#until you say it. which is why I’m saying it! anyway I’m just rambling. I would appreciate a prayer if you have a sec

[list4r]

Deciding to have a family with you was the best thing Satoru ever done. At least that’s what he says every moment you two are alone.

The moment you came to him with that positive pregnancy test he did everything he could so he could be ready for when you brought that beautiful baby girl into the world. He signed you guys up for partnering classes, bought as many necessities as the nursery could fit, made sure to babyproof the house. He did everything he could to be ready. The only thing he wasn’t ready for though- his child growing up.

It was the classic night, his favourite kind of night. When the three of you are together at the dinner table. Satoru and your daughter were wearing matching hair clips as they sit at the table. Once food is served everything is well. Until your daughter speaks up.

“Papa are you gonna be sad when I grow up and leave you and mama?”

That causes Satoru to immediately choke on his food, turning to the five year old girl who was humming happily as she waits for his answer.

“What are you talking about sweetie, where’d that come from hm?” Satoru tries to keep the expression on his face neutral but you can tell he’s holding back.

“Well when I get older I will get married and have kids like mama and papa! Then I will move far away and you can’t visit, only mama can.”

That right there causes Satorus eye to twitch, gripping his fork before nodding and giving the girl a small smile. “I think you should just eat your dinner baby, it’s getting late.” In which she nods and continues to eat while rambling about what happened at school that day. Honestly you had to applaud Satoru for not freaking out then and there. It seemed like times were changing.

But you were wrong.

Now it was after dinner time and after you put your daughter down to sleep. And you thought that you would get a good nights sleep, but here you are… dealing with your husband.

“She hates me baby she hates me…” gojo muttered as he was sitting up while you were laying down. “I mean why would she even say that? That only you can visit her?” His hands are waving around dramatically. “Am I… I’m a bad father? That she’ll forget about me when she grows up…. Oh my god baby my heart- I think I might just die. Yep that’s it I’m gonna die and my own daughter probably won’t even care. I can’t believe I let her have candy when you say no and she said that. What’s the point of life anymore.”

“Satoru she’s literally five…. She doesn’t know what’s she’s saying. Go to bed.”

“How can I sleep when my precious little girl doesn’t even want me in her future life?”

“All kids say things they don’t mean. She’ll forget it about it in the morning. Just please… go to sleeep it’s late.”

Gojo sighs as he finally lays down. “Well I won’t forget.” A pause. “What do you have that I don’t? I think I’m a very fun guy.”

“Maybe she doesn’t like drama queens who don’t want to sleep.”

“If only she knew her mother was a rude woman, then she wouldn’t have said that.” Gojo huffs.

“Sleep.”

“Okayyyyy… good night.” He huffs and it’s like you can hear the pout on his face.

Let’s just say the both of them ended up forgetting the next morning anyway.

[adispit]

The Aftermath

Alpha rival king x alpha m!reader

A mini part 2 of The Crown!

Warnings: dubcon, handjob, possessive Leo

note: yeah this isn’t really a smut centered piece more centered on the story also I didn’t beta read this so if there’s errors yeah 😭

Something was wrong. Your nape ached with a searing intensity, and your fangs felt inexplicably dull. The air around you reeked of something unmistakable—alpha. Jolting awake, your entire body ached with a deep, lingering pain. Wait a minute, this wasn’t your bed. Where were you?! These luxurious sheets were also something you couldn’t afford…even as a royal.

Your entire body reeked of alpha pheromones—clearly not your own. They carried a hint of musky leather and a scent reminiscent of stormy nights. What was even more concerning was the fact that your body responded in this scent—you liked it..! As an alpha! Panic and confusion surged through your mind as blurry afterimages of the previous night flashed through your thoughts in a matter of seconds. You felt your face flush red with humiliation and shame. Right. You had gotten…bitched. Bitched by Leo.

Sunlight streamed through the windows of your bedroom like any other ordinary day. Except it wasn’t. The clear and fresh humiliation seared and burned into your mind, your only remaining pride as an alpha remaining— completely shattered and destroyed. How could you have submitted! To the very man who invaded and conquered your country?! The man who ruthlessly slaughtered your countrymen…the very man who also mercilessly fucked you…on the throne. Embarrassment once again took ahold of you as your sore nape throbbed at the thought of the events of the previous night.

"You done wallowing in pity?" A cold, harsh voice sliced through your thoughts, snapping you back to reality. A slim and lean man stood at the foot of the bed you lay in, holding a clipboard. He emitted no scent and seemed to be a beta. “Who are you?!” you demanded, glaring at him with guarded suspicion.

“Calm down. I’m a private doctor who’s friends with Leo, he called for me to come examine you.” He rolled his eyes in irritation. “He doesn’t even pay me to deal with the bullshit I have to deal with…Anyways, you clearly went through a number. This guy initiated such a forceful bitching on the spot when you were clearly emotionally and mentally stimulated. Now the consequences of that is, due to the traumatic experience which was caused by the sudden change of your secondary gender, your body is in a pseudo-state of an omega. You aren’t really one right now, you still retain your alpha features….” Hearing the doctor ramble on, you blankly stared off into space.

An omega. You were now an omega. Why— “Hey! Are you listening?” He snapped his fingers. “Listen to what I say!” His frustration was evident in his growl. You blinked your eyes apologetically, trying to focus on his words. “As I was saying, you do still have your features as an alpha, those fangs can still mark someone and your cock still has a knot. Well, a rather pitiful one as of now though, I did have to examine you.” He shook his head in what seemed like gratuitous pity.

“However, your body is in a state of transition into an omega right now. You will leak slick and have random pseudo-heats until you have stabilised as an omega. Without the presence of Leo, the alpha who marked you, your body would not survive those heats and it would be fatal. This is also because of the heat you went through after he bit you.” He droned on monotonously. Like a knife through butter, your heart felt as though it was ripped open at the news.

This man was fucking sick. Everyone was fucking sick! Grinding your teeth in fury, you glared at the doctor in a fit of rage. “Okay, don’t shoot the messenger…just trying to do my job. Just have plenty of rest and with your alpha by your side. I’ll prescribe an ointment for that bite. And speak of the devil! I’ll go now.” He helplessly pinched the crease between his eyebrows before striding off. “How’s my wife doing?” A rich, magnetic voice echoed in the chamber as you were met with piercing blue eyes that seemed to engulf you in their entirety.

“Fuck off.” You spat at him with as much venom your hoarse voice could muster. A pitiful attempt that seemed to only make the teasing grin on his face grow bigger. If he hadn’t bitched and fucked you, you would have assumed this man would have been sent by the heavens to save you. “So feisty… love that about you, (Name),” he grinned, his eyes locked on you, seemingly ready to devour you at any moment.

“You’ve heard the man, as your husband and your alpha, I shall assist you through your heats and provide you with all the loving care you could ever need.” With a malice-filled smile, he manhandled you into a hug that seemed to steal your very breath away from you. “Ugh! Don’t- fucking touch me!” You struggled weakly, flailing your arms as he gripped onto you tighter at your resistance. Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through your lower abdomen, causing you to collapse weakly into his arms.

Lightly caressing your cheek, he pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek as he muttered for you to rest, clearly displeased. The rasp of his voice filled your ears as you couldn’t help but press your legs together unconsciously. Your heart pounded in your ears as blood rushed to your cheeks and also your… “Are you hard right now?” A hint of amusement in his voice cut through the heavy silence. “N-no! I’m…” Leaving no room for argument, he lifted up your flimsy gown to the sight of your pathetically erect cock, leaking beads of precum.

Huffing playfully, he palmed at your throbbing dick, earning a soft whine from you. Your eyes were half-lidded and glazed over with lust. Your mouth hung agape, forming words that didn’t exist with a voice you didn’t have in your efforts to comprehend the pleasure you were begrudgingly feeling. You didn’t want this. You didn’t want rough and calloused fingers so delicately brushing over your sensitive tip, making your insides twist and turn at the familiar delicious burn of pleasure.

Your head started to droop, but a sharp squeeze to your cock brought you back in an instant. “Are you enjoying yourself, (Name)?” Leo smiled, full of mirth but also of ill intentions. Slowly, he began to pump your member again, his cruel smile twisting upwards as he heard you let out a strangled moan. Glancing at yourself, you had no choice but admit you were a mess really. Your skin covered with a fine sheen of sweat as you panted laboriously and your hips involuntarily rocking into the warm hold of Leo’s fist.

Grunting disdainfully at the lack of response from you, Leo sighed into the crook of your neck, hot breath brushing against the very bite mark that seemed to burn. “You say you don’t want this though,” his hand crawled achingly slowly up to the desperately sensitive tip. “Maybe I should just leave you be. Just. Let. You. Be.” With each word he punctuated it with a gentle rub of the precum-soaked tip, you nearly found yourself sent over the edge from that alone. You were too close to stop now.

“Please…” A weak plea left your throat. You couldn’t help himself. You knew it was a mistake, but one your useless body was so desperate to make. This ache had to go away. “Please Leo…”Leo grinned victoriously. “Well, since you asked so nicely…” You smelt the air suddenly surge with pheromones. Ah. That soothing smell. Whilst seemingly suffocating in his pheromones, Leo increased the speed of his pumping, making you come undone with a silent scream as the exhaustion overtook you. Slumping down, you felt your taut body sink into his arms before once again passing out. “Fuck.” Leo looked down at the wet stain in his pants and the tent that wouldn’t go away.

A few years ago, under the cover of night, he had ventured out to the same forest clearing where he had once found solace. It was a place he had comforted you in before, though back then, you were both younger. As he arrived, ready to unleash his annoyance on the intruder, he was taken aback to find you huddled, trembling with unshed tears. Your defiant gaze intrigued him, and despite his initial intention to chase you away, he was struck by your vulnerability.

“Hey, you can’t be in… here…” he began, but trailed off when he saw your pitiful form. Struggling with unfamiliar emotions, he attempted to offer comfort, a rare gesture for someone of his royal stature. “You… okay?” he asked awkwardly, furrowing his brows.

“I’m o-okay!” you quickly responded, rubbing your eyes and standing up with a sheepish grin. “S-sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you with my crying…” Your innocent reaction only made him more determined to be gentle, despite his internal conflict. His pheromones, released unconsciously, elicited a low snarl from you, signaling your hostility. The mingling scents of earthy soil and rain from you in the air only highlighted the moment.

“Sorry…” he said, rubbing his head in apology. You merely nodded and hurried away into the distance. Though he had expected never to see you again, fate had other plans. Now that you were back in his life, he was resolved never to let you go again.

note: so yeah that’s it uh Leo had an interest in you and ran w it and he met u to ur very misfortune. Reader isn’t having a really great time overall 😭 but I hope this explains things! Tried my hand at something more story related

Reblogs are appreciated ❤️

[soobnny]

howl and sophie — han jisung x reader ; he realizes he’s in love with you (0.8k words)

advance happy bday hanji!

“Do you guys ever think about how Howl spent his whole life—“

“Is Chan coming back already?” Jeongin questions, unknowingly cutting Jisung off as he impatiently checks the expensive watch wrapped around his wrist.

He’d lost a bet earlier and had promised to get the kids ice cream, and if you were to ask the youngest how long the boy’s been gone, it’s been around 23 minutes and 24 seconds, but he’d never admit to his impatience.

“Howl spent his life looking—“

“Sorry, I’m late.” Chan comes rushing through the door, crouched down to his knees the moment he’s inside with his dominant hand gripping a plastic bag from the convenience store.

He’s still panting when the boys swarm him, the youngest managing to catch the bag and veering off to the direction of the kitchen.

“Hyung!” Jisung calls out the eldest’s attention, and you notice your best friend’s features drop when Chan moves to break the fight in the kitchen as to who has which flavor.

“Hyung, don’t ignore me.”

He’s whining now, arms crossed and body unmoving from the space he’s occupying on the couch. Jisung has his tells when he’s getting sulky, his lips form a pout and his eyebrows furrow just a little—all tells so blatantly obvious on his face at the very moment.

Jisung should know better than to expect his friends to listen to him when there’s free ice cream and a limited stock of flavors up for grabs in the kitchen. They might be good friends most of the time, but they are not below putting their entire attention to making sure they do not have the worst flavor.

He’s still sulking, and you can hear his breathing getting a little louder, but their attention is still glued on the kitchen table.

You place a hand on his arm gently, shifting closer to the pouting boy. You know exactly what he wants to say, but you choose to ask him anyway.

“What is it?”

It’s comedic the way the pout instantly washes away from his features, instead replaced with a giddy smile as he angles his body to look at you properly.

Jisung’s always been cute in the way he could never hide how wide his smile gets.

Howl spent his entire life looking for his Sophie.

“Howl spent his entire life looking for his Sophie. Don’t you think that’s the most romantic thing ever? Especially when he tells her she might as well take a piece of his heart.”

You’ve heard him talk about Howl’s Moving Castle a thousand times now, but you let him ramble anyway. You’d lose nothing but your time, but it’s easily compensated with the way he’s smiling at you.

“Are you talking about that movie again?”

It’s Changbin who butts in the conversation when Jisung takes a deep breath in between his spoken 1000-word essay about Howl and Sophie. The older boy is seated on the bean bag in front of the pair of you, ice cream in hand as he monstrously takes a bite off.

“How he spent his entire life searching for Sophie?”

“(Name), what ice cream flavor do you want?” There’s a call from the kitchen, and Jisung’s starting to pout again.

“Don’t worry, they just don’t understand the movie like you do.” You whisper in his ear, enough to solicit a laugh from the boy.

Then, when you expect him to continue, he grows quiet.

In all honesty, even Han Jisung doesn’t understand why. He thinks about this all the time, and he’s never had a problem talking to you, but now his head is blanking.

It isn’t until you take his hands in yours and encourage him to keep talking that he realizes oh—is this how Howl feels about Sophie?

This is a dilemma.

Jisung’s always known he’s had a crush on you, but the way you’d listened to him with a sweet and gentle smile on your face, with your attention unwavering, he’s suddenly painfully self-conscious about how much more he feels about you and how his hands are probably sweating from the sudden realization.

“Jisung?”

“Hey, I know another topic he never shuts up about.” Seungmin hums, having gone back from the kitchen. “His big fat crush on—“

“Chan was asking you what flavor you wanted, right?” Jisung suddenly interrupts, eyes flickering between you and Seungmin, the kitchen, then back on you.

“Come on, (name). Let’s get some ice cream.” Then, he abruptly gets up from his seat and pulls you to the direction of where there’s only two pieces of ice cream in the plastic bag.

“What was Seungmin say—“

“Here. Take this.” He all but shoves the ice cream in your hands, smiling a little too sheepishly before hurrying to shut Seungmin up.

[hrts4doie]

racer!mark as your boyfriend

warnings: mark x afab!reader, use of pet names (baby, babe), headcanons go gradually from sfw to nsfw (MDNI), possessiveness, car sex, riding, unprotected sex, breeding, praise kink, dirty talk, more car sex

a/n: this is actually a repost LOL i deleted this and forgot about it but anyways my racer!mark brainrot was so bad that i had to make this… i was thinking about making this a series with other members but i’m not too sure! lmk ur thoughts :)

racer!mark who considers you his good luck charm. before every race, he'll come find you and ask for his 'good luck kiss.’ the idea's silly, at least to you, but mark takes it very seriously. he constantly tells you, "babe, without my kiss, i think i might lose. like.. for real."

racer!mark who makes it his personal mission to always do his best for you. every win is for you and you only. a part of him thinks that maybe that's why he made to top of the industry as fast as he did. who could beat him when he has the best motivator?

racer!mark who, although very rarely, sulks every time he loses. you know he's always hard on himself, cursing himself in his head for even the smallest mistakes, and you hate to see the frown on his face when he comes to find you after the race. he always tries to apologize, thinking he disappointed you. you hate that he doesn't realize that no matter what he does, he could never disappoint you.

racer!mark who loves to take you for spontaneous midnight drives when he's not racing. you always complain, telling him, "maaaark, it's late." he'll silence you with a kiss and drag you to the door, assuring it'll be fun. he has a spot, one only for you and him, and he knows you could never say no to him. he's proven right every single time when it's you and him beneath the stars, laughing without a care in the world. at times like these, nothing else matters besides the way mark kisses you, slow and sweet and with so much love that it hurts.

racer!mark who broke his own personal record— which, obviously, was the world record-the day you first told him that you loved him. you came up to him in disbelief after the race, asking, "what.. what was that?" mark could only give you a shy smile, shrugging his shoulders. "i just really love you too," came his silly and ridiculous-yet-very-mark response.

racer!mark who is an absolute nerd about cars. you expected it, but nothing could prepare you for how cute mark is when he rambles. sometimes, you're too distracted to realize what he's actually saying, staring at him with a soft smile while he continues to talk. there's almost nothing better than the way he flushes bright red when he realizes, pausing whatever thought he had and telling you to stop staring.

racer!mark who lost it the first time you wore his jacket. you were curious, wanting to see how he would react, and mark couldn't believe just how good it looked on you. "it's—holy shit. you look—you look great, babe. you're—wow," mark fumbled out when you asked him how it looked, unable to tear his eyes away from you. something inside of him was hot, burning with desire from seeing you in his jacket. he pulled you to the bed, begging for you to keep the jacket on while he fucked you.

racer!mark who does everything he can to make sure the whole word knows you're his. he has a possessive streak that never seems to end, constantly leaving marks all over your body. you always return the favor, almost just as possessive as him, wanting people to know that mark lee, the world’s biggest star, is yours. they'll never be able to have him the way you do.

racer!mark who loves to fuck you in his car. at first, he was unsure until you brought up the idea. all it took was a simple, "wouldn't it be nice to fuck me here?" before he cracked, the both of you climbing into the back seat.

racer!mark who lets you ride him (in his car, of course) until he's begging to cum inside you, overwhelmed with how good your tight cunt feels around his cock and how hot it is to have you on top of him, defiling his most prized possession.

racer!mark who flushes bright red every time you promise him 'something fun' before a race, whispering in his ear about everything you'll let him do to you if he wins. he'll be damned if he lets someone else beat him, especially when he's being promised having you in his bed tonight.

racer!mark who loves to praise you, telling you how good you are every chance he gets. he'll tell you how good you feel around him or how perfect you are for him, taking his cock like you were made for it. he's never been able to be quiet in bed, mumbling to himself about how fucking good your pussy feels and how he can never get enough of you.

racer!mark who easily gets jealous when you teasingly bring up his competitors, especially his rival haechan. you do it to work him up, wanting to push him to the edge. mark's always sweet with you in bed, giving you whatever you want, but sometimes, you want him to be mean. nothing gets him there quicker than an offhand comment that goes something along the lines of wanting to take a ride with haechan instead. mark hates this. you're his and no one else's. it causes him to finally snap, pinning you down into the sheets and fucking you like there's no tomorrow. "you're mine, baby. all fucking mine," he'll growl out, punctuating each word with a thrust.

a/n: i mainly reposted this bc i got an ask about it and figured it would make more sense if u guys got the racer!mark details… ☀️🐰 anon if u see this…. this was for u.. ANYWAYS i love doing headcanons so if u guys have any headcanon requests thennnnnnnn u know where to find me!

[2knightt]

CANT HOLD IT IN ANY LONGER!!! i’m utterly obsessed with the curtis brothers.

idk if u do this, but if u can, the curtis brothers with a reader who’s super down bad for them? they make it so clear, too. constantly doing everything for them, making food, buying snacks, just utterly everything. compliments, holding their hand religiously … yk.

୧ ׅ𖥔 ۫ you know i’m a fool for you. ⋄ 𓍯

…IN WHICH! you think the curtis brothers are the only men on the planet.

tags/warnings: swearing(on my end/once during dialogue.) reader being slightly overprotective or insane, mentions of reader getting hit on, mentions of reader leaving lip stick stains, me not knowing what to write for darry.

ೃauthor notes⁀➷ i’m using ny other accounts layout bc i can’t be bothered rn. also i’m here to feed y’all i’ve noticed the outsiders x reader tag is lowkey dry asl.

Ponyboy Curtis:

WOAH HE CAN’T HANDLE ALLAT😭

like actually. he is TWEAKING AT ALL TIMES! when you first like started complimenting him, showering him in kisses, giggling n’ shit—he thought it was a one time thing.

ponyboy just thought he’d have to thug that shit out once a week or something. he was, in-fact, pleasantly surprised when you continued to do it.

“you’re so-mwah-cute! i wish-mwah-i could-mwah-hold you forever!”

“y/n…😣”

he’s so flustered omfg like actually he’s beet red LMFAOOO. if you were to put your fingers to his forehead it’d be so hot. like ponyboy’s avoiding eye contact, his lips are tightened, etc.

if he were to stay the night at your place—you make him all types of food. like, food he’d never heard of. or food he’d dream about after eating bologna for a week,

“for me? …really?”

“mhm! c’mon, don’t let it get cold now.”

ponyboy is DIGGING RIGHT THE FUCK IN. okay he is SCARFING THAT DOWN. after he’d be a little embarrassed of how quickly he ate but like you just took it as a good thing.

thinks you’re the best cook ever tbh. gordan ramsey has nothing on you type levels.

going on a walk with him to go grocery shopping for the curtis house with your hands intertwined and letting ponyboy ramble about this annoying substitute he had!!! IT’S REAL!!! ALL OF IT!!!

“n’ then he tried to tell me my answer was wrong when i studied last night—I EVEN ASKED MY FRIENDS. so, i know it was right. i just think mr. johnson had a personal vendetta against me.”

“smh…i could do slash his tires if you’d like♡!”

“what”

“nothing.”

AWHHH PONYBOY FOLLOWING YOU AROUND THE STORE LIKE A LOST PUPPY BECAUSE HE DOESN’T KNOW WHAT TO BUY LMFAO

he’d like holding your sleeve or the hem of your shirt as you walk around, looking more awkward above all else.

uwahh showering ponyboy in compliments late at night when it’s just the two of you, twirling his hair as you hold him closer!!!

“you’re hair is so pretty. it’s so soft…i dunno why you put grease in it. if i was you—i’d never let anyone touch it.”

“i don’t. i only let you.”

“…REALLY??🥰🥰😚😚”

ur friends are soooo sick of you talking about ponyboy LMFAOOOO like actually. every time you go, ‘omfg did i tell you guys, he-‘ they know to just let you mindlessly ramble.

“and then ponyboy read to me ‘til i fell asleep! he’s so sweet—i dunno how he’s real!”

“i dunno how you’re so whipped.”

“he must be the funniest motherfucker on the planet if y/n’s this obsessed.”

Sodapop Curtis

OHHH Y’ALL ARE AT A CONSTANT WAR TO SEE WHO’S GONNA BEAT THE OTHER AT BEING THE BETTER PARTNER LMFAOOO

HE’S usually the whipped one in the relationship…he felt both extremely lucky and threatened when you started attacking him with kisses…

“you’re so handsome. i’m just the luckiest person on earth—ain’t i?”

“…yeah…🤨”

“why’d you say it like that?😞”

“cause I’M the luckiest person on the earth…I’M supposed to be tellin’ you this…”

but as time goes on—he does take the loss and accepts you’re better at him. for now. it’s only a matter of seconds until sodapop thinks of something insane to show his love for you.

anyways! IMAGINE COOKING WITH HIM OHHHH NY GODDDDD /?:&$:&: he just mainly stands there and looks pretty as he asks what you’re doing but SHHH. HE’S MORAL SUPPORT.

“…what?”

“i’m chopping onions for the flavour, honey.”

“you don’t like onions, though?”

“i don’t like the crunch rather than the flavou—YOU REMEMBERED I DON’T LIKE ONIONS??☹️☹️”

“of course i would!”

gladly holds ur hand 24/7. i’m not kidding. you two are like super magnets. HEHEHE IMAGINE HIM DRIVING WITH ONE HAND ON THE WHEEL AND HIS OTHER HAND HOLDING YOURS!!/!2!

you do take him grocery shopping. only sometimes, though. he only buys junk food rather than actual food.

“can i get these? please?”

“you already have two bags of chips in the cart, soda.”

“okay..😣”

“SIGH…get them.”

“HURRAY!”

knows you can’t say no to him and that’s like the only time he uses it to his advantage.

soc’s do hit on you under the premise of ‘showing you how a real man is supposed to spoil a lady like you.’ HOWEVER, you look at them like they’re aliens.

“hey, baby. what’re you doin’ around here?”

“…EW.”

“???”

they’re shocked above all else as they see you turn away from them and quickly walk away without looking back. AND WOOO SODA IS SO PROUD.

Darry Curtis

the gang acts like you two are constantly fighting whenever you start to look at darry with that sparkle in your eyes.

“guys, PLEASE! YOU’RE BREAKING UP THE FAMILY! STOP ARGUING!”

“what the hell are you on about, soda?”

“you’re scaring pony!” “don’t bring me into this.”

“mind you’re own business, soda.”

AJDIEHJR DARRY HAVING A HAND AROUND YOUR WAIST AS YOU MUTTER SWEET NOTHINGS BETWEEN KISSINGS>>>

you two are a POWER COUPLE IN THE GROCERY STORE! EVEN IF YOU REFUSE TO LET HIM PAY AND HE GETS POUTTY! EVEN IF HE DOESN’T TAKE COMPLIMENTS WELL!

“y/n, please. these are for my house.”

“so?? my wallet was out first.”

“that doesn’t mean anything. baby, i’m telling you, i’m paying.”

“too late, i already handed the cashier the money.”

you cook and clean for the curtis’ to take something off of darry’s back out of the kindness in your heart and totally not because you want him to pay more attention to you!! NEVER!!

but you do enjoy the fact that darry has more time to sit down and pay attention to you! and darry really likes the extra time he has!!

“you didn’t have to.”

“yes i did! you’ve been so stressed out, it’s the least i could do for you.”

“you’re such a treat, y’know.”

“mh. only f’you.”

you FORCE him to hold your hand. sometimes he forgets that he’s supposed to hold your hand in public so do NOT BE AFRAID TO GRAB IT YOURSELF.

but once you do, darry is the last person to let go. maybe to wrap an arm around your hip—BUT THAT’S IT.

teehee leaving lipstick stains on his white t-shirt accidentally🫶🫶!! it’s all so real to me!! sure, darry’s a little annoyed but it’s okay! he can never be mad at you!

[lovebugism]

i feel like stevie definitely has a breeding kink it’s just like a gut feeling i have you know

✶ ┄ WHAT YOU WANT !

summary: steve harrington wants you to make him a dad pairing: steve harrington / f!reader warnings: smut. literally just smut. not a hint of a plot. 18+ mdni a/n: here i am with another smutty steve headcanon, can u believe it? all of these asks are doing some irreversible damage to my psyche i think

( MASTERLIST )

anon, you're absolutely right

obv steve wants a family everyone knows that

so i feel like once he’s settled down with a pretty serious gf, he’s got baby fever to the extreme

he just wants to mark you from the inside out

which could also stem from his lil jealousy problem bc he wants everyone to know that you belong to him

he’s got you on your back with your legs thrown over his shoulders

one hand presses into your lower stomach as he fucks you like it might be the last time he’ll ever get to do it

he pounds into you with his head tilted back, mouth agape and eyes squeezed shut

“gonna fill you up. over and over and— holy shit— over again. get you all nice and round for me— fuck”

he doesn’t even realize what he’s saying

he’s just rambling bc you’re making him feel so goddamn good

“fuck, stevie...” you whine with a scrunched up face as you near your own peak

you’ve got one hand clutching the wrist of the one he's got resting against your belly

while your other trails down his torso

your nails leave red scratches on his skin as they weave through the hair at his chest and settle at his happy trail

your back bows when he thrusts into you as deep as he can possibly go

and the moan you let out then stems from your fucking soul or smth it’s so guttural

it’s borderline embarrassing but you’re not even focusing on that

you’re mainly concerned at how violently your legs have tensed and started to shake around his shoulders

“move your hand” he tells you, suddenly stern

it’s not a request

you hadn’t even recognized your feeble attempt to stop him from drilling into you

but he just wants you to lay there all pretty for him

and let him give you everything he has to give you like a good girl

all you can do is whine because he’s fucked you so stupid

“not gonna tell you again, sweetheart”

even with your hand pressing against him, he rolls his hips slowly against yours

you’re so full and he’s already so deep, you can almost feel him in your throat

the pleasure he so effortlessly gives you is borderline overwhelming but you listen to him anyway

and he doesn’t waste any time before giving you long, deep strokes into your fluttering cunt

“there you go, baby. just like that. just like that. always so good for me… s’gonna make me come in this pussy”

you whine beneath him and tears burn as they well in your eyes

you need him to come in you more than you need to breathe

but you’re already so sensitive that it’s made you terrified of any more pleasure

you just wanna be a good girl for the man fucking you for all your worth

“that what you want, honey? wanna have my kids?”

you’re nodding before you even realize it with your kiss-bitten bottom lip caught between your teeth

“yeah, i know you do, baby. that’s why you’re such a slut for my dick, isn’t it?”

you keen at that

his words have you creaming around his cock while your mouth hangs in a silent moan

and he keeps on fucking you through it, turning you out like it’s nothing

you need him to fill you up

you want so badly for him to fuck you until you’re leaking around him

and steve gives you exactly what you want without you have to say a goddamn thing

his hips stutter as he whines

“fuck, honey. i’m about to come in this pussy… gonna have you— shit, baby— gonna have you all barefoot and pregnant for me— fuck, fuck, fuck—”

he comes in you barely a second later

his warmth blossoms in you like a flower and your walls flutter around him, suckling him in with greed

and he whines while you milk him for all he’s worth

have any blurb requests? send 'em here if you want!

[frvnkcastles]

LIKE HEAVEN ABOVE ➵ F. CASTLE

Summary: After Frank saves your life, you’re there for him through thick and thin.

Warnings: Violence, language, feminine nicknames, implied smut, mentions of death, reader is a teacher, reader wears glasses

Word count: 5.6k (wow)

Author’s note: Omggg y’all, I dug this up from my Pages app, it’s literally almost 3 years old and that’s why I’m a little nervous to post it but I thought it might actually be some of my best writing, so here we go :) It takes place through Daredevil season 2 all the way to the end of The Punisher Season 1, and I have to admit, I honestly feel like Frank was NOT ready for any kind of love interest during Daredevil but I took some creative liberties, anyway. So this is a little out of character on that front. I’m rambling, I hope you enjoy!! I’m gonna get back to your requests soon <3

Frank felt like somehow days passed by in a flurry yet every second dragged on like the worst torture he had endured — which was saying a lot considering the literal war he had gone through, and the fact he was currently lying in a hospital bed; broken, bruised and with a drilling hole in his foot. And yet waiting to see you was the one thing that got his confidence to falter, his brain to shortcircuit.

For a man so stubborn and determined to do things on his own, he had crumbled so fast when presented with the opportunity to see you again. He hadn’t even realized he had ended up caring about you so deeply, not until the blonde journalist had stepped into his room and the words just poured out of him.

”Would ya do me a favour?” Frank asked as the woman was leaving the room, his gruff voice so uncharacteristically meek and vulnerable, and therefore capable of turning her head immediately. ”Please”, he added weakly, ”my girl… I—there’s someone I need to see. Just once. Please.”

Maybe she was curious about meeting the one person who seemed to mean anything to The Punisher anymore; maybe she felt surprisingly bad for him or maybe it was both, but Karen found herself doing as he asked and tracked you down. She reached out and a few days later… you were walking down the hallways of the hospital, uncomfortably shifting the weight of your leather jacket from one arm to the other, your stomach churning in nervous anticipation.

The sight of several armed guards standing outside the room you were being walked to made you gulp, but you weren’t scared of the man inside. You were scared to see the kind of condition he was in, to fully comprehend the gravity of the situation, scared of the moment you’d have to walk out in the uncertainty if you’d ever see him again. But not him. Never him.

Something in Frank came to life when you appeared at the doorway; something he thought to be long dead and buried only for you to always revive him. He lifted his head from the worn pillows and sighed in some kind of relief, only for guilt to lodge into his heart when he saw you scanning his body.

He looked awful, no way around it. Littered in bruises so severe you could barely see his face, you struggled not to cry while looking at the multiple machines connected to him and the abundance of bandages on his tired limbs. What really got to you, though, was the handcuffs on his wrists and the straps across his chest and stomach to make sure there was no room for him to move any more than necessary to sit up and lie back down.

”Jesus…”, you sighed breathlessly, your hands beginning to shake as you walked over to him with a frown so deep it hurt his heart. He knew he might have been a selfish asshole for dragging you here, for making you see what he had tried to protect you from this whole time, for letting you get attached right before it would all go to shit, anyway. But he wasn’t strong enough to push you away. He was capable of enduring much, but he was weak when it came to you. He had tried it, at first, keeping you at arm’s length but you got under his skin in a way that was irreversible and it hurt more to resist than it did to give in. For him, anyway.

”Looks worse than it is, sweetheart”, he rasped, and with a scoff, you finally met his eyes only for the depth of them to catch you off-guard and make you choke on your own tongue. He looked just as attentive and kind as the day you had met him — you swore you’d never forget the way he had hid you behind the counter of the diner, looked right into your eyes and promised he’d make sure you’d make it to class tomorrow; what would the kids do without their teacher, after all?

”They said your foot was… that there was a…”, you stammered, hoping to counter his words with an argument that failed as soon as you tried to get it out. He had never judged you for your tendency to stutter, though, and he didn’t do it now, either. Simply nodded and let you process.

”Yeah. Yeah, there was”, he admitted quietly, licking his split lips as he watched you move to the chair next to his bed and slowly sink down. Even with all the pain in your eyes, you looked so beautiful in one of your worn band shirts and the skirt you had promptly tucked it into, your glasses heavy on your nose and the shimmer of your lipbalm like a red thread for Frank to hang onto like his life depended on it. Amidst all the chaos and ache of his recent weeks, he could just close his eyes and think back to you, and somehow he felt at peace. At least for a second.

”I wish I could… make it all better”, you whispered sadly, a lone tear rolling down your cheek as you looked at his bruised cheekbones.

Frank’s hand reached for yours only for the handcuffs to stop him, the noise of the movement alerting the guard outside the door and pulling a swear from Frank. When he settled his hand back by his side, the guard seemed to relax a little, making both of you sigh — the man wasn’t even allowed to hold your hand.

”Oh, sweetheart”, Frank whispered, ”that’s exactly what you do. You make all this shit better.” He managed a small smile as he tilted his head at you. ”I may just make it worse, but you? Christ, you…”, he struggled to put his thoughts into words, keeping you on your toes as he finally decided against it, ”I’preciate you comin’. I just, uh, I guess I wanted to see you before I get dragged into a courtroom and… yeah. Yeah, there’s no happy ending for me. But for a moment there, you helped me believe there might be”, he went on, only breaking your heart with each word.

You wiped your eyes and chuckled softly. ”You don’t give yourself enough credit, Frankie. You’ve really made things better for me, too. And you deserve a happy ending, however that might look for you”, you swore, casting your eyes at your trembling hands. ”I know it might be weird to say, but I’m grateful I met you. Life-threatening danger and all. You and everyone else may not see it the same way, but you are a good guy. You are”, you continued before sniffling and getting up from your chair enough to press a kiss on his forehead.

You were careful and gentle, unwilling to hurt him any more than he had already been hurt. Yet when you moved to pull away, Frank grunted and reached for your wrist, stopping you from leaving. For a moment, you were forehead to forehead, your lips inches away and his breath mixing with yours.

”Sit with me for a bit? Yeah?” Frank pleaded, and when you nodded, he swallowed and smiled weakly. ”That’s my girl.”

He didn’t see you again until the trial. He spotted you right there in the benches, dressed in your finest red shirt that had his thoughts running a million miles while being walked to the stand. He was dressed in a suit, too, and he almost wanted to laugh at the ridiculous thought of a date swirling in his head. Maybe, in another lifetime, that could have been reality — not him being on trial for murder with you trying to tune out the hate speech spewed at him from the other half of the courtroom.

Most of his bruises had healed by then. You found small comfort in that.

You didn’t get to tell him he looked good, though. You didn’t get to say a single thing when he was announcing his guilt with a booming roar, and the next thing you knew, he was being walked out of the courtroom with a prison sentence looming over his head. You didn’t blame him for doing what he did, and you certainly didn’t expect him to choose you over his morals. But nevertheless, you couldn’t help but cry as he was taken out of sight and you were left with the realization you may never see him again.

You were sitting outside on the steps of the courthouse when a strange hand extended a tissue for you. Just as you looked up, nearly blinded by the sunshine, you were glad you hadn’t said your thought out loud when you saw Frank’s lawyer poke his cane at the steps until he figured where to sit. He lowered himself next to you just as you took the tissue and thanked him for his kindness.

”You’re the woman”, he stated matter-of-factly, and when you turned to him in confusion, he chuckled quietly. ”I recognize your perfume. It… stuck to him”, he explained — even if his explanation remained vague — but you had no time to present any further questions when he continued. ”Frank Castle is not a talkative man. But I’ve noticed whenever he does speak, his words carry meaning. He doesn’t do small talk or state the obvious, he… he only shares what he considers important. And if that is the case, then… you are extremely important to him”, he elaborated before drawing in a deep breath and sending a small smile your way.

Your heart both broke and leaped at his words. You hadn’t exactly doubted it, but it meant a great deal to know Frank cherished you as much as you cherished him.

”And he is to me”, you returned quietly, pulling a slow nod from the man — Matt — who then turned his head at you curiously.

”If you don’t mind me asking… how does a teacher find herself with The Punisher?” he wondered, and considering it your turn to chuckle, you turned to your hands and recalled the night that had turned your life upside down.

”He saved my life. I know that’s how all the cliché fairytales go, but he did. I was at my favorite diner to get some grilled cheese after a long day of work. I was so close to making it, too, when these, uh, thugs came in. Looking for him, unsurprisingly. There was only one other person besides us and they managed to escape before the shooting began, so… Frank hid me behind the counter. He told me he’d keep me safe, that I’d get to see the kids I teach again the next day— he’d heard me talking to the cashier. He’d make sure of it. And he did. He took care of those guys and afterwards he walked me home. I—I owed him my life so I figured the least I could do was ice his knuckles. He must have been barely ten minutes in my apartment but it meant everything. We just… couldn’t get rid of each other after that”, you explained, the sunlight suddenly feeling warmer on your skin and the smile on your lips so free of worry. For a second, anyway.

Matt listened intently — not only to what you were saying, but you. And it didn’t take him long to come to a conclusion. ”You love him”, he declared, and with your head snapping towards him, you frowned.

”We haven’t—there’s nothing—”, you began, your stutter seeping through again, and Matt smiled.

”Whether or not you’ve acted on it, I can hear it. You’ve fallen in love with him”, he emphasized before humming, ”and I think, somewhere deep down underneath all that trauma and guilt and unwillingness to face the facts… he feels the same way.”

You stared at him, disbelief all over your face as you thought about Frank and all your brief touches, all your sweet words and reassuring looks.

”Could you tell him I’ll be right here? Please? Just… let him know that even if I can’t be by his side, he’s not alone”, you whispered, and although he seemed to consider it for a second, Matt ended up nodding.

”I’m sure he’s gonna need that.”

And he wasn’t wrong. Prison was no easy feat, not even for The Punisher.

He hadn’t even gotten to say goodbye to you. One moment he was sitting in court, listening to his vigilante of a lawyer speak on his behalf, and the next he was being dragged out in chains with your worried face amongst the angry civilians being the last thing he saw. And the big bad Punisher had gone so far as to beg Karen to let him see you for the second time; let you see him, but before she could even consider making it happen, he had been shoved into a white onesie and sent on his way to prison with his jagged memories trying hard to recall the last words you had spoken to him.

It had been something kind — that much he had decided on while sitting in his cell. You were always so fucking kind, and so understanding, even when he doubted he deserved it. You were a good person; a troubled one but you had weathered every storm and stuck to your morals, and he admired that to no end. You didn’t have a judgmental bone, not a single ounce of hatred for anyone who didn’t deserve it, sometimes not even those who did. He thought that maybe he was unworthy of your friendship and sympathy sometimes, but you gave it to him anyway, without question and without expectation. You liked him for who he was, not who he had been, and you didn’t try to change his mind and steer his path.

At least he had the message Red had passed onto him to keep him going.

It was those unexplainably good-hearted intentions of yours and the unconditional support he hadn’t realized he missed so much, that made him fall in love with you. He struggled with it for a while, wondering if he was ready; if he should have felt guilty, but eventually the desire to keep you safe and the longing to hold you close became too evident to ignore.

And he truly knew when one of the assholes he had put down had taunted him about his lady, only for his mind to go to you instead of Maria.

He had been writing a letter to you when his heart-pouring onto paper was interrupted by a taunting laugh outside his cell. ”Writing a love letter to your lady?” one of the gang members in his block teased, and with a grit in his teeth, Frank forced himself to not pick a fight — a successful attempt until the burly man went on. ”Would be a shame if anyone got their hands on your girl now that you ain’t out there to protect—”, he continued, his words cut off with a wheeze when Frank clamored out of his seat and promptly stabbed the pen into his neck. It was a good thing he had already signed the letter.

Realistically, he knew it may have been an empty threat. Nonetheless, as soon as he was out of prison, the letter tucked in the pocket of his jacket, he made his way to you. Making you were safe was priority number one — and if he’d get the chance to hand over the envelope and open his heart to you… Well, that would just be the cherry on top. He had promised to get out and tell you how he felt, to stop being a coward and admit that he wanted to be there for you, that he loved you, and that was exactly what he planned on doing.

Although, things never went exactly as planned.

He had so much determination and courage in his heart when he knocked on your door, but as soon as you opened it and your short figure appeared right in front of him, it all drained from his system. All he was left with was bare amazement and the reserved hope that you’d still welcome him into your home — he knew he had burned more than enough bridges with his little stunt in court, and he had spent many sleepless nights wondering if he had scared you off, too. That worry only now flared into a genuine fear as he watched astonishment wipe across your face, his own expression meek and his large body trying to shrink on itself to seem less intimidating.

”Hey, sweetheart”, he managed, his voice raspy as ever, his dark eyes scanning your face and trying to make sense of the speechless trance you had been stunned into.

It was justified, of course. Who would expect a convicted criminal on their doorstep?

That wasn’t exactly what was on your mind, though. You had never doubted that Frank would get back up somehow; he couldn’t be kept down — but you couldn’t believe he had come to you. A man like him surely had places to be, people to kill, things to do and somehow… he was right there in front of you in all his glory, not bleeding out and in need of stitches, either. Just… there.

You didn’t realize how emotional the sight of him had gotten you until you opened your mouth and the words escaped you with a choke. ”Is it okay if I hug you?” you cracked, and with a deep, even relieved sigh, Frank let his tense shoulders drop and his head bob in a nod as he opened his arms.

He welcomed you gladly, his big arms winding around your smaller body to encompass you against his entirely. He realized then that you were wrapped up in one of the hoodies he had left behind, his confidence boosting but his heart breaking just a little at the thought of you sitting at home alone in his clothes, comforted by his scent and wondering if he’d ever come back to you. And right there and then, he knew he had made the right choice in doing so.

”I missed you”, you whispered into his chest, your heart doing somersaults at the firmness of it, your eyes fallen shut as you breathed him in and basked in his warmth and all his rough edges that only confirmed he was real and not a figment of your imagination, not a daydream, even if he had occupied nearly all of them for the past months.

”Missed ya too, girl”, he muttered into your hair, and as he held you there, grateful to have you again, the doubt began creeping in and the letter in his pocket started to seem like a bad idea. What if it would simply push you away, just when he got you in his arms?

Swallowing, he then decided maybe it was better not to bring it up.

”Hey, I, uh…”, he cleared his throat when you stepped back to welcome him into your apartment. He treaded carefully, like any second now you’d change your mind and turn him away — and he wouldn’t blame you, either. Trouble followed him wherever he went, and yet he couldn’t stop himself from coming to you every time. ”Look, there’s… a lot going on, y’know? Some shit might go down and I just…”, he continued, uncertain of his own words as his gaze fell to the nervously fiddling hands in front of him, ”I don’t want ya to look at the news and rethink the kinda guy I am, y’know?”

Chuckling, you shook your head at him. ”The news couldn’t change my mind about you, Frankie”, you reassured in a way that had his chest tightening. ”You’re my friend and—and a good guy, even if with… unique methods. But you are. Just because you have blood on your hands, doesn’t make you a bad man”, you went on, but he could tell you were nervous, too. He just couldn’t see past himself enough to understand it wasn’t fear making you tremble.

”I think you are loyal and sweet and protective and… capable of making people feel safe and appreciated. When I’m with you, I feel respected and understood. Never judged or unsafe”, you added, and with an amazed twinkle in his dark eyes, Frank looked up at you. Jesus, that was exactly how he felt around you. His lungs and throat were screaming at him to just tell you, but instead, he gave you a doubtful tilt of his head.

”You’re not scared?” he confirmed quietly, and with a small smile, you gave him a look.

”I’m not scared of you, Frank. I’m…”, you breathed in, hesitating before widening your smile and shaking your head, ”I’m not scared.” What you really wanted to tell was that you were nervous because you liked him — loved him. But you never felt threatened by him.

”Good”, he swallowed, defiance suddenly ablaze in his eyes as he seemed to relax. ”’Cause I’d never hurt ya. Shit, you make me wanna…”, he laughed, unsure where he was going with that thought. ”I just wanna keep you safe, sweetheart. Look after you”, he finished with a sigh, the kind that knew he was officially in too deep. You got him good.

”Then I’ll look after you, too”, you promised, gesturing at his hands, ”starting with those knuckles of yours.”

He was almost amused, but when you seriously dug a small tube of hand cream from your bag and began rubbing the lotion onto his bruised hands, all he could do was stare at you, completely enamored by your kindness and the feeling of your gentle hands tending to his damaged ones.

It was almost ironic, really — you were gentle, he was damaged. In your mind, it was the other way around, and maybe that was why it worked. You were different in so many ways but the bare essentials were still there, making you an undeniable match even if neither of you were brave enough to say it out loud right now. But him being in your apartment and you lotioning his calloused hands spoke in volumes, reassuring you both that it was safe like this.

He hadn’t been wrong, though. Shit hit the fan fast and in a matter of days, Frank Castle was a dead man as far as the world was concerned.

Before that, though, he was coaxed further into the realization of just how important you were to him. He was used to nightmares, in fact, he anticipated them each night. And yet, that night, his hands still smelling like your vanilla lotion, he found himself dreaming of you, your big smile, your sweet laugh and your soft lips.

Jesus Christ, he wanted you so bad. All of you.

It was a little harder to go about his mission then. You occupied his mind constantly now, and he began to resent himself for being such a coward and not giving you the letter, after all.

And when he jumped off an exploding ship, he wondered if he’d ever get the chance to tell you. Once he made it out in one piece, he decided he couldn’t risk losing the opportunity again.

You had just seen the news on the TV, and as badly as you wanted to believe no body meant no death, your stomach was twisting and turning. The idea of Frank being gone, just like that, was one that began chipping at your sanity. Thankfully, you didn’t get to sit with it for very long when there was a knock on your door, and you practically ran to open it, never more relieved to see the hunk of a man.

You tugged him into your apartment and sealed the door behind him before hugging him tight, on the verge of tears as you felt his firm body against yours and consoled yourself. He was there. He was alive. Well? Debatable.

”I’m okay, sweetheart, ’m okay. Can’t get rid of me that easy”, he chuckled darkly, his heart skipping a beat when you pulled away and looked right into his eyes. You looked so beautiful yet so vulnerable, and he couldn’t put his feelings into words when he realized he had gotten you so worked up. He hated to cause you any pain, but to know you cared that much?

”Shit…”, he breathed, licking his lips as he gently placed a hand on your jaw and groaned. ”C’mere”, he whispered before leaning down to kiss you, both your eyes closing as he placed his lips on yours, deep and tentative. You melted closer to him, your hands resting on his vest while he cupped your face and kissed you hard, breathing you in and reveling in the taste and feeling of you.

It was better than he had imagined, all anger and hatred leaving his system for the fleeting moment when he got to have just you, nothing else.

He wanted to take his sweet time with you but the yearning was too great to contain. In no time, you were lying on your back on your mattress with Frank on top of you, trying to hold back some of his weight as he kissed your neck and unzipped your skirt. He muttered words of praise and flattery against your soft skin, eyes blown wide with genuine admiration when he kissed his way down to your thighs and made you repeat his name in desperate begs and pleas.

A part of him was sure he was dreaming again, your head rested upon his bare chest, his fingers carding through your hair as you listened to his heartbeat and basked in the afterglow of the hours spent together. It was the middle of the night by now, the sounds of city never fully gone but toned down, your bed feeling like a safe haven amidst all the chaos around you both.

But Frank knew there was no permanent escape from what he had reshaped his life into. The thing was, you didn’t want to be an escape — you wanted to be part of it.

Nevertheless, he spoke up gruffly. ”Y’know I can’t stay, right?” he was quiet, his words a weak whisper, like a shameful confession he didn’t want the world to know. ”I mean, I’mma be with you tonight if you’ll let me, but I… I can’t leave things unfinished. The world thinks ’m dead, y’know, that’s just… It’s an advantage and I just—”, he went on, but you interjected with a nod and your hand smoothing up and down his chest soothingly.

”I know. I understand”, you promised before kissing his collarbone softly, ”I know, Frank. You don’t need to explain any more than you want to.”

He swallowed then, trying to muster up the courage to say what had been on his mind for so long. ”I, uh, I can’t ask you to hold out hope for me, but uh… I just want you to know…”, he tried to find the right words, licking his lips nervously before sighing and burying his face in your hair with a somber kiss. ”You don’t owe me shit. But you’re the best thing to happen to me in a long time. Look, I gotta do my thing, but I don’t want you to think it’s easy to walk away from you because, fuck… I don’t wanna lose ya, sweetheart”, he explained further, making you smile against his scarred skin.

”I will always hold out hope for you, Frank. My door will always be open for you”, you replied simply, and even though you didn’t elaborate further, it was all he needed to hear. Just knowing you weren’t ready to give up on him.

And that was why he wasn’t going to do it, either.

He kept in touch in whatever small, Frank-esque ways he could. A note on your door, a novelty mug on your windowsill, a comforting message from an unknown number. Sometimes all you had was the remains of his aftershave enveloped in the sweaters he had left behind, or the slander of his name on the news even when he was presumed dead — it was small but it reminded you that he was, in fact, alive, and as long as he was that, then you had faith that one day he’d be back on your doorstep.

Sometimes he felt like an irredeemable asshole for making you wait for him. If only you had the chance, you would have told him to get his head out of his ass — you had fallen for him, and whether he wanted you to be there or not, you would have thought about him, worried over him, longed for him. He could have tried to distance himself from you if he wanted to, but he was so deeply entwined into your life by now that all the roots simply couldn’t be plucked out anymore.

And he may have been stubborn, but he wasn’t stupid. Knowing how he felt about you, how being away from you made him ache, he suspected you shared the yearning and he knew that trying to push you away wouldn’t have healed either of you from it. So he kept in contact however he could, but not too close to keep his enemies off your trail.

You checked the news every day. And when you saw Billy Russo’s face plastered across your screen, his arrest making the headlines, you knew it was a good day.

Accordingly, there was promptly a knock on your door, and you felt your heart soar as you peeked through the peephole and saw the only man worth waiting for on the other side. You swung the door open, and in an instant, a smile stretched across his bruised face as he help up a bouquet of daffodils, making you grin, too.

”Hey, sweetheart”, he murmured, pulling you into a hug that shut off your senses from everything but him — all you smelled, felt and heard was him, your systems threatening to fail as you clung onto him like your life depended on it and felt his lips leave soft kisses on your forehead and hair. ”There ya are. As goddamn beautiful as I remembered”, he whispered, relieved to be holding you again, even a little proud of himself for making it here.

It wasn’t like he needed the extra motivation on all those long nights away — avenging his family was all the fuel he craved, but knowing that at the end of it all, he had someone to fall back on, encouraged him even more.

”I could say the same about you”, you chuckled while pulling away enough to place a gentle hand on his face and observe all the purple and yellow markings left there. It was obvious he had taken a beating, but if the news was to be trusted, Billy had suffered a fate much worse. And despite all the slowly healing scars on Frank’s sharp features, he was alive, and he was right there for you to admire and tend to.

”This ugly mug?” he snorted while kicking the door shut and pushing his hood off of his head, his hair grown out again and begging for your fingers to run through. Regardless of the mangled appearance, though, he seemed almost hopeful, a small smile playing on his lips as he looked down at you with a twinkle in his dark eyes. He seemed exhausted physically, but mentally, a little less tired. And that made you indescribably happy for him.

”I’m proud of you”, you breathed out, a smile crawling to your own face, ”you did what you needed to do, right? You… you did good. You deserve to rest now.”

Frank looked a little taken aback by your words. Not in a bad way, but it was obvious no one had told him before nor had he expected anyone to. But the quiet chuckle that rose from his throat was genuinely flattered, as was the squint of his eyes as he leaned forward and gave you a tiny nod.

”Thank you, sweetheart. Really”, he rasped before taking in a deep breath, ”any chance I’d, uh, get to rest here? With you?” The look in his eyes was almost boyish, almost nervous, and it made your heart soar the same way his gaze had the first night you had met.

”Always, Frankie”, you promised before placing a hand on his chest and beaming up at him, ”I was hoping you’d say that.”

He licked his lips and looked down at you, hand coming to your neck tenderly with his thumb brushing across your chin. ”I feel like shit for the way I left you back then. I, uh, I hope you didn’t feel like I was just… tryna get in your bed, y’know? It was more than that to me. You are more than that to me. It’s, I dunno, hard for me to put it into words but I care about ya. More than I have about anyone in a long time, I guess”, he explained awkwardly, but you didn’t doubt his sincerity for a single second.

You leaned up to briefly kiss him, and the way he leaned forward to get more made your stomach churn. Nevertheless, you pulled apart to speak your turn, your smaller hand still resting on his bruised cheek.

”I know. I never doubted it. And I don’t expect you to be anyone else but you. I want you as you, Frank”, you reassured, and with a heavy sigh, he dropped his forehead to yours.

”Girl… I want you”, he urged, and you smiled as he briefly touched your lips with the tip of his finger.

”I’m all yours, Frankie.”

[myhaikyuuacademia]

Totally fake | Ant x Reader (Heartbreak High)

Fake dating, fem!reader A/N: it’s been a while since I watched s1 so forgive me if the timeline is a little wonky. Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

You had no idea how you got yourself in this… situation. In this mess, honestly. Thanks to Amerie, the whole school life had imploded. Thanks a lot, Map Bitch. Now here you were, standing next to her trying to get a ticket for the party as Ant told her about how his mom reacted to the whole Darren wristy thing. Your face twinged up in sympathy. Somehow Quinni and Darren had adopted Amerie into your friendgroup after the whole thing, so here you were, supporting your new friend. Well, it was more like she dragged you along. Moral support or something. Ant ended up telling Ams to go ask Spider and she trudged away disappointed, but you stayed, hesitating. “Um, I’m sorry about your mom.” You offered. What a stupid thing to say, you cursed yourself. Boys made you nervous. “Yeah, it really sucks. I love Jesus and all but going to church 3 more times a week is reaaaaally boring.” He groaned. You began walking to your next class together. “Um.” You started talking before you could think. You were a fixer, it was a whole thing. A pathological need to fix things, which is why you couldn’t really be against Quinni and Darren taking Amerie in, you wanted to help fix this. But sometimes in your need to fix things you went a little overboard. You realized that that was what you were doing after you had already started talking, and now you didn’t know what to say. But being quiet now was also embarrassing. “What’s up?” Ant stopped and leaned against the doorway of your classroom. Looking at you expectantly. Fuck it. “Maybe I could help.” You looked at him. “With your mom I mean.” He looked confused, his brows furrowing as he tried to figure out what you were proposing. “How?” Taking a deep breath in, you began rambling the plan that had formed in your head in the span of maybe 10 seconds. Which in hindsight, perhaps was a sign that this was a really dumb idea. “Well. I’m assuming your moms problem is that Darren is not a girl. Because you’re Christian and all. Which, I don’t know, not very Christian, ya know? Loving your neighbour and all. But anyway. If her problem is in fact that, I am a very good liar, I know enough about like the bible and stuff, and I happen to be a girl…” You trail off. He looked as confused as he did before you started talking, which, honestly, you figured this would not be enough to get him to understand. It was just too embarrassing to finish. You felt cold all of a sudden. Nervous. Rubbing your arms for warmth, or perhaps in an attempt to rub the nervousness away. “I’m saying I could be your fake girlfriend until she calms down.” You finally huffed out. “Ohhhhhhh” You swore you could almost see the lightbulb that went off above his head. “Gotcha.” He nodded contemplatively. “You’re really smart, y/n, I’m impressed.” Still nodding. You were a little surprised he knew your name. People tended to not know it because you mostly kept to yourself outside of your friendship with Darren and Quinni. And you hadn’t talked to Ant before, like literally ever. Yeah you shared a lot of classes, but he didn’t really seem to pay attention and so far you had never been paired with him for any group work. “Let’s do it.” He grinned, excitedly. “Wait what?” Your eyes widened in surprise. “For real?” You didn’t know what you expected his answer to be, but for some reason you hadn’t prepared yourself for a yes.

“Yeah! I’m in! I only see positives honestly. I get to pretend to date the coolest girl I know and get my mom off my back.” Wait, what did he say? The coolest girl he knows? Huh? You blinked in confusion as he left you standing in front of the open door to go to his seat. Autopilot activated you went to your seat, in between Darren and Quinni. Completely zoned out your eyes trained on Ant who was sitting a couple rows ahead and to your right. “Earth to y/n, repeat Earth to y/n.” A hand was waving in front of your face and you blinked as you turned to Darren. “huh?”. “What’s wrong with you today, space girl?” They asked. “What?” Your brain hadn’t completely caught up yet. “Why were you talking to Ant?” Quinni asked excitedly. Why was she excited? “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you talk to him before.” She mused. Uh. What were you supposed to tell them? Both of them looked at you expectantly. Completely frozen, your brain refused to cooperate. “I.. uh. Amerie. Party. Slapband. You know?” The words were more stuttered out than said, and they did in fact not know what you meant.  Your saviour came in the form of a very out-of-breath Amerie, who was almost late to class, but just almost. She fell into her seat next to Quinni and immediately started babbling about whatever it was she was up to after she had left you and Ant, taking all attention off of you. And if they saw you staring at Ant the whole class, they didn’t say anything. Yet.

By the end of the school day you had bounced back, the whole Ant thing still nagging at a corner of your brain but not at the front anymore. Until you were walking out the school gate with Darren, Quinni and Amerie, that is. “Hey, y/n, Wait up!.” This caught the attention of your more than nosy friends. You stopped and turned around to see Ant jogging up with a stupidly cute grin on his face. “Um, hi, what’s up?” Your face felt unusually flushed. Your friends looked at you like they were vultures and you, and the ensuing gossip that would come from this, their prey. You didn’t need to look at them to know that. “Here.” He held out a slapband. “You don’t have one yet, do you?” “No, I don’t, actually.” You were about to tell him that you were not interested. Partys? Not your thing. But the way he looked at you, and the fact that he got you one and went out of his way to give it to you, rendered you incapable of rejecting it. He was waiting for you to take it, or do something to accept it, so you lifted your arm and held it out in front of him. He slapped it on your arm and you mumbled out a thank you. “No worries, babe.” He leaned in and gave you quick peck on the cheek before he proceeded to wink at you and then leave with a wave and a “See you later!”. You almost dropped to your knees. What the hell just happened. Wide-eyed you looked after him, hand lifting to touch the cheek he had just kissed, legs still awfully wobbly. “BABE?!?!?!” A chorus of awestruck half-yells ripped you out of your moment, seconds before your friends came into view in front of you and crowded you. This was… too much. You gave up trying to keep your legs steady and dropped down to the ground, sitting on your knees, before shifting to sit criss-cross applesauce. “Whoa, shit girl, you okay?” Amerie dropped down next to you. Not trusting your voice you simply nodded yes. “Oh my god, you and Anthony Vaughn?” Darren crouched down next, almost scandalized by what they had just witnessed. “Oh, are we sitting now?��� Quinni, bless her, sat down next to you. “Yeah…” You just said, to no one in particular, nodding. “Oh my god, you’re like, a total goner.” Amerie laughed. “I am?” You turned to look at her with puppy-dog eyes. Before this day started, you had never talked to Anthony Vaughn before, and now, before it ended, you were apparently head over heels for him. You blamed it on hormones, or some kind of chemical inbalance in your brain. Because… there was no way, right?

This would make the fake-dating significantly harder, you concluded, after you had time to mull it over. You and your friends had continued sitting on the ground for a good 10 minutes, before you felt stable enough to attempt standing and walking again. Of course they all had a million questions, yelling simultaneously, trying to understand what they had just witnessed. You had no idea what to tell them. “I will tell you once I know.” You end up saying, which leads to more questions. “Seriously guys, not right now.” You couldn’t tell them anything before you lined up stories with Ant. Well, technically you could tell them it was all fake, but they were all huge blabbermouths, and you wanted to check in with Ant first, before doing anything. You hadn’t expected him to just… go and do that. Like, at least you had expected talking to him once, or maybe twice, about what being in a fake relationship entailed, you know, lining up stories, where, what, who, when…. What kind of person his mother was, how far to go, how much to do to make it believable. But now everything had kind of blown up and it had to wait. You didn’t even have his number, you realized, after you were finally alone. The gang had tried to peer-pressure you into making this a whole goss-sesh at the diner, but you managed to worm your way out of it. Now they would probably just do it anyway, but without you to defend yourself. Not that there was anything you could say right now. Frustrated you blew a piece of hair out of your face. This was gonna be one hell of a week.

[littlebluespoon]

Unstuck (Octo!König Part 3)

Happy Halloween! Have a little treat on me <3

This one is dedicated to the lovely anon who filled my ask box with octo!König ideas. I couldn't not use the nipple piercing one, its like it was made for octopus!König.

Part 1 - Stuck Part 2 - Stuck (Again) Part 4 - Stranded

<1K, 18+, nipple piercings, top half nudity, angst

Anyway, without further rambling, part 3! Have fun!

Your three weeks of leave were wonderful, spending time with family, catching up with friends and even treating yourself a little. Your friends had dared you to get piercings and after much debate and convincing yourself that no one would know you were breaking regulations as they’d be under your clothes at all times, you got yourself nipple piercings.

Returning to base and to work meant you were kept busy. Enough that you barely had time to worry about anyone finding out your little secret. In fact, you had nearly forgotten all about them the day it happened. There was nothing wrong with the day, it had been a standard day, nothing remarkable and no issues had cropped up. You had only dealt with some cuts and bruises so the paperwork you had to do was minimal, and as you mindlessly finished it up your mind drifted to dinner. The door slamming made you jump. There in the doorway stood Horangi, 

“Take him! Before I rip his arms off!” He shouted at you, throwing a ball towards your desk. Before you could respond, he was gone and the ball was moving towards you. 

Unable to process the last few seconds it took the feel of tentacle on your arm to move you into action,

“König? What’s wrong?” Seeing as your last few experiences with the hybrid involved him being injured, you made a beeline for your aquatic med kit and towards a patient bed.

“Come on, let me get a look at you,” you tried pulling him off but were as unsuccessful as ever. He just continued up your arm towards his favourite spot which is when you began to panic,

“No König! Just stay where you are, okay?” Attempting to use your free hand and block him from continuing up your body while making sure he wasn’t bleeding, wasn’t the easiest of tasks. Especially not while you scrambled for an excuse as to why he couldn’t be attached to your chest,

“I uhh… I took a hit in training. I’m bruised, yeah. Eh, I’m all bruised so you can’t sit there today.” Seeing that there didn’t seem to be anything physically wrong with him you walked back to your desk, closing the door as you went. König seemed to consider what you were saying, he stopped his climbing efforts and stared at you. You who had suddenly found so much more paperwork that needed doing. 

Settling back into a rhythm of paperwork with König on your arm was fairly easy and it lasted a while. Enough that you had distracted yourself in checkboxes and signatures and your heartrate had come back down to normal. Until König reached out a tentacle and brought it hammering down across your chest. With a yelp and a flinch, you dropped everything,

“König! What the hell was that for huh?!” You stared down at his beady eyes, in a stand off with him. He moved closer and you flinched, one of his arms were held aloft, swaying gently in the air and every so often it found its way closer to you. Distracted by the arm in the air, you never even noticed the other two, as quick as lighting, they darted forward and ripped your shirt open. 

Your unmarred chest stared back at him. And you could have sworn his expression was that of a raised eyebrow. You, too frozen to react to anything, standing there as he worked the rest of your clothes off until he found what you were hiding. No bruises. Two little metal bars. A rapid heartbeat.

“It’s not like anyone else knows. And besides, if you weren’t such a pervert, you wouldn’t know!” Your defence was shaky, even you knew it, “Can’t just respect someone’s boundaries can you? You’ve got to have whatever you want.” Lashing out in an attempt to keep from crying as you pulled your shirt across your chest but you found your efforts hampered by König as he began climbing up again, 

“No!” Brining an arm across your chest to protect your nipples, you shout at him, “They can’t be touched so just shimmy your way back down. And while you’re at it, why don’t you just get off?” He freezes at your words, you’ve been annoyed at him in the past but never angry. Never upset. 

As he pulls himself off to sit on your desk you bring a hand to your eyes, desperate to remove any evidence of tears before turning away from him to find a new shirt. Cleaning yourself up, removing the small spots of spilled ink on your arms and coving yourself in a spare shirt you made your way back to your desk. Expecting to find a grumpy octopus instead you’re met with a puddle of ink ruining your paperwork and not a bit of orange in sight.

___

As always my ask box is open for asks and requests <3

[midnightsnyx]

Quinn Hughes - meet cute

pairing: quinn hughes x reader

requested: yes / no

a/n: it’s super late but I hope you like it anyways! requests are open & here is the link for my writing guide

word count: 750 words

You’ll admit, it isn’t exactly your most dignified moment, sitting on the dirty floor with your arm stuck in the vending machine but you were sure you’d be able to reach the bag of chips if you just reached in. Instead, you look like an idiot who didn’t think before you did it. It’s late and you know most people have left the roller skating rink at this point, including your friends who you brushed off when they offered to come with you while you grabbed a snack before you left.

So, you’re sitting on the floor waiting for someone to walk by because your phone died before you could call anyone. It’s been over twenty minutes and your arm is starting to feel a bit numb when you hear someone. You stretch as far as you can to see who it is, hopefully security or maintenance, but it’s a group of guys. They look familiar and you can’t quite put your finger on it but it’s the last thing on your mind at this point because you can’t feel your fingertips.

They’re laughing about something and clearly haven’t noticed you yet which is why one of them nearly trips over you. He catches himself from falling and looks down at you in surprise.

“Oh shit,” he says with wide eyes. “Are you okay?”

You gesture to your trapped arm. “No.”

Normally, you’d feel bad for being so short with someone but you were hoping for someone who could help you with your current situation and these three don’t look like they’ll be very helpful.

“How’d you get your arm stuck in there?” One of them asks curiously, kneeling down next to you and peering inside where your arm is.

You can feel your cheeks heating up and embarrassment takes over. They’re all cute, but the one kneeling next to you catches your eye.

“I was trying to reach the chips when they got stuck,” you mumble and he presses his lips together like he’s trying not to smile. He clears his throat when you scowl at him, and he looks back at your arm.

“I think we can get it out,” he murmurs, reaching his hand in and gripping your arm. He gently twists your wrist and pulls on your arm and it comes out easily.

You shake your arm until feeling starts to return before looking at him. He’s still kneeling next to you and watching for your reaction.

“Thanks,” you eventually say, standing up and he quickly scrambles to his feet.

“I’m Quinn,” he says and offers his hand. You shake it and tell him your name before looking at the two other guys standing behind him. He must notice your attention is elsewhere because he glances at them. “That’s Jack and Luke.”

It suddenly clicks why they look so familiar.

The Hughes brothers.

“Um, I was gonna grab something to eat at the diner across the road, if you wanted to come with,” he says and Luke mumbles, “you were?”

You don’t miss Jack stepping on Luke’s foot, and you cough to cover a laugh.

“Sure,” you tell him and his face lights up.

“Awesome,” he says, trying to play it cool but his brothers are grinning at him like fools.

“Catch you back at the apartment Quinn,” Jack says, already walking away and pulling Luke with him.

You can hear Luke mumbling, “I didn’t know he was going out. He didn’t even ask us.”

. . .

It’s a 24 hour diner and your phone is dead so you don’t realize how fast the time is going until Quinn looks at his phone and swears under his breath.

“I’ve got practice at 8,” he says and shows you the time.

2:38am

Then he pauses, and looks at you.

“I’m a hockey player,” he explains and you realize that he doesn’t think that you know who he is.

“I know,” you tell him and he pauses again before: “you should come to a game sometime. I mean, y’know if you want to. No pressure. Since we just met.”

And as endearing as his rambling is, you decide to put him out of his misery.

“I’d like that,” you tell him. “Just send me the time and place.”

. . .

He ended up scoring 3 goals and 2 assists that game. When he points to you after his third goal, and he mouths “that one was for you”, you can’t help but think that maybe, just maybe this can go somewhere.

[tartarusknight]

Eddie Joins the Family

Eddie didn’t think that he would get a big family when he pulled Dustin, Mike, and Lucas into Hellfire. He didn’t think it would happen but it did. One day, after school he’s stopped short at the sound of his name. He stopped and glanced back to see a redheaded girl. She looked familiar but he couldn’t place her. She had a skateboard under her arm and a determined look on her face. “You’re Eddie Munson right?”

Eddie frowned, “I don’t sell to kids.”

Her nose wrinkled, “ew. I’m Max, Lucas’s girl- we’re friends.” She stumbles a little and his eyebrow raised. 

She rolled her shoulders back, “can you give me a ride home? I missed the bus and we’re neighbors. I can give you embarrassing stories of any of the boys,” she waves her hand but he can see her nerves. 

“Sure,” he shrugged and she brightened. However, she was definitely trying to hide her emotions. “Our chariot awaits, milady.” He opened the door for her a swept his hand towards his shitty van. However, it didn’t stop there. Suddenly he was driving her more and more. Even though she didn’t even join his club! Okay, but she was quickly becoming one of his favorite freshman anyways. 

But Max wasn’t the only one. One day he ran into Nancy Wheeler and she actually stopped him. “Eddie, right?” Her eyes were hard and he shifted nervously. He gave her a small nod and she cleared her throat. “Mike’s really looking up to you lately.”

Eddie grimaced, “he could’ve picked someone better.”

She nods in agreement which stings only a little. He knew it was true. “You’re going to meet me twice a week. Give me your schedule.” She ordered and he stood there dumbfounded. “It wasn’t an option, come on.” She waved her hand. 

So he took a moment and wrote it all down before handing it over. She frowned, maybe at his shitty hand writing or the way it was kind of jumbled. “We have study hall the same hour. I’ll get a pass and I’ll meet you.”

“Uh, why?”

Her glare was terrifying, “because if he’s going to look up to you than you can give him a good example. I’m not going to let you keep failing all your classes and show him what it’s okay.” She snapped and Eddie wasn’t sure if he’s ever been this shocked before. “Understand?”

“Aye, aye, captain.” He gave her a weak salute before she turned and walked off. 

Then suddenly he and Nancy were working together often and in the few classes they shared she offered to be paired with him. It was freaky and his friends were just as weirded out as he was. But he had to admit that as they met after school a few times, that maybe, just maybe they were becoming friends. It wasn’t confirmed until one day she was painting his nails as he rambled about an idea he had for a campaign. Except she wasn’t just listening, she was giving him tips and helping him develop it even better. 

And with Nancy came Karen Wheeler. The woman would give him baked goods and thank him for all he was doing with Mike. It was weird but she made amazing cookies so he dealt with it and fucking Ted who didn’t deserve Karen. However, it got even worse when he made a comment that he mostly cooked for himself and his uncle since Wayne worked the worst hours. That had him in the kitchen with Sue Sinclair, Claudia Henderson, and you guessed it, Karen Wheeler. 

The three moms taught him all their tips and tricks, telling him he could impress any girl with his new skills. He didn’t say he wasn’t interested in any girls. Instead, he grinned and took all the information he could. It became a weekly thing and he got all the good gossip that wasn’t high school bullshit. And he gave them all the high school bullshit they wanted. 

And suddenly he became a babysitter for his younger friends. The freshman were annoyed at the development and Eddie got paid to hang out with them so he was fine with it. It didn’t happen often, since apparently Eddie was the back up babysitter. He didn’t care... that much, he was just curious. But being the back up babysitter gave him Erica Sinclair who quickly became his arch enemy and favorite. They didn’t do much but when he was in charge of her they would argue back and forth before retiring to painting mini figures with music playing in the background. 

However, that wasn’t even the end of it. Because suddenly Dustin was introducing him to Robin Buckley. Apparently Dustin had been trying to get her and their friend together but since they didn’t seem to get their act together, Dustin believed him and Robin would work together. Eddie and Robin took one look at each other and saw the fruitiness of the other. Which gave him a friend to talk about all the shit he dealt with that no one else did. No one else but Robin. 

Robin was a beauty and became one of his closest friends. They often spent time at his trailer and she started eating lunch with him and Hellfire. Of course Dustin was being a little bitch about it but Eddie and Robin claimed their were completely platonic. Which had the young members echoing, “with a capital P.” 

That one comment brought in the last of the party that remained in Hawkins, Steve Harrington. Steve was someone he knew from school but this Steve wasn’t what he expected. The first interaction after all the bragging the rest of the party did for him didn’t match up with his old vision. Eddie was leaving Hellfire and noticed Robin standing next to the man, waiting for the kids. “Eddie!” Robin waved like he wasn’t walking towards her already. 

He grinned, “hey Buckley, fancy meeting you here.” Then he glanced over at Steve and god dammit, he was still as pretty as he had been back in high school. 

“Harrington,” he drawled and watched Steve’s face grow pink. Which was curious...

Steve smiled and it wasn’t a smile Eddie had seen on him before, not really. This looked completely real and a little dopey. “Hey, Munson, I heard I’m missing out on the Munson friendship train.” He tilted his head a little and his hair flopped. The kids were already getting into Steve’s car but neither Steve nor Robin looked to be in a rush to leave. 

Eddie laughed a little awkwardly, “Yeah man. You don’t know what you’re missing.” He waved at himself and watched Steve’s eyes drop to follow his hands up and down his body. Which was... it was... Eddie didn’t really understand what he was feeling. 

He cleared his throat, “welp, enjoy driving these gremlins home.” He waved at the back seat. However, when he looked at Steve the dude look upset at the idea. Which was weird because he’s been told over and over how much Steve loved the kids. He waved and jogged off to avoid anymore of that. 

But that wasn’t the last he saw Steve. No, in fact, suddenly Steve always picked them up. Nancy no longer took time out of her schedule nor did any of the parents. And when Eddie went to his weekly dinner session with the moms they all laughed and said Steve was a good babysitter, always so caring about their time and kids. 

And well... Eddie didn’t hate it. Not one bit as Steve got there about 30 minutes early each time and watched the end of the session. Then he’d help Eddie clean up and they’d talk until they parted ways. Some times Robin was with him and most of those nights they’d meet him at the trailer after dropping the kids off with a movie for the three of them. Except soon, Steve would stop with or without Robin. 

Eddie loved and hated his time with Steve. Because the more time they saw each other, the more Eddie fell for the straight boy. He was done falling for straight boys so it pissed him off. But it didn’t stop him from putting his legs in Steve’s lap during a movie. Or letting Steve play with his hair. Or letting Steve kiss-

Okay the kissing was knew. And Eddie wasn’t sure of anything anymore. Not when during Grease Steve got up from the couch to sing and dance along. Eddie had laughed and when he was pulled to his feet, he stumbled into Steve’s chest. It was just the two of them but even if they had been in a crowded room, Eddie was sure the only thing he would’ve seen would’ve been Steve. 

Steve had cupped his face and smiled, “You’re the one that I want, o o oo honey. The one I need,” Steve had sung so soft and Eddie blinked at him, shocked. “Eddie,” Steve whispered as he leaned in closer. “Can I kiss you?” Eddie had made some noise that he’ll never claim and nodded frantically. Steve kissed like it was a sport that he never got less than gold in. Eddie pressed in and they moved in sync. 

And when they dropped next to each other in Eddie’s bed. Eddie didn’t think Steve might be as straight as he previously thought. “You know,” Steve started after they both regained their breath. “All I heard for weeks was Eddie this, Eddie that. Suddenly even the moms were in love with you. And it was so god damn annoying. Cause I knew they were all right. I remembered you from school, how free and open you were. When Dustin and the others mentioned you befriending them I knew they’d be okay. But I was jealous.”

Eddie looked over at him, “You were jealous? Of me?”

Steve snorted and Eddie didn’t think it was fair that even that was endearing. “Of you, of them. I don’t know... but I saw my shot and I took it.” He shrugged and Eddie raised an eyebrow. “Dude, you were like my gay awakening! I serious!” Steve had a big smile on his face and Eddie grinned back. 

“Really? Little ol’ Eddie Munson was King Steve’s awakening?”

Steve smacked him and rolled so he leaned over Eddie, “yeah. You were.”

They grinned at each other, “so you were checking me out when you first picked up the kids.”

“Hell yeah I was,” Steve winked and it was so dorky. He was flushed pink but still trying to stay confident. “To be honest, I lied when we started talking.” Eddie raised an eyebrow, insincerity rising up in him. But then Steve flushed more, “I didn’t want to join the Munson friendship train. I wanted to see what you’d be like as my boyfriend.” Steve wiggled his eyebrows and Eddie couldn’t stop the laugh.

“Yeah?” He flipped them so he was on top of Steve. Steve looked pleased as he did so. “Get ready, big boy. I’ll show you what you’re missing.” He promised and kissed him just because he could. 

Steve broke it though, “so, you, Eddie Munson agree to go on a date with me?”

Eddie rolled his eyes, “yes. I Eddie Munson, will date you, Steve Harrington. You can pick me up tomorrow at 7.”

And Eddie would swear that Steve’s eyes fucking twinkled. “It’s a date.”

So, yeah bringing Dustin, Lucas, and Mike into Hellfire was one of the best decisions he’s ever made. Maybe one day he’ll thank them for giving him the best year he’s ever had. 

[rejectedbytheempty]

could you write a story about enemies hero and villain that have to learn to care for each other while stranded somewhere? and the hero gets hurt and doesn’t want to tell the villain cause he doesn’t wanna seem weak in front of him, but the villain figures it out because the hero is in pain?

HELL YEAH that’s what i’m talkin about babey. so anyways, i wrote it, hopefully it isn’t too much like the ramblings of a madwoman. but i saw that you requested other things and i def will be getting to them (or at least probably)

TRAPPED

pt 2

tw: blood

“I guess this is what happens when you work with a villain,” Hero lamented, slumped against the gray brick of the cell wall.

Villain whipped their head to look at Hero, anger flaring in their eyes, “You were the one who screwed everything up, I wanted to do this alone, but no, you couldn’t leave well enough alone.” Villain had heard through the grapevine that Supervillain was planning on building some kind of super weapon that they planned to use to subdue the city and take despotic rule over it. As much as Villain could care less about the city, they did care about Supervillain having their go at dictatorship, they were known for being horribly cruel and Villain didn’t want to be at the other end of the smoking gun, so to speak. So Villain planned to break into Supervillain’s facility and hopefully destroy their plans, or at least get a good notion of how far away they should move to avoid the fallout. It was too bad that Hero had decided to interfere with their plans, for some reason that insufferable goody two shoes always stuck their nose in things that didn’t concern them. Hero tagged along, and because the two of them have never worked too well with each other (i.e. at all), they were captured by a bunch of Supervillain’s goons and stuffed in this dingy cell.

“If you went alone, then you would be in this cell by yourself, so maybe you should be grateful that you have company,” Hero said with a small smile on their face.

Villain sighed, “First of all, not true. Second, I could name a dozen other people I would rather have as company.” Hero laughed, but for a moment, the side of their lip twinged up in a wince. It was quick enough that anyone else wouldn’t have caught it, but Villain narrowed their eyes in suspicion.

Hero’s amused face quickly melted into confusion, “What? What’s wrong?”

Villain rose up from where they were sitting and strode forward towards Hero, “I should be the one asking you that, isn’t that right, Hero?”

Hero swallowed nervously and shifted in their seat uncomfortably, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Villain was quick to snatch Hero’s arm, which had been sitting in a seemingly relaxed position over their stomach. There was a large gash in Hero’s side, with dark, bloody stains spreading to either side of the split fabric of their uniform. Hero tried in vain to pull their arm back from Villain’s grip, but only succeeded in pulling their injury taut, to which they hissed in pain.

“When did this happen?”

With a grimace, Hero explained, “In the fight, when we were discovered, one of the guards managed to get me with their knife. I didn’t really notice how bad it was until we were walking to the cell and I looked down..”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Villain demanded.

Hero shook their head and laughed softly, more in a bitter way than in humor, “I.. I don’t know. I just didn’t want to seem weak, I suppose.”

Villain’s expression softened slightly and they released the hold they had on Hero’s arm, and Hero was quick to draw their arm back to their body.

“Christ, Hero, that was dumb. I’m not- well, I’m not that much of a villain.”

Hero avoided Villain’s pitying gaze, setting their jaw before saying, “It’s bad enough that I dragged you down with me, I didn’t want to be more of a burden.”

Villain reached out, gently grabbing Hero’s jaw and guiding them to look face-to-face with Villain, “You are not, and never will be a burden.” Hero opened their mouth to say something but was interrupted by a loud clapping noise that echoed through the cell.

Villain and Hero looked up to see Supervillain standing there, clapping slowly. “Touching stuff, really,” they said with a bone-chilling grin on their face. The moment that Supervillain had made themself known, Villain had stepped away from Hero, hardening their gaze once again. Hero breathed heavily, trying to subdue the obvious fear that was overtaking them.

“You know, I had only planned to catch one but what luck that Hero showed up! And all it took was the rumor that I was building some kind of superweapon, as if I would ever do that, takes out the personal aspect to this job that I so love,” Supervillain said, maintaining a superficially cheery tone.

Villain stumbled back at this, heart sinking to the bottom of their chest, “It was fake?”

Supervillain’s booming laugh bounced off the stone walls, “Thought you would have been smart enough to figure it out by now, but I expect too much, I suppose.”

Villain glanced over at Hero who was staring dissociatively at the ground, chest heaving as they breathed heavily through their nose.

“Oh! Looks like your little friend there is about to pass out. Poor thing, probably scared out of their mind. But, maybe it’s the blood loss that’s finally getting to their head.”

Villain saw red, they slammed against the cell bars, “Let them go. Right. Now. They had nothing to do with this, I’m the one you want.”

Supervillain’s grin didn’t even fall for a moment, “No, I don’t think I will. This is just too much fun, it’s even better than I thought. Sadly, I do have to get back to my scheming, maybe I will actually build a superweapon this time. I’ll be back soon though, so don’t you worry,” Supervillain said, booping Villain’s nose, to which Villain backed away in anger and surprise.

“Toodaloo, Hero!” Supervillain said playfully, waving goodbye before heading towards the door, leaving Villain and Hero back to complete silence.

A/N: okey, lmk what you guys thought and if i should do a part 2 or whateva

[lineffability]

The Serpent Files 🐍

chapters: 5/5 rating: M/E wordcount: 13.9k au: human, the magnus archives

summary: Aziraphale works as the head archivist at Eden Institute. Crowley has been supplying them with potentially cursed artifacts over the years -- until he himself gets entangled in a case that turns him from associate to client...

[ art credit and support credit and 1000 hugs to: @chernozemm my beloved ]

start reading:

“Ouroboros. Yes. The introductory statement is meant to be concise, though, akin to a title. You can describe the necklace in detail in your statement, Crowley. Also, I need you to state your name. It occurs to me I don't actually know it. I mean. I'm not saying I want to know your full name, or anything. Just, all these years– erm. You'd have to state it anyway. For formality's sake. We have a system.”

“Sure. So. Name's Crowley.”

“I… know that part. [sighs] Full names, please, throughout.”

“Ah. Anthony J Crowley.”

“I said full names, please. What's the J stand for?”

“Erm. Uh. Just a J, really. Thought it added a certain gravitas, y’know, flair. Je ne sais quoi. Makes people treat you serious, a J like that.”

“Uh. Alright. Well. Anthony J. Crowley, then. I suppose. Seriously? [clears throat] So. Please start from the beginning.”

“Mmmmhhhh wellll. I’ve been coming to Eden for, what, now, six years maybe?”

“I believe so. Yes.”

“Anyway, not like I go here often. We’ve met a handful of times, you and me, maybe nine, ten? I mean, it was ten times. I know. Uh. Not like I counted or anything. Just, coming here, it stays with you a bit, doesn’t it? All that occult shit. Which is why I come here, of course. I’m – what should I call it? A… supplier. Of sorts. I work with – this is confidential, right?”

“Yes. Internal use only. We don’t give out those files. Your words are safe with me. Erm. Us.”

“Good. Right. I work with the Doomsday Group. Can’t really talk about it much, but you’ve heard of them. Shady stuff, crime, theft, trade, religious artifacts, apocalyptic jazz, all that. Supernatural stuff, too, sometimes. Or claimed supernatural. You know I don’t believe in all that. Well. Didn’t. I didn’t believe in it. Now… uh, anyway. Sometimes we get those weird artifacts, right, apparently cursed, so I bring them to you, to, to check, or verify, or call bullshit. Or to lock them away, or whatever you do with them when you buy them off our lot. That’s how we met. Best part of this shit job, really, if I’m being honest. I didn’t ask to be– hm. Wish I could just– ngh. Confidential, right? Wish I could just be done with them. Run off. Can’t, though. But erm. Forget I said that, alright? Please.”

[pause] “You're rambling a bit, de- Crowley. Or should I, should I call you Anthony now?”

“Hell no. I mean – Crowley's fine. You've called me Crowley for years, haven't you? What, now you don't like it?”

“No, no, I do in fact quite – well, for propriety’s sake, the official documentation, I thought – nevermind. So, Crowley, while the background information on your…job is reasonable, might I politely remind you why you’re here? Please talk less about our personal relationship, or at least only insofar as it pertains to the case, and more about what happened to you since… since you put on that necklace.”

“Right. Righty-oh. S’ just, never been in this room before. The tape recorder, all that. I’ve only ever been here as a sort of… co-worker? Nah. You’re not my co-worker, you’re better than that. As a tradesman. So to be here as a client , it feels… surreal.”

“That is understandable. I trust you will muddle through, though.”

“Hey – remember the first thing I said when I came here? Today, I mean.”

[continue reading]

[toutvatoujoursbien]

A (relatively new-ish) fan’s perspective on Luke Newton

(I wrote my very first Tumblr post last month and now I think I’ve chosen the path of essayist/suffering. I’ve also been writing this on and off for four weeks because it seems like every other day, something new pops up or the fandom has a meltdown of some kind. I’m not even sure if it’s worth posting, but I think, like my first one, I needed to get this out of my system in order to TRY and return to being a normal person - which is still unlikely because Lukola has me in a chokehold. NOTE: I finished the majority of this on July 19, before all the weird-ass stuff happened over the weekend, and haven’t had the chance to post until now. Anyway, this is going to be long, full of ramblings that are hopefully organized in a cohesive manner, and all opinions and observations are my own. I have a lot of thoughts and feelings, okay?)

I’ve really struggled to understand why the whole Bridgerton S3 and Luke Newton PR stunt has embedded itself into my brain the way it has. Like, how could the actions of someone I don’t know still be lingering in my thoughts even now, weeks later? After my first post, I realized that there was more to the entire LN situation than I was previously unaware of - so I started digging. None of this information is hidden or secret, it was publicly available and therefore the fans picked up on it quickly. But I, personally, DID NOT KNOW ANY OF IT, going into S3, and I think that’s why everything has hit me like a ton of bricks. So I thought, surely I’m not the only new(ish) fan who has suffered from this emotional and mental whiplash? 

I really, really, really loved Luke’s portrayal of Colin and I’ve thoroughly enjoyed watching all the interviews and behind-the-scenes from S3. I would also love to continue to support him as he builds his acting career. However, I didn’t have a full picture, which unfortunately includes a history of making - what I think are - poor and questionable decisions in his personal life that he also allowed to bleed into his professional one. And that’s how I find myself struggling with the dichotomy of everything I’ve seen him do during Bridgerton promo vs. lots of other actions he’s taken. So let’s talk about it, okay? (Importantly, I reserve the right to update my current opinions as more information comes to light.)

I want it to be clear that I am in no way hating on Luke. Part of my struggle with writing this post has been because I don’t want this to be misconstrued as more hate being thrown his way. That is not my intention, at all. Seeing “fans” over the past few weeks absolutely rip into him on social media has been heartbreaking and deeply unsettling. This type of behavior is ugly and nasty and no one should be subjected to it. Full stop. As others have said: it’s okay to have thoughts and criticisms (criticism ≠ hate), but please keep it to the appropriate corners of the Internet. I think you can admire/support a famous person, but you should also be able to call them out on their conduct, particularly the stuff that happens in public. Blind love/following and putting people on pedestals is never going to allow any room for reflection and/or growth. I think there is a LOT of nuance in the whole discussion around him, his past actions, his handling of things now, and what’s in store for the future.

Okay, deep breaths & continue after the cut (because this got… wordy).

Some brief background on how I got here: As noted previously, I’ve been a longtime fan of both Polin and Bridgerton, first with the book series and then with the tv show. But, for whatever reason, I never even thought about jumping into the fandom until earlier this year, in anticipation of Season 3. I will say that I have been delighted with Nicola and Luke and their work as Polin from the start, but with the nature of the show being what it is, I just didn’t pay as much attention until it was their turn to lead. I watched some behind the scenes and promos occasionally, but not consistently. It wasn’t until around the February/Valentine’s event that I started to take notice and then I fell down the rabbit hole in April (literally, figuratively, and spiritually 😅). I say all this to illustrate that up until the spring, I was part of the General Audience, though admittedly with a bias towards viewing Bridgerton favorably.  Another factor is that I got most of my fandom content from Twitter (again, I’m never going to call it X), with the occasional peek into Instagram and Tumblr. Yes, Twitter is a hellscape. But I am also lazy and only have so much time to scroll online. And since everything seems to get cross-posted everywhere, it was easiest for me to keep mostly to one social media site to consume all my Bridgerton content. But I point this out because I now see this as an error on my part. Why? Because I wasn’t getting a well-rounded picture of the situation around L, N and S3. Remember my own self-admitted social media bubble? Sigh. The fast pace of tweets meant I could blink-and-miss something on Twitter, unless it trended (or really riled the fans up). It’s a breeding ground for the hyperbolic and for discourse, in general. Twitter also seems to be divided into the Luke Haters (let’s be real, most of their “reasoning” is just uncalled for, vile hate) and the Luke Apologists (who have the tendency to exhibit, imo, some gross-excuse-all-his-behaviors-he-never-does-anything-wrong rhetoric). So it wasn’t until I started noticing chatter of Luke’s past actions that it prompted me to start looking deeper into what others have witnessed and noted online, particularly on this platform. Again, it wasn’t like I was trying to find some sort of hush-hush subject matter. Instead, I rather got the impression that those established in the fandom had a sort of unspoken agreement to keep these discussions to DMs and group chats - mostly as to not detract from Polin’s upcoming season. (But seriously, great of y’all to keep it locked down, however it would have really helped a girl out all the times I was like, “why is everyone so mad?” 🤣) And a lot of things started clicking into place once I knew more of the details. So I’ve put together a list of high-level topics/points that I didn’t know before, being relatively new to the fandom. Perhaps this can help other fans who are trying to wrap their heads around the various discussions occurring now and may feel clueless.

One more thing, HUGE shout-out to @jack4132cf for giving me a concise timeline of… well, everything I apparently missed last year+ when I wasn’t part of the fandom 😆🙌🏼 They’ve really helped me fill in the blanks (of which I had many)! Also, darcytaylor has a great 3-part deep dive, and I’ve read (and backtracked) through most of herejusttosufferalong and allsortsofthingsmpov ’s blogs, among others. They’ve provided a place for differing opinions and perspectives to be voiced in a respectful manner (unless you’re a troll, in which any clap-back is justified). I may not agree with everyone’s take, but I firmly believe that hearing views from others has helped shape my own thought process.

Let’s begin, shall we?

The Hot Fuck Boy Summer™️ (which I’m trademarking as HFBS)

Bridgerton S3 wrapped up filming in March 2023 and then Luke starred in the play The Shape of Things, which was in production from around May-July 2023. At some point prior to all this, Luke and his previous gf broke up - this is reported on by several media outlets in March, as well as “news” that he joined the dating app Raya. This is where, I think, his questionable behavior starts to raise eyebrows. It’s not the fact that he’s dating - I feel like fans gave him a pass since he just ended a long-term relationship (Enter the mentality some had of “let him have his hot boy summer!”). No, I think the issue is that he was not at all private or discreet about it. 

Remember when I said I think he let choices in his personal life bleed over into his professional one? Yeah, there were multiple glaring examples happening in real time last year, and the fandom took notice. He started publicly following certain users on IG and liking their posts, (unfortunately) many of whom were young, female models and dancers, under the age of 23. He (foolishly) followed his private account on his public profile, and then tried to backpedal. He engaged with some online flirtations that didn’t sit well with the fans (cough, E. Bear, cough), and then tried to backpedal. Mind you, all of this occurred and at some point later on, it’s then also decided that he’s going to move (aka, clean up) his social media presence to be more work-related. My point is:

Luke was digitally messy and left a trail (several, really). 

In conjunction with the HFBS, we also have:

& That Friend Group

Ah yes, the “boys.” Look, clearly I don’t know his friend group in real life, so all I can speak on is the image they give off based on their public social media accounts. And I, personally, am very unimpressed with what they’ve chosen to share with the world. My general perception is that L’s group of friends love to have a good time and show it off; seem to have an large amount of influence over him, particularly R; and can been seen as reaping the benefits of his success. He has discussed before how he likes to be generous with his friend group. During HFBS, they posted all about their vacations, on public accounts, and tagged Luke in them. They posted thirst trap photos and tagged Luke in them. They took quite a few boat trips and, once again, tagged Luke in them. Are we sensing a pattern here?

His friend group was also digitally messy and left trails.

I am in no way saying his friends aren’t allowed to post whatever they want on their accounts. It’s totally within their rights to have a good time and capture it on their pages, and I completely understand the desire to only show the “memorable” and “fun” stuff on social media. I just think it was short-sighted to NOT consider that Luke’s fans would be interested in seeing what he was up to with his friends - and you know that people will always, always dig around on the Internet. Maybe this was some kind of fun game to them? Maybe they enjoyed the attention? Maybe they didn’t think it was that big a deal? Who knows? But I think, in hindsight, it would have been safer and smarter to not have all this documented and out in the open, imo. 

My other understanding is that around the time the break up was “officially announced,” Luke’s ex began dating someone who was 22/23 at the time. His childhood friend R also ended a relationship last year and began dating a young woman around 22/23. Do I think R may have encouraged Luke in a certain direction dating-wise, especially considering that A was/is a friend of S, R’s new gf? Do I wonder if this was all to get back at J for starting a relationship with a new young thing, too? It seems likely, but of course this is all conjecture on my part. This is giving “high school drama” vibes, being played out in public, which is very, very  unfortunate.

However, Luke was ultimately the person who did not ask his friends to refrain from posting him on social media, as well as publicly following young women on socials and not being very discreet about his dating life, which is what raises my eyebrows…

The Age Gap Thing

Let’s just address this here and now. Remember, these are my opinions, each individual is entitled to their own, and I hope everyone takes a moment to really think and evaluate how they feel about the matter! I’m going to be very transparent and upfront about this:

I do not like the age gap between L and many of the young women he was showing interest in last year.

I’m viewing this from the lens of someone who is an elder Millennial and female. For me, personally, my dislike has more to do with: 1) A's age when they started dating/the age she is now (22/23); but more specifically 2) the power dynamics at play. 

I don’t have a problem with age gaps overall, because I believe that love can find us at many stages in life. However, I’m also of the opinion that a person 30+ should not be dating a someone in their early 20s. I’m not going to use the whole “the brain hasn’t been fully developed” argument, though valid. My issue has more to do with where an individual is in terms of life experience, emotional and overall maturity, and (this ties in with #2) financial stability within age gaps. In general, I find, say, a 45-year-old dating a 37-year-old to be on more even footing, which becomes even more so as you age. But a 22-year-old, presumably fresh out of college/university and about to embark on their next steps into adulthood, is just not in a position to date someone in their 30s. To me, your early 20s are the time for you to gain all the things I mentioned above (life experience, maturity, financial stability that is independently your own) as well as make plenty of mistakes. And that’s not to say any of that stops once you hit 30, or beyond! I know I’m constantly evolving and learning more about myself and my place in the world as each year passes.

My deeper discomfort comes from the inherent power dynamics and power imbalance between L/A. Of course L has lot more of the power in terms of money, resources and status; they are not equal partners. This article here (https://jill.substack.com/p/the-problem-with-men-who-date-much) illustrates these points much better than I can; I think it’s worth the read. 

Is he allowed to date whomever he so chooses? Yes. Are people allowed to feel the ick with the current choice/choices he made last year? Also yes. Does it entitle anyone to post nasty comments on his social media? Absolutely not. I may not personally like his choice, but it’s ultimately his to make. 

NOTE: I also want to address right here that, to me, his behavior isn’t “predatory” or whatever twisted narrative some folks are trying to push. Honestly, I think he’s gone the complete opposite direction from the type of women his ex and N are because it might be less complex/more simple both in terms of emotions and permanence. But obviously, pure speculation on my part. 

Antagonistic A

At some point during HFBS, L meets A and she becomes a part of That Friend Group. During Fall 2023, there are many trips to Soho Farmhouse and other posts made to R/S/A’s social media accounts. A in particular made quite a few posts that could be interpreted as her wanting to show she was with L, but never actually including him fully (these are the arms/legs photos that fans talk about and side-eye). Some of these types of posts have since been conveniently deleted. L and That Friend Group celebrate NYE24 at Soho Farmhouse, where everyone but him share photos and videos. On Jan 2, a photo of L and A kissing was circulated on social media -  they got caught in the video of the band playing. Also at the beginning of this year, A - for whatever fucking reason - started tagging along on various work trips and had a tendency to post TikTok’s from various hotel bathrooms. Again, insinuating that she’s with L but not outright showing it. 

The “InStyle stunt” - end of March/early April, there is a trip to Los Angeles which A posted stories and photos on IG. It’s later revealed that L was going to be featured in InStyle Magazine’s “This Guy” series, which included an interview, video and photoshoot, as well as an IG post that consisted of several polaroid, “boyfriend-style” pictures. The Instyle polariods were released three weeks after A’s posts, and let’s just say that A’s are a little too on the nose to be coincidence (also cue more hand/leg reveals…) Please note, again, that some of these photos on A’s account have been conveniently deleted/removed.

These are only a few examples of how… messy this all is and how it can be viewed as her antagonizing the fans. There is a lot of back and forth debate between “just leave her alone, she’s allowed to post what she wants” against “she’s clearly using social media to taunt the fandom/get attention/chase clout/etc.” When I finally learned about all the social media games being played, I just felt really unsettled for a few reasons.

Luke has stated that he wishes to keep his private life more private (see: social media clean-up from last fall). But, and this is my big issue here, A and That Friend Group don’t seem to WANT to be private. So to me, that can push people to question how much does he know what’s actually going on (he admits to not being online much) and, more importantly, how complicit is he with all of their postings? I personally feel like the narrative being pushed by his friends is very self-serving, and doesn’t seem like it’s in L’s best interest or protecting his privacy. Because I think we all know and understand that if a celebrity wants to keep certain things private, they have the money and resources to do so - some good examples that come to mind are Ryan Gosling and Eva Mendes, Benedict Cumberbatch, Dolly Parton, and our girl Nicola herself.

A has made it a pattern to post shortly after either Nicola or the main Bridgerton account posts something, usually on IG or TT; there is timely evidence of this. So much so that the fandom jokes about how obsessed she must be with N. And these posts don’t really have much substance - other than to show off her body or her latest vacation. It just all comes off as very insecure and seeking attention, whether it’s from L or from the public in general. Again, why do we feel the need to play social media games? But this does not mean she deserves hateful comments either. I personally don’t care for her or her actions, but as an older female, I also can’t help but be saddened by the fact that she’s making many, many poor choices in a very public forum. I can’t help but wonder if she’s going to have regrets later on when/if she reflects back on this time. 

The PR Stunt/Papgate

This has been dissected by the fandom to death and there are a plethora of theories on who exactly was responsible for calling the paparazzi, who knew what was actually going to happen, WHY did this occur, and how much did this impact the season and the press tour overall. It’s enough to make anyone’s head spin - hell, I’ve changed my opinion at least a dozen times over the past several weeks. Regardless, the thing that aggravates me the most about the whole thing is the absolutely terrible and suspicious timing of it. As stated in my previous post: Here’s my point: I think what should have been a moment of triumph and a joyous occasion for Nic, Luke, and Bridgerton season 3, was sadly overshadowed by the aforementioned shitstorm. And that’s a damn shame. Too many cast and crew put in a lot of time, effort, and blood sweat and tears, to pull this all together.

I’m still personally stuck on a few things: 1) How did paps know when L was leaving the official after party? Additionally, how did they know which hotel L was going to for his after-after party? Because that’s where we got the super awkward handhold attempt photos. 2) Did L know about the first location but not the second one - which ties into was this an attempt by his PR team to distance himself from Bridgerton and Nicola now that promo was almost done? Because the way he looks from location 1 to 2 is vastly different. 3) If paps were there, why was literally NO ONE else from the cast also photographed??? 4) Why has DM double (and tripled) down over the past few weeks on how she got those exclusive photos in the first place? And 5) Who ultimately has benefited the most from this whole PR stunt 🤔??? (Because I sure as hell don’t think it’s Luke…)

The Cinnamon Roll vs The Bad Boy

Luke has stated in several interviews that he’s interested in going for edgier, darker roles. I think that’s great that he wants to try something new and diversify; I would love to see him in whichever type of role interests him! However, he’s also spent 4-5 years playing Colin, a character that is quirky, kind and lovable (much more so on the show, thanks to Luke’s portrayal) and known for being the ultimate “wife guy” amongst the fandom. It’s also been mentioned time and time again that Luke is most like his character (by Luke himself and his Bridgerton cast mates). Nic speaks so highly of him, and the way he presented himself during the 6 months of press was really wonderful; I think he has a deep understanding and love for his role, and he was a genuinely supportive partner to his co-lead during filming. Think golden retriever energy - which is NOT a bad thing, at all!

If there is any truth to the PR stunt being organized by his team (and I’m in no way saying this is fact) as a way to differentiate/disassociate him from Bridgerton/Nicola, then I think this was a miscalculation on their part. We know that Luke did a lot of editorial photoshoots during the promo tour; and looking at the pictures now, it seems like there was definitely a narrative/aesthetic that was trying to be pushed of a more intense, moody and provocative L. Which is also fine! I don’t think he must be one personality or the other; humans are multi-faceted and complex, it’s what makes us so interesting.

The (Ongoing) Fallout

This is really difficult to write about because, honestly, I feel like we’re still witnessing it happening in real time, bit by agonizing bit. What we do know is that at this moment, he hasn’t announced any new projects other than returning for Bridgerton Season 4. He hasn’t announced any major brand deals and we don’t know what his next steps are career-wise. Which is completely baffling to me because I would think he and his team would want to capitalize on the momentum of a very successful season of a Netflix/Shondaland production. However, this is his life and his job, so until he comes forward with literally anything to say (a statement, an announcement, hell, he hasn’t even publicly claimed to have a gf FFS), then everything else is just noise and speculation. As much as I hope he’s not taking another HFBS, I also wouldn’t blame him for wanting to step away from the spotlight. He’s been unfairly dragged and smeared since the Part 2 premiere. Do I think he and his team/friend group have made a some missteps along the way? Yes, but again, no one deserves the nasty comments and vitriol that has been flung his way. 

So How Do We Move Forward?

I keep thinking back to the adage: When someone shows you who they are, believe them.*

And isn’t this the root of my (and perhaps others’) struggle? Because it’s been really difficult to reconcile someone Nicola calls “a true gentleman, the kindest friend, a dream costar” with a man who seemingly (?) goes along with pap walks, Instagram subterfuge, and appears to be distancing himself from the very project and costars that helped propel him into the leading man spotlight. For me personally, I go back to my point that people are multi-faceted and deeply complex. I think Luke can be all of those things; I also think he might be struggling right now to figure out who he is and what he wants next after being scrutinized so heavily.

Also from my first post: We have to remember, though, that what we’re shown is only a fraction of their true selves, carefully and deliberately curated to accommodate their status as actors/celebrities/those in the public eye. 

I choose to believe that we saw glimpses of the real Luke throughout the press tour. (ColinBridgey is a rockstar and compiled everything into a master list for our enjoyment!) I choose to believe Nicola knows Luke a hell of a lot better than almost everyone else yapping in this conversation. I choose to believe that his anxiety and quietness could be perceived as standoffish, and unfortunately he wasn’t able to shine as much as Nicola during the press tour, but they are a team and have each other’s backs - there is genuine love there, after all. I choose to believe that social media posting and likes are not indicative of the actual friendship and relationship between L and N. I would love to see him post more, or be more vocal in publicly thanking Bridgerton and Nicola - however, I realize those are expectations I have/desire and he does not owe me anything. 

I choose to believe that despite the mistakes and missteps, he’s a decent human being who deserves to live his life on his own terms and at his own speed. I really, really hope that whenever he announces his next project, I can be joyful and supportive. There’s a lot of talk about giving him grace, which I agree with. I cannot imagine, nor do I desire to be in the public eye this way; it’s easy for us and others to feel entitled to say things behind our screens and keyboards, but these are real, actual people with lives and feelings.

I do think that it is for the best interest of the fandom to try and ignore A and That Friend Group (and DM) as much as possible. And I will be the first to admit that it is really fucking hard to do so. Like I’ve said before, I try to ignore toxicity and hate, but I am also human and therefore imperfect and capable of pettiness. There is just something about this situation (probably how much Lukola captivated me and how much disdain I have for his friend group) that makes me watch everything play out like it’s a train on fire, careening towards an unfinished bridge, over a ravine. Sometimes I feel bad because I wonder if I’m adding to the entire spectacle with my continued interest. But then I remember that I specifically keep it to this corner of the internet, and I’ve found a nice little community where we can gossip and discuss and dissect it all.

If you’ve made it to the end, thank you. This is just everything I’ve been ruminating over the past month, put into word vomit form. I would looove to hear your thoughts and takes on everything/anything discussed above. Maybe you have a different perspective or noticed something that I missed.

*Fun fact: In my research, I learned that this saying comes from Maya Angelou’s “A Song Flung Up to Heaven” and is actually "Believe people when they tell you who they are. They know themselves better than you.” The more well-known version comes out of an Oprah Winfrey interview with Angelou in 1997, where they were discussing life lessons. Okay, I’ll stop being a nerd now.

[ww2yaoi]

[In honour of Webgott Wednesday, here's the first scene of the other Webgott WIP I have on the go whose working title is too deranged to mention. Anyways, enjoy.]

Spring of 1952. San Francisco, California.

Joe and Web have a tradition.

In the middle of the week, every week, Joe closes up the shop for lunch and meets Web halfway to the Chronicle building in the park across from City Hall. Joe brings sandwiches he buys at the kosher deli next door and they eat and drink coffee and complain about work until their hour is up.

Today is no different. Joe finds Web in their usual spot on a wooden bench by one of the fountains, the afternoon sun beaming down and bathing the pavement in buttery light. Joe loves San Francisco in April. The air is warm and featherlight, the breeze comparatively cool with seaspray, and the soupy summer fog has yet to swallow the Bay whole. Everything feels new after winter’s damp and windy gloom, and Joe is briefly reminded of Austria, of its misty mountains and glass-like lakes. It had been a springtime of rebirth after a long, hard war.

Well, mostly.

Web is always a sight in his well-tailored suits, charcoal gray tweed today, his tie a deep maroon. He’s taken off his jacket and folded it across his knee, the sleeves of his starched white Oxford rolled up to reveal his hirsute forearms. This is his uniform now. The last time Joe saw him in ODs was probably when they disembarked in New York Harbour at the tail end of 1945. He thinks Web might have burned them.

“Hey,” Joe says.

Web beams like they didn’t just see each other this morning. “Hey.”

He hands Joe the cup of coffee that was resting on the bench beside him and Joe sits down in its place. He sets the bag of sandwiches by his feet and grabs Web’s usual order, a pastrami on rye with extra pickles.

“How was the cable car?” Joe asks like he does most weeks, passing Web his sandwich and grabbing his own, corned beef with lots of mustard.

“Swarming with tourists, as per usual,” Web says with a grimace, unwrapping the paper from his sandwich.

Joe smirks. “Y’know, some lifelong San Franciscans would consider you a tourist.”

“Ugh, don’t insult me,” Web says, shooting him a look. He takes a generous bite of his sandwich then talks out of the side of his mouth. “What do they want from me? I’ve lived here for five years.”

“Yeah, but everyone can tell you’re from New York.”

“Why is that?”

“Because you think you’re better than everyone else. The New York wafts off of you like the odour of a finely aged cheese.”

“You did not just compare me to stinky cheese.”

“Hey, I specified ‘finely aged.’ Didn’t I?”

Web rolls his eyes. “Just eat your fucking sandwich.”

Joe snickers, then takes a bite of it, chews and swallows. “How’s the paper?”

Web just shakes his head. “This election is going to be the death of me.”

“It’s seven months away,” Joe says, a pocket of corned beef in his cheek.

“That doesn’t mean the whole office isn’t worked up about it,” Web counters. “Journalists…” He trails off. “My editor is breathing down my goddamn neck.”

Joe wipes mustard from the corner of his mouth and licks it off his finger. “Well, that’s what happens when you miss deadlines, Schatz.”

“Astute observation, Lieb.” Web glowers, but Joe knows he’s just being difficult on purpose. Always the same song and dance with him. “The article isn’t right yet.”

“Which article is this again?” Joe takes a sip of his coffee. “The one about the, uh, the mayor’s daughter’s ballet recital?”

Web smacks Joe in the chest. Joe was expecting as much, and he grins at having gotten a rise out of him.

“Uh, no,” Web says insistently. “I’m writing about the steelworkers union.”

“Right, the steelworkers union.”

Joe takes another bite of his sandwich and chews thoughtfully. Web had probably told him about it at one point or another, probably after sex. Web has always been too talkative for his own good around Joe, but he’s especially rambly after an orgasm. Joe likely hadn’t been listening. It’s enough to keep up with the virility of a twentysomething in bed, he doesn’t need a fucking dissertation afterwards.

“How’s business at the shop?” Web asks, changing the subject.

“Slow.” Joe picks at his sandwich wrapper. “You’d think people’s hair had stopped growing.”

Web laughs. “Well, hopefully, that’s not the case. We’d probably get evicted. Maybe it’ll pick up this afternoon.”

“Yeah, we’ll see.”

“Is Sal still getting on your nerves?”

Joe makes a pft sound. “Does the day of the week end in Y?”

They finish their sandwiches and coffees in companionable silence, watching as people stroll through the park with their dogs or their children who aren’t old enough to be in school yet. A well-dressed housewife walks past them pushing an expensive-looking pram. A little boy in overalls, no older than two, toddles behind her, pulling a toy truck on a string. She smiles politely at them, her eyes shaded by a pair of cat eye sunglasses and her lips a rubious red. A scarf battens down her kempt blonde curls, tied around her head with a neat bow beneath her chin.

Mom, tot, and baby are making their way to the adjacent fountain when a baby blanket hanging out of the bassinet falls to the ground. A soft pink crumple, bleached by the sunlight against the gray pavement. The woman fails to notice and her little boy pays it no mind. They continue on their walk, unaware that anything is amiss.

Before Joe can even say anything, Web is getting up from the bench and jogging over to the abandoned blanket. He scoops it off the ground and approaches the woman, getting her attention by gently tapping her on the elbow. She turns and Web presents the blanket to her like some kind of fairytale fucking prince, eliciting a wide, white smile from the woman, her teeth square and straight like a row of Chiclets. She takes off her sunglasses and places them on top of her head, probably to get a better look at Web. Joe can barely suppress the urge to roll his eyes.

The civilian world isn’t like the Army. In the Army, a pretty face like Web’s might get you relentlessly teased, or cause the men to take you less seriously until you prove otherwise. On the outside though, it’s all anyone seems to care about. People are always accosting Web, asking him for directions or chatting him up in line at the theater or next to him on the train. In the rare instances they go out to the Old Crow or the Black Cat, Joe has to keep a firm grip on him, in case some flit tries to take Web off his hands.

Web and the woman are chatting now, glancing down every so often to look at the baby in the pram. They’re far enough away that Joe can only pick up fragments of their conversation above the rushing of the fountains. Joe catches the words ‘daughter’ and ‘paper’ and ‘sweet.’ He fishes for his cigarettes in the breast pocket of his button-up and lights one, just so he has something to do with his hands. The smoke churns in his chest and the back of his neck prickles.

The little boy is shyly clinging to his mother’s skirt. She bends over and picks him up, balancing him on her hip. Web is smiling even wider now than he was when Joe first greeted him this afternoon. He waves hello to the little boy. Joe takes another sharp drag of his cigarette as Web says his goodbyes and then walks back to the bench where Joe is still sitting.

“Nice family,” Web says, plopping himself down again.

Joe doesn’t say anything. He taps ash from his cigarette onto the ground and tries to look preoccupied. Web checks his watch. He gathers up their sandwich wrappers and empty coffee cups and puts them into the paper bag to be thrown away. He’s still faintly smiling to himself as he does it. It’s just enough to make Joe’s anger boil over.

He scoffs. “Jesus, Web. Didn’t know you missed flirting with broads that much.”

Web’s head immediately snaps to the left so he can look at Joe. “What? I wasn’t flirting,” he insists. “I was just trying to be nice, and she was very clearly married.”

“Then what the hell are you smiling about?”

“Her kids! Her kids were cute,” Web says, raising his voice. He promptly lowers it as more parkgoers pass by them. “The little boy, Peter, and the baby, Judy. Christ, Joe. You know I like kids.”

Joe looks at Web. Web looks back at him. His eyes are so goddamn blue. Sometimes Joe thinks if Web were lying to him, he would be able to see it in his eyes, spot the untruth somewhere in that clear crystal blue, like a droplet of blood in water. Right now, however, all he sees is the person he loves most in this world, begging him not to be an asshole for once.

Joe’s jealousy fizzles out, mild embarrassment rushing in to take its place.

“Alright.” He shifts, letting go of some of the tension in his shoulders, and fiddles with his cigarette. “Y’know, I did hear something about you in Holland, depleting the company’s Hershey bar supply by giving chocolate to every sad Dutch kid you saw.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” The corners of Web’s mouth turn up ever so slightly in a smirk, and Joe knows his attempt to break the tension has worked. “You know about that? Who told you?”

“I don’t know. Hoobler maybe.”

“Hoobler.” Web repeats the name thoughtfully, like he’s testing it out on his tongue after not saying it for a long time. “Well, in my defense, the Krauts were starving them.”

“Wow, my fuckin’ hero. Where’s your Silver Star, Web? Is it in your sock drawer with your Purple Hearts?”

“Shut up,” Web says, but there’s barely any bite to it. “How has this not come up in the last however many years?”

Joe shrugs. “Maybe we talked about it and forgot.”

The truth is, they don’t reminisce deeply about the war very often. It comes up every now and again. Sometimes they linger on the more lighthearted memories, like a particularly funny joke Luz told or the summer afternoons they spent swimming together in Lake Zell. Anything weightier than that spells trouble for the both of them. Web becomes unspeakably angry when he talks seriously about the war, while Joe feels like he could cry ten years worth of tears.

Half a decade ago, Web had given Joe a rough manuscript of his recollections to read. Joe had barely made it five pages into the thing. He’d quickly realized that if he knew the full extent of Web’s pain, he’d never be able to disentangle himself from his own. Since then, they’ve tried not to reopen the wound, although Joe supposes that implies it closed in the first place.

Web checks his watch again. “Shit, I’m going to be late.”

“Well, then, you better go.”

“Alright.”

Web squeezes Joe’s knee — about all the affection they can get away with in public — and gets to his feet, coolly draping his suit jacket over his right shoulder like he thinks he’s Frank Sinatra or something.

“Thanks for lunch, Joe.”

“You’re welcome, Dave.”

Web turns and smiles at him, walking backwards in the direction of Market Street to catch another cable car.

“Ich liebe dich,” he says in German, in case anyone is listening. “Du bist mein Leben, meine Familie, mein Lieber.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Joe waves him off. “All the same to you, kid.”

Web laughs, boisterous and beautiful, then finally turns his back to Joe. Joe watches him go, then heads off in the opposite direction.

[This fic is currently at 28k and hopefully I will finish it AT SOME POINT.]

[belaofarc]

✩࿐࿔ Phone call

Step dad!John wick x reader

Summary: You’re needy step dad John interrupts your phone call for night time activities.

TW: NSFW, stepcest, strong language

Word count: 1902

It’s late at night and you’re on the phone with your best friend, conversing about random topics.

“Soooo… how’s that step dad of yours?” She asked flirtatiously

“Shut up, he’s not that hot!”

You exclaimed, trying not to sound too enthralled.

“Ugh fine Anyways, there's this guy at my work and he’s really hot, I want him so bad I wanna cry like he needs to come place a ring on my finger.”

“What does he look like?” You asked curiously

Lilium sent you his account while going on forever about her hot co worker.

Until you heard a noise at your door.

Your step dad walks in, his eyes tired, but you could tell he was extremely needy.

And when your mom wasn’t home or awake to satisfy his needs, your always his go too.

He gets on top of you, your bottom half kinda hanging off the bed, as your laying across your bed.

you flash him an annoyed look, Causing him to grab you by the hair.

“Why are you being so bitchy tonight, don’t act like you don’t beg me to fuck that wet cunt every chance you get, now that your on the phone with that little friend of yours you wanna act different, god forbid she knew you were such a cock slut for your own step father.”

He teased in a menacing tone.

“Yeah John, as if” you replied back while rolling your eyes, you go back to listening to Lilium’s ramblings.

until you go blank as your step dad starts playing with your cunt.

His large veiny middle finger slowly going in and out your tight cunt making wet noises.

“Wet for me already” he teased

You cover your mouth to silence your moans, you want to be loud but you know what would happen if your mom caught the two of you together.

“Mmmmm” you accidentally slip out, john bends down near your ear to shush you, while placing kisses on your neck.

“What did you say?”

Asked Lilium concerned cause you haven’t said anything for a while, as she was rambling.

“Oh yes, i agree you should totally ask for his n-number, he seems t-totally with it”

You stutter out while your step dad is still fingering your wet cunt with his pointer and middle finger.

“Purk that pretty ass up for daddy” He growled.

You hesitated a bit, a little nervous cause your friend would probably be able to hear every little noise, but you complied.

“You're such a good girl for daddy doing as your told and being such a good little slut.”

He degraded you as he started sliding his 12 inch cock along your cunt.

“Mhm~” you muffledly replied back with your hand covering your mouth trying not to make any noise, very nervous and a little overwhelmed at how easy it is to make you melt as his touch.

You were practically a slave to his dick and he knew it.

“Y-you should maybe ask for his Instagram, just say you would like to hang out after work or s-something”

You told Lilium trying to pretend like your not being stimulated by your own step father.

“Yes I was thinking that too but I’m too nervous… might have to hold him at gunpoint for it”

“He’s finna meet his ma-“

You were shortly cut off from your sentence as your step dad had started entering your tight cunt, every inch he got deeper filling you up, a mix between pain and pleasure. Making you feel like you're suffocating, trying your best not to moan as loud as you can to alarm Lilium nor your sleeping mother.

“That’s right, that’s my good little princess. Begging your step dad to fuck you while your mother is asleep in the other room… but you like that, don’t you?”

He teased while simultaneously pounding your insides making you want to do nothing but cry from the fact you're practically being torn apart by your moms fiance.

“Y-yes daddy…” You accidentally choked.

“Y/n… no we aren’t doing this tonight” Said Lilium making it clear she can hear your moans but thinks your fake moaning, in which case you could NOT let her find out your being fucked by your own step dad.

“I’m just being silly tonight.” You replied while huffing.

Mouth halfway open from salvation at how good it feels finally being satisfied.

“You better stop being so loud princess, or you’ll get us caught”

His words not doing anything but making you want to make more loud noises at how his words vibrate into your ears making you wanna cum.

You put your phone down, the feelings of his cock too much to not ignore.

“F-fuck yes” You huffed as he continues to stretch your aching cunt, causing you to put your hand over your mouth trying not to make any loud accidental noises

“Mmm you love when daddy fucks you don’t you?” his hands placed on both your sides as he continues pounding you mercilessly.

You’re so cock drunk you can’t even hear what Lilium nor your step dad is telling you anymore, All you know is that you never want this feeling to end.

“Fuck- I mean yes I agree your manager is a bitch”

“That’s what I’m saying like I’m so, so tired of her I just… I just can’t”

She replied back in a fustrated tone.

“That’s right keep talking baby, I’m not even here” said John as he’s still plowing your cunt, the idea of your dad fucking you whilst your trying your best not to make any sound, driving you mad.

“I’m fixing to cum princess… be prepared”

His words slipping off his tongue but as before it’s all muffled all you can focus on is his cock hitting your womb, every thrust making you tear up, at how beautiful and lustful it feels.

You can feel him pounding you harder, slowly becoming sloppyer his orgasm timing with yours.

You place your head in your pillow to try and muffle your moan.

As your orgasm is still hitting, he’s still teasing you. Going in and out your cunt, overstimulating you to the brink of no return.

“I love this tight cunt of yours, if I could I’d be inside you all day princess.” He teased peppering kisses on your neck.

He finally pulls out, allowing you to catch your breath. As his cum slowly leaks out of you.

“Be a good girl and clean daddy up, princess” He says trying to maintain composure at how high his orgasm was.

“And bring your phone over as well there's no need to stop talking to your friend while helping me out baby, I don’t wanna take that away from you”

You hesitantly complied and lifted yourself from the bed, grabbed your phone and got onto your knees.

“Good girl” He praised you as he brushed his fingers through your hair.

You place the phone up to your ears, as you start to slowly place kisses onto his cock.

“You still their Y/N?” Asked Lilium cause you’ve been “quiet” for a while.

“Hey yeah, I’m still here. I'm just reading this fanfic about Tate Langdon.” You said trying to save yourself and explain why you haven’t been replying.

“My husband … as you should” She said in a joking manner.

You start to lick his base slowly leading back up to his tip, John and your juices filling the taste buds of your tongue. you can’t help but be entranced at how good it tasted.

You look up to see john with his mouth open trying to not moan, at how good your warm mouth feels teasing his dick.

“Did I ever tell you tate Langdon was suppose to have a brother?”

You exclaimed to Lilium trying to make conversation trying not to sound too dry so she doesn’t hang up.

You start to slowly take the length down your throat trying hard not to make any gagging noises.

“We ain’t gonna talk about that mother fucker cause if they placed him in that show I’d hurt that MF threw the Tv screen, Willy wonka type shit.”

Lilium replied riled up

You start to choke at how hilarious this comment was to you.

Your step dad finding it amusing your choking and tearing up at how you're taking him to the back of your throat trying not to choke to death.

“Girl- are you okay, I got you on the floor dying” Lilium started laughing

His dick finally slips from your throat, while you're still having a coughing fit.

“Yes” cough “I’m okay you got me on the floor descended i swear.”

“The usual”

You start to slowly take his length once again, practically begging for him to face fuck you. You can’t help but think of the fact of your own step dad face fucking you makes you extremely wet.

You hate to admit it cause your so stubborn but you just can’t help yourself when it’s right in your face .

You start to devour his dick taking every inch going back and forth, making very few but muffled gags as he starts to face fuck you.

Your saliva and his juices leaking from your mouth making bubbly noises.

At this point you can’t help but not care that your friend is on the other line, wondering what the everloving hell is going on with you.

All you can hear is the sound of gurgling and wet noises as he starts to fasten his pace, his orgasm slowly building up.

You look up to see he’s staring right at you, his dark eyes full of hunger and despair, he needs this high or he’ll go crazy, and you know this, so you allow him to continue, knowing you could pass out at any time from the fact he won’t allow you to pull away to catch your breath. Your mouth is aching and sore from taking his large length.

He starts to pour his liquids down your throat, you could feel every ounce shoot straight through you.

His grunt becoming deeper and deeper as he continues to pour more liquids into your warm throat.

He finally pulls out, his head falling back, catching his breath after chasing such a high.

You always wondered how this man could have such a huge load.

But regardless you took it like a good girl.

He pulled out and you place one last kiss onto his dick.

You stand you up and John peppers a kiss onto your forehead.

“Your such a good girl for taking care of daddy tonight. Sweet dreams princess”

He starts to place his clothes back on.

Lilium still on the other line silent.

“H-hey im back im sorry about that, I had to go do something with my mom and I had left the Tv running”

You made up a some lame excuse, to not cause any controversy.

“Girl- I thought you were taking dick I was finna sayyy~”

Lilium said teasingly

“Yeahhhh no… you know I’m in my virgin era”

You replied back, still stunned from the encounter.

“Yeah whatever-“