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#yeah we’re shit posting again
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uh whispers or whatever
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starlooove · 9 days
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Read one or two fics where they give Duke a personality treat Damian like a human being and stop sucking Tim’s dick for 5 seconds and everything else feels like forcing urself to eat normal food after tasting the fruits of the fae
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kingproblem · 5 months
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can we stop saying politically correct? Politics are corrupt and gross. Can we start saying something like socially conscious or like… empathetic?
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dipyronegirl · 8 months
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god i wanna start over so bad, i fucked up and ruined university just like high school, and high school was SHIT after what i did, everyone stared at me in the hallways and everything was horrible for years, i don’t wanna go through it again with the time i have left in uni, i wanna go someplace else where nobody knows my face and start fresh with a clean reputation — that i know i’ll ruin in a couple of years but by then i’ll be graduating so i can just start over again in residency
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merevide · 8 months
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how it feels to post a sad music link and get over 2 likes
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pepprs · 2 years
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omg i was feeling better for like 2 hrs but then i saw a post on here that is like maybe the worst thing ive read all day. and now i am feeling despair again
#purrs#going to close this app and go watch minecraft build videos again bc that’s the only thing that distracts me rn. but it sucks. it sucks so#bad. how easy it is to be knocked down like this by a stupid post and how frightened and hopeless and small i feel. like wtf. and i know i s#said this but it’s like the mindset shift thing i rbed a few minutes ago right? like i am supposed to be the BEACON. i am supposed to have t#the hope and give it to people who don’t have it. but what do i do when /i/ don’t have it. that is antithetical to the entire enterprise.#and it does not bode well for our work working lol. like given what i know i should never ever doubt or fear or anything again. and the#sayings are literally brace yourself the world is broken and we’re braving the storm etc etc but right now all that’s going on in my head an#and heart are BROKEEEEEEEEEEEN!!!!!! STOOOOOOOOOOORM!!!!!!! HHEEEEEEEELLPPPPP!!!!!! and not like oh! brace. brave. ok yeah i can do that#and to be fair i don’t think anyone is feeling that way ever probably and that’s why you can’t be a beacon of hope if you haven’t known#hopelessness and don’t fight to overcome it every day. but right now knowing i need to be a beacon is only making me feel more hopeless. and#i know the beacon feeling bc ive been there before but idk if this will pass bc like uhmmmmmm… i live in the fucking death trap that is the#usa. but it might but also idk. i just am haunted by 2 things. number 1 that the most basic simplest thi ng s in life like starting a family#of my own and having a stable living situation might be out of my reach bc i was born at the wrong time. and number 2 that especially in the#last 2 years but also always there are such HORRORS happening and yet so many of them we don’t feel and it’s like out in nature the forest i#is still just the forest and it’s like for these birds and squirrels etc they don’t even know there’s a pandemic and nothing abt their lives#has changed in 2 yrs (that has substantially impacted their way / qualify of life anyway). and i know everything in my save tag refutes this#and also that if lia heard me saying this shit she’d say in effect why don’t you go write a poem and calm down. but part of me wants to feel#hopeless i think because there’s a security in feeling doomed bc to fight it takes strength and courage and is maybe scarier. but i am just#exhausted and grieving rn except the grief i am feeling is NOTHING compared to other griefs others feel and have felt. but yeah this is also#day 4 of living here again and maybe by day 14 or whatever i’ll be feeli ng stronger and more normal but the last few days have been so#fucking hard and so much about my life is different in ways that are hard right now. so i have to just deal with that and adjust and mayhe p#plunge myself into a piece of media like i have done w every other major transition in my life and somehow haven’t done w this one yet but t#that might just give me a break from my stupid broken brain and then i’ll come back and be normal. bc today i could barely get out of bed#delete later
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qqueenofhades · 2 months
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https://www.tumblr.com/qqueenofhades/743255237060689920/the-thing-that-confuses-me-about-the-dont-vote
The “don’t vote” left’s point is basically that, if Biden gets a second term, it’ll basically signal that “They’ll vote for us as long as we’re not Republicans, why don’t we do some REAL fucked up shit, if we can get away with it?” It takes the power out of the people’s hands and places it firmly in the party’s.
I can’t completely disagree with that, my caveat is that there’s no real alternative system or party in place, because top-down change is ineffective; a third party president has to contend with a two party congress.
Except no. This whole "Biden just wants to do as much fucked up shit as possible while not being a Republican, and if you give him a second term he'll do more fucked up shit deliberately to spite you" mindset is only possible as an interpretation if you a) deliberately and comprehensively ignore everything he has done to date, and b) you approach the situation with the maximum bad faith possible. Not to mention, the ultimate outcome of this Big Important Teaching Biden A Lesson is that Trump gets back into power and makes everything orders of magnitude worse, because he does in fact want to deliberately do evil shit to everyone and says so at every opportunity. There is not some magical happy alternative that springs into existence by not voting. If you choose this as a year to Teach Biden A Lesson, you are enabling Trump. Trump will be much, much worse. If you don't care about that, I still do not care what your Great Ideology is. You are not helping anyone and you are directly and irreversibly hurting everyone.
I made a post a few days ago wherein I mentioned that I want to assess Biden fairly, taking into account both strengths and weaknesses, but the rampant bad-faith, lying, misreading, misrepresentation, and open sabotage of him (especially by the online left; the GOP sometimes only wishes they were as good at turning Biden's voter pool against him) makes it really difficult to do that. My frustration with those people makes me just want to go "BIDEN IS GREAT THE END." I know he is a flawed old man (though by literally every account of a career spent in public service, he really does care about making the world a better place and any remotely good faith reading of his accomplishments thus far can see that). It is also very likely that he goes MORE left in a second term because he won't have to face the electorate again, he has always gone more left when pushed before, and he's not actually the scheming genocidal mastermind that leftist social media paints him as. Shocking, I know.
I know there are things in the world we don't like and don't want and want to stop, and therefore we blame our own president for not making it stop. But I have zero, no, none, absolutely none whatsoever sympathy for this pseudo-populist "WE NEED TO TEACH BIDEN A LESSON BY ELECTING TRUMP AGAIN, I AM VERY MORAL MUCH ACTIVIST" mindset. There's this funny thing about America wherein it is still (for now) a democracy. If Biden wins a second term, he can't run again. I would take literally anything these people said more seriously if they focused on developing their dream progressive successor for 2028 (and also figured out how to get that person elected and in a place to make real change) rather than cynically sabotaging Biden in the most consequential election year, again, of our lifetimes. If you don't like him now, find a way to make his successor a better option. Throwing a toddler tantrum and handing the country back to a senile, deranged, fascist, revenge-riddled, theocratic Trump HELPS. NOBODY. I still don't know how many times I'm going to have to say that, but yeah.
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kiss-inthekitchen · 1 month
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bonus! i said i wasn't posting anything new til this weekend but i just got up to s5 e2 and spencer reid with that lollipop has made me insane, here's a drabble i just wrote in like 30 mins. barely edited, hot off the presses, hope u like
sucker
~500 words
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Who the hell let this man have a lollipop in the workplace?
You could kill Garcia. 
You’re trying to act normal– trying so hard– but he looks so good. His hair is longer than it's ever been, so beautifully curly at the ends and you just know it’s soft. You need to test the theory but you can’t and it kills you on even a regular day. 
But today is a thousand times worse. There’s something about Spencer since he got shot, he just seems to give less of a shit. It definitely shouldn’t be as attractive as it is. 
It doesn’t help that you’d come in to tell him that you all had to be on the jet in thirty, and then he and Garcia had started asking questions, so Spencer’s been looking up at you from his chair for the past few minutes and something about it is getting to you. 
So yeah, you’re trying not to get so immediately caught for staring at Spencer as he wraps his lips around the lollipop again, but you’re also not about to miss a single second of it. You’re not about to do yourself that disservice. 
You clear your throat as the news broadcast about your unsub ends. “Right. So we’re going to Louisville.” 
Spencer moves to get up, finally. Popping the candy in his mouth, he waves one– large, long-fingered– hand at Garcia and reaches for his crutches. 
What is wrong with you?? You need to get it together before you’re stuck on the jet with pretty boy and all of the most astute people-readers in the Western hemisphere. 
God, you hate your life. If the universe was kind and loving it wouldn’t have had you meet Spencer in the behavioral analysis unit. If the universe was kind and loving, Spencer would be yours already. 
This was some kind of cosmic joke. 
“You good?” he asks. He took the lollipop out of his mouth to speak to you, his eyebrows raised in the most annoyingly attractive way. 
“Yeah?” you scoff, as if he’s the one being weird. 
“Okay. Cause you told me we have to leave and now somehow you can’t keep up with the guy on crutches,” he muses from the doorway, while you haven’t moved an inch. 
This man. If he wasn’t injured you would hurt him. You might just do it anyway. 
You shoot him a sarcastic smile. “I was being polite.” 
“How chivalrous of you,” he says, putting the candy back in his mouth and crutching his way down the hall without a second glance. 
You look at Garcia, and it’s a mistake. You can read her like a book. “Don’t,” you warn, pointing at her, and she presses her lips together but is clearly smiling behind them. “And I am so mad at you for that,” you add, gesturing after him. 
“Wh– he just took one, it’s not like I–” 
“Save it!” you call, already halfway out the room. You hear her laugh behind you, and shake your head. You love that girl, but she was not doing you any favors. 
Fuck it. 
You breeze past Spencer in the hallway. “Keep up, pretty boy.” 
You hear his indignant, playful scoff behind you, and you can’t help the smirk that creeps onto your face.
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osaemu · 2 months
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GOJO SATORU: GUILTY CONSCIENCE
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✩ ‧ ˚. serial killer!au: ever since that first night, you can't get him off your mind—and even though you handed him over to law enforcement, it looks like he still wants you too. PART 1 | NSFW
contents: fem!reader. porn with plot, dubcon, semi-public sex (in a bathroom), oral (m. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), pet names (detective, princess, smart girl, pretty girl, etc.), gojo cums in your mouth. non-sexual threatening. non-sexual usage of knives/guns. more plot than porn. this is not good for you btw !!! 4K words.
author's note: pls appreciate your smut writers bc this shit is hard !!!! the sk!series might be over after this one bc i'm not feeling it anymore, but nothing's set in stone yet. posting this for the ppl who wanted a part two, but personally i would've just left it as a standalone.. oh well, i didn't want 4K words to go to waste, so enjoy 🤍
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“satoru gojo, what are we going to do with you?” your subordinate asks, resting his hands on the table dividing the dim interrogation room in two. you and your coworker sit on one side, facing the serial killer on the other side—who also happens to be the man you fucked in an alley two weeks ago.
ever since that first encounter, you haven’t been able to get his face out of your mind. at work, his ice blue eyes haunted your every move. at home, he was all you could picture as your mind strayed back to your time beneath him. and now, as you and your boss interrogate him, all you can think about is how good satoru’s hands felt roaming over your skin when you cornered him—or, more accurately, when he cornered you.
“i dunno,” satoru replies, leaning back in his chair and resting his hands behind his head. he grins shamelessly, looking you up and down with interest. “so, pretty girl, how’ve you been since we last met?”
you slip your hands into your pockets to stop yourself from doing something you’ll regret and ignore the curious look your coworker gives you. “this meeting isn’t about me. this is about the people you killed and the punishment you’re about to get,” you answer through gritted teeth.
satoru laughs, eyes locking with yours and seeing right through you. “that’s funny. so, who’s this shrimpy guy next to you? your boyfriend?” he jeers, grinning unnervingly at your coworker. you shoot your subordinate an apologetic look, which he responds to with a nod.
“i’m her boss, actually,” he clarifies, running a hand through his blonde hair and narrowing his eyes. “kento nanami. and i’ve been referred to as a lot of things, but shrimpy is a first.” satoru makes a face and laughs, as if he’s amused by the whole scene. 
“really? i’m surprised,” satoru replies easily. “i mean, whatever. i’ve seen better looking officers… like the one next to you.” he looks back at you, a careless smile still dancing on his lips. kento frowns and looks back and forth from you to satoru, and you force yourself to maintain a poker face in order to detract any suspicion.
“do you two know each other?” kento asks, crossing his arms. satoru starts laughing again, to which you roll your eyes. even if satoru were to tell kento what you hadn’t—that you two had fucked when you were supposed to be arresting him—you doubted that kento would believe him. after all, what’s the word of an obnoxious criminal compared to yours?
you shake your head and ignore satoru. “i’m the one who’s been leading the investigation on him for the past couple months,” you answer. kento meets your eyes and cocks an eyebrow, so you continue, “we met two weeks ago. i cornered him, but he escaped—”
“she let me,” satoru interjects, clearly enjoying the death glare you shoot at him a second later.
“you held a gun to my forehead,” you remind him pointedly, tapping the spot on your head where you vividly remember the cold metal resting against. 
“yeah, but i kissed it aft—”
“we’re getting off-topic,” kento interrupts, shooting you a warning glance. “detective, i’ll handle the interrogation from here.”
you hesitate, not liking how smug satoru’s expression is—but, seeing as you don’t have a choice, you dip your head in assent and exit the room. 
now that satoru’s been caught and is now in the grasp of the law, you don’t really have anything to do for the rest of the day. he was your case, and now, it looks like it’s closed, especially if your boss is the one interrogating him.
kento nanami has a reputation among law enforcement—he’s known as the stoic, serious man with a perfect record. there hasn’t been a single criminal he’s interrogated that hasn’t cracked, although the knot in your stomach tells you that this might be the first.
a sharp knock sounds on your office door, summoning you back from your train of thought. “it’s open,” you call, holding a piping hot coffee with both hands. kento opens the door and steps inside, eyebrows unusually tensed. his hands are balled into fists, too, in stark contrast to his characteristically calm demeanor. 
“something wrong?” you ask tentatively, studying your boss’s troubled eyes.
kento takes a seat in the leather chair in the corner of your office and rests his elbow on the armrest, rubbing his temples. “detective, be honest with me. what happened the night you were supposed to arrest satoru gojo?”
for the first time since satoru pinned you to the wall of a darkened alley, your heart drops. kento’s knowing eyes watch your every move, from the subtle twitch in your eye to the way your fingers tense around the cup of coffee. “what do you mean?” you ask carefully, surprised at how steady your own voice is.
“detective, don’t play games with me,” kento asserts calmly, hand casually drifting towards the side of his waist. you know him well enough to know what he’s reaching for—the same instrument that another man pressed against your forehead just two weeks ago.
despite your mind being clouded with fear and uncertainty, you manage to rationalize your way through the situation. what proof could your boss possibly have besides the word of a criminal? 
it’s your word against his—and you both know whose word kento’ll believe.
“that night, he threatened to kill me,” you start, repeating the story you told the authorities when they came ten minutes too late to catch satoru. “and he must’ve drugged me or knocked me unconscious because next thing i knew, he was gone.” your confidence grows with every word, and you start nodding as if you believe your own lies.
kento’s eyes narrow, and you force yourself to hold your poker face as he scrutinizes you and your words. three long, painful seconds of silence pass before his hand moves away from the holster strapped to his waist, and you internally sigh in relief. he stands without a word and makes to exit the room, but before he does, you risk it all. “why do you ask, sir?”
your boss pauses and turns back to you, eyebrows lifting in mild interest. he doesn’t answer immediately, and you tentatively ask, “...what did he tell you?”
kento exhales a soft huff of air, a look of dread in his brown eyes. “detective, for your own peace of mind, i assure you that you don’t want to know.”
well, fuck.
“i trust your judgement, then,” you reply, feeling your poker face start to slip away. you lift your now-cold cup of coffee to your lips and take a sip, attempting to hide the grimace that threatens to make an appearance. “have a good night, boss.”
“you too, detective. stay safe.”
“i’ll do my best.”
kento nods and heads out, and through your open window you watch him tell another one of your coworkers about how he’s planning on heading out early to make bread for his family, a gentle smile on his lips. eventually, he waves bye and exits the building.
you finish off your coffee and stand up, fishing out your key card from your pocket. you figure that you should head to the bathroom before you go home, just in case. a couple of your coworkers congratulate you when you come out of your office, praising you on the capture of your suspect. you take their compliments with a smile, ultimately wishing them a good night and escaping to the bathroom.
the door clicks shut behind you, and the comfortable quiet eases you at once. but before you can even appreciate the silence of the confined room, a sultry, familiar voice interrupts your thoughts. “aw, you weren’t gonna say bye before you left?”
you turn and your mouth drops open—standing before you, in the flesh, is the criminal you swore you last saw handcuffed to a chair.
“what the fu—”
satoru reaches out and grabs your wrist before you can scurry away or grab your phone. he pulls you into his chest, and you can feel his heartbeat against your back—at least, that’s what you notice before he clamps his hand over your mouth to stifle your yells.
“shut it,” satoru hisses, breath hot against the side of your face. he turns you towards the mirror of the bathroom so you can see how he’s holding you—one hand over your mouth, and one wrapped around your waist. “don’t try anything clever, sweetheart. i wouldn’t wanna have to hurt that pretty face of yours.”
you turn your head and glare at him furiously, cussing like a sailor against his hand. you eventually try to bite it, but your meager attack is essentially useless against his iron grip. satoru raises his eyebrows sternly and hushes you again, ice-blue eyes boring into your own. 
“i’ll answer your questions, honey, but be careful,” he pauses and nods at his pocket, where the handle of what appears to be a knife—how the fuck did he get his hands on a knife?—pokes out of the cloth. “okay, i’m gonna take my hand off your mouth now,” he murmurs, purposefully lowering his voice.
true to his word, satoru removes his hand from your mouth. you take a long breath and hesitate—again, there’s not much you can do in this situation but play along. if he’s telling the truth, you can ask questions and he can answer them, so you try your hand at getting some information and biding time. someone would have to walk in the bathroom eventually, right?
“by the way,” satoru starts, a grin curving the corners of his lips upward. “nobody’s gonna come save you, princess. the door’s locked from the inside.” he also removes his hand from your waist, letting you take a step back.
“how?” you ask suspiciously, unsure if he’s telling the truth or not.
satoru laughs—his hair falls into his eyes, and immediately shakes it away with a huff of breath. “i’m good with my hands. but you already know that, don’t ya?”
you back away towards the other side of the bathroom, where sinks line the quartz countertop. “why aren’t you still in the interrogation room?”
“you think you’re the only girl i can convince to let me go?” satoru tuts, clicking his tongue disapprovingly. he reaches into his pocket—not the one with the knife—and extracts a badge of some sort. satoru flicks it at you, and you catch it in midair. to your surprise, it’s the badge of one of your superiors who was supposed to be keeping an eye on satoru. the coy smile on satoru’s face confirms what you’re thinking, and his nod seals it the next second. 
“okay,” you say carefully, drawing out the word for a couple seconds. “how long have you been waiting here?”
“long enough,” satoru answers vaguely, not bothering to elaborate.
“thanks a lot,” you deadpan.
“nice to see that you’re still feisty—”
“and what the hell did you tell my boss?” you interrupt, suddenly remembering the dread-filled way kento had looked at you. the way your voice rises is unexpected enough to force satoru to involuntarily take a step back. it’s not much, but the step you take forward a second later to assert your position brings you a small feeling of satisfaction. after all, he’s only human—and all humans get surprised by loud noises.
satoru holds up his hands in mock surrender and eyes you skeptically. “you’re really worried about your boss’s approval, aren’t you?” he asks dryly, white hair falling into his eyes again. “heh, desperate much?”
you roll your eyes and curl your hands into fists—unfortunately, your action only seems to amuse satoru, but you ignore the little “aw” he coos and continue glaring at him. “answer the fucking question, satoru.”
“language,” he snorts. a second later, satoru cocks his head and thinks for a moment, and when his eyes land on you again he asks, “so, you’re still callin’ me satoru? cute.”
your face involuntarily heats up, and even though you’re sure satoru can tell, you pretend not to notice—again. “answer the question or i’ll scream.”
“you wouldn’t dare.”
“wouldn’t i?”
you don’t get the chance to fufill your threat, because satoru sees that you’re serious a second too early—everything’s a blur as he grabs your wrists and bunches them into one hand, firmly securing your hands behind your back. his chest rests on top of your back as he folds you over the bathroom counter, and his reflection leers at you from the mirror. “nice try, baby. but remember, you’re dealin’ with a world-class serial killer.”
“world-class? how humble of you,” you snap irritably, craning your neck to glare at satoru out of the corner of your eye. “you asshole, get off me or i’ll—”
satoru interrupts you by prodding at your lips with two of his fingers, forcing your mouth open and slipping them inside. you instantly attempt to bite him, but his fingers are so long that they trigger your gag reflex instead. “missed me, detective?” satoru coos, curling his fingers downwards and pressing on your tongue. a little whine involuntarily slips out of your lips, and satoru takes that as a yes. “yeah, i can tell,” he continues, studying your heated face in the reflection of the mirror. “i bet you couldn’t stop thinkin’ about me since that night, yeah?”
he doesn’t bother waiting for a response before he extracts his fingers and leaves you gasping for breath. you watch as satoru lifts his now-soaked fingers to his lips and runs his tongue over them, ice-blue eyes boring into your own. it’s disgusting, filthy even, but that doesn’t stop your thighs from clenching together in a futile attempt to hide your arousal from him.
“y’know, i think you’re wearing too many clothes,” satoru sighs, resting his chin on top of your head and smiling coyly. “wanna fix that for me?”
“do i have a choice?”
“no.” satoru pushes himself off of you and gives you enough space to start removing your clothes without his smothering presence. the idea of running away or screaming crosses your mind, but the serial killer’s smile makes you certain that you’d regret it—and that’s even disregarding the knife that’s still shining at you from his pocket. 
seeing as you don’t really have any other option, you slowly shrug off your coat and let it slide down your body and onto the floor. your collared shirt comes off next, followed by your pants, until there’s hardly anything shielding you from satoru’s hungry eyes. the feeling stirring in the pit of your stomach is hard to describe—it’s something like a mix between longing and fear, two emotions you hadn’t felt since that night.
and maybe, even though every instinct you have insists that this is the last thing you should be finding pleasure in, you want to feel that way again.
“you really coulda been anything in the world with that body,” satoru sighs, leaning back against a wall and taking his sweet time looking you up and down. his eyes narrow slyly as he watches you shrink away from him instinctually, and the next thing you know, he’s on you again, hands tracing over your skin and lips unbearably close to yours. “although, i guess it’s a good thing you’re a detective, ‘cause i wouldn’t have met you if you weren’t.”
you shouldn’t be agreeing with him, and as he lifts you up onto the counter, you also know that you shouldn’t be letting him do this. it goes against everything you swore to protect when you joined law enforcement, and if this ever got out—no, when it got out, you’d be the pariah of the city.
but even after thinking it through, one, two, maybe even three times, you can’t find it in your heart to care about much else than the hands pushing apart your thighs and slipping inside your shamelessly wet cunt.
“heh, how long has it been since we last did this?” satoru coos, eyes glazing over with a mixture of lust and adoration. his face is redder than you’ve ever seen it—the blush spreads all the way up to the tips of his ears, and it’s even more prominent underneath the overhead lights as he eyes you. “two weeks, right? feels like it’s been twenty.”
“do you ever shut up?” you mutter sourly, averting your eyes from satoru’s. he responds by curling up the two fingers he has inside your cunt, a mean little smile on his lips. 
“careful with that mouth of yours,” satoru warns, pushing his fingers in farther until he’s practically knuckle-deep inside of you. his thumb rests firmly against your clit, toying with the sensitive skin. “it’ll get you in trouble one day, pretty girl…” satoru withdraws his fingers in one swift motion with a soft, wet pop. he lifts his hand to his lips and licks off your slick, swiping his tongue over his fingers a couple times with a smile. “y’know what? i’ll let you go if you can do one thing for me, ‘kay?”
he waits for your response, raising an eyebrow patiently for you to catch your breath. it almost feels like deja vu, or some cheesy movie from the 90’s: the pretty little detective getting fucked by the big bad serial killer, and you know how these films always ended—not pretty.
“what?” you ask halfheartedly, expecting him to ask you to do something like erase him from the police records or sabotage the investigation. satoru cups your face with both hands, leaning in close enough for his lips to brush against yours, and his smile is almost mocking when he replies.
“suck my dick.”
part of you wants to ask “that’s it?”, but the glimmer in satoru’s knowing eyes makes you certain that he won’t make this easy for you. 
“what if i say no?” you ask tentatively. it’s a stupid question—now you’re just playing russian roulette with his rationality, and either way, you already know your decision.
the past two weeks have been torture. every waking moment of yours was spent thinking about the man you fucked, and every time you thought of his carefree smile and feather-light touch, you just felt guilty for wanting more. after all, when you first became a detective, you swore to prioritize your job and not make any personal relationships with your subjects. and yet, here you were, almost too eager to get on your knees for the serial killer who you swore to incapacitate. 
satoru shrugs nonchalantly in response to your question and not-so-subtly shoots a furtive glance at his pocket, where the handle of his knife still pokes out. “you’re a smart girl. i think you can guess, yeah?”
and that’s how you ended up with your lips wrapped around satoru’s dick for the seventh time (if you include every fantasy you’ve had about giving him head). it’s almost funny how he switches up the second you run your tongue over his blushing pink tip—his face goes red, all the way up to his ears, and the little breathy moans that slip out of his lips would be adorable in any other context but this.
“f-fuck, wasn’t expecting you to be this good,” he manages to mutter through gritted teeth, eyes fluttering open and shut. “where’d you learn to suck dick like this, heh—”
it’s been.. a while since satoru first helped you get on your knees in front of him and unzipped his pants, and even though it could’ve just been a couple minutes, it feels like this is all you’ve ever known. satoru’s ice blue eyes have barely moved from you since you started, and it looks like it’ll stay like that until you finish—or, more accurately, until he finishes.
satoru’s foot bounces on the floor as you lick a long stripe from the tip of his dick to the top of it, and the way his nails dig into his palm makes you absolutely certain that he’s close to cumming down your throat. “shit, don’t— don’t stop,” he chokes out, threading his fingers through your hair and involuntarily pushing down your head. “fuck—”
when satoru finally cums, it’s pitifully obvious—actually, it’s almost embarrassing. last time, you were the one in shambles when he was done with you, but now, it looks like it’s the other way around. his eyes flicker as they almost roll back from the sheer pleasure of you sucking him dry, and when satoru’s cum shoots out of his painfully hard dick, it’s a hot mess that leaks out of your mouth and down your chin. 
“y-yeah, good girl,” he murmurs shakily, reaching down and swiping his thumb over your cum-soaked, swollen lips. you lick off the thick, viscous liquid from his fingers instinctually, a dazed little smile on your face as you watch satoru tilt his head back towards the ceiling.
it’s interesting, seeing the city’s infamous serial killer like this. he’s leaning back against the white tile of the bathroom walls, chest heaving from his orgasm, and in that moment, you realize that his attention is on everything else but you. 
so, naturally, you stab him in the back.
not literally—that’d be a pain for your office’s custodian to clean up, but you extract the knife from satoru’s discarded pants and, before he can register the sharp object in your shaky hand, you press it to his blush-red throat. 
satoru’s hazy eyes widen in disbelief as he realizes what’s going on before they narrow in what looks almost like a mix between anger and shock. it’s stupid, foolish, and almost naive, but somewhere in your chest, it feels like a dagger pokes at your softened heart when you categorize the look in his eyes as betrayal. which is, by all accounts, entirely unreasonable—did he seriously think you wouldn’t take advantage of him like this?
at the end of the day, no matter how good the dick was, you weren’t about to sacrifice your well-paying job for a man on the run from the law.
“what the fuck?” satoru snaps, hand twitching in a movement to throw you off of him, but thankfully, the sudden shift in atmosphere heightened your instincts to a point where nothing could possibly catch you off-guard. you dig in the knife a millimeter deeper into his throat, avoiding eye contact with the man you just made cum with your mouth. “are you—”
“yeah, i am,” you assert, biding time. as much as you’d like to pretend that you’re completely in control of the situation, there’s only so long that you can hold up this stalemate. satoru’s stronger than you physically, and the second he figures out a way to handle the knife pressed to his neck, he’d get his revenge.
satoru comes to this conclusion about as fast as you did, and his lips curve upwards in a jeering smile. the look in his eyes is borderline insane when he snarls, “nobody’s gonna rescue you from me, princess. just you wait—”
and, with perfect comedic timing, the bathroom door opens, and one of your female co-workers steps in. you’ve never talked to her much, but thankfully, her instincts are even faster than yours.
what happens next goes by in a haze. your co-worker holds a gun to the side satoru’s head, and calls for backup. then, a handful of sleepy-eyed police officers haul away a cursing and fighting satoru to who-knows-where.
but just before he’s out of sight, satoru shoots you an unsettlingly calm look. and as if that wasn’t concerning enough, the last words he mouths to you are “this isn’t over.”
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flynnriderishot · 2 months
Note
What about reader being an influencer who's expressed her interest in matt as a joke with her friends in a video and it circulates everywhere AND THEN! Nick or matt or chris sees it and likes it and then they meet at a party or smthng and reader tries her best to absolutely ignore them but it doesn't work ! Something a bit humorous LOVE U SO MUCH RAH
cute - m.s
a/n: i am 100000% so so so sorry. i didn’t realize i wasn’t following your request fully until i came to post on tumblr 🤦🏾‍♀️ i did the first part of your request the way you asked but when i got halfway, i kind of went completely off whatever came to mind. again, i’m so sorry 😭 i can rewrite it if you don’t like it…. i hope you enjoy it tho
not proofread :(
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
“how do you stay so positive?” y/f/n read off her phone screen, pulling your attention away from your own device.
“um…delusion.” you smiled at the camera, earning a snorting laughter from the girl behind the camera.
you could see her eyes water at the response. your face fell, though a small twitch of your lip let the viewers know you were about to joke with her,
“it is not that funny. relax, girl.”
she rubbed her eyes, her laughter slowly fading away, yet the smile was prominent on her face, “come on.”
“next question.”
“okay, this a good one. who’s your celebrity crush?”
you took a second to think about it before answering, “he isn’t really a celebrity, but if i were to go ‘famous’, i guess…i would probably say matt sturniolo. he’s really cute, but if we’re talking like, actors and shit, then dylan obrien is the way to go.”
your answer was so vague that you didn’t think it would cause too much of a big impact, but as you glanced behind the camera at your friend, you couldn’t help but take note of the wide eyed look she sent in your direction.
“what?”
she shrugged her shoulders, “nothing. moving on.”
•••
“…then dylan obrien is the way to go.”
chris snorted at the video, his thumb moving him to the comments before he could even think about it.
his eyes narrowed as he read them.
sturniolosqueen bae knows matt?? we’re screwed 😭
| lovelysturn she knows vinnie too 😭💀
| secretlysturniolo yn is not worried about any of y’all, i promise 😭
ynsbabygurl imagine they saw this
floweryln YN, LOVER. THE STURNIOLO FANDOM IS HERE!! TAKE THIS DOWN ‼️‼️
notasturn dammit.
luckilyyn matt being her crush is the highlight on my year
| sturnonfire that’s concerning….
sturnioloscolby “delusion.” IM PEEING 😭
ynsgoddess YN KNOWS THE TRIPLETS ⁉️
| nickssturn NICK WATCHES HER VIDEOS TOO
chris has heard of the girl before, but never really watched her videos since her content wasn’t really directed towards guys like him. but he knew for a fact that he’s heard yn’s voice coming from his older brothers room.
“hey, nick?!”
“what.” the eldest triplet deadpanned, walking into the living room where his brother sat.
“you know her?”
nick didn’t give it much thought as he looked at chris’ screen as he passed, “yeah, that’s yn. she’s a youtuber, why?”
“she likes matt.”
“who likes me?” the man himself walked into the room.
“yn ln.”
nick’s eyes widen, a sudden peak of interest flooding his veins, “oh my god. really?”
“is that not what i just said?”
“i heard what you said, i just didn’t understand it at first.”
“that makes no sense, nick.” chris scoffed, absentmindedly handing his phone off to matt as he and nick started an argument.
“it makes perfect sense.”
matt drowned out the conversation happening between the two, watching the video over for the third time before speaking, “she’s pretty.”
nick glanced at him, “right? what i would do to have her skin.”
matt raised his brow in agreement. you didn’t have nice skin.
“i sent her some lip balm, i’m wondering if she’s got it yet.”
“what does your lip balm have to do with her looks?” chris tried to rile his brother up again.
“stop talking to me.”
matt rolled his eyes, shaking his head softly as he went to his tiktok, just then noticing the amount of posts he was tagged in that mentioned you as well.
your video hadn’t even been out for a full day yet and there were already edits of you two.
one in particular got his attention with song, MMM HMM by Lancey Foux and the ‘boaf’ audio in the beginning of it.
without much thinking, he double tapped the edit, doing some more scrolling through the app before he eventually got bored and went to play a game in his bedroom.
what he wasn’t aware of was the uproar one like would cause between two fandoms.
•••
you sat at your desk, ipad in hand with your phone propped up against a bottle as you were on instagram live.
you were talking to your viewers whilst scrolling through videos they tagged you in. your eyes were bright with happiness at the edit of you to Tipsy by Miss Luxury.
“you guys are too sweet.” you liked the video, moving your eyes back to your phone screen to see an interesting chunk of comments come in almost all at once. “i can’t read all the comments guys, slow down.”
| go to the slaybaeyn acc! they make hella edits of you bae
| yn x sturniolo triplets when???
| LIKE MY EDIT PLEASE
| YN MATT SAW YOUR VIDEO
| hearing you like dylan obrien makes me feel like my soul is connected to you
“i’m not connected to anyone’s soul. don’t wish that on me.” your eyes widen, unsure whether or not the person was joking. one thing you didn’t play around with was spirits and voodoo stuff.
| lmaooo 😭😭
| PLEASE 💀
of course, anyone new to your fandom would have thought you were being rude, but your followers have gotten used to your humor over the years.
the ones having the chance to meet you in person have confirmed that you were just a naturally awkward and dry humored person.
it’s why people loved you so much.
“oh my god, i almost forgot. guys, guess what?”
without even looking at the comments, your eyes moved around your desk in search for something in particular.
“SpaceCamp sent me stuff!” the excitement in your voice had your viewers gushing.
while you made a lot of jokes and did very well when it came to getting other people laughing, it was hard for your supporters to find clips of you showing you were having a good time doing something. a lot of the time, your features were very sarcastic and ‘dry’ so this moment was almost revolutionary.
| her smile 😭🫶
| yn’s yearly happy clip ‼️
| she’s too cute, i can’t.
| SPACECAMP⁉️ AS IN THE STURNIOLO TRIPLETS ⁉️ AS IN NICK ⁉️AS IN MATT ‼️⁉️
| why are y’all acting like she’s unhappy all the time? the girl just has a dry sense of humor and a resting bitch face 🌝
| YN DID YOU SEE THAT CHRIS SAW THE CLIP OF YOU SAYING YOU LIKED MATT???!‼️‼️
“chris saw me saying i have a crush on his brother?” you placed the box of lip balm in your lap, your face falling slightly. “why the fuck didn’t you guys tell me this sooner?”
| y’all done made her mad 🙄
| HE LIKED AN EDIT OF YOU GUYS TOGETHER
| we’ve been tagging you bae 😫🤷‍♀️
you squinted your eyes, looking side to side before sighing softly, “don’t play with me.”
nicolassturniolo has joined the live!
“even when i trust you guys, i can’t trust you guys. i didn’t get tagged in shit.”
| NICKS HERE
| NICKKKK
| HI, NICK
nicolassturniolo you got the package!! i hope you enjoy it
“hi, nicolas.” you vaguely greeted, pretending you weren’t internally freaking out over his presence. “i haven’t tried them yet but i love the packaging. thank you so much for sending it.”
nicolassturniolo so glad you like it 🤭
nicolassturniolo add me
it took a few seconds for the live to connect but nick was now in your live, his face showcasing his happiness.
“NICKKK.”
“YN”
matthew.sturniolo has joined the live!
| HIIIIIMATTT
| MATTYYY
even if you wanted to pretend you didn’t see the comments, the shyness that suddenly took over you let the people know that you were aware of matt joining the live.
matthew.sturniolo the edit by sturnioloxyn on tiktok goes crazy
“matt, shut up.” nick said, residing his brothers comment before directing his attention to you, “so, what’s this i hear about you having a crush on my brother?”
your face pulled into a wince, “oooh. let’s not talk about that.”
“no let’s talk about it.” nick laughed, adjusting his body so he was laying stomach flat on his end.
“oh my god.”
matthew.sturniolo i think you’re cute too by the way 😉
taglist:
@hearts4chris @timmyandsturniolo @mayhem-72 @luvsturns
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steddiealltheway · 8 months
Text
(A special post for my dear friend Cass @henderdads who is celebrating 10k followers 🫶💛 can’t wait to celebrate more milestones with you 🥳)
Eddie watches the follower count on the Corroded Coffin TikTok rise every time he refreshes their page as the rest of the band looks over his shoulder.
“I can’t believe your bat song is going to bring us to ten thousand followers. Considering it’s about-”
“Shut up,” Eddie cuts him off, refreshing the page again.
“Seriously though,” Grant says, pointing at the follower count, “We’re going to hit ten thousand pretty soon.”
“Which is a big milestone for us,” Jeff adds before circling in front of where everyone in staring at Eddie phone. “Shouldn’t we celebrate or something?”
All the boys pause for a moment, and Eddie can feel them all staring at him, waiting for some type of creative revelation as if he can just come up with something on the spot like... “I have an idea.”
Gareth and Grant high five as Eddie jumps up and points at Jeff. “Go get some lame confetti party poppers and a cheesy celebration cake.” He turns to Gareth and Grant and points at them. “You guys need to find out how to put our follower count on a laptop or something while I set up my room so we can do a livestream on Tiktok in there.”
“We’ve never done a livestream.”
“Exactly!” Eddie says clapping his hands excitedly, “That’s what will grab people’s attention and boost our follower count. We’ll tell them that follower ten thousand will get a special private video from us or something. I don’t know. Whatever they want!”
“What if they ask us to strip?” Grant asks.
Jeff sighs and puts a hand on his shoulder. “No one is going to ask you to strip, dude.”
“You never know!”
Eddie just laughs as he rushes off to his room.
“Wait!” Jeff yells after him.
Eddie pauses and turns around.
“What money am I using to by this stuff?”
Eddie sighs and digs his wallet out of his pocket, pulling out two twenties and handing them over. “If this doesn’t cover it, you’ve done something wrong.”
Jeff smiles widely before running out the door yelling, “I’m gonna spend all of it!”
Eddie doesn’t even care about his money going down the drain, he’s too excited about reaching ten thousand and being able to call Wayne about it. For now, it’s time to seriously do some work to his room in order to make it somewhat presentable…
-:-:-:-:-:-
Eddie adjusts the camera stand and the ring light he bought for their videos that he gets constantly made fun of for buying. But the guys can’t deny how much better their videos look, so he doesn’t want to hear it.
“Jeff, give me your phone.”
Jeff hands his phone over but whines, “Why my phone?”
“Because you have the best camera,” Eddie explains, setting it up and going to their tiktok page. The numbers are quickly climbing through the nine thousands, and at this rate, they’ll definitely hit 10k during the livestream.
Once everything is prepared, Eddie asks, “Ready?”
Everyone nods and Eddie starts the livestream. He waves at the camera and watches the view count grow quickly. “Oh wow. Hi everyone. We haven’t done this before, so sorry for anything weird that may happen or when Grant inevitably says something dumb.”
Eddie gets a smack on the back of the head as Grant says, “Hey!” Jeff and Gareth just look at each other knowingly and laugh.
Eddie half winces and smiles as he rubs the back of his head and reads the comments asking about the numbers on the computer. “Oh shit. Yeah! Oh wait, I don’t think I should’ve sworn. Oops. Uh, anyways!” He takes a deep breath and gestures to the computer screen. “So, this the whole reason for our livestream. We’re about to hit ten thousand followers-”
“Thanks to you guys!” Gareth interjects.
“Yes, thank you guys. Really. From the bottom of my heart. Thank you,” Eddie says sincerely, laying his hands over his heart. “And we thought that we’d do something special for our ten thousandth follower. Maybe send them a video of us doing a cover of their favorite song or something. We don’t know! Whoever it is, you get to choose.”
“But you can’t make us strip!” Grant yells.
Eddie runs a hand over his face before gesturing dramatically toward Grant. “And this is what I meant when I said Grant would inevitably say something dumb.”
Gareth and Jeff just laugh as Grant turns red. Eddie turns around and pats him on the shoulder. “You know we love you.”
“Yeah, because you would suck without me.”
Eddie turns around and looks at the camera. “That’s absolutely true.” He looks at the comments and notices people asking them questions about when they’re releasing another song and if they’re planning on touring anywhere soon.
Jeff leans over squinting and says, “Oh! Our next song is called Hellfire Rains!”
Gareth looks at him slowly and asks, “Dude, are we allowed to say that?”
Eddie puts his head in his hands. This is absolutely a disaster, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. Eddie’s head pops back up. “We could do something even worse and give them a sample of it.”
He sees the comment section flood a bit with affirmations of YES PLEASE. I BEG OF YOU.
Eddie turns to the guys and shrugs. “Are you guys good if I play a weird acoustic version of it?”
All the guys shrug and nod until Jeff stops to say. “Wait, what if we hit ten thousand during that?”
“Then, you guys stop me and we look at the follower,” Eddie replies.
Jeff nods and says, “Okay, but what if I told you we’re only nine followers away from ten thousand?”
“What?!” The rest of the boys yell and turn to the computer, noticing the numbers going up.
Eddie scrambles to grab his phone and go to their page, refreshing their notifications to grab the name of the ten thousandth person. He quickly looks at the camera and says, “Okay guys, I’ll give you that cover after we hit this milestone and freak out.” He refreshes the page and grabs Gareth’s shoulder. “Wait, do you have the party poppers?”
“Shit!” He yells running to the plastic Walmart bag and digging through it, handing them to everyone.
“It’s about to happen guys!” Jeff yells.
Eddie’s heart thuds in his chest as he refreshes the page over and over.
“Holy shit!” Grant yells first as Gareth and Jeff yell to celebrate. Eddie glances at the screen showing 10,000 and laughs as everyone pulls their confetti party poppers. He turns back and refreshes the page.
He freezes.
“Eddie, man, who is the lucky person?” Jeff asks excitedly.
Eddie looks at them with wide eyes.
“What?” Gareth asks.
Eddie looks back at the name and presses on the profile, noticing their mutual followers confirming that it’s a legit account. “Oh my god.”
The guys all rush around his phone and stare at the page.
Gareth shrieks with laughter. “Holy shit! Steve Harrington? The same infamous Steve who your bat song is about?”
“The same infamous Steve who you had a horrible crush on in high school but could never get the courage to talk to him?” Jeff adds with a laugh.
“I talked to him once,” Eddie grumbles out running his hands over his face. This cannot be happening.
Gareth laughs loudly and says, “Let me recall it.” He turns to Jeff and acts like he gets flustered as he says, “Uh. Steve. Steve Harrington. You’re. Hi. Yeah. You. Uh. So Dustin and you. That’s cool. I. Well. Good seeing you!” Gareth then turns to run away quickly.
Jeff laughs loudly as Grant says, “Uh, guys?”
Eddie shakes his head as Gareth and Jeff ignore Grant to laugh about it until Grant yells, “Guys!”
They all look at him and notice him staring off. Eddie realizes that he’s staring at Jeff’s phone…which is still streaming.
They all seem to realize it at once and freak out. “Turn it off! Turn it off! End it!” Eddie yells as Grant drops the phone and Jeff scrambles to end the livestream.
They all pause and slowly look at Eddie who breathes out, “What are the chances that Steve wasn’t on that livestream and that everyone will forget about this?”
The rest of the boys slowly turn to look at each other with grim looks on their face.
“Oh no,” Eddie says burying his face in his hands. This is not going to be good.
-:-:-:-:-:-
Sure enough, the next day, there’s a viral TikTok going around of the movement that someone had screen recorded, and Eddie’s phone is spammed with texts from Dustin, annoyed at Eddie for never telling him about his pathetic crush on his babysitter.
Eddie ignores it and his friends attempt to drown out his sorrow with cake and platitudes of, “Hey, we’re actually gaining a lot of followers from this.”
Eddie just groans and buries his face in his bed. This cannot be happening.
“We did promise that we’d give our ten thousandth follower something special,” Jeff says. “So we still need to follow through with that.”
Eddie sighs, “I’m not going to message him.”
“Then I’m going to message him from our account and pretend to be you,” Jeff says.
As Gareth and Jeff encourage him, Eddie slowly sits up and says, “No. No. I’ll do it.” He begrudgingly reaches over and grabs his phone.
“And while you’re at it, people are complaining about you not doing that short cover so…” Gareth trails off as Eddie shoots him a glare.
“Okay, well we’re going to go pick up some food and give you some space so you don’t kill us,” Jeff says while grabbing Grant and Gareth and dragging them away.
“Thank you!” Eddie yells after them.
“But you’re not getting food unless you’ve sent him a message!” Jeff yells before closing the front door.
Eddie sighs and takes a deep breath before he glances at this phone, ignoring all the text notifications from Dustin, but he becomes curious about the text from a number he doesn’t have saved. He clicks on it.
As your 10,000th follower, do I still get to request something?
This is Steve Harrington by the way
Eddie nearly throws his phone but swipes to Dustin’s texts instead typing out, YOU GAVE STEVE MY NUMBER????
He scrolls through the dozens of texts, noticing a sequence of important texts he missed.
can i give steve your number? he’s asking me for it
eddie i swear he’s not mad or anything
okay i can’t promise that but it didn’t sound like he was mad
eddieeeee
eddie stop ignoring me
if you don’t respond im going to send your number
okay
im sending it
if anything happens i expect to be the first to know!!! don’t make me find out from a tiktok ever again
Eddie takes a deep breath and reasons that at least now he knows the number is legitimate. He opens the texts from Steve and stares at them. There’s no way he can text him.
And for some reason, he immediately decides to call him with is arguably a thousand times worse, but before he can hang up, Steve already answers with a, “Hello?”
Eddie swallows and tries to remember how to speak. “Hi,” he croaks out before clearing his throat and trying again, “Shit. Hi.”
“Hi,” Steve says, sounding amused.
Eddie sighs and lays back on his bed. “So, what are the chances that you weren’t on the live stream and you didn’t see that video?”
“Zero.”
Eddie groans. “I’m so sorry. I haven’t checked TikTok yet, but have people found you and flooded your notifications?”
“Uh…” Steve trails off, sounding hesitant to answer.
“I’ll take that as a yes. God, I’m so stupid. I just completely forgot the livestream was going or I never would’ve dragged you into this mess.”
Steve pauses and asks, “And what if I told you that I’m glad you forgot it was still on?”
Eddie sits up. “What?”
“What if…” Steve pauses and Eddie hears rustling on his end as if he’s anxiously twisting around. “What if I told you that I know what I want as your ten thousandth follower.”
“To punch me?”
Steve laughs, and Eddie tries as hard as he can not to latch onto the noise. “To ask you on a date.”
Eddie freezes in shock. Yeah, this isn’t happening.
“Eddie? Are you still there?”
“Yup, still here,” Eddie manages to breathe out. He pauses before asking, “You’re serious?”
“Yeah,” Steve replies, “I kind of had a big crush on you in high school, too. And I may have redownloaded TikTok when I heard about your live stream.”
“No way,” Eddie calls him out.
“Yes way. You should ask my best friend Robin. She saw the live stream and timed the follow perfectly for me. Plus, she’s suffered through my crush on you and has always been mad at me for never doing anything about it.”
Eddie can’t believe it. “Steve, can you FaceTime me right now?”
“Uh, sure. Yeah.”
Eddie clicks on the FaceTime button and waits until Steve’s face appears on the screen, further confirming it’s him and further freaking him out. Gosh, he hasn’t seen him in a while and he’s almost forgotten how gorgeous he is.
“Hey,” Steve says with a smile.
Eddie wants to melt into a pile of goo. “Hi.” He pauses for a second, getting a bit lost in seeing Steve’s smiling face on his phone. Then he remembers, “Oh! Okay, tell me again. But look me in the eye so I know you’re not lying.”
Steve chuckles and asks, “Eddie Munson, my secret high school crush, will you go on a date with me and fulfill the promise you made to all your followers?”
Eddie smiles and says, “Yes.”
-:-:-:-:-:-
A few days later, Eddie posts an update on the Corroded Coffin TikTok with a video of him singing a sneak peak of their new song then glancing off camera to ask, “Does my ten thousandth follower like it?”
Off camera, there’s a voice that sounds exasperated as they say, “How many times are you going to call me that instead of your boyfriend?”
Eddie puts his guitar down and rushes off camera quickly with a smile, but then the voice asks, “Did you end the video?”
Eddie pauses before saying, “No.”
“This is going to be a lasting issue isn’t it?”
“Maybe,” Eddie confesses.
Then, the mystery man appears in the shot, revealing Steve’s smiling face before he ends the video.
Once again, the video ends up going viral, and soon enough, Eddie is celebrating 50k with all the band members along with Steve (and Dustin who is very mad to find out about their relationship via the second TikTok). But he wouldn’t have it any other way.
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asbealthgn · 10 months
Text
wrote this goofy thing as an expansion of this post
It’s very surprising when the door to Eddie’s trailer opens and Eddie is standing there with flowers.
It’s even more surprising when he says, “Happy one month!” with a big grin.
Steve looks back and forth between Eddie and the flowers—wildflowers by the look of them, probably picked around the edges of the trailer park. “Uh, one month of what?”
Eddie gives him an uncertain smile like he’s not sure if Steve’s being serious or not. “Of our relationship,” he says, the last syllable tilting up almost like a question.
Huh. Kind of weird, but at the start of summer Steve and Robin had an ice cream party to celebrate the year anniversary of when they started at Scoops together. So it’s not like this is completely unheard of. Except—
“You and I have been friends for longer than a month,” Steve says, “It’s been like—” he tries to count the months since spring break in his head “—at least four? Unless you don’t count when you were unconscious in the hospital, but that was only a couple weeks, so—”
“I mean one month of our relationship,” Eddie says, putting emphasis on the word. And now his eyebrows are drawn together. Face concerned. And Steve is clearly missing something here.
Did something significant happen a month ago? Some moment where they moved from friends to best friends or something? It was probably about a month or so ago the first time Steve spent the night at Eddie’s trailer, but that wasn’t a huge deal. Steve has spent the night at the Byers’ house before and it’s not like he and Jonathan are breaking out the balloons to commemorate it. 
Steve feels guilty, because clearly there’s something that Eddie thinks he should know that he doesn’t. He doesn’t like this nervous look on Eddie’s face. Steve tries to think like Nancy, tries to put the clues together. But he’s not Nancy. So he’s lost. 
“I’m sorry, dude,” Steve says, “I don’t get what you mean.”
Eddie deflates.
“I know we haven’t necessarily defined it.” His voice is wavering, eyes getting watery. Shit shit shit, what did Steve do? This is so completely out of nowhere and Steve doesn’t know how to fix it. “But I didn’t realize it was actually that insignificant to you.”
Steve shoots his arm out to stop Eddie from closing the door on him. He needs to figure out what’s going on so he can make it right, and that’s not gonna happen if Eddie shuts him out. “Eds, seriously, you’re gonna have to fill me in,” he says, “‘Cause I honestly don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”
“Seriously?” Eddie asks, anger over taking the sadness in his voice, “You’re gonna act like you don’t know?”
“I don’t!” Steve nearly shouts, desperate. “Please, man, I’m not trying to piss you off here. Whatever it is, I wanna make it right. You just have to tell me what you mean.”
“You and I,” Eddie says. Looking at him like it should be obvious. When it’s so, so not. It makes Steve want to scream. “We’re—I thought we were together.”
“Together? Like…together how?”
Steve doesn’t think he’s ever seen Eddie look this pissed off. “Use your goddamned brain, Harrington,” he spits, “Like together.”
Oh. Okay. That’s…something. It’s not that Steve would necessarily be opposed, or even that he hasn’t thought of it. It’s just not true. They’re not together. And he’s not sure why Eddie thinks they are. Yeah, they’re close, but it’s not like they’re closer than Steve and Robin. It’s not like they’re closer than Steve was to Tommy back in the day. He and Eddie haven’t done anything that feels outside the realm of friendship to him. And he definitely didn’t realize that Eddie saw it any differently.
“Um,” Steve says, aware that he’s standing like an idiot on Eddie’s doorstep and needs to answer. “Why?”
“Oh my God,” Eddie says, making as if to close the door again. Steve barely catches it in time. It makes Eddie glare at him. “There’s no way you’re being serious,” he says.
Keeping one hand on the door, Steve throws up the other one in a gesture he stole from Robin. “I really am,” he says, “You know what the kids say. I’m an idiot. You really have to lay things out for me.”
That at least makes Eddie soften a few degrees. “You’re not an idiot, Steve,” he says, “You’re just—oblivious, apparently.”
“Yeah, that too.”
Eddie sighs. “Just come in. We can talk about it.” He steps back and lets Steve come inside. The flowers are still clutched in Eddie’s hand, starting to wilt. Eddie sets them on the table before joining Steve on the couch. 
“A month ago is when you stayed over for the first time,” Eddie says. Steve nods. “And you kissed me.” Steve nods again. Eddie lifts his eyebrows significantly. “You’re not seeing the connection?”
Steve shrugs. “I mean, I guess there’s other ways you could construe that,” he says, “But I thought it was, like, a friend kiss. A goodnight kiss.”
“A friend kiss,” Eddie says flatly. “You kiss a lot of your friends?”
“Sure,” Steve says, “Well, Robin prefers forehead kisses and Jonathan’s more of a hug guy, but I used to kiss Tommy and Carol all the time.”
Disbelief is the main emotion on Eddie’s face. And a whole lot of other ones that Steve can’t quite parse out. “So—everything we’ve done,” Eddie says, slowly, like he’s trying to come to terms with it. “It’s all just…been normal friend shit to you?”
Steve thinks back over the last month, trying to think if anything stands out in his head as non-platonic. Maybe there’s been a time or two when he was kissing Eddie or cuddling up to him in bed or sitting on his lap during D&D where Steve’s felt a sort of stirring deep in his belly. But he figured that was one-sided. His body’s reaction to whatever was happening and not a manifestation of, like, feelings or something. After all, the same thing used to happen with Tommy when they’d do similar stuff. And clearly they were just friends.
After a full twenty seconds of Steve not answering, Eddie drops his head in his hands. “Holy shit,” he mutters. Then he lifts his head. “This—you—the other day. You slept over. We made out. You—you took my fucking shirt off, Steve.”
Yeah, that did happen. And Steve doesn’t have a great explanation for it. “I don’t know,” he says, “It was the heat of the moment or whatever.”
“The heat of the moment,” Eddie repeats, and Steve can’t tell if he’s on the verge of tears or the verge of laughing. Eddie puts his arm on the back of the couch and leans toward Steve. “Can you honestly say that you’re not attracted to me at all?”
Annoyingly, Steve can feel his face start to heat. “I never said that,” he mutters.
For the first time, Eddie looks triumphant. “So you are attracted to me?”
“Yeah, man,” Steve says, squirming uncomfortably. Of course he’s attracted to Eddie. What’s not to be attracted to? He’s smart, funny, hot, good with the kids, good on the guitar, good at kissing. Helped save the world. “You’re, like, it for me. I definitely think about you that way. I just didn’t think you thought about me that way.”
Eddie laughs, the sound containing more disbelief than humor, but still overall a good thing. “I can’t believe the guy who’s been sharing my bed for the past month didn’t think I was into him.”
“Hey, you’re not the only person whose bed I’ve shared.” Shit, that was a bad way to put it. “Platonically.”
Shaking his head, Eddie laughs again. “Clearly, your idea of platonic does not line up with mine,” he says. “But you mean it? You’re into me?”
“Yeah, Eds,” Steve says, “I’m into you.”
“So, does that mean you’d want to be my boyfriend?”
“Apparently I already have been for the past month,” Steve says, grinning.
Eddie grins back. “Doesn’t count if you didn’t know.”
“Then we can count from today,” Steve says, “Starting now, I’m your boyfriend.”
He hasn’t finished saying the last word before Eddie is surging forward and taking Steve’s face in his hands. He shifts onto Steve’s lap, kissing him deeply. 
And it doesn’t feel platonic at all.
3K notes · View notes
lxclerc · 22 days
Text
𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ─ 𝐨𝐛𝟑𝟖
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summary: when max verstappen’s adopted little sister starts soft launching, the whole grid launches an investigation on who it might be
pairing: ollie bearman x f2 driver! max verstappen’s adopted sister! reader
faceclaim: no one in particular
note: i accidentally published this before it was finish so now i’ve completely lost the request but anyways the request really was just about max being reader’s grid dad but i ran with it a little
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*ੈ✩‧₊˚ twitter
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.ೃ࿐ yourusername posted on her story!
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landonorris replied to your story: it’s like you have a death wish
yourusername: shut up
landonorris: rest in peace to the unlucky guy 🫡
arthur_leclerc replied to your story: soft launching knowing mad max is your warden is insaneee
yourusername: i just got that dog in me ig
arthur_leclerc: never ever say that again
paularon_ replied to your story: so long, ollie. it was good knowing you, mate ✊
yourusername: so dramatic for no reason
maxverstappen1 replied to your story: that better be just be some stranger you picked up on the side of the road to tie your shoelaces and not a boy you went around japan with when you told me you were only going out with your team
yourusername: remember that you love and adore me and i am 17 years old and can make my own decisions
maxverstappen1: nice try. who is he?
yourusername: no ❤️
ੈ✩‧₊˚ messages
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ੈ✩‧₊˚ instagram
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liked by olliebearman, maxverstappen1, paularon_ and others
yourusername suzuka, youve been very nice to me 🫶
view all comments…
user1 the way she ran to max’s arms after the podium 🥹
user2 a red bull girl with her red bull dad
user3 so we’re not going to talk about the 3rd pic?
maxverstappen1 who is he and why are you going on dates without telling anyone? what if something happens to you and no one knows where you are or who you’re with?
↳ yourusername calm down, we were with the team 🙄
↳ user4 overprotective dad max is so adorable i cant lie
↳ user5 if they were with the team, does that mean the guy’s also part of the team? another driver maybe?
↳ user6 user5 youre onto something
victoriaverstappen je bent geweldig, mijn meisje. blijf stralen ❤️ (you are amazing, my girl. keep on shining.)
↳ yourusername ik hou zielsveel van je, v 💕 (i love and adore you to bits, v)
paularon_ congrats or whatever
↳ yourusername jealousy doesnt suit you
↳ paularon_ nvm fck u 💕
arthur_leclerc stop winning
↳ yourusername get a seat first ❤️
olliebearman congratulations, yn! another trophy to bring home ❤️
↳ yourusername thank you, ollie!
use7 the difference between paul and arthur then ollie bye i love their friendship 😭
landonorris girlll who is heeeee
↳ yourusername no ❤️
↳ charles_leclerc come on, at least give us a clue
↳ carlossainz55 is he also a driver? what team does he driver for?
↳ yourusername yall are grown ass men way too interested in a teenager’s love life. absorb some sunlight
↳ user8 she gagged yall im afraid 😭
ੈ✩‧₊˚ messages
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ੈ✩‧₊˚ instagram
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liked by olliebearman, paularon_, arthur_leclerc and others
yourusername hello, lover ❤️
view all comments…
olliebearman my girl ❤️❤️
olliebearman love you to the moon and to saturn 💫
↳ yourusername buzz lightyear’s got nothing on us frfr
↳ arthur_leclerc why can’t you be normal?
↳ yourusername ollie loves me with all the weirdness and shit
↳ olliebearman yeah that’s about right
↳ arthur_leclerc 🤮🤮
↳ user1 arthur is your regular third wheel bff
paularon_ ollie’s trying to keep his cool in the comments but he’s red as a tomato
↳ olliebearman shut the hell up no im not
↳ yourusername youre not? 🥹
↳ olliebearman i mean of course i am got me giggling and shit too
↳ paularon_ you’re both disgusting
user2 arthur and paul are so over them 😭
user3 i fucking knew the back of that head was familiar!!!!
user4 oh? OH!
user5 idk what hurts more. the fact that i no longer have a chance with ollie or the fact that i no longer have a chance with yn
user6 waiting for max’s comment
maxverstappen1 you better watch it the next time you step in for either carlos or charles, bearman 🙂
↳ yourusername you promised
↳ maxverstappen1 i promise i’ll carve charles’ appendix out myself so ollie and i can face each other on track man to man
↳ olliebearman i- sir?
↳ charles_leclerc mate, what the fuck did i do to you
↳ yourusername maxie come on. you promised me you’d be nice
↳ maxverstappen1 fine 🙄
maxverstappen1 dinner’s at 8 on tuesday. don’t be late
↳ olliebearman yes, sir 🫡
user7 not charles getting dragged into it 😭😭
↳ user8 max is just completely unable to go through a conversation without mentioning charles ♡ liked by yourusername
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liked by victoriaverstappen, olliebearman and others
yourusername it was truly unfortunate for max to find out that his cat is also now in love with ollie
view all comments…
user1 omg sophie and victoria also joined the dinner 😭
↳ user2 girlie really introduced her to the whole family
↳ yourusername well actually max invited them along to try and intimidate ollie but jokes on him, they loved him
↳ user3 yn and ollie to max when vic and sophie ended up loving ollie: oh how the turntables
maxverstappen1 sassy is NOT in love with a ferrari driver
↳ yourusername one thing you, sassy and i have in common with
↳ user4 yn truly is just a lestappen truther
olliebearman sassy 🫶
↳ yourusername oh i guess ill just die then
↳ olliebearman my love beautiful angel girlfriend yn ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
↳ yourusername better
↳ arthur_leclerc did you just get jealous over a cat?
↳ yourusername did you really just lose your seat?
↳ yourusername it’ll get old when you get your seat back
↳ arthur_leclerc that’s getting old 🙄
user5 each and every day, arthur tries to come for yn’s neck and each and every day, yn gags him
paularon_ olliebearman in a scale of 1-10, how scary is it to face mad max head on?
↳ olliebearman just peachy 👍 (i nearly shat my pants)
charles_leclerc does this mean that max’s promise is null and void?
↳ maxverstappen1 none of you figured out who it is 🤷
↳ yourusername what promise?
↳ maxverstappen1 ….nothing
landonorris i can’t believe we didn’t figure out it’d be bearman
↳ george_russell it seems so obvious now
↳ alex_albon i asked him straight on and he lied to my face
↳ olliebearman i was terrified max would find a way to run me over with his rocketship if i even dare utter it
↳ alex_albon yk what absolutely valid
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also this turned out wayy longer than i meant it to which is why it took so long.
903 notes · View notes
galaxysgal · 5 months
Text
𝐢 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 || 𝐥𝐢𝐩 𝐠𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐫
pairing: lip gallagher x fem!reader
summary: just lip being a cute bf + debbie and ian being little shits
warnings: lowercase on purpose. poorly written tbh. swearing but y’all know how it is. heavily unedited. gen said yolo so i’m posting
A/N: i’ve been on hiatus for god knows how long but my roommate and i started watching shameless and i can’t get this mfer out of my head. things w school and life are hard rn so i just wrote this comfy cozy little thing in my notes app. yolo asf.
wordcount: probably like 500 or less idk i wrote it in my notes app at 1am
— — — — — — — — — — —
you’re nestled in lip’s arms, high up on his rickety top bunk. somewhere between finishing your nails and kissing until you could barely breathe, you had fallen asleep right against his chest.
you stirred now, your cozy world interrupted a squeaky little voice. “are you in love with her?” debbie questions.
lip shushes his sister, “be quiet, she’s sleeping.”
you were wide awake now, but much too comfortable to move and make that little fact known. plus, you wanted to hear his answer.
“i asked you a question dummy. are you in love with her?”
lip stutters, “i-i dunno. i really like her, okay?”
you’re satisfied with that answer. “in love” was a little too much too quick. but “really like” was something that made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside.
“what d’ya like about her?” ian presses.
you can practically hear the gears turning in lip’s head as his siblings impatiently await a response.
“she’s- i dunno, she’s pretty?” lip replies. you hold back a scowl, annoyed at him for not having a better answer.
“yeah, great rack,” debbie comments.
“jesus, deb!” lip’s head falls back in frustration, one hand coming to cradle your head as not to wake you with the sudden motion.
“cut the shit lip,” ian interrupts. “tell us what you really think.”
you hold your breath as you wait for his response. his lips brush your hairline before he sighs. “she’s sweet, yeah? real kind.”
“a real woman of the people,” ian snorts, “princess diana type.” then “ow!” as you hear debbie shove him.
“and- and she’s real smart, too,” lip continues. “really, really fuckin’ smart. an’ she works hard. she just tires herself out sometimes.”
he strokes your hair gently, pressing a few more fleeting kisses to your forehead.
“you’re so whipped.”
you hear debbie shove her brother again, and this time ian fights back, the two making a ruckus as they push each other back and forth.
“come on guys, out. now.” lip orders his siblings around with that same stern voice you’ve heard plenty of times before.
debbie pouts. “but-“
“no buts. go on, she’s fuckin’ sleepin’ in here an’ you’re gonna wake her up. fuck off.”
“we were just-“
“fuck. off.”
“jesus,” you can practically hear ian roll his eyes. “alright, alright. we’re going.”
debbie yells for fiona as the two shuffle out of the room, not bothering to close the door behind them.
you smirk to yourself as lip groans above you, showing your cards. “you’re awake?”
you peer up at him through your lashes, a smirk planted on your lips that he’s just dying to kiss off. “can’t believe your little sister said i have a great rack,” you whisper.
lip laughs, loud and genuine. “yeah, she’s been stuffing fi’s old training bras. growin’ up an’ shit. i don’t like it.”
you’re quiet for a moment, admiring him. you know how important those kids are to him. he’d do just about anything for them, including the minor crimes you find him tangled up in on a weekly basis. he loves them like they’re his own kids, which honestly they kind of are. they may shove each other around, curse each other out, yell and scream at the top of their lungs, but at the end of the day lip has been more of a father to his siblings than frank ever was.
“you really meant all that?” you ask.
lip looks down at you, his blue eyes soft in the dim light. “yeah. yeah, i did. meant every word.”
you smile, leaning up to place a solid kiss on his lips. “for what it’s worth,” you murmur, “i really like you too.”
2K notes · View notes
endlessthxxghts · 22 days
Text
Dr. Miller - Pt 2
Orthopedic!Joel Miller x afab!Reader | W/C: 4.8k
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Summary: It’s time for your second appointment with Dr. Miller.
Warnings: canon-divergent - no outbreak, medical professional au. Reader (she/her) has female anatomy and is able-bodied. No physical description of race. Reference to reader’s clothing, but no sizes mentioned (everything is neutral). Pet names (darlin’, angel, girl, etc). Most definitely doctor malpractice LMFAO. 18+ MDNI. Inherent power imbalance (doctor-patient relations). Dirty talk. Hickeys/biting/marking. Fingering. Slight begging. Praise kink. Multiple orgasms. Spit kink. P in V unprotected (wrap it before you tap it, guys). Cum play/cum swallowing…snowball kisses🥴. Daddy kink… and last but not least, the ending.. I’m not gonna say what, you’ll just have to read, but I’m sorry😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 although I’m foregoing a warning or two for plot purposes, please let me know if they should be up here! I’ll fix it accordingly!🫶
A/N: Here goes round 2! As far as the series goes and as far as posting it goes LMAO!! This hellsite deleted my first attempt in posting, so hopefully it stays up this time around. And I’m giving a big thank you to @honeyedmiller for proofreading and catching my horrendous grammar mistakes lololol I love you🩶 Anywho, I hope you guys enjoy!!! I’d love to hear what you think :) luv u guys xx
series masterlist | main masterlist | update blog
<- PREVIOUS
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Friday. 4pm. Your next appointment with Dr. Miller was tomorrow. 
This was the first ever doctor appointment you’ve ever been excited for. The automated text their system sends out didn’t tell you to arrive early, and you’ll admit, you were bummed. 
You’ll show up early regardless. Maybe he’d be able to see you sooner if his schedule allows. At least, you can hope, anyway. 
After your appointment with him last week, you were left hurt and wanting. You knew the hurt was a natural reaction to the sudden dopamine drop, and something tells you Dr. Miller is a guy who’s adamant on aftercare. So, you swept those emotions under the rug easily. 
Not so easily, however, was your needy cunt and the way it drooled and throbbed for nearly an entire week straight, craving the one thing she almost had. She barely had a taste, but she was already hooked, addicted even. 
Your fingers, your vibrator, your purple dildo that’s helped you come plenty of times – nothing could get you off. Not anymore. 
Unbeknownst to you, Dr. Miller had the exact same problem. Well, okay – he could ejaculate just fine, but the want never seemed to leave his system. Ever since he’s had his taste of you, he could never reach the feeling of satisfaction. And it has taken an absolute toll on him. 
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Dee snarked. Only she could ever talk to him like that. She keeps him on his toes. 
“The hell is wrong with me?” he huffed. 
“You’re being a grump, doc,” she replies. 
He rolls his eyes. “Ain’t I always?” 
“Yeah,” she says thoughtfully. “But you seem more… miserable.”
“Gee, Dee, well thank you for that,” he replies monotonously. 
“You’re welcome,” she snickers. She comes closer, voice hushed. “Seriously, though. Do you need to get laid or something?”
He chokes on the coffee he now regrets bringing up to his lips. “Jesus,” he coughs. “Time and place, Dee,” he says, trying to collect himself. 
She raises her hands up defensively. “I’m just lookin’ out for ya, doc,” she smirks, howling out a laugh as she puts Dr. Miller out of his misery by returning to her desk. 
He just shakes his head in response, fighting the blush on his cheeks at the thought of you taking care of the needs Dee so outwardly pointed out he had. 
Dr. Miller wouldn’t have to wait much longer, though. Your appointment was so soon, only one more work day before he’s able to be blessed by your presence again. That is, until Dee finds another opportunity to shit on Dr. Miller’s mood. 
“What do you mean we’re supposed to close early tomorrow?” Dr. Miller gruffs. 
“Exactly that, Miller,” Dee treads lightly. “It was in the calendar. Too many people have off in the afternoon tomorrow. It’s Easter weekend. You’ll be sorely understaffed.”
“Then who booked the patients after 2 if us closing early was in the calendar?” Dr. Miller is never one to be an asshole, dictating boss, but his irritation is very much getting the best of him right now. 
Dee whispers her next response. “…The new hire. But don’t blame them. I should’ve caught it sooner,” she reasons. 
Dr. Miller takes a steadying breath. “So how many people do we gotta disappoint right now?”
Dee pulls up the calendar on her phone. Dr. Miller watches her shoulders physically relax. “Oh! Actually, you’ve only got one person. At 4. I’ll call right now to reschedule,” Dee says with a finality. 
“Wait- who?” Dr. Miller asks. He knows who it is. 
Dee looks confused for a moment, but she indulges and reads off your name to her boss. 
“Y’know what, Dee,” Dr. Miller waves her off. “I’ll take care of that appointment, it’s fine.”
“Dr. Miller, are you sure-”
“‘Course,” he cuts her off. “I’m the only one in this damn office without Easter plans, anyway,” he huffs. “Empty nest or however that sayin’ goes.”
Dee nods in understanding. “How’s she doing?” 
“Fuckin’ amazin’,” Dr. Miller marvels. “She just surprises me more ‘n more everyday.”
Dee smiles before she returns to their situation at hand. “Are you sure you don’t want me to reschedule?”
“I’m sure,” Dr. Miller states. “Listen, I know this practice wouldn’t be able to run without any of y’all, and without you especially-” Dr. Miller explains. 
“You flatter me,” Dee butts in with a straight face. 
He smirks before continuing. “But have some faith in this old man, why don’t ya? I think I’m more than capable of doin’ the whole check in, check out thing.”
Dee takes in a sharp breath. “It’s much more than that, Miller, but nonetheless,” she holds her hands up in surrender. “I’ll put some faith in ya, old man.”
“Thank ya,” he drawls. “Now please go talk to the new hire about their mistake, I think they’re still afraid of me a lil bit.”
She laughs in the affirmative, shutting Dr. Miller’s office door on her way out. 
Holy shit. 
His plan to get you alone just worked itself out. Thank you, newbie, he thinks to himself.
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Dr. Miller’s office is less than ten minutes away from you, yet somehow you decide that if you left any later than 3, you’d keep Dr. Miller waiting, and you certainly didn’t want that happening.  
The parking lot is completely empty, a lone vehicle – a hefty truck – sits only two spaces away from your own. Your tummy swirls, knowing exactly whose car that might be. However, another swirl of nerves swarms through you. Why are there no other vehicles? 
Swallowing the anxious lump in your throat, you step out of your car and make your way inside the office. Inside is even further void of life than the parking lot. 
You make a beeline for the check-in window, picking up the pen from the cup to begin filling out your information when a deep drawl of your name startles you.
“Dr. Miller,” you jump, your eyebrows flying to your forehead. 
“Shit,” Dr. Miller chuckles. “Sorry, darlin’,” his voice was much softer, careful. “I do that a lot to my staff- sneak up on ‘em, they call it. Say I need a bell or somethin’ ‘round my neck.” 
You laugh with him at the little anecdote. He motions for you to come on back already, dismissing the check-in process since it’s only you, he explains. 
“Why is it only me?” You ask. Well, okay – you know why it’s only you, but how is it only you is the question. He did not just send everyone else home since you’d be here. That would raise too much suspicion. 
Walking you to the patient room furthest from the potential public eye, he retells the new hire’s mistake. You find yourself in the same mindset as Dr. Miller as you silently thank them for not being more careful. 
“You could’ve rescheduled me, you know,” you tell him, eyebrow raised. 
“Yeah, I know,” he quips as he opens the door for you. 
You step inside, turning around to face him. “So why didn’t you?”
The door clicks shut, and Dr. Miller’s now face-to-face with you, head tilted down to meet your challenging gaze. The air in the room becomes dangerously charged. 
“I think you know why, angel,” he says, scarily smooth. 
You don’t back down. “Enlighten me.”
He takes a step closer to you, forcing you to step back. “Why should I? When that very reason is right between those legs already crying for me, huh? I bet she’s a fuckin’ mess already, ain’t she?” 
You gulp as your ass hits the exam table, not realizing that Dr. Miller has been slowly cornering you. 
Without giving you a moment to respond, his lips are crashing into yours, his large hands grabbing onto either side of your face to keep you against him as your body melts into his hold. His tongue licks across your bottom lip, and your mouth opens, letting him in. You mewl into his mouth, each of your tongues lapping one another’s flavors, your senses immediately being consumed. 
The kiss breaks, and you both are frantic. Your hands grab onto the exam table behind you and you hoist yourself up, your fingers already finding the hem of your shirt as you rip it off, letting it fall to the ground. Dr. Miller practically growls at the sight, his chocolate brown eyes blackened with pure need. 
He shucks off his white coat, letting it join your top as he pounces on you again. He nips at your bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth and letting it go with a pop as he drags his scruffy face across your jaw and down your neck, biting pretty little bruises everywhere his mouth touches. 
Your hands find the bottom of his shirt, taking the liberty of pulling it off and whining when it gets caught over his broad form. “Patience, angel, I’m not goin’ anywhere this time,” he coos, his eyes genuine. 
You huff out in mock annoyance, your eyes silently thanking him for the reassurance. You pull back to let Dr. Miller take off the upper portion of his scrubs. Your irritated façade is quick to fade as your eyes coast his body: his broad shoulders and tanned chest, the product of laborious activity throughout one’s life; your eyes drag down to his softer middle, the product of a happy, indulgent life. Your spit is suddenly thick. 
Dr. Miller’s thumb comes up to rub across your bottom lip. “Ya alright? Got a lil bit of drool right there,” he taunts. 
You tilt your head and take his thumb in your mouth, letting your spit coat his digit generously as your hands pull him in by his waist, your fingers scratching the expanse of his sides and his belly. “So fucking sexy,” you murmur, eyes alight with hunger. 
Unable to verbally deal with the compliment, Dr. Miller pulls his thumb from your mouth, settling his hand on your jaw as he pulls you in to kiss your lips again. It’s much softer this time, more savory. He takes his time with it, and it has both your resolves breaking as Dr. Miller’s free hand finds the clasp of your bra and undoes it with ease, the article joining the haphazard pile on the floor. 
Dr. Miller kisses down your neck once again, your body leaning back to give him more access. His mouth goes straight for your hardened nipple, his tongue circling the entire area before putting as much as he can in his mouth and sucks.His hand fondles your other breast while he works the one in his mouth. You’re moaning and writhing at the stimulation, your pussy utterly leaking past the barrier of your pants and onto the exam table. 
“Dr. Miller, please,” you gasp. “Please- need more,” you moan, eyes rolling back at a particular nip to your bud. You can feel him smile against you, his mouth relenting only to move to your other breast. Dr. Miller is all about detail, of course he needs to make sure every part of you receives ample attention. 
He releases you with a pop, a devilish grin on his face as he stands back to his full height. His hand snakes to your front, the pads of his fingers rubbing softly at your clothed center, your slick completely soaked through. “Ya need more?” He drawls. “Tell me what you need, baby,” he says sickeningly sweet, his entire hand moving to cup your sex, the squelch of your arousal making his cock twitch. 
“Fuck-” you squeak, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling. “T-touch me, p-please,” you stammer. 
To outsiders looking in – hell, to even you – it’d seem as though Dr. Miller is entirely calm and collected, at ease in the way he’s been teasing you. Yet, with the way his cock is straining the material of his scrubs and the way his chest heaves, he is anything but. He is so far gone, he nearly wanted to rip your clothes off in the waiting room and take you over the fucking counter. But he didn’t, much to his displeasure, but he tells himself the buildup is worth the wait. And, fuck- with you? It’s so fucking worth it.
“I am touchin’ you, darlin’. Touch how? Use those words, sweet girl, I know you can,” he tells you, squeezing your cunt in a way that has your belly doing flips.
“Oh, God-” your head rolls back, body on fire. “F-fuck me, Dr. Miller, n-need your- fuck- need your cock, need it so bad,” you plead, eyes tearing up the more you speak. The man finally broke you. 
Dr. Miller smiles wildly. “Atta girl,” he rewards you, “I’ll give it to ya,” he breathes. “Lord knows you’re all I been thinkin’ ‘bout,” he admits as his fingers begin nudging your pants down. 
“Yeah?” you breathe softly as you lift your hips for him. Even in your aroused craze, you can’t help but soften at the admission. “Haven’t been able to stop thinking about you either,” you tell him. 
This is so much more than a fucking hookup, you both think. But you ignore that fact for later. 
Shaking off the emotion, as soon as your pants join your clothes, you lean back, settling your elbows behind you to keep you up. Letting your legs fall open, you quirk your brow. “Well, cowboy?”
That brings his attention back. His eyes are fixed on your shiny cunt, his tongue twitches to drink you up. But, no, this is about you this time. And what you want is to be full. He’ll give it to you. But, first-
“I was too big for you last time,” he states matter-of-factly. 
“I-” your eyebrows furrow. “What?”
“I hurt you last time.”
“No you didn’t-”
“I could tell it did,” he rebuttals. 
Without another word, he steps out of the exam room. A beat passes and he’s back – with a fluffy pillow. 
“Um-”
“Lift,” he states. 
You lift your hips up, and Dr. Miller places the pillow underneath your lower back. “This should help open your pelvic floor more,” he says. “And ease the tightness of the position,” he adds.
And it does. 
“Oh,” you whisper. “Thanks,” you say, your cheeks heating up at the action. 
He leans over you to kiss your tummy before his hands settle on the insides of your thighs. “You okay?” He asks. His thumbs rub up and down, dangerously close to where you’re leaking for him.
“Mhm,” you hum, not trusting your voice anymore. 
“I’m gonna fuck you,” he says. 
“Oh, God, please-” you whine impatiently. 
“But I needa touch you first, angel, I don’t wanna hurt you. Please?”
How can you say no to that? To his thick fingers and the way you know he can use them so expertly? How can you say no to the hands that have built his career or to the hands that’ll easily make you fall apart just as much as you know his cock would? You’d be an absolute dumbass to say no to that.
“Okay, Dr. Miller,” you say, voice shaky in anticipation. 
“Joel,” he offers.
Your heart skips a beat. “Joel?” you question. 
“Mhm,” he hums. “My name- well, first name, I guess,” he pauses. His fingers move closer to your core, the softest of touches ghost through your seam. You take a sharp breath in. “Just tellin’ you cuz I wanna hear you moan it when I make a mess a’ you. I bet it’ll sound real pretty, baby.”
His thumb finds your clit, then, and you do exactly what Dr. Miller – Joel – wanted. You moan out his name deliciously, sending him groaning at the pang of desire shooting up his spine, his cock weeping for attention. 
“Fuck yeah, angel, that’s it. Knew you’d sound so fuckin’ gorgeous, fuck-”
His thumb continues its assault on your throbbing bud while the middle finger on his other hand rubs through your wet folds, collecting up the arousal before he pushes into your entrance. 
It’s an easy push, his fingers are thick, so there’s still a slight stretch amongst the pleasure. The work he puts in with both hands has your hips bucking in his touch, and it eases your body enough for him to slip his ring finger along his other. 
His two fingers fuck into you at a sweet pace, the length of him reaching places your own fingers have never felt before. It’s pure ecstacy. “Oh, Joel, yes- shitshitshit, that feels so fucking good,” you cry, your head lolling around like a bobblehead, your body falling weaker and weaker the more he plays with you. 
“Yeah, baby? Like that? That feel good?” He grunts, his heart beating a mile a minute at how fucking pretty and wild you look and sound from his fingers alone. “So fuckin’ wet, baby,” he snarls. “You know what, pretty girl?”
“What?” you whine, trying your best to keep your eyes open and on him as your head begins to tingle from how hard you’re panting. 
“I think you’re ready to take me, baby, I think she’s so fuckin’ ready,” he grins, his fingers adopting a come-here motion, your sobs reverberating throughout the tiny exam room. 
“Come for me first, pretty girl, make a mess on my fuckin’ fingers, and I’ll give what you’ve been crying for,” he all but demands as he looks down and lets a big glob of his spit fall directly onto your clit, his fingers gliding over you even quicker in the mixture. 
“Fuck- Joel!” you scream, the spit being the action that completely throws you over the edge. 
“Jesus, angel, fuck-” he stills his fingers, letting himself feel the flutter of your warmth as you cream all around him.“So fuckin’ perfect comin’ all over my fingers, goddamn, messy fuckin’ girl,” he rambles, his eyes roaming every inch of your body, taking in every twitch, shake, and mewl your body is giving him. 
Your breathing starts to slow, muscles relaxing but not quite over its shaking. He pulls his fingers out of you and brings it directly to his mouth, his cock nearly bursting at the taste of you on his tongue. Another time, he thinks to himself as he bends down to pull the rest of his scrubs off, using the moment to place a chaste kiss to your puffy clit. You yelp at the sensation, a lazy, blissed out smile blesses him, and he can hear his heartbeat thrum in his ears at the sight. 
Joel crowds himself between your thighs again, pumping his cock a few times, his thumb reaching for the precum leaking at his slit and spreading it all over his length. 
“How you feelin’?” Joel checks in. 
“So fucking good, Joel,” you respond, doe-eyed but entirely honest. 
He wants to kiss you so fucking bad.
So he does. 
He leans over you as best as he can in this angle, his length rubbing against your folds as he leans in, his hand wraps at the base of your neck, pulling you in for an open-mouthed kiss – wet, hot, and slow. He pulls away with a blush across his cheeks, and your face is entirely engulfed by flames, too. Did that kiss make him nervous? Did it make you nervous?
Unable to look away from each other, you utter the first thing that comes to mind. “Please,” you whisper, though you don’t really know what you’re pleading for. 
“I got ya,” Joel whispers, pulling himself back to line up his erection with your entrance. 
Even though Joel’s fingers were a stretch all on their own and your body was quick to adjust, you genuinely don’t think anything could truly prepare you for the length and girth of Dr. Joel Miller.
Last week, it was damn near impossible. Thinking back to it, honestly, you think you might want to even thank the nurse that interrupted you two. Still, if Joel hadn’t prepared you today with his fingers, you definitely wouldn’t have been able to take him as fast as you are now.
He pushes in just the tip, and you both gasp at the initial pleasure. Your mewls are more pleasurable than painful this time around, and Joel takes that as the go-ahead to keep going.
“You tell me if I needa stop, darlin’, I’ll stop immediately,” Joel grunts, trying his best to keep slow. 
“God, fuck- Joel, I swear to God, you better not stop- need you so bad,” you lament. He finally pushes himself to the hilt, your rambling continuing as he does so. “Please fuck me, baby, fuck me hard, da-” you gasp and slap your hand over your mouth, catching yourself before you let yourself finish that word. 
Joel pauses all movement, his hands tightly on your hips as his purely black eyes stare down at you. “What’d ya say, angel?”
“J-Joel, I-I’m sorry, I don’t know what-”
“Not my question, babygirl,” he warns softly. “What’d you call me?”
You gulp, opting to just stare at him, silently begging him to spare you of the embarrassment. 
He withdraws from you, all the way out to the tip, then, oh so slowly he pushes back in. He pauses halfway, eyebrow raised. Words.
“Please, Jo-” you start. His hand squeezes your hip in warning. “Please… Daddy, please,” you whine, finally giving in. With that, he pushes in roughly to the hilt, knocking all the wind from your lungs as pure pleasure flows through every nerve in your body. “Oh, fuck!”
“That’s it, angel, such a good fuckin’ girl,” he moans, his thrusts slow but calculated. “Makin’ daddy feel so good, baby, shit-” he tells you, his own eyes finally fluttering shut as he revels in the feeling of the warmth of your walls, tight and fucking perfect.
“How’s daddy’s girl feelin’, baby? Feelin’ good? Hm?” he grunts with a particular thrust forward. 
“So- fuck-” you try to get out, your sweet cries of euphoria cutting you off and forcing you into incoherency. But you’ve experienced enough in this short time with Dr. Miller – with Joel – to know he needs this communication. He thrives on it. So you try your damn hardest. And fuck, it nearly sends him to his end. 
“F-feels so good, so so good- mmm, shit- love your cock s’much, daddy,” you slur, eyes nearly going cross-eyed as Joel’s hips start to move faster, his fingers gripping tight enough to leave little bruises on your waist, a matching set to the marks across your neck and chest. 
The wanton moans spilling from your mouth spurs Joel on, his brain short-circuiting at the feel of your velvety core consuming him. You feel him twitch before he feels you flutter. The sensation wakes you up a little, a wave of confidence overtaking you despite the fervent drive of his hips. 
“You’re close, daddy,” you whine, a mischievous grin across your face. “Can feel you,” you tell him, thrusting your hips softly, attempting to meet his every push and pull with the help of the pillow gliding underneath you. 
“Fuck-” he chokes, his hips only faltering in pace for barely a moment. One hand lets go of your waist and falls where you two are connected. “Need you- shit-” he pants. “Need you to come ‘round daddy’s cock first, pretty girl.” His thumb finds your nerves, slick and sensitive, and wastes no time in forcing you to the brink of another orgasm. 
His fingers circle you, matching the rhythm of his hips, and instantly, your eyes clamp shut, back arching deliciously as you let your legs open impossibly further. “Oh, daddy- oh God, oh fuck- I’m gonna come, I’m gonna-” you yell as your throat becomes hoarse, your chest sinking and rising as you let your body relish in the fire that Joel is throwing you into. 
“Give it t’me, lemme feel you, angel,” Joel urges, his lower tummy flexing as he feels your inner walls spasm and soak his pulsing length.  
“Oh, yes- yeah, fuck- please,” you babble mindlessly. Pulling yourself to sit up, your hand planted behind you, you pull Joel in, lips ghosting each other as his quick breaths fan against your lips. “You gonna come? My pussy that good, daddy?”
Your random spurts of teasing has Joel in all sorts of panic. Usually, he’s one to call the shots, and all his past partners never wanted or requested anything different, but it seems as though he has finally met his match. “Fuckin- Christ, doll- pussy’s so fuckin’ good, baby, daddy’s gonna fuckin- oh fuck-” he keens, pulling out just in time for his cock to spill his entire worth across your mound and your lower belly. 
“Oh my god,” you moan to yourself, your pussy clenching around nothing at the sight of him all over you. 
Joel takes a minute to catch his breath, his eyes scanning every inch of you like he didn’t just violate every Doctor oath he’s ever taken. 
“I think I need to be the one to check in this time,” you let out in a breathy laugh. “You okay?”
He still isn’t looking in your eye, and it makes you nervous. Is he regretting everything now? “Joel?” you call, barely audible. 
His eyes snap to yours before they fall back to where he was looking before. “Yeah, yeah, I’m alright, baby, I just, uh-”
Cutting himself off, he bends down slowly. You watch him, confused but intrigued. He sticks his tongue out, flat, and licks. From your mound to the lower part of your belly, he collects up the salty, milky liquid on his tongue. 
He brings his mouth up to you, his hand finding purchase at the back of your neck. He pulls you into his mouth, his tongue invites itself into your space along with the heady musk of his come, and you welcome it greedily, swallowing every little bit of his arousal that you can.
You break away just before his watch beeps: 5:45pm, fifteen minutes until closing. “That was-”
“I’m sorry, that was disgustin’ I don’t know why I jus’ did that-”
You lean in to nip at him, pulling away with a suck to his pouty bottom lip. “That was hot, Dr. Miller,” you smirk. 
Dr. Miller’s exam rooms, although not often, can see a lot of bodily fluids. Obviously not the kinds that you two have exchanged together, but with the notion of removing casts and such, sweat is bound to get everywhere. So every room holds baby and/or sanitizing wipes just in case. 
He grabs a pack of baby wipes underneath the cabinet and takes out a few. He wipes your entire lower half down, and grabs some more from the pack to wipe himself off. It’s a dance of wobbly limbs as both of you help each other dress back up, you being particularly whiny at how stiff the scrub material is when you try and blame it on his big size. 
“I thought you liked how big I am?” He quips, your eyebrows shooting up in response as you slap his chest. 
All dressed up, you two walk out of the exam room, both you and Dr. Miller on cloud nine as you make your way back to the front office.
Before reaching the door, he grabs on your waist, pulling you against the wall, towering over you. That beautiful Southern gentleman smile bright on display, the kind of smile that has your knees wanting to buckle. 
“I- I had a great time with you,” he says, a little bashful. Sure, the things you did together were otherworldly, but the things that came after? How he was able to help clean you, dress you, and simply just be with you afterwards? He really can’t remember a time he’s felt so right. 
“I did, too,” you tell him. “But, I think…” you trail off. 
His stomach sinks. Here it comes. We shouldn’t be doing this anymore, he knows you’ll say. 
“I think I can’t be your patient anymore,” you whisper with a giggle, wrapping your arms around his neck. 
“Dear God, you just about gave me a damn heart attack,” he huffs, burying his head into the crook of your neck, littering playful nips anywhere he can reach as payback for scaring him. 
You two break out in laughter, it slowly turning into an impromptu makeout session as his lips find yours again, both of you insatiable for one another’s taste. 
You’re so caught up in each other that neither of you realize the front door of the office unlocks, nor do you realize someone is entering the hallway you two are currently in. 
You also don’t hear the gasp coming from the person either, not until-
“Dr. Miller?!”
Shit. 
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beesarekindaswag · 4 months
Text
Prompt : The Mean Girls of Wayne Enterprises
Hear me out…. Mean Girls but make it DCxDP.
The public personas that the bats present, modeled after “Brucie” Wayne are the perfect templates for Mean Girls shenanigans.
Imagine : Our favourite ghost boy has decided to venture out into the world after making sure that Amity would be safe and secure (perks of being the recently crowned King). Danny knows he’d never pass the physical tests to be an astronaut but that doesn’t mean he can’t at least achieve part of his space dream. He’d done his research, very thoroughly at that, and overall it was Wayne Enterprises that came out on top. Their aerospace department was miles ahead of the competition - presumably something to do with Bruce Wayne literally being the one funding the Justice League (and if rumour is to be believed, the OG sugar daddy for a certain Bat).
Disregarding Danny’s personal feelings about the JL, the chance to create technology that will be used in SPACE, for space exploration and understanding was too good to pass up.
Just the thought alone filled him with a sense of contentment. Thankyou space obsession.
Which is what had lead to the current situation - an internship at Wayne Enterprises itself. How he landed it, he has no clue - sure, he’s got some smarts (much more than he’ll give himself credit for) but his grades had suffered from his years of literally saving the city (and by extension, the world). Perhaps it was fate? Or more likely, a meddling time god…
Danny wasn’t complaining though.
Only three hours in to the position and he was barely containing his excitement - literally, the fulfillment of his secondary obsession, regardless of how second hand it might be, created such a buzz in his core. He was having to consciously stop his more ghostly attributes from shining through - not even metaphorically shining, damn you LED freckles (yes we’re using the concept of Danny’s ghost from reflecting his love of space - constellation freckles and all)
Now though, he had been released to break in the cafeteria. There was a panicked moment of ‘oh shit, where do I sit?’ But thankfully, his (half) life was saved by one of his new coworkers calling him over with a friendly wave.
“Hey, Daniel, right?”
“I go by Danny but yeah, thanks for the save there” a awkward laugh at his own words, “didn’t expect it to feel like high school all over again”
There’s polite laughter amongst the table and the conversation flows over to casual small talk. At least, it does until out of nowhere, all eyes jump to the doors.
Enter : The Plastics.
Richard Grayson - the dumbest guy you’ll ever meet.
“Once, he asked me why aster isn’t the opposite of disaster”
Timothy Drake - knows everything about everyone.
“That’s why his eyebags are so big - they’re full of secrets”
And the queen bee, Damian Wayne.
“Once he called me an uncultured swine… it was awesome”
(I don’t know what’s better - Damian aged up to match Danny or tiny Damian being Regina)
What follows is a comedic story: Danny meeting the three, them assuming he’s going to be out of touch being from the Midwest (he is but only in the sense that his version of normal is Fenton dumbfuckery) , him eventually getting past their public personas by just not giving a shit for their drama - he grew up with the QUEEN of mean girls, the Wayne boys have nothing on Paulina Sanchez.
Just, Mean girls Waynes… that’s it - that’s the post.
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