good of a friend Eddie is to you. “I’m okay Ed, it’s just a storyline. Let’s go out there and kill it, yeah?”  You give him the biggest smile you can muster up. “That’s what I’m talking about Chica! I’ll see you later for our segment!” Eddie returns with his signature million-watt smile before turning to leave. You lift the script that’s in your hand and roll your eyes at the cliché romance scenarios the creative team has written you and Eddie into.  

The time ticks by as you prepare for your segment with Eddie and your title defense against Trish later on. You’re lost in thought as you make your way through the halls in the arena. You nearly jump out of your skin when you feel someone grab your arm and drag you towards a more subdued part of the backstage area. You’re prepared to scream and start throwing punches before you realize it’s Hunter. “Jesus Hunter, a warning would be lovely.” you hiss at your lover. “Sorry doll, I just needed to see you before your bug match later on” You roll your eyes at Hunter before you break out into a smile. “I’ve been meaning to catch you. I just came from a writer’s meeting and I have a new storyline, me and Eddie. It’s not what I’d love to be doing but it doesn’t look that bad in the script anyway.” You calmly explain to Hunter. “Oh great.” Hunter sounds less than impressed which shocks you. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Hunter rolled his eyes as if you were supposed to know the answer already. “Eddie’s my number one contender Y/N, and I have good money to say he’ll be my mania match. I just don’t want you to be in his corner if he is my mania match, you know?” Hunter spoke gently as you could his worry about seeing you in his opponent’s corner in his eyes. You smile at Hunter as a nervous, softer side to him you don’t see very often comes out. “Don’t worry Hunter, I doubt this will last longer than 4 weeks.”  

Oh, how naïve you were. You greatly underestimated that since you and Eddie were both fan favourites, that people would fall in love with the storyline of the two of you being in love. So Vince decided to keep the storyline going for as long as possible as well as continuing Stephanie and Hunters partnership as they were creating nuclear levels of heat together. Mania season was upon you and the tension between Hunter and Eddie was building and building as their inevitable clash for Hunter’s title came closer and closer by the day. You don’t have time to worry about the guys since Stephanie is your number one contender for the women’s championship despite her not being a full-time wrestler Vince wanted her and Hunter to be the power couple but you and Eddie weren’t going to let that happen, even if you did selfishly want Hunter to keep his title because damn he looked good with it. 

It was time for Monday night raw two weeks ahead of Wrestle mania. Hunter and Eddie had a contract signing to make the match official. You would be escorting Eddie out to the ring since Hunter would have Stephanie in his corner. It was all going to plan before Stephanie slapped Eddie out of nowhere, Before Hunter could hold her back you had launched yourself at her in defense of your (storyline) man. You feel Eddie try to drag you away but Hunter attacks him leaving the signing in complete chaos. You see the officials run out to attempt to pull the brawls apart. They successfully pull apart you and Stephanie but you see Hunter and Eddie still going at it. You feel your eyes bug out of your head when you see blood flowing freely down Hunter’s face from his nose much to the chagrin of the audience getting to see an early glimpse of comeuppance on Hunter. You see the locker room empty as they try and succeed to pull Eddie and Hunter apart. You assume this will be the end of it but then you hear Vince’s music hit. Oh no! You’re in trouble now. “That’s it! I’ve had it! At WrestleMania, this ends once and for all! In the main event of WrestleMania, all of you will face off in an intergender match where the winner takes all! Yes, that means whoever wins will walk away with their genders respective title.”  You’re completely shocked as your eyes dart from Eddie to Hunter to Stephanie and back again.   

Preparing for your WrestleMania match was difficult since you didn’t get alone time with Hunter at all and your stress levels were on overdrive. However, the adrenaline kicked in immediately as you and Eddie made your entrance together. Looking down the ramp as you strutted down the ramp with Eddie by your side and your title firmly around your waist. You couldn’t let yourself become distracted by the fact Hunter was in the match. As you enter the ring you glare at Stephanie before looking to Hunter to catch him sending you a quick wink. You roll your eyes before turning towards your corner to take off your title and prepare for the square up before the bell. The atmosphere in the arena was electric as the four of you stood off against each other before you all decided to allow the men to start the match. Watching your on-screen partner fight your actual partner had your heart in your throat as you cheered for Eddie but you couldn’t shake the worry festering in the pit of your stomach. Seeing your men go hell for leather against each other entertained you and stressed you out to no end so you had your hand stretched out for Eddie to tag you in as soon as possible to end your suffering.  

Feeling Eddie’s hand slap against sent a bolt of pure lightning through your veins as you charge against Stephanie with the sole goal to end this match on the spot as your heart can’t take this match anymore. Your plan wasn’t going to plan as Stephanie put up a heck of a fight. However, you tried to run the ropes to clothesline her but she rolled out under the bottom rope on the opposite side of the ring to her own. You follow her without leaving the ring, you can hear the crowd erupt in roars as Stephanie smiles up at you before motioning for you to look behind you. Fear fills your body as you brace yourself for an attack from behind. However, upon turning around you don’t see your impending doom but instead, you see Hunter down on one knee in the centre of the ring in front of you. “Y/N I love you to the moon and back, Will you make me the happiest man alive and marry me?” Once you lock eyes with Hunter’s it’s like the entire arena fades away and it's just the two of you, this is your moment and you couldn’t be happier. You don’t even have to think about it before you're nodding your head and saying yes what feels like a thousand times. Hunter slides the ring onto your finger before standing up to pull you into the most passionate and loving kiss you’ve ever experienced in your life.

[txtdiaries]

Momentum - Chapter Three

SUMMARY |  After a month of static noise and not seeing Choi Soobin, he finally turns up at your door. However, something he doesn’t expect when he finally sees you is a fight and a new man making his way into your life. 

PAIRING | Soobin X Reader

CATEGORY | college au, crush, slow burn, fight, angst, etc.

WORD COUNT | 1.9k

WARNINGS | swearing, ANGST, bitterness lol.

SONG REC |

PLAYLIST | momentum playlist

Preview / Chapter One / Chapter Two / Chapter Three / Chapter Four

A/N: Very short chapter, I’ll be posting another chapter later in the week. Also ya gurl didn’t proofread, bc I’m too out of it for that, lmao. Enjoy!

A month.

It has been an entire month since you have heard anything from Choi Soobin, and you’d be worried if you weren’t so absolutely pissed off.

His last text has gone from comforting to annoying, and now whenever you glance at it during the odd hours of the morning (you dwell in his messages at 3 am, reading but never replying), it makes you feel sick.

I’ve been studying, working, and going off campus a ton lately. I’ll get back to you when I can. I’m sorry.

But apparently, he wasn’t that sorry. Not sorry enough to respond within the entire month of December, and now campus is coated in a thick layer of snow. The weeks flew by. No word from Soobin, whatsoever. Now that you think about it, pissed off might be the understatement of the year.

This is why, during a Friday night study session cooped up in your dorm room, the last person you expect to see is the one and only Choi Soobin; standing outside your door, looking guilty as all hell.

You didn’t have enough raspberry iced tea in your system to be able to handle it.

“Hi.” He says, voice hopeful for an entire second before he’s back to frowning.

You look him up and down before meeting his eyes again. You don’t reply.

“Can I come in?” He speaks again, looking over your shoulder, presumably at the clutter of study materials on your desk and bed. You’re still wordless, debating on whether or not you should actually let Soobin in. Realistically and metaphorically.

The longer you look up at him, the more on edge he gets. He’s starting to shift his weight and bite at the skin of his lips before you finally step aside. He’s just crossed the threshold between the hallway and your room before he’s talking again.

“I’m just gonna say it - and I just want you to listen - I’m gone a lot.”

You close the door and brush past him, deciding in the moment to not look at him anymore. He knows. Okay. So, you’d prefer to stare at the white walls than into his eyes now. Because he knows, and he’s known the whole time. It doesn’t make it sting any less.

“I don’t reply to your messages and we don’t go on dates anymore like we used to. I know that, Y/N.”

He continues, “I just… I study. I have a job, I see my roommates and my friends. I have honor’s society, and clubs, and all the other stuff that I deal with on a daily basis, and it makes it really really hard to breathe, let alone have free time sometimes.”

“You’re gone a lot.” You confirm, knowing that both you and Soobin know he never has free time, “That much is clear.”

“No that’s not-” Soobin backtracks, suddenly running his hands over his face before he takes a deep breath. You can practically feel him gathering his thoughts.

“Everything else aside, I have you in my life now.”

You finally meet his eyes and you feel yourself deflate. You notice the bags under his, the dark skin showing how close he is to finally shutting down. You notice the unkept strands of his hair you failed to notice before. The way his hoodie strings are pulled unevenly, and how one of his shoes isn’t even tied all the way. It all falls into place.

“I have you and you matter to me.”

It’s silent for a few moments, and you don’t know if it’s your turn to speak.

“I like you and you scare the fuck out of me, Y/N. I don’t do this, and especially with someone like you I- It’s terrifying. It’s terrifying because I have all these things I always have to upkeep, and I have no real prior knowledge on relationships at all, and I already know I fucked up.”

You let him continue.

“I fucked up so bad and the longer it got, the worse it felt to even try to justify what I did. You can’t even guess how many times I paced outside your door at midnight trying to build up the courage to just knock.”

“Is this your way of apologizing, or just feeding me with excuses?”

Your words slice through the air and they make Soobin fall quiet. You expect to feel worse after saying them, but you don’t. A fucking month. You sigh internally.

“I’m not-”

“It doesn’t take over a month to text someone again, Soobin. I don’t expect all your time - hell, I barely have time, but it’s not hard to send someone a single text back!”

For a flash, you feel like you could be going overboard

“I didn’t come here to argue with you, Y/N.”

“Just came expecting me to accept your apology right off the bat, then?”

This shuts Soobin up, and you suddenly realize how heavy you’re breathing.

“Get out.”

You don’t know if it’s the best idea you’ve ever had, but looking at him is only fueling your anger. You can feel your pulse racing under your skin.

“W-what?” He asks incredulously, “You aren’t even letting me explain-”

“You had a fucking month to explain. You had hours and days and weeks, to explain, Soobin. You’re too late.”

Soobin opens his mouth to try explaining again, to try and convince you his reasoning behind ignoring you for so long, but the words never leave his lips.

Without another word, he lets his head hang low in acceptance. Soobin turns, takes a few long strides to your door, and exits.

Once he’s gone, you finally allow yourself to break down.

He didn’t even hesitate.

It is nearly past the month of January when you finally feel yourself start to get into the groove of things again. You took a week to reset, did some self care, and even bought a new outfit. As far as anyone was concerned, you were flushing Soobin out of your system. At least, that’s what you kept telling yourself.

It is a Thursday afternoon when you see Soobin again. You signed up for an art class to fill a gen-ed elective, and even though the drop date was just around the corner, you hadn’t expected any new students to enroll this far into the month.

Cue the headache.

Soobin takes his seat across the room from you, and you aren’t even sure he sees you in the first place because of how he keeps his eyes down. If he does, you’re none the wiser.

“We’re working in pairs today on your watercolor pieces. Please get your canvases and paints from the back and try to keep the noise to a minimum.” Your instructor informs the class. You were genuinely excited for this class when you signed up, and art was something you enjoyed occasionally. You decide to just ignore Soobin. If he doesn’t care, you don’t have to either.

“Do you want me to get your canvas for you?” A voice suddenly asks to your left. You perk up at the sound and meet eyes with a boy you’ve never met before.

His hair is dark and parted down the middle, and his features are pretty. You’re surprised for a few seconds before you finally speak.

“Oh- it’s okay, I can get it.”

The boy shakes his head, his bangs fluffing around a bit, “It’s no trouble really, I can carry two.”

“What about the paint?” You ask nicely.

The boy hums for a second before grinning, “Okay, new plan. I get the canvases, you get the paint.”

This makes you giggle. Before you can overthink it, you’re nodding and standing with him, stepping around other students to make your way to the back of the room where all the supplies lie.

“By the way-” He says, leaning his head down a bit so you can hear him better in the already loud room, “-I’m Heeseung. Lee Heeseung.”

You extend your hand and watch as Heeseung chuckles a bit. He shakes your hand politely.

“Y/N. Nice to meet you, Heeseung.”

The next hour of class is spent mixing paints and trying to complete your project as Heeseung sneakily tries to smear paint on your skin. Only near the end of class do you two actually chat without painting simultaneously, brushes already put away.

“So what’s your major?” Heeseung asks you softly, chin propped in the palm of his hand as he looks at you kindly.

“Visual Communication with an emphasis in Design.”

“That’s really cool!” He says, eyes wide. Heeseung is kind, this you’ve learned over the past hour. Friendly and kind. You really feel like he’s a good guy.

“Thank you,” You grin at him, “What about you?”

“Music Production and Dance.” He says easily. It’s your turn to be surprised. Of course, he had the physique for it, but you were still really impressed. You wouldn’t have guessed music or dance.

“Okay that’s way cooler than mine! Do you do dance club or anything too?”

Heeseung suddenly turns bashful, nodding a bit, “Something like that, yeah.”

Your attention is suddenly pulled away from him as the professor speaks up again, announcing that class is dismissed for the day. You’re about to take your canvas to the back to dry, but Heeseung has already gathered it in his hand carefully, along with his own in the other.

He smiles at you again before turning and walking toward the drying rack, leaving you alone. You take this opportunity to finally let your eyes wander the room, meeting eyes with the last person you’d expect to be watching you.

Soobin’s face is stoic, but his eyes are ablaze. You know that he just saw the entire ordeal with Heeseung, and it wouldn’t surprise you if he had seen it the entire class. It’s awkward to say the least, and you don’t know how long you can hold his gaze as he blinks back at you.

“Everything okay?” Heeseung asks innocently when he gets back, moving to put his backpack over his shoulders. You can only imagine how stressed out you look.

“Yeah, everything’s good.” You shake off the feeling and look back up at him, nodding.

Heeseung smiles and then tilts his head a bit, “I was wondering if you wanted to do something sometime. Do you like coffee?”

You weren’t used to boys asking you out so easily, and it takes you aback for a moment. You know Heeseung means well, but you can’t help but feel a twinge of pain in your heart. The last person who asked you out like this was Soobin, and the irony that he is watching this all go down from across the room is not lost on you.

“I… I like coffee.” You reply, smiling at Heeseung. He looks relieved after hearing your words.

“How does Saturday sound?” He asks, pulling out his phone. You nod and type your number into the device before passing it back to him, “Saturday’s great.”

“Great,” He nods, smiling fully now. You notice how nice his teeth are momentarily, before meeting his eyes again. They are half crescents, adorably endearing as he beams down at you. You take a deep breath.

“It was nice to meet you, Y/N. I’ll see you on Saturday.” And then he’s turning on his heel and walking out of the class, leaving you smiling still.

It’s less than thirty seconds before your phone vibrates in your back pocket, and you’re positive it’s Heeseung. Instead of reaching for your phone, though, you stand there, eyes staring at the now vacant chair across the room.

The room is fully empty now, and you’re left completely alone.

[angst-fairygodmother]

Can I request a fluffy little fic with Klaus? And like he’s always super supportive even if he doesn’t quite understand what you’re doing, he’s kinda always like “fuck yeah look at you go!” I could really use the love lol

A/N: Hey Nonny. I didn’t know what sort of things you meant, so I defaulted to what’s familiar for me: the struggles of higher education.  I hope you enjoy it, and that whatever you’re doing, you know it’s amazing because you’re doing it 😊 Word Count: 1944 Content Warning: mild language, brief references to drugs

You groaned, your head hitting the table as you stared down at your circled answer, the wrong answer again. You were determined to keep taking this practice test until you got it right, until all of the answers felt like second nature. Except you kept making the same mistakes over and over again instead. 

Your pen sailed through the air, causing your best friend, and eternal headache, to duck with a chuckle as it clattered against the wall. 

“I see studying's going well,” he teased, walking further into the room.

“Klaus Hargreeves, unless one of the assortment of pills I just know are in your pocket right now is a magic one that will help me remember this shit, I say this in the most heartfelt and loving way possible: piss off.”

He pressed his hand to his chest dramatically. 

“Exqueeze me?” he trilled, “I come to make sure you’re alive, as you’ve not been seen in days, and this is the thanks I get?”

“I’m serious Klaus,” you sighed, running a hand through your tangled hair. “I need to study.”

He looked you over, taking in the bags under your eyes, your rumpled clothing, the sag of your shoulders. You were overworking yourself, as self-destructive in your own way as he was in his, and it pained him to see. 

“You need a break,” he said, crossing over to you and sweeping you up in his arms, toppling your chair in the process and surprising you with the strength hidden in his arms. 

“Klaus,” you whined, struggling ineffectively from your position pinned to his chest in a bridal carry. “No, I don’t have time for a break right now. Especially not the kind you mean.”

He sat down on your bed, keeping you in his lap and began carefully finger-combing through the knots in your hair.

“I have no ulterior motive, mademoiselle,” he hummed. “Only your wellbeing in mind. Relax with me for one hour,” the worst of your knots gone, he laid down, tugging at your arm to try and get you to join him. “And I will leave you alone for the rest of the night, or even help you to study, if you want.”

“I don’t want...chemical aids.”

He scoffed. “Who do you take me for? I know you better than that.”

“Then how could you help me? You don’t know anything about the material. Or testing.”

“I’ll...hold up your charming little flash cards, or read you the questions. I don’t know. Sit next to you and cheer enthusiastically whenever you get a question right and burn the whole book if it claims you’re wrong?”

You couldn’t help the giggle that slipped out, and were glad of it when he flashed you that dazzling grin. The longer you sat, awkwardly leaning and half in his arms, the harder it became to resist his temptation.

“Fine, one hour,” you said, attempting to be stern as you relented, curling up against his chest.

“No more, no less. And then we shall study until our eyeballs fall out,” he promised, fingers crossed behind your back as he held you.

~

Your hands shook nervously and you thought for sure you were going to sweat through your blazer as you paced the hallway outside the small lecture hall. You checked the notes you had tucked in your pocket and licked your lips to try and wet them, not that your equally dry mouth and tongue made much difference. 

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen of the board, distinguished faculty, and guests,” you muttered for what felt like the seven-hundredth time today. “No, that sounds stupid. Why am I calling the faculty distinguished but not the board or the guests? Maybe I should just do ‘good evening ladies and gentlemen of the board, faculty, and guests,’ but that sounds weird too.”

You flopped against the wall, groaning in frustration. This presentation was the moment, your time to shine, or to crash and burn, dictating potentially the entire rest of your career. And public speaking was not your strong suit. 

“Y/N?” your advisor said, poking her head out into the hall and giving you what was surely meant to be a reassuring smile. “They’re ready for you now.”

You took a deep, shaky breath. “Okay, thanks, Linda. I’ll be right in.”

This was your thesis you were about to defend. You had spent more than a year researching and writing it. So why did you suddenly feel like you knew less than the day you walked into your first “101” class? 

“Time to face the executioner,” you muttered to yourself, squaring your shoulders and walking in behind Linda, feet carrying you slowly down the aisle to the podium. 

You paused, taking a moment to arrange your notes and scan the crowd, looking for someone who looked friendly and unassuming, maybe a kindly librarian type, to focus on while you spoke.

Instead you locked eyes with a familiar, wholly unexpected pair of green eyes. You frowned, about to call out and ask what the hell Klaus thought he was doing here, when you remembered exactly where here was. You cleared your throat and tried to school your face to be placidly blank.

“Good evening,” you started, gaze still fixed on his face. “I would like to thank everyone for their time and attendance, um here, um today.” 

‘You’ve got this,’ he mouthed silently.

You smiled, launching into your presentation proper with gusto. 

Every time you felt yourself hesitating or fumbling, you sought him again, and his awed little smile bolstered you, reminding you of all the late nights he had spent up with you, watching you from your bed as you paced the room or sat hunched at a desk, thinking out loud or talking to him about it all, offering little suggestions (never that helpful) or affirmations (always very helpful) occasionally, just to remind you that he was there, for you. 

Before you knew it, your time was up and you exited the room to a smattering of applause. Out in the hall, a pair of warm arms wrapped around you from behind and lips were planted on your cheek. 

“That was brilliant! You were brilliant!” Klaus said enthusiastically before dropping his voice to purr in your ear. “And the whole ‘genius’ thing is very sexy.”

You felt your cheeks blush heatedly. “I’m not a genius, Klaus.”

“Well I had no idea what you were saying, other than super smart stuff, so I disagree.”

You slid out of his arms, although he did manage to keep one circling your waist, and started walking, planning to stop at the 24 hour cafe on campus for a quick pick-me-up and then head home. Klaus followed, holding you as close as you’d let him, planning to go anywhere and everywhere you wanted and nowhere else.

“How do you know it was super smart then, if you didn’t know what it was?”

“Because I know you, and you’re the smartest person in the world.”

“I am not,” you countered, giving him a gentle shove, blushing even harder now. 

“And because all those stuffy old academic types in there were impressed.”

“You think so?” you asked hopefully. 

You felt like you couldn’t get a read on the room the whole time you were presenting, and their questions had been extremely critical. 

His eyes twinkled as he stared down at you. “I know so.”

~

Before you knew it, graduation had crept up on you. You sat in the hard plastic chair in the stuffy canvas pavilion, surrounded by all of your classmates, and waited. It had been hours, and would be hours more, and you just wanted it to be over. No one was there for you, no one cared if you even got this diploma. You could probably slip out the back and be gone before anyone realized, the only sign of your absence the awkward pause when your name was read. 

It had always been this way, all through your schooling. Your parents didn’t really understand your career choice, or didn’t have time to come for campus events. You didn’t have a lot of friends due to the demands of your program, and your own innate awkwardness. Instead of being a celebration of your achievements, graduation felt like another reminder of how alone you were, how most people would never remember you unless you did something embarrassing like trip and fall off the stage. 

Making excuses and muttering apologies, you slipped out past the rest of your row of fellow graduates and out into the fresh air and bright light of the campus lawn. You breathed a deep sigh of relief, taking off your mortarboard hat and unzipping the robe-like graduation gown about half way. 

“Y/N?” you jumped at the sound of Klaus’s voice, not expecting him to be here of all places, and especially not coming out of the tent you had just exited moments ago.

“Klaus!” you gasped, hugging him. “What...what are you doing here?”

“I came to see you, obviously,” he said, booping the end of your nose. “So when I saw you looking like you might be making a break for it, I followed.”

“Oh.” You were flattered that he would attend or managed to spot and recognize you in the sea of identically dressed co-eds, confused how he’d found out the date and time, and a little annoyed that you’d been caught. 

“Were you running away?”

“They can mail me my diploma,” you said with a shrug. It wasn’t quite an answer, but it said everything it needed to.

“Y/N,” he sighed, placing his hands on your shoulders. “You know I don’t understand all this college, academic, brilliance stuff. But I know it’s supposed to be special and important and one of those things you’ll always remember.”

“Because it’s supposed to be a celebration. Only I don’t feel like celebrating alone.”

“Well, you’re not, are you?”

“My classmates don’t count. I barely know them.”

“I meant me.” He leaned down, pressing his forehead to yours. “You’re not alone, because I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

You smiled softly, staring into his green eyes, so tender and full of love, as you remembered all of the times he had been there already: how he’d gone to the post office and held your hand when you mailed out applications, how he’d listened to you practice for your admissions interviews for days on end, every late night study session and “study” session, every distraction from anxiously awaiting a grade, pulling you up when you sank into a slump or felt like a failure and cheering you on for your highs and successes. Klaus had never been through formal schooling, had no desire to for all that he was clever. But even though he never knew what the hell was going on, he was there for you through it. 

“I should have known that,” you murmured. “After all, you always have been before.”

“Even geniuses can’t know everything,” he countered with a shrug and a smirk, before leaning down to press your lips together softly. 

You wrapped your arms around his neck, stretching up on your toes to bring you closer to him as his hands slid down from your shoulders to rest on your waist, an embrace as much as a kiss. You became dimly aware of the sound of applause from inside, signalling the end (finally) of the current speaker. Reluctantly, you pulled away.

“I guess I should probably get back in there,” you sighed. 

“Only if you want to,” he said, thumbs tracing circles on your sides. “I’ll support you either way.”

[inlovewithfictionals]

Be True Pt.2 (Jason Todd x Reader)

A/n: I half-wrote this a month ago, but then I decided to make it Christmas themed. And so here it is, the part two to I Need You Alive. Another thing, I have 0 experience on “meet the parents” thing so this might not be that realistic :’)

Keys: Y/H/T: Your Hometown, Y/M: Your Mum, Y/D: Your Dad

Genre: Fluff, duh.

Warning(s): Jason is most likely a bit OOC (I’m not so sure where to put the Todd into a family meeting, forgive me.), I didn’t proofread this yet so beware the spelling or grammar mistakes.

That being said, I hope you enjoy this!

Word Count: 1903

   Snowy road, a small morning light shines, Christmas songs on the radio, a calm and comfortable silence between Y/N and Jason in the car. At least for Y/N. Jason on the other hand, he’s nervous.

   The two are on the way to Y/N’s parents’ house. They had planned this a few months back, but due to Jason being Red Hood and needing to help the Batfam, they had to hold it back. And finally, here they are. On the way to Y/H/T for Christmas. And Jason as I said earlier is nervous.

   His body is a little tense, hands gripping the steering wheel, traces of worry on his face. It wasn’t until he let out an audible sigh when Y/N notices that her boyfriend is in distress.

   “Jaybird, what’s wrong?” She asked, putting a hand on his shoulder.

   “Huh? Oh nothing.” Jason hesitantly answered.

   Y/N’s brows creased, tilting her head slightly. And then a small smile shows on her face, “Anxious? Nervous again? I thought I already said that my parents likes you?”

   “But I never met them in person. What if the first official impression is bad? They’d change their minds.” He let out another sigh, slowing the car down when he realized that he’s gone a bit too fast on his anxious state.

   After a moment of focusing on the road ahead, he heard Y/N giggles. Jason glanced at her for a while before he turn back to the road. “What? What is it?” He asked.

   “Nothing, it’s just- you’re THE Red Hood, you fight crimes at night like a badass, gone on dangerous missions and such with Batman and the others, and yet here you are afraid of meeting my parents.”

   “I’m not ‘afraid.’ I’m just worried.” He argued.

   Y/N puts her hand that was previously on Jason’s shoulder on her mouth to stop herself from letting out a laugh, which didn’t really work since Jason could still hear her. Nonetheless, he chuckled along with her. “Okay, fine. I’m a little afraid. Just a little.”

   Y/N’s laugh dies down as she shakes her head, “There’s nothing to be afraid of. My parents are chill. Sometimes strict, but they’re nice people. Besides, it’s just for a day. Trust me when I say you’ll be fine, you big dork.” She chuckles, leaning to his side to kiss his cheek and give him a reassuring smile. Jason’s shoulder falls in a relieved manner. He nods slowly, indicating to Y/N that he’s okay now. Well, at least, better than before.

   “Okay. I’m alright. I’m Jason Peter Todd, the second Robin and now Red Hood, and I’m gonna meet your parents and they’re gonna fucking like me!” His voice gets louder and more energetic on each word he says.

   “That’s the fucking spirit, Todd!” Y/N announced.

   Once again, both of them goes on to another laughing session.

   This might not be as bad as I thought, Jason thinks.

. . . .

   They arrived at Y/N’s parents’ house just a few hours later around 11 AM. Given the fact that there was not a lot of traffic jams and the snow is not pouring like that scene from Frozen.

   Jason parked the car and turn down the engines. He takes a deep breath, turning his head to Y/N, who’s taking off her seatbelt and wrapping her neck and half of her face with a scarf.

   “Are you ready?” She asked.

   “Yeah. Yeah, I’m ready.”

   With that, they stepped out of the car and walks to the front door. Y/N knocked the door a few times, “Mum, Dad! I’m- we’re home!”

   There are rushing-footsteps sounds coming from inside of the house, followed by a small and cheerful, “It’s them! Coming!”

   The door opens to reveal a friendly looking woman wearing a cream coloured sweater and some comfortable black pants. Her face lights up even brighter when she looked at Y/N and Jason. The woman then rushed to hug Y/N with an enthusiastic laugh.

   “Y/N! You’re here! Oh and merry Christmas, sweetheart!”

   “Merry Christmas to you too, mum. Missed you. Sorry we took so long to visit.” Y/N said hugging her back.

   “Oh it’s fine. I know how busy you are.” Her mum smiled at her. She takes a look at Jason for a second, before she went up to him and hugging him as well. “You must be the guy Y/N is whipped for. She talks a lot about you. That explains why I was eager for you to visit. Also, merry Christmas, Jason!”

   A subtle blush shows on Jason’s face. Maybe it’s the cold, maybe it’s the fact that Y/N’s mum said that her daughter talks about him to her parents. His tense body slowly ease into her embrace, a smile shows up on his face. “Merry Christmas, Mrs. Y/L/N. Sorry for making you wait.”

   “Again, its fine, Jason. All is well here, no worries! And please, call me Y/M. Don’t be so formal.” She smiles at Jason. Even on this cold day, like Y/N’s, Y/M’s smile is capable of warming him. Ah, so that’s where she inherited the personality from.

   “Now come on, brunch is ready!”

   Y/M opens the door wider and made a motion with her hands for Y/N and Jason to come in. They took off their beanies, scarfs, outer jackets, and puts them on the hanger inside, beside the door.

   “Y/D? They’re here!” Y/M announced as she walks to the kitchen with Jason and Y/N trailing behind.

   “Wait! I haven’t put on my sweater!” A male voice replied from the living room.

    Y/N stops her track and peep her head into the living room to see her dad standing up from the couch just after he puts the sweater on. He was wearing a classic green-red-white Christmas themed sweater with little snowmen on it and a pair of dark grey pants.

   “Dad! Merry Christmas!” She made her way to her father’s embrace.

   “Merry Christmas, little one.” Much like her mum, he has a friendly face decorated with a grin. “Is he here?”

   The girl nodded and turns her head towards Jason who was waiting by the entrance. He realized that they were waiting for him, so he took soft but quick steps to them. Y/N grabs his arm and pull it close. Sort of like she’s hugging Jason’s arm.

   “Dad, this is Jason. The one you ‘want to intimidate.’”

   “Nice to meet you, Mr. Y/L/N.” Jason says, putting his right arm for Y/D to shake.

   Y/D completely ignores the hand and sling his arm on Jason’s shoulder as Y/N lets him go. His eyebrows scrunched, looking at Jason like he’s inspecting him to see if he’s a good news or bad news. Once again, Jason feels afraid under his stare. But that feeling was quickly wiped away when Y/D smiles at him and shaking his hand.

   “Just Y/D is okay. Nice to meet you, Jason! Are you treating her right?” He asked, patting him and nods his head to Y/N.

   “I sure hope I am. Y/N, what do you think?”

   “Eh, you’re okay.” She teased.

   Jason fake gasped while Y/D snickered. “How could you say that? After everything we’ve been through!”

   “I’m joking! He’s amazing, dad.” She laughed.

   “Good, as expected then. Now come eat your foods! It’s not staying warm forever you know?” Y/M’s voice called from the living room entrance where Jason was standing before. She was leaning on the frame, with her hands crossed like a mother who’s playfully scolding her 5 year old. Or- olds.

   All of them then went to the kitchen and sit in the dining area. They shared random lighthearted conversations. At times, Y/N’s parents asked Jason about himself which Jason had to answer without telling them about his nighttime persona. In the middle of the whole funny, embarrassing, or adventurous stories they share, Y/N puts her hand on Jason’s thigh and squeeze it lightly to get his attention.

   “See? They like you.” She whispered to him. Jason just gave her a cocky smile, “of course they do.”

   “Bold thing to say for someone who’s afraid to go here a few hours ago.”

   “That was natural reaction, Y/L/N.” He whispered back,

   “Sure. Whatever you say, Red Hood.” She leans closer to his ear and whispered more quietly on the last part so that her parents won’t hear.

   “I swear, if you’re gonna compare the Red Hood me and THIS me again…” Y/N just giggled at him making her parents look at them with fond smiles.

. . . .

   What was supposed to be an hour brunch turned into 3 hours. They got caught into the conversations. Plus, Y/M feels the need to show Jason Y/N’s old pictures to which Jason took pics of and he definitely sends it to Grayson.

   Now Jason and Y/D are sharing hot chocolate in the living room while the girls are in the kitchen tidying things up while chit-chatting happily. Girl things probably…

   Jason stares at Y/N from his seat. As cliché as it sounds, the light coming from the window made her look pretty almost like a scene from a movie. Not that she’s not pretty before, but right now she’s exceptionally pretty. She’s not perfect, physically nor mentally. He knows that. And he wouldn’t have it any other way.  As he smiled at her, she smiled back before continuing her talk with her mum.

   “You really love her, don’t you?” Y/D suddenly asked.

   “I do. I do, sir.” He softly answered making Y/D hum in an accepting manner.

   He hesitated, but Jason Wonder Woman-ed up and leans closer to Y/D just in case the girls could hear him. They might not be able to considering the flow of their girl-talk, but he’s being careful. “Sir, I know this is too soon but I was wondering… Do I have your blessing to take her hand? I’m not going to do it yet in a short time and I know we’re still early in the relationship, but am I good enough for her to you?”

   Y/D’s lips thinned. Right now, he looked seriously intimidating to Jason. He takes a deep breath before looking at the robin again. “To be honest, I don’t think anyone is good enough for Y/N. Not in my eyes at least. She’s precious, gentle, and yet- she’s brave and strong. Complete with flaws but that doesn’t make her any less of a woman. My little princess. The last thing I want is for someone to break her in any way.”

   Jason looked down to his mug, tracing the rim of the mug. His heart fell little by little when he heard those words. Y/D sipped his hot chocolate, looking at the almost empty mug.

   “That being said, be true with her, Jason.”

   Jason’s eyes shot up from the mug up to look at him. “Sir?”

   “You’re enough for her. Hurt her and I’ll hunt you down.” Despite the threat, he still give Jason a fatherly pat on the back and his smile is back. Jason chuckled shakily, nodding his head. “Thank you and don’t worry,” he glances back at Y/N, “I don’t plan on hurting her.”

. . . .

   “You really are her father, aren’t you?” Jason questioned.

   “I am. What’s with the sudden question?” Y/D asked back with a confused smile and one eyebrow raised.

   “It’s just that you can threat someone with a very innocent face. Y/N does that a lot.”

A/n: Have a happy Christmas, everyone! I hope you got what you wanted for Christmas this year.

Masterlist

[thoughtfullyyoungduck]

And he said, I hope you know how to swim

A/N: this is for the gift exchange from @itfandomprompts! My giftee is @iheartthoreau who asked for shy skinny dipping lovers and jealous Eddie. I’m sorry it’s out so late, I hope you enjoy it anyway! 

Summary:  The Derry midnight breeze is freezing, Eddie notes, still dressed in a shirt and pants and dreading having to get rid of them. He’s bare foot now, standing on top of the quarry and peering down into the glinting lake. Next to him, also bare foot, Richie looks over his shoulder, and laughs, bright and innocent. 

warnings: skinny dipping, mentioned of nudity (but nothing graphic)

read on a3o

The atmosphere of six best friends who’ve just moved past the worst stages in their life cackles in Eddie’s brain.

He’s buzzed up, energized beyond all logic by the laughter and loving gestures so carelessly tossed around in their group. Pennywise is dead, and with it the looming threat following each of them around and the teasing unhappiness hinting at what they were missing but not giving any clues as to what.

It’s all over now, and a road full of new opportunities lays ahead of them. Everyone is acting loose, ecstatic with the weight that fell off their shoulders. Eddie’s feeling a tad guilty too, for calling Myra and informing her that way about their upcoming divorce that he’s going to set in motion as soon as he’s had a good night sleep, but he felt so brave after surviving a literal killer clown, that he wanted to get it over with as soon as possible.

A part of him was also frightful that he’d lose his courage, between now and getting home, that he’d look around his house and accept that this was all he was destined for, a mediocre life with a wife he didn’t love and a job that sucked the joy out of all employees. Myra deserved better though, and that’s why Eddie’s guilty eyeing his phone, debating on calling her back. He won’t take back what he said, because he’s relieved to have put it out in the open, but he’s unsure if he should have been more empathetic towards her feelings in all of this. If he should have ended the call after telling her to take care.

Bev notices his wandering eyes from where she seated beside him on the couch, the woman still laughing a stitch, shifting forward and hiding his phone in between seat cushions. Out of sight out of mind so to speak.

‘We’ve got time to worry about it tomorrow Eddie.’ She says, and she’s right. Tomorrow both him and Bev will have to deal with the intricacies of divorce and separating a company and a home. Tonight is reserved for the losers only.

‘Yeah Eds, and here I was assuming that after twenty years we’d have some stuff to catch up on.’

Richie regards him from the floor, legs tossed up upon the couch with his body upside down. His glasses are sliding off, but he’s lazy to fix them, so he looks like even more of a goofball than normal. If Eddie could, if he didn’t feel like his intentions would be even more noticeable if he did, he’d scoot over to Richie, adjusting his glasses and letting his fingers trail his cheek and bask in the skin to skin contact.

‘You never did anything interesting before we went to college, what makes you think you’ve done something interesting after?’ Eddie’s tongue is sharp, a façade he builds to stop speculation about his feelings towards Richie, though the truth is that he is intrigued and he craves to know every small detail about his life outside of Derry.

‘No you guys are not starting this again. I’m sick of your bickering,’ Bill interjects, rolling his eyes at the pair.

‘I reject that big Bill, we’re hilarious, you can’t be sick of us bickering when you haven’t had the pleasure of hearing it for the last twenty years. Michael, back me up here buddy.’

‘Sorry Rich, I’m not getting involved in the slightest.’

‘Yeah guys come on, can’t we have one quiet night in?’

‘What so Eddie can just call me boring and I’m supposed to let it slide? Me? I’m the fireworks on the Fourth of July, the highest roller coaster in the park and the whipped cream on strawberries, but I am not boring.’ Richie changes positions, almost accidentally knocking over his beer bottle. He theatrically waves his arms back and forth, trying to animate his words and add conviction.

‘Okay, okay you’re not boring, but don’t overrate yourself either. The most adventurous thing you ever did in high school was skip a class to read a comic book in the school’s bathroom. Not exactly daredevil behavior.’

Bev sips from her whiskey, winking at Richie whose face turns beet red for a reason Eddie can’t decipher. It’s not until Bev conspicuously blows out a gust of air with her lips puckered that Eddie connects the dots.

‘Didn’t you say you ditched because you were smoking with Beverly? Dude did you fucking lie about that? I was worried you’d die and get cancer ever since that day you piece of shit.’

‘No I definitely did smoke. I swear.’

‘You’re not kidding anyone Rich, I vouched for you all those years ago, but I’m not doing it again. Little Richie was a comic book nerd who just pretended to be really cool. We never ever smoked together.’

The losers all holler, clapping their hands together and cheering on the exposure of their foulmouthed friend, debunking all the story Richie apparently made up where he and Be had to sneak out at night to smoke inconspicuously, with the exception of Eddie and Richie. Eddie, because he’s busy glaring at Richie and Richie because he’s busy tapping Bill’s hand away, teasingly disheveling his hair.

Eddie wishes he was brave enough to give these little affections to his friend, especially after witnessing how soothed Richie got when Eddie hugged him after Neibolt, when he had dropped his face into the nape of Eddie’s neck and stayed there, swaying on his feet of exhaustion. It would only make him a good friend, a best friend, but Eddie is still so damn afraid.

He might have had the power to separate from his wife and kill an abstract form of his deepest fears, but Bowers angry yelled words, such as fairy and faggot, swung to his head any time he and Richie graveted closer while walking, haunt him even now.

Touching is off limits the words tell him, so he shows affection the only way he’s ever known towards Richie, by bickering and pulling pigtails.

‘I should have expected that.’ Eddie nods vehemently, laughing as Richie’s mouth drops open in a shocked manner.

‘Are you kidding me? Eddie Spaghetti is the one telling me I’m a loser?’

Eddie flips him off, ignoring Mike’s whispered; ‘he’s got a point’, in favor of levitating his full attention on Richie. The giggling in the room elevates an octave higher.

‘You all laugh’, Richie addresses the entire group, ‘but was I not the one who came up with the idea for the list?’

Abruptly, all sounds snap off, as everyone is snapped back to the past. Even Richie is, at face value, confused about the word he spoke, until the concept and creation of the list is brought to the forefront of everyone’s mind.

‘Holy shit.’

‘Oh my god Mike please tell me you still have it.’

Mike shakes his head with a far-off look. ‘Sorry guys, I don’t know who had it last but I never found it again.’ He’s saddened by it, like he did them all an injustice by not holding on to a flimsy piece of paper.

The List, capital L, was nothing more but a checklist, composed with all the fun and dangerous things the losers all had hopes of doing after graduating high school. Eddie remembers now, the hushed laughter and uncompromisable joy that came with the simple idea of these things, how everyone pitched in and added dare after dare while him and Stan exchanged glances and hoped to god that some things would never be executed.

‘That’s okay Mike, I’m just happy we can all remember making it.’ Ben smiles reassuringly Mike’s way, who smiles back and takes a deep breath.

‘Wait, I think I can recall some of the things we wrote on there. Hold on’, Bev squeezes her eyes shut and snaps her finger in the hope it will get to her faster. ‘Oh’, she exclaims, startling Bill who chokes on his own saliva, ‘we were going to visit Europe, do a high rope parkour, rock climb and some other things I can’t remember right now.’

‘Didn’t we also agree to volunteer in a hospital and go camping in the national forest?’ Ben asks, awaiting confirmation.

‘Yeah we did, Stan was throwing a fit over going camping because of the environment and the dirt, but we were well on our way to convince him.’

‘Wow,’ Richie breathes, chest puffing up and head dropping back into the couch so his face isn’t visible to the rest. ‘I forgot all about that, but come to think of it, I’m pretty sure I did most of those things with Bryan.’

And who the fuck is Bryan? Certainly not Eddie, sweating in fear from the things that were being listed, searching for the most extreme dares he’d seen happen on tv to suggest, doing anything he could to impress Richie. Eddie was terrified of most of the activities on the list, like Bev’s idea to waterski in the ocean, or Mike’s zip lining idea, but he would have done them if it meant he could bask in Richie’s attention, impress Richie to rid himself of scared baby Eddie was so sure he must have been in Richie’s eyes. So who the hell was this Bryan stealing his thunder like that?

‘Who’s Bryan?’ Bev inquires with a smirk, winking at Richie blush ridden face. Eddie’s jealousy rears its ugly head, flaring up and making his head woozy. He simultaneously both considers choking Bev and thanking her for the question.

With Richie’s secret fresh on his mind, the way he’d so shamefully admitted that he was gay and they were the first people he’d ever found the courage to tell, Eddie wondered if Bryan was perhaps someone Richie had been romantically involved with.

Richie would have deserved it, Eddie argues in his mind, to at least for a short period of time have someone love him back as fiercely as he dons it out, but Eddie’s also furious that he stole Richie out from under his nose.

Which is illogical, because even if he and Richie had managed to stay in touch, and Eddie confessed – not much chance there, as Eddie didn’t even tell anyone he was gay when Richie did - there was no guaranty that Richie would’ve reciprocated.

‘No one snoopy’, Richie argues with a jittery leg, ’just some guy I hung out with for a while.’

Bev appears unconvinced, but she’s also respectful towards Richie's decision to not say anything. ‘So which ones did you complete?’

‘I went to Europa senior year of college, smoked a bunch of weed, went zip lining. The normal kind of stuff.’

Zip-lining, or smoking weed for that matter, causes Eddie skin to crawl, not that he’d ever admit it. He hates that that’s not the case for Bryan.

‘Well thanks Rich, none of us ever did anything on the list without the other losers. I guess you didn’t miss us too much.’ It’s not fair, of course it’s not. He can tell by the eagerness to spend time together that Richie was very lonely, and experienced the same aching emptiness where his friends were supposed to be as the rest of them.

The bitter tone of Eddie's speech, and the way Richie’s eyes turn a little dimmer extinguishes the fire of Eddie’s envy. Richie deserves better than him in every way. An apology lies at the tip of his tongue, ready to jump into the open and hopefully aid the wounds before they’re fully developed.

Sensing the impending hurricane of trouble on the horizon Mike is eager to intervene, playing mediator for two forces that are about to collide. ‘Well I mean, we probably wouldn’t have gone through with most of them anyway.’

‘Speak for yourself’, Eddie waves him off, spiteful that Mike has a good point. He would have found a way to undermine their plans and make it so that he could back out without appearing like a meek lamb, for at least half of the activities. If he had known about Bryan’s existence though, he would have done anything. He feels ready now to do anything, to one up him and establish his spot as Richie’s number one.

‘Prove it,’ Bill dares with a lopsided smirk, certain he’s got Eddie beat. He sustains eye contact, reaching for the bag of chips on the table and gnawing on it with the most smug aura Eddie has ever witnessed him having.

‘I would’, Eddie defends fiercely, ‘but we can’t do any of the things in Derry.’

‘Sounds like a cop out to me.’

‘Yeah, sure Big Bill, because you can easily find a zip line here in Derry. The town that refused to spend money on renewing the library back in the eighties is no doubt going to have that installed by now.’

‘What about skinny dipping?’ Ben proposes innocently, having no idea the kind of strain he’s putting Eddie under.

‘That’s a great idea Ben, I forgot we put that one on the list.’ Beverly acknowledges despite Eddie’s frantic head shaking. The room temperature drops down and rises back up steadily, at least according to Eddie. He’s starting to sweat, something he never does and takes pride in – in the office he’s the level headed one, and that’s saying something – and he pulls at his collar to allow some air to ventilate.  

Everything except that. A swim in a dirty lake that was most likely infected was a whole plate of different bacteria, and being naked in front of the man he’s in love with is not something Eddie is particularly fond of. He almost asks for a different thing to do, but that would truly be a cop out, and he both refuses to back down in front of Richie and give Bill the satisfaction of being right.

‘Good luck with that Eds, question before this all goes down, am I allowed to use this in my next bit?’

‘Actually,’ Bev interrupts, ‘I think you should join him too.’

‘Hey I wasn’t the one that said I’d be willing to do anything.’

‘No, but you were the one who added it on the list in the first place. C’mon Richie, It’ll be fun. For us, not for you guys, but we’ll get a good laugh out of it.’

Richie is hesitant, same as Eddie, readjusting his glasses again. Eddie is sure that if he says the word Richie will tell everyone to back down for him. He wouldn’t even make fun of Eddie for it, should Eddie give any indication that he wouldn’t want him too. He thinks back to Bryan, and how he wouldn’t have backed down for such a thing, and how in awe Richie must have been seeing the man abandon all safety precaution and go for it, Eddie’s mind is made up instantly.

‘Let’s do it.’ He says without leaving room for argument, nodding at Richie as he looks to him. He hopes Richie will go with it, but is also confident that of course he will. As kids they followed each other everywhere, and surely that hasn’t changed.

‘Really? I mean yeah – sure I guess. Bring it on.’

-----

The Derry midnight breeze is freezing, Eddie notes, still dressed in a shirt and pants and dreading having to get rid of them. He’s barefoot now, standing on top of the quarry and peering down into the glinting lake. Eddie’s jumping from one foot to the other, annoyed that dirt is clinging to his skin and branches are piercing his soles, even more aggravated at the idea of cleaning them in infection filled lake water. Bev better keep her end of the promise, and be waiting near the end of the lake with a pair of fresh pressed towels.

Next to him, also bare foot, Richie looks over his shoulder, and laughs, bright and innocent.

‘I forgot how high this was.’

It is high up, but they’ve done this jump at least a hundred times before, so Eddie’s not worried about the plunge. He’d assume Richie isn’t either, but the man keeps glances towards the path they took to get up here, uncharacteristically silent.

‘It’s okay if you're too scared to go through with it Eduardo, I won’t tell the others.’ Richie smirks when he notices Eddie’s glance, crossing his arms over his chest.

The movement makes his shoulders bulk, highlighting just how much bigger Richie is compared to Eddie. Eddie’s mouth waters, and he starts to worry about how he’s going to have to get through seeing Richie’s naked shoulders in the flesh.

‘Just get undressed will you? Hurry up.’

‘Why? Eager to see my bare ass?’

‘Yeah, because who doesn’t think jumping naked into a lake they frequented as kids is the epitome of sexiness? No you self-centered idiot, I want to get it over with so I can go back to the Inn and grab a warm shower.’

With one last peek, Eddie moves backwards, standing away from the ledge and begins to unbutton his shirt, before thinking better off it. Richie picks up on his hesitation, shifting backwards too and motioning his head towards the ridge.

‘Do you want me to show you how it’s done?’

‘No,’ Eddie objects, ‘I’ll go first.’

‘Why? I’m not going to stare at your junk while you're jumping in if that’s what you're worried about Eddie. I’m not that kind of gay.’ Rarely does Richie toss aside an opportunity to grant Eddie another humorous nickname, so the use of his real name spooks Eddie just enough that he opens his mouth to apologize without even realizing what he’s apologizing for.

Richie’s facial expression, set in a grimace and squinting his eyes defensively, are a dead give away that Eddie’s words are being taken the wrong way. If only Richie knew that Eddie wanted him to go in first so he could avoid the same temptation Richie thought he was forcing on him.

‘Richie no, that’s not what I meant I-.’ Heartfelt compliments are not something Eddie has had a lot of practice for these last few years, and he’s not doing a good job catching up on them either. Therefore he sighs and hopes that he can find another way to prove to Richie he’d never accuse him of something like that. ‘Whatever, just go first already.’

‘Fine but turn around okay?’

Eddie listens to him, back towards Richie and the jump off, though he doesn’t really understand the request. With Richie comes a lot of flair, and he was more or less been prepared for a joke about how Eddie got to confirm how big his dick is in reality.

He waits and listens carefully for the sounds of clothes being dropped on the ground, and he can’t stop his mind from secretly imagining how Richie looks like without them once he distinguishes it.  Eddie shakes his head, scolding his own mind.

The next few moments are filled with raspy breaths originating from Richie, footstep sounding further away and then closer again in an erratic pattern. He must be scared of the jump. Under normal circumstances, Eddie would ask to jump in at the same time, but since Richie asked Eddie not to turn around, he won’t.

‘If you don’t jump in the next five minutes,’ Eddie teases, the way Richie used to tease him, ‘I’ll push you in.’ A second later Eddie hears Richie’s loud whooping as he plunges down into the dark water.

Eddie spins, the only thing greeting him the dark with very little light clearing up his path, from the moon. He’s having a hard time to even see where the cliff ends, and he can’t disguise Richie in the water at all.

‘I’m coming in’, he yells to the void, in case Richie can’t discern his body in time and needs to move out of the way. He takes off his clothes, goosebumps erupting on his skin, and folds his pants and t-shirt up neatly, touching the ground with his hands to find a dry spot to lay them on. The air is cold, and so Eddie refuses to linger on top any longer than he has to.

He jogs up to the ledge and darts off before his mind can conjure up the thousands of things that can go wrong from swimming in the dark this late at night. His body flies through the air and connects with the water in one swoop, a pit of glee bursting in Eddie’s stomach. Jumping from the quarry equals freedom, a hot summer day and love for all of his friends, but in particular Richie.

Eddie keeps his head underwater until his lungs burn, eyes closed and allowing himself to just feel all the sensations. Then, something tickles the back of his leg, and the peaceful moment is over. He kicks back the surface, away from the spot where he could swear something touched him, and searches around for Richie.

Richie, with his wet black hair clinging to his forehead, strands of it sticking out in every direction, and his droplet covered glasses, roving more of Eddie’s heart each minute they’re near each other. He’s never looked more beautiful, and Eddie has never had to fight the urge to kiss him as much as he does now.

‘See, I told you I wouldn’t stare Eds, I can’t even see anything with all these splatters on my glasses.’

The moon reflects on the water, so that it’s impenetrable, and neither Rich nor Eddie can look down and see their lower body parts.

What Eddie can see is enough anyway, Richie’s shoulders and part of his chest hold Eddie’s attention, and he forgets to respond to Richie’s comment.

His eyes land on a dark bruise, just on the bottom of Richie’s neck, a remnant of their fight with Pennywise earlier that day. Without thinking, without standing still on the consequences of such an action, Eddie swims closer, stretches his arm out, and lingers his fingertips over the bruise. He carefully positions his body to not touch any other body part of Richie’s except for his fingers on his neck.

He makes an inquisitive noise, thumb stroking over the injury in what he hopes to be a calming matter. He physically can’t pull away, entranced with the way he moves and responds to him, trying but failing to get his fill of Richie clenched.

‘Eddie’, Richie whispers, scared to break the silence and the intimate moment. ‘It’ll be fine. And hey, at least he didn’t do anything to my dick.’

‘Yeah, would have been a shame if it were to become even smaller.’

Richie snorts, retaliating the jest with a wave of dirty water aimed at Eddie.

Eddie gasps, spitting out a bit of water that managed to sneak into his mouth. ‘Oh you’re on.’

The two of them chase each other, and if it weren’t for the fact that they were both naked, Eddie would have thrown his entire body weight in the game to push Richie underwater. As it stands, they just splash back and forth until they’re exhausted and the remnants of their laughter dies out, barely enough energy left to stay afloat side by side.

‘Did you have this much fun with Bryan?’ Eddie asks, a bit envious. He hates how he’s still stuck on the Bryan thing, hates that his mind keeps popping images of them doing the exact same thing only to end it with a kiss.

‘What?’

‘With Bryan, the guy you did all that other stuff with?’

‘Oh no, me and Bryan – we were never together like that.’ Back at the hotel room, Eddie figured that that was a ploy to distract Bev, something Richie just said because he couldn’t comfortably admit the real intent of their relationship. But he’s never lied to Eddie, and his eyes, magnified by his glasses, seem so sincere, Eddie has no other option but to believe him. ‘I-I’m- some other guy already has that place all taken up.’

Eddie stupid, oblivious and dense and everything in between. He knows Richie isn’t talking about him, he knows he could never be the guy Richie would hold all hope out for – he also secretly hopes it’s none of the losers -, but he wants to be so bad. Just one time, just one kiss and he’d be sated enough to let go of his feral behavior towards any potential love interest Richie might have. Just one time.

‘Richie’, Eddie starts, biting his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. He’s taking a huge risk, by foreseeing a rejection but hoping that Richie won’t drop him as a friend because of this. If Eddie doesn’t do this, he’ll never stop wondering what it feels for their lips to meet. He’ll never get over Richie because he never got to experience any with him.

‘Can I kiss you?’ He risks releasing his lip.

Richie is visibly shocked. ‘What? What the fuck? Eddie is this a joke?’

The joke is, as usual, all on Eddie who regrets ever opening his mouth in the first place. He could try to laugh it off, say that it was a joke, but that would mean that he pretends to make a jest out of something Richie has struggled with for his entire life. He’s stuck between a rock and a hard place. Left with no other options but to further dig his own grave, Eddie decides to be honest. At least that means he gets to keep part of his integrity.

‘No Richie of course not, I wouldn’t do that to you. I’m sorry. Look I like you but it’s obviously one sided and I just wanted to know what it felt like to kiss you but it was a stupid request and I shouldn’t have asked you that. Oh god, I never even asked if you were dating someone –‘

‘Eds?’

‘- Fuck can we please forget I said anything so we can still hang out?’

‘Eddie?’

‘What?’

‘Yes. Please kiss me.’

Eddie gapes with his mouth open, struggling for breath and for words. He’s half convinced he misinterpreted  the words, but his tilted head proves otherwise. Eddie doesn’t question it further, counting his lucky start for once, and leaning in to his emotions and Richie, breaching the water to get to him.

Their kiss is surprisingly gentle for the ungovernable lead up prior to it. Richie’s lips taste like lake water, but deeper underneath lies a tang of something distinctively Richie. Eddie can’t wait to devour him whole once he’s cleaned up. Their lips move together in tandem, a perfect harmony that for once neither are willing to break.

They pull back, Richie’s arms circling Eddie’s waist, and he smiles. His smile mixed with the love stricken gleam in his eyes, mysteriously tells Eddie that Richie feels the exact same way he does. His chest caves with happiness.  

‘I like you too, if it wasn’t obvious. A lot more than Bryan.’

‘For the love of God can we never mention that again? It’s embarrassing. No, Hush’, Eddie says urgently, covering Richie’s mouth with his palm when he opens his mouth to conjure up another joke.

‘Fine,’ Richie says while pulling away from Eddie’s hand. ‘How about we talk about something else then? How the fuck are we supposed to get to our clothes?’

[gxngsoflondon]

As The World Caves In - Part 4/? (Sean Wallace x Reader)

A/N: I’m so sorry this took so long to post, it’s been a craaaaaazy week. Hope you guys enjoy!

Part 3  //   My Masterlist

Part 4: No More Mrs Polite

Marian Wallace has finally stopped crying.

She is still clutching your face.

Finn had crushed you in an embrace at first and now all he can do is stare at the miracle before him.

See, you look alot like your mother.

He called Ed, the Dumali’s are on their way.

Billy doesn’t quite know how to react. He is perched on the arm of a small couch, staring at you too. He is trying to remember everything he can about his childhood best friend. He’d cried himself to sleep for a year after you were reported dead.

Sean Wallace is the only person in the room that isn’t looking at you. He’s staring out of a window, swirling the whiskey in his glass.

“Y/N,” he says, without turning around to face you “Exactly how many men have you just killed?”

*8 Hours Earlier*

You never liked being alone in the apartment. It wasn’t often that Johnny wasn’t home, but when your fiance was away on business you struggled to sleep at night.

Like he was away on business now.

You’d given up on trying to sleep by 3am,16 years later and the nightmares are just as real, the horror just as fresh. So you sit cross legged on your sofa, tucked under a small blanket, mindlessly flicking through television channels as you wait for the sun to come up.

And that’s when you see it.

Through the cracks in your curtains you see a bright beam of headlights, too bright to simply be one car.

It’s the door slams that catch your attention.

There are never usually cars around here at this time of night.

You the mute the TV and make your way to the window. You aren’t worried, more so curious, but the years of training have made you paranoid, and you make especially sure you can’t be seen.

There are three black vehicles in the street bellow. Two men emerge from the back of each car and greet each other with curt nods. The tallest man with greying hair checks his watch, then looks up at a window on the eighth floor, the only one with light at this hour in the early morning. He is in charge here. The cars disappear, drawn back to the hum of the city. Nobody must know they have arrived.

The men don’t speak a word to each other. The tall man signals with his hand and they all sweep towards the lobby of the apartment complex, feet moving in unison, silencers on their guns.

The tall man was warned you would be difficult, that you will not be like his other targets. They have already failed once, they will kill you this time.

The tallest man was also warned you will do everything in your power to kill them too.

You know they are here for you.

You know they want you dead.

You are calm.

This is how you survive; by staying calm and remaining rational.You are prepared. You know you can’t run away, if they’ve found you once they’ll find you again. You cannot outweigh your opponent in strength, all but one of the 6 men stalking towards you clear 6 feet, stocky and muscular. No, you can’t fight them, you will have to outsmart them.

You are already two steps ahead.

Because you’ve spent the last 16 years trying to track down who murdered your family and they’ve just delivered themselves to you wrapped in ribbon.

You check your phone. You had set up cameras as soon as you moved in. Johnny had never laughed so hard, after all “you were safe now”, “nobody knew you existed”. You flicked between the camera’s. One man stayed outside, two in the lobby, the other three continuing up the stairwell to you.

“Who’s laughing now Johnny, who’s laughing now”

You unmute the TV and get into position.

//

“You didn’t try and call for help?” Marian asks “Not even- what was he called?”

“Johnny,” Billy says. Like the rest of the Wallace family, he was hanging on your every word.

Marian nods.

“Yes,” she says “Him”

You shrug.

“I wasn’t scared.”

There wasn’t much anybody could say to that. So they didn’t.

“Well you better bloody continue lassie,” Finn says finally.

Sean Wallace finally sits down next to his brother. His eyes are locked on yours, and you’re both smirking.

//

The first three men find your apartment and the door is already open. There are no lights on anymore, just a flickering TV screen, nothing but static playing on it. They sweep the first few rooms and find nothing. They know better than to assume you’re not here. They spread out, each searching a separate room now.

This is their first mistake.

The tall man with the greying hair checks your bedroom, he moves silently. You aren’t under the bed, you aren’t behind the curtain. He almost leaves the room. Surely you won’t be in the wardrobe, he knows you’re smart remember, you won’t be in the most cliched hiding spot.

He checks anyway. Better to be safe than sorry.

The wardrobe is dark, and he struggles to see into it.

So he takes a step further inside.

This is his last mistake.

You sink a knife into his thigh before he can see the arm punching from the shadows.

It’s relatively simple after that. You wrestle him for the gun. He lands a few punches on your face but he knows you struck something major in his leg. He falls to the ground. You shoot him point blank.

The other two men are in the kitchen. Your back is against the wall in the hallway. Your heart thuds loudly in your chest. You watch them but they can’t see you. You’re trying to get a good look at their faces. One of them, the shortest, wears a black balaclava covering all of his head. He’s the one that must’ve seen you. You hear him reload his gun. He doesn’t have time to fire it. He’s been shot before he can find the trigger.

Bullets rip into the wall behind you and you dive behind your couch. You’re panting heavily. The other intruder ducks also, behind a kitchen island. He doesn’t stay there for long.

He empties round and round into the couch. There is no gunfire in return. Slowly, the man stands up, tiptoeing his way towards the living room where he’s seen you duck for cover. He reaches the couch. He is ready to shoot.

But you aren’t there.

He spins on his heels, confused.

And you bring a frying pan down so hard on his skull that he falls immediately to the ground. You plunge a knife into his chest for good measure.

You are walking into the lift in a dead man’s clothes. You check the camera’s on your phone, the other men are still there. You tuck your hair back as you slip the balaclava over your head as the doors to the lobby open.

It takes them a second too long to realise you aren’t one of them.

And by then you’ve emptied your gun of its bullets.

“Fuck!”

You are crouched over the last man you shot. You slap his face a couple of times but he’s dead, no doubt about it. You wanted him alive. You want to know who sent him.

But it’s slightly too late for that now.

It takes you about an hour to drag the bodies in the lobby up to your apartment. It’s as you’re piling the bodies up you here the buzzing of a phone. You find it in one of their pockets.

Is it done?

It’s the only new message. The contact isn’t saved but the number wasn’t concealed. You should’ve written the number down. Used it to track down exactly who was doing this.

All you type back in reply is:

Yes.

But you didn’t write the number down. You didn’t have to. See, this was a number you knew. A number you knew very well.

//

The Wallace’s take a couple of seconds to process this information. Killing isn’t knew to them. They’ll send a team out to clean up the ‘mess’ in your apartment as soon as the hugs and reminiscing and reunions are over. Billy looks impressed, but they others, they look worried.

“Here’s what’s bothering me,”

It’s Sean Wallace. He’s finished the whiskey and set the glass down on a coffee table.

“Mum, Dad, you’ve all been looking for her for years”

“Yes,” Marian nods. And it’s true. For years they grasped onto the hope that at least one of you were still alive. They funded countless searches, spent thousands of pounds and hours on finding any remaining Andersons.

But they never did.

You made sure that nobody would know you were alive. All but one person knew you were alive.

Sean opens his mouth to finish his sentence, but Finn beats him to it.

“So how did they find her before we did?”

Sean nods. This is what had been playing on his mind. Who could’ve possibly known who you were, but perhaps more importantly, where you were.

That ‘one person’ sold you out.

“Ah well,” you say, letting out a cold laugh, before flashing a ring at them “For that you can thank my darling fiance,”

Sean’s eyebrows knit together in confusion

“Johnny?” Billy says, just like he had done to prompt his mother earlier.

You frown but can’t help yourself from mimicking the words of the Wallace mother. Malice coats your voice.

“Yes” you say, “Him.”

Taglist: @newyorkstateofmind​ @lovemissyhoneybee​ @swiftyhowlz​ @rubycuffley​  (let me know if you want to be tagged so that you never miss a part!!)