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marleyybluu · 1 year

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Oscar x pregnant!reader

Wc: 1.9k

warnings: daddy issues, use of OMB scenes so spoilers I guess, sad Spooky, shitty ending cus my attention span cut out

"No, no, no! You can not put down two draw fours!" Yn shouted at Cesar while the two dabbled in an intense game of UNO. Cesar chuckled waving his one card in her face. "You're just mad because you're losing." He bragged. Though it was confirmed she would never admit it, she quickly pouted and placed her hand on her stomach, he chuckled shaking his head knowing the card that she was about to play. "I'm gonna tell your niece or nephew you didn't let their mommy win."

Her boyfriend Spooky could be heard letting out a bellyful laugh from down the hall, he emerged from his room making his way toward them where they sat around the table not too far from the living room. "Mamita, you can't say that every time you don't get your way." She stuck out her tongue. "I can and I will for the remaining six months."

He rolled his eyes and planted a kiss on the top of her head. "Fine," She reluctantly picked up eight more cards just for Cesar to dramatically slam his last one on the table. He stood up took the last swig of his beer and rested the empty bottle on the table, he was next to kiss her head before grabbing his things and heading out. "I'll see you guys later, I'm with Monse if you need me."

"Have fun." She called out. The door closed and the house was once again silent, Yn gathered the cards and packed them nicely back into the box they came in. She heard the sound of the front door opening and assumed it was Cesar, she said "What'd you forget knucklehead?" But frowned when she was met with their father, Ray. A few days ago the older gentleman had found himself across from the traphouse, Cesar panicked about a stranger just stalking outside so Spooky went to investigate, and with Yn's nosey ass at the window, she noticed Spooky's body language and he was not happy.

Spooky never spoke about his dad, maybe once, but that was it. She could tell he had resentment in his heart for that man, he was a stranger and for him to pop back up after all these years wasn't ideal for anyone in this situation. YN had to admit it was nice seeing Cesar happy and hearing him talk about all the things they were going to do and how much they had to catch up on but judging by the look on Ray's face right in front of her... those plans would never set in motion.

She pitied him a half-smile before dodging into the kitchen. Spooky sat in the background on the couch observing the cold interaction, internally smiling that she would be on his side no matter the minor details that she knew. Ray disappeared into one of the rooms, Spooky was curious as to what he was there for but was brought out of it when he was called to the kitchen. He got up and followed her voice, she was desperately trying to reach the third shelf and was failing miserably, usually, she'd grab a chair but with a baby inside she was more cautious of what she did.

"Can you grab a plate for me papito?"

"Of course, baby."

She squealed and applauded the small gesture as he handed the plate over to her. "Thank you." She blew him a kiss but he wanted a real one, his hand snaking around her waist he pulled her in tightly. Her hands ran up his neck and landed under his jawline. Their lips touched, fitting like pieces of a puzzle, melting together like it was the first time. She could feel his hands slide a little further down, she gasped at the hard squeeze he delivered she pulled back smacking his chest. "Why can't I have one little innocent kiss?"

"That question is what got you pregnant in the first place." He joked gently pressing his hand on her little belly. Yn shooed him off. Oscar laughed and left her alone only to return to the main area and see Ray with his duffle bag on top of the table packing his clothes up. "Finally cleaning up your mess?" He asked. Ever since he arrived it'd practically become a pigsty, his girl often complaining that she wasn't some maid for a grown-ass man, especially one she had no relation to. Ray avoided eye contact as he answered. "I'm leaving, think I've caused enough drama."

Leaving. All he did was leave, run away from his problems, and scram when things got serious. It wasn't the first time Oscar experienced it but there was no doubt that it still hurt, he felt himself shrink into that little kid again, watching the man who was supposed to be there for him vanish, the man who was supposed to teach him how to become one disappear without a trace leaving him and Cesar alone to fend for themselves.

"Good," He responded. "You tell Cesar your plan?"

There was a moment of silence, Ray had stopped packing and sighed making eye contact with his oldest. "I'll tell him when I get to Bakersfield, there's a guy up there who can help me out... help you out too-"

Spooky had turned cold, that scowl plastered on his face, the boiling hate flashing in his eyes. "I don't need help, I got everything I need."

Ray let out an amused chuckle. "The Santos? That girl?" Oscar took a step forward, fists balled up, father or not he would put down anyone that disrespected his girl. She was his home, his family, she was everything that he needed. "Her name is Yn, and she let you stay with us, not me... if it were up to me you'd be out on the street with the rest of the stray dogs."

Little did they know they had an audience for this performance, not too far off Yn had poked her head from the kitchen she had stopped what she was doing the minute she heard their voices. "I hope they don't sell you out, I hope she's good to you because one day all that love you think you're getting from them is gonna be gone."

"Ray." He warned. "This street shit isn't the life man, you don't have to stay here, go and make something of yourself."

Oscar's eyes softened, and he began to nod in agreement. "Thanks, Papa, you're right. I could be president or a fucking astronaut, maybe even a movie star right? Because I had such a great fucking role model!"

"I had a shitty dad too, mijo," Ray's tone was so nonchalant when he said it and something about it was making Yn's skin crawl it just sounded like he didn't care. "But you gotta let that rage go."

It took everything for her not toa put in her two cents. How do you let the rage from constant and consistent disappointment go? She could tell Spooky had this overbearing feeling that he was a failure, that he failed Cesar, failed the Santos and even failed her-- so how was he just supposed to let that go?

Yn had thought the fire between them had died down, that Ray had left and Spooky was just standing there disassociating at the fact that he was in his twenties and still being abandoned. But when she brought herself into frame the two of them had gone, their muffled argument had moved outdoors. Her feet carried her to the front door, where she stood behind the screen watching it go down from a distance.

"Everything bad that's ever happened in my life is because of you! You're gonna crush Cesar the same way you crushed me!" His voice weakened, almost cracking like he was fighting to keep that little boy inside. Ray was already at the end of the path, one foot almost on the black tarmac road, he dropped his bag and turned around to face Spooky. "You never wrote to me... you didn't call, you didn't even visit not once! Did you even think about me?"

YN placed her hand over her heart, she wanted nothing more than to drag him inside and coddle him for all he's been through but he needed to let this out he'd been holding it in for far too long. She looked as Ray walked back toward Spooky.

"Oscar-" He began but Spooky shut it down. "You wanna know the worst part about not having a father? I had to be a father to my brother without having been a son first!" He sniffled. "I have a girl in there who loves me, who taught me how to love since I didn't have you or mama as examples... she's having my baby and I'm scared that I'm gonna end up like you!"

Oscar broke, completely shattered. Yn didn't think there'd be a day when she heard her partner weeping from the deep sadness that he felt, the sadness that was cloaked in anger. Ray didn't say anything, he pulled Oscar in for a hug and he resisted at first but once again his inner child betrayed him and he loosened a bit returning the embrace and they stayed like that for a while. Oscar buried his head in his father's shoulder, nothing was said, it was a bittersweet and brief moment before that rage entered his system again. That wall reappeared in seconds.

He wasn't little Oscar Diaz anymore he was back to Spooky who aggressively shoved his father off of him. "Take your shit and go, make sure I don't see you here again."

And just like that, he was gone again. Spooky turned around with a pout on his face, he stopped at the front door seeing Yn through the screen. "Did you eat?" Funny that even in his obvious time of need he was still worried about her. She shook her head, stretched out her hand to his and gently pulled him inside. Once the door closed the tears that he had just soaked back up were released once again. Yn pulled him over to the couch, sat him down and then took her place beside him.

He fell apart in her arms. "I fucking hate him." She rubbed his back. "All he does is fucking leave me... what did I do?"

"Ay! You didn't do anything papito, he's just an asshole."

"Am I not good enough?"

She frowned. "You are more than enough my love, I promise you. You are more than enough for me, for Cesar and for the baby. You did a great job raising him and you will do an even better one raising ours."

He lifted his head from where it rested on her shoulder, she swiped her thumb across his cheeks to wipe his tears. "How are you so sure?"

"You already do enough for the baby and they're not even here. You make sure I'm eating enough, you make sure I'm relaxed. I wish you could've seen your face when I told you." Now she was tearing up. "I couldn't have picked a better person to make a family with."

He softly smiled. "I love you."

"Duh." She sarcastically answered which received a decent chuckle. "I love you too, we're good okay? I'm not going anywhere."

"I know." He mumbled. She smiled and pulled him in for a kiss. "Let's eat, yeah?"

"Yeah."

I just felt like writing something kind of sad. idk why.

for the Pedro girlies im working on Truth or Drink3

for the Rio girlies, working on The Nanny 3

trying not to burn tf out lol just put me down at this point.

if you liked this fic feel free to like this fic, reblogs and comments are appreciated.

peace and love.

#oscar diaz #fem!reader #spooky #spooky x reader #spooky x fem!reader #oscar diaz x fem!reader #oscar diaz x reader #spooky fanfic #spooky fanfiction #on my block fanfic #on my block #on my block fanfiction

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buboplague · 1 month

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hello. i'm an art nerd and as such do art nerd things like study art. you are one of my favorite artists for your smooth and organic lines. is your style of line work something you've developed unintentionally over time or is it a matter of intention and technique? ive noticed you're able to do a lot with very little, which is something i strive for in my own art. happy late easter if you celebrated btw

oh this is an interesting question! I've never really stopped to think about this before.

I think it's a bit of both, but mostly unintentional and developed over time as a characteristic of the way I prefer to draw.

I draw quickly, erase minimally, like continuous lines, and enjoy the actual physical feeling of drawing messy, and I think that's helped me be more confident in my lines in general and contributes to how it looks. Being precise and accurate is usually not my goal, so it's ok if something is off (please never flip my sketches haha). I like the way drawing like this feels.

But there are also a lot of styles I love that use fluid lines, like ukiyoe art and artists inspired by those same styles, or others' quick gestural drawings. Seeing those inspire me to stay loose, or not care about accuracy, simplify things, etc, and folding these concepts it into my work is intentional, because it loops back into enjoying the way it's done. I don't really have much advice or technique for how to achieve this deliberately because I guess I'm not really sure myself LOL but based on how I approach things myself, these are tips to try (which it looks like you're doing some already!):

draw with pen on paper. If you mess up just go with it, or try again from the beginning. Don't get hung up on erasing and fixing things, just keep drawing

practice speed, with timed gesture drawing or other methods of practice you're comfortable with; try it without picking up the pen

turning stabilization off while drawing digitally for a more natural line (entirely subjective, but stabilization trips me up so bad and feels weird)

draw from life. It can be random objects around the house, or random photos, but draw things you normally wouldn't - train your hand to follow your eye, as this will help you see the way you use line, and is an easy way to practice what kinds of lines you want without getting hung up on idea generation, or if the character looks right, expectations, etc.

It's okay to be impatient and lazy sometimes LOL. Sometimes doing the bare minimum helps you to learn where you want to simplify or stylize things. "Good enough" is also a pretty useful catchphrase sometimes

I hope something in this post helps! And sorry if it doesn't, I'm not very good at articulating my own art or thought processes.

Thank you for your kind words and for enjoying my work. happy late easter!

#asks #@ferninapot #text #faq #long

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delimeful · 18 days

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in sickness and in health (8)

warnings: captivity, arguing, remus talking about remus things, panic, gratuitous amount of puns, lmk if i missed any

“What’s going on?”

The impromptu staredown between all three humans was interrupted by Roman hurriedly leaning obnoxiously far over the counter, bodily blocking Patton’s view of the two borrowers.

“Patton!” he blurted, clearly aiming for a casual air and instead landing somewhere in the realm of ‘stewing in blatant panic and guilt’. “Hello there, what an unexpected and lovely surprise to see you here, in… the kitchen of your own home.”

Next to him, Virgil heard the small, distinct thwap of his fellow borrower’s palm meeting their face.

“…What’s going on?” Patton repeated, sounding far more awake this time.

“Extremely normal, non-fairy-related things,” Roman answered, visibly sweating.

“Extremely bloody Dionysian orgies,” Remus said at the same time, considerably louder.

Virgil could see just enough of Patton’s expression to watch the way it crinkled in a sort of morose confusion.

“In the kitchen?” he asked, voice pained, as though that was his main problem with the suggestion.

“If there aren’t any knives involved, can any orgy really be called Dionysian?” Remus replied in a faux-wise tone, lifting his arm to make a deeply inappropriate gesture in accompaniment with his words. This technically cleared the way back to the wall, but as it turned out, only for a moment.

Before either of them could get too hopeful about any chance of escape, Remus ended the gesture by quickly clapping his hands over the both of them in a makeshift dome shape.

Next to him, the other borrower only flinched a bit, but Virgil couldn’t help the outright squeak he made at the sudden limbs dropping down over them.

There was another pause from the humans above them, this one distinctly more harried.

“Um, guys?” Patton’s voice had gone from confused to concerned. “What was—?”

“Broken whoopee cushion,” Remus insisted. “Filled it with mayonnaise, you know how it goes.”

“He sneezed!” Roman added, his voice sliding up a few pitches. “Gesundheit, Remus! Totally nothing strange about that— Padre, wait!”

There were big steps drawing closer, now, and Remus’s hands cinched in a little tighter around the two of them. They were forced to huddle even closer together, and the other borrower’s bony elbow collided with his side in a way he wasn’t convinced was accidental.

He shot them a glare, which they returned with an expression that was equal parts indignant and frantic. After a second, they forced a barely-there whisper through grit teeth. “It’s your human. Will he hurt us?”

“How am I supposed to know?!” Virgil hissed back, just as quiet. “I didn’t ever get caught before you showed up!”

Not while the human was conscious enough to remember it, anyhow.

The other borrower’s eyes narrowed into slits, reminding Virgil that he probably shouldn’t be antagonizing the guy that already proved themself willing to try and murder him once. Before they could respond, though, the conversation over their heads continued.

“Guys,” Patton said, sounding stern. “What have we said about wrangling critters in my home?”

“That it was a firmly banned activity after the Great Frog Croak-tastrophe?” Roman guessed sheepishly. “And, y’know, that was certainly a fair and just ruling for that situation, however—!”

“Nuh-uh, I don’t wanna hear it,” Patton replied, unwavering. Virgil could practically envision the way his human was standing from his tone alone: hands on his hips, eyebrows raised expectantly. “Frog or not, I’m sure whatever you two caught will be much hoppier once they’re released safely outside, right Remus?”

“Eh, you might not feel the same after you see them, Pattycakes,” Remus warned. “I know I’m usually the harbinger of pests, wrangler of rats, champion of centipedes, but not even I know what to do about these guys.”

There was the shuffle of clothing, like Patton was shifting in place, and he sighed. “Well, I guess we’ll just have to figure it out together, huh?”

There was a moment of hesitation where Virgil assumed the twins were exchanging a wordless meaningful look, as they so often did, and then the distinct slide of glass across a countertop.

The moment the hands around them twitched, Virgil shifted into a crouched position, drawing his legs under him and preparing to bolt the moment there was space, even if it was probably totally futile. Next to him, he could feel the other borrower doing much the same.

Rather than lift off of them, however, the hands shifted to pinch even closer together, forming the shape of a spade, like a pair of nut shells that had been glued back together at the edges, leaving a hollow space inside. The two of them were forced to scramble upwards into the hold or get limbs stuck in between the sides of Remus’s palms as he scooped them up off the counter completely.

Virgil’s stomach dropped at the upwards movement, completely out of his control, and he reached out and latched onto the side of the other borrower’s shirt with a white-knuckled grip. They were still at least a little concussed, and Virgil wasn’t letting them get separated now, not when he’d already gotten himself into the most terrifying situation in his life saving them. Wherever they were going, they’d at least be stuck in it together.

To his surprise, the other borrower gripped him right back.

After only a few seconds, they were lowered and deposited onto a familiar smooth surface. Virgil grit his teeth at the feeling, resisting the urge to scream in frustration. He’d just gotten out of this stupid glass pitcher!

He didn’t get much time to seethe indignantly, however, because the moment Remus’s hands pulled away, there were much bigger problems to face.

Three of them, to be precise.

Heart in his throat, Virgil slowly lifted his head to look up at the face of his human, warped through the curve of the glass.

With a confused furrow to his brow, Patton moved to take a step closer, and then stopped short as the sight before him properly registered. His hand flew up to cover his mouth, his eyes widening with surprise. “Oh my!”

“I toad you so,” Remus interjected unhelpfully.

Roman cuffed his shoulder, and Remus immediately jabbed two fingers into Roman’s side in retaliation. It was only a firm warning look from Patton that kept them from devolving into another slap fight during the most terrifying moment of Virgil’s life.

Virgil shifted to stand, shuffling back until he didn’t have to crane his neck so painfully to make eye contact. Humans were so big, and it had never been more evident than it was now, staring up at giants.

Staring up at Patton. He was pretty sure he’d had a nightmare that had gone exactly like this. Well, minus the concussed would-be assassin. And the frog puns.

Patton, for his part, had developed a genuinely distressed twist to his features as he took in the sight of the two of them. After a moment of wavering, his gaze settled firmly on Virgil, sending a prickling sense of alarm up his spine.

“Hello again,” said Patton, smiling at him.

Virgil froze. The borrower behind him froze. Even the twins froze for a moment, before their heads both snapped around to stare at Patton with eerie synchronization.

“You know them?!” two voices asked, in two very different tones.

Virgil felt dread drop into his gut like a stone down a sewer grate. There was no way.

“I know one of them,” Patton answered, unperturbed by everyone’s shock. “That’s the little guy who helped take care of me while I was sick!”

He lifted a hand in demonstration and wiggled his fingers, the healing burns on them still visibly shiny.

The twins gaped. “He what?”

Behind him, in a far more bewildered tone, the other borrower echoed them: “You what?”

“You shut up,” Virgil muttered sourly without turning to look at them. His heart was practically shaking in his ribcage, knowing that the human had remembered all along, that Patton had returned home well-aware of the intruder in his walls.

The realization felt chilling, like a thimble of icy water had been dumped down his shirt. Patton hadn’t acted strange at all, hadn’t cast any speculative glances at the walls or scanned any shelves for undersized intruders. The twins and their ghost-hunting equipment clearly hadn’t known the truth, so why would Patton? Virgil hadn’t even suspected.

Who knew what would have happened after Roman and Remus left, and it was only the two of them, with Virgil blissfully unaware of the danger he was in?

Well. Caught like this, he supposed he was going to find out soon.

Patton’s smile faded, carefully watching the way Virgil’s chest was visibly shuddering with too-shallow breaths.

“You thought I froggot, huh?” he said, looking inexplicably sad. “I thought about it while I was in the hospital, and I kinda figured we’re really not supposed to know about you guys. That means it was pretty darn brave of you to try and help me anyways.”

Virgil swallowed, fear sticking in his throat. He didn’t know what to say. He certainly didn’t feel brave.

The other borrower stepped up to be at his side, ignoring Virgil’s reflexive attempt to shoulder them back behind him.

“I suppose the saying is true, then.” They paused, narrowing their eyes in a silent challenge. “No good deed goes unpunished.”

The encompassing flourish they made was a little wobbly, as though their balance was still off, but it got the point across: Patton had recovered from his illness, and they were stuck in a pitcher on his counter.

Virgil’s incredulity at the other borrower was enough to snap him out of the worst of his frozen terror, his head whipping to the side to stare at them.

They were insane. They had to be, using such sharp words and an even sharper tone with a human. This was just about the worst time to instigate an argument. The two of them were stuck in a pitcher on his counter!

Unsurprisingly, neither of the twins looked particularly happy with the accusatory turn the conversation had taken. Patton had been their friend for a long time. They had always jumped at the opportunity to defend him from harm in the past, and Virgil doubted that would change now.

For all their tomfoolery, the two of them could be downright vicious when they were angry. If they were willing to tear fellow humans a new one for messing with Patton, it was gruesome to imagine what they’d do to a pair of borrowers. They’d already been terrifying enough when they’d only been curious about him.

Before either of them could begin to speak, however, Patton nodded once, almost to himself, and pivoted to face his friends.

“Howsabout you two get started on cleaning up the living room so we can settle down and get some proper sleep?” he asked, the request firm enough that it was clearly more of an instruction than a suggestion.

Both twins started protesting immediately, looking extremely put out at the idea of abandoning Patton with their exciting new find. They were talking over each other, the words tangling and becoming an indecipherable mess by the time they reached Virgil, but he was fairly certain he heard phrases like “—but I’ll only lie awake haunted by fairy law and order,” and, “—you can’t keep me away from my new pyromaniac bestie!” in the mix.

“Mhmm, yup, we can discuss all of that later,” Patton replied stoutly, ushering the two of them towards the entrance to the kitchen with insistent sweeping gestures, like a shepherd with his herd. “There’ll be plenty of time to talk over breakfast in the morning, but it’s getting late, so hop to it!”

“We’re being banished with frog puns! This is an amphibian atrocity,” Roman bemoaned.

“Froggin’ unbelievable,” Remus agreed.

However, even with all their complaints, they seemed to understand that Patton wasn’t budging this time, and reluctantly allowed themselves to be shooed out of the kitchen like the world’s noisiest sheep.

At Virgil’s shoulder, the other borrower took the opportunity to lean in while the humans were across the room.

“You ‘didn’t ever get caught,’ hmm?” they asked, still far too smug considering the situation they were in.

A muscle in Virgil’s eye twitched. Despite everything, he wasted a moment considering the merits of trying to inflict another head injury on his fellow captive. They’d been a lot more tolerable with the beginnings of a concussion.

“Do you want to go back to trying to stab each other?” he snapped instead, stepping pointedly away even as he made the thinly-veiled threat. “Because it seems like you want to go back to trying to stab each other.”

“Oh, I’m so terrified,” they replied drolly, crossing their arms. “Won’t someone save me from the horrible Monoxide assassin and his entirely genuine threats?”

Virgil stared at them for a moment, disbelieving. “You know, I think I actually liked you better when you were trying to murder me in cold blood.”

“Don’t lose hope. Maybe I’ll try again later,” they retorted with a dangerous glint in their eye, and then they were both falling silent as Patton approached once more.

Out of the corner of his eye, Virgil caught the contemplative frown that flashed over the other borrower’s face, the only glimpse of their consternation at facing down a human. They may have had plans aplenty to deal with the twins, but Patton was clearly more of an unknown to them.

…Virgil knew Patton. He’d spent enough time watching the human to get attached, grown familiar enough with Patton’s life to cheer on his efforts and fret over his disappointments. He should be able to find the right words to get them out of this, convince his human the way the other borrower had effortlessly fooled Roman, but… he couldn’t.

It was impossible to think up a strategy for this situation. How could he possibly reconcile Patton, the guy who helped organize weekly PTA bake sales and volunteered to look after kittens he was allergic to and cried when he saw roadkill, with a human who knew, who would keep them trapped, who needed to be pleaded with for their release?

How was he supposed to bargain with a monster if he couldn’t even accept that the monster existed?

“I’m sorry if the twins frightened you,” Patton said, voice lowered to a softer volume. “They tend to be very exuberant, but they don’t mean any harm.”

The other borrower looked as though they were on the brink of scoffing at the very idea that they couldn’t handle Roman and Remus, a defensive slant to their shoulders.

“Why?” The word tumbled from Virgil’s mouth without his permission, his shoulders hunching under the undivided focus of Patton’s gaze.

“Why what?” he asked, tilting his head slightly like a confused dog.

“If you knew,” Virgil forced out, fingernails digging into his palms, “why didn’t you tell them? Or— or look for me?”

Understanding settled onto Patton’s expression, and he hummed thoughtfully, as though considering how to phrase his answer.

“If you wanted to be seen, you would have come out and said hi,” he finally said, simply. “You saved my life by calling for help. If you wanted to stay a secret, the least I could do is make sure to keep that secret safe.”

Virgil blinked up at him, trying to force the words into a configuration that made sense. Humans didn’t just let mysteries exist, especially not ones that were so easy to grab ahold of.

“I won’t lie and say I’m not awfully curious about you,” Patton continued, and his hand was reaching out for the handle of the pitcher and surely, this was the moment that it all came crashing down—, “but you can’t force a friendship. Especially not like this!”

Slowly, in gentle increments, the pitcher was shifted to lay on its side, the open end facing away from Patton. It was practically a straight shot to the closest wall entrance, their freedom waiting where the back of the counter met the kitchen wall.

They’d been prepared to make a break for it at the earliest opportunity before, but now, with escape dangled in front of them, both borrowers hesitated. Virgil exchanged a dumbfounded look with the other borrower, trying to stomp down the insane hope bubbling in the back of his mind.

“If you ever want to talk, you know where to find me!” Patton finished, making sure the glass was stable and settled before releasing it and stepping back. “Otherwise, my lips are sealed— and I’ll make sure Roman and Remus keep the secret, too.”

He made a zipping motion over his mouth, eyes crinkled with amusement at the edges, and then turned and walked out of the kitchen without a single glance back.

Virgil hadn’t uttered a single plea, and yet, the path back to the walls was right there. He looped the other borrower’s arm over his shoulder and led them, step by faltering step, across the counter, even scooping his bag up as he went. Nobody came rushing in, nobody stopped them from taking those last few steps into the safety of the walls.

He’d expected to face a monster, and instead he’d been offered kindness, unasked for and freely given.

They were both quiet as they shuffled further into the familiar cramped space, as though a single sound would shatter the illusion of this impossible release. The other borrower pulled away after a moment, their pain of their concussion likely more manageable in the dark. The silence stretched, relief and exhaustion weighing on them in equal measure.

Virgil yawned despite himself, absently wondering if they were going to continue that semi-murderous argument about cults and who wronged who, and if the other borrower would be willing to reschedule it to sometime after they’d slept.

Ahead of them, a third figure stepped out of the shadows, quickly looking them over as though checking that everyone was still intact. Oddly enough, they sort of smelled like gunpowder.

“Hm. That certainly didn’t go according to plan,” they said bluntly, the oversized pack on their back jingling slightly as they stepped forward. “Still, we all survived, so I suppose introductions are in order.”

#sanders sides fic #sanders sides g/t #ts virgil #ts janus #ts remus #ts roman #ts patton #isaih #in sickness and in health #my writing #writing #due to real life issues i'm switching update schedule to twice a month #hopefully

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petersbaby · 1 year

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I’m kinda fucked up rn, I’m posting this anyways because I know my Gareth girlies are out there and I love you guys

7 minutes to forever - Gareth Emerson x Reader

HE IS AGED UP TO 18

Warnings: Gareth is a virgin, boner talk, male masturbation, smut, first time sex, mutual pining, awkwardness, I don’t like talking about condoms they gross me out but I tried to use one for once

It was a small party of sorts at Steve’s house, and of course Eddie was going to be there because that’s his boyfriend.

Eddie tried to invite all the people from the club, so his friends can meet Steve and Steve’s friends, hoping everyone could kind of merge and coexist but you and Gareth were the only two to show up out of the group.

The rest were just a few of Steve and Eddie’s mutual friends, including Robin. Lately, Eddie’s been on your ass about a certain something and he sees it as some sort of sign that you and Gareth both came.

“It’s been way too long. Just go fucking tell him.” Eddie begs you.

“Tell him fucking what, exactly??”

“That you literally want to fuck him. Have you seen this dude? Zero chance he’ll reject you. He’s such a virgin he’d probably cream his pants just from you speaking to him.”

“Eddie, EW.”

“I’m just saying.”

“That’s just it, I don’t wanna like… fucking corrupt him.”

“He wants you to corrupt him.”

“What??”

“Yep.” He shrugs. “He wants you too, it’s so PAINFULLY obvious to everyone except you guys. We’re all tired of hearing about it.” He gestures to the rest of your shared friends.

“No, I- I don’t believe you. He doesn’t like me, that’s why I haven’t fucking said anything.” You whisper, now.

“Alright.” Eddie announces a little louder than he needs to be, and gets up. He grabs your wrist and starts pulling you.

“No, no, no. Eddie, stop, I’m so serious.”

And now you were standing in front of him.

“Gareth, here. Talk to her.”

You start to try and run the other way, away from this confrontational situation, but Eddie catches you.

“Jesus Christ, it’s like taking care of literal children. If you won’t say it, I will. Y/N, Gareth has a huge crush on you. Gareth, Y/N is practically obsessed with you, won’t shut up about how cute you are.”

You put your head in your hands.

“There, I said it, now be normal human beings.” He says, patting you both on the shoulder and walking away, leaving just the two of you standing near the kitchen while everyone else was in the living room, in another world.

“I’m sorry. About him, uh, yeah. I don’t know why he did that.” You say quietly, looking at the ground.

“Was that true?”

“Maybe.”

“That’s a relief. I don’t think either of us were gonna say something.”

“Yeah, probably not.” You laugh.

“Okay, so we’re locked in here.” You sigh.

“Yeah..” he agrees.

Eddie basically shoved you two into a hall closet, yelling about “seven minutes in heaven,” which was a stupid game thing you thought only middle schoolers did. You protested, but he was very insistent, and you gave up. He was just fucking with you two, being extra mischievous tonight for some reason.

“You know you don’t have to listen to him, right? You don’t need to do anything, you know, sexually. It’s perfectly fine to not want to.”

“I- well, I want to.”

“Why don’t you then?”

“Don’t know. Nervous, I guess. Just really nervous.”

“Would it help if I made the first move?”

He nods.

You lean in quickly after that to press your lips against his. Even though he knew it was coming, it still shocked him, enough to jump a little a draw back.

“No? It’s okay.” You try to reassure him despite all the mixed signals you were getting from this boy.

“Yes. Please. I’m sorry about that.”

“You do it then. I know you can.” You smile.

This time he leans in, despite his anxiety screaming in his brain. It’s sweet, so sweet, and his lips are soft and gentle. You reach up to rest your hand on the side of his face, lightly rubbing your thumb against his cheek while you kiss him.

His hands find your waist and rest there while you try to let him lead so you don’t overwhelm him. But soon, he suddenly pushes you against the wall. Not too rough but not as gentle as he had been, but you liked it either way, draping your arms over his shoulders.

This was something you’d always wanted, to kiss him, and you never thought it would happen in a million years. You thought he probably thought of you as just one of the guys, but apparently he didn’t. He adored you, but he’d never say that to you out loud.

You make out with him to the point you almost can’t breathe but couldn’t bare breaking the kiss to get air. You fingers tangled in his soft, curly hair, accidentally pulling it a little forgetting that to some people that just hurts. He didn’t say anything, though, and you just continued running your fingers through his locks at the back of his head.

“Seven minutes are up!!” Eddie calls, walking towards the closet to free you.

“Shit, um..” Gareth looks down, which was a mistake because it made you look down too.

“Oh.”

He got a boner just from kissing you, but now that your time is up, he doesn’t know what to do.

“Sorry.” You whispered.

“It’s not your fault.” He laughed a little.

“So, what’d you two get up to in here?” Eddie asks, after swinging the door open. Gareth moves quickly past him and into the bathroom as swiftly as he can.

“You can’t just put people in closets, Eddie.”

“I did, though, so yeah. I can. Please tell me you at least kissed.”

“That is SO none of your business.”

“I’ll take that as a yes. Finally.” He exclaims the last word. You walk back with him to where everyone was gathered in the living room and once you sat down, you started daydreaming about what Gareth’s doing in there. You know what he’s doing, realistically, but you couldn’t stop imagining it.

In the bathroom, he stands in front of the sink with his dick in his hand, desperately fucking his fist just needing to get this out of his system. Instead of having to see his reflection in the mirror in front of him, he shut his eyes and thought of you.

God, all the things he wanted to do with you, to do to you. But just then, the way you kissed him deep, the way your fingers tangled in and pulled on his hair, the way he had you up against the wall. He finishes quickly thanks to these thoughts and mental images, release spurting out into the sink and the last bit of it dripping onto his hand.

He tries to catch his breath, washing his hands and cleaning up his mess, then looked at himself. He fixed his hair to look as normal as possible, cooled off, and went back to join everyone.

“Where the hell have you been?” Steve asks, only just noticing the boy’s absence.

“I had to use the bathroom, okay?” He answers defensively.

“Okay, jeez.” Steve said, raising his hands.

Gareth finds that his previous seat had been taken, and looks around nervously. You lock eyes with him and pat the place beside you on the couch. He smiles shyly and comes to sit.

As you all watched the movie, and no one was paying attention, you grabbed his hand and held it in yours, scooting closer. You leaned your head to rest on his shoulder, and he smiled secretly.

He made you feel all warm and happy on the inside, just like the perfect boy. That night really solidified your feelings for him, and you hope it did to him too. You thought about him a lot. Were you on his mind too?

Well, maybe tonight you could find out. DND was done and a couple of people were going back to Eddie’s for some beers or whatever alcohol his uncle had around. It was a Friday, after all.

When you got dropped off, it looked like everyone was already there. That meant he was too. He didn’t have a car, so he had to have ridden with somebody. Why did you have butterflies in your stomach at the thought of going into Eddie’s trailer? Since when is that a big deal?

You pushed it aside, the nervousness, and stepped in anyway.

“HEY, look who’s here. Thought you weren’t coming for a while there.” Eddie says.

“Sorry, I had to go home and change and everything, you know..”

“Alright, so… drinks. We’ve got two options. You ready?”

“So excited.” You say sarcastically.

“Beer or vodka.”

“Oh, god. Terrible. They’re both terrible. A beer, I guess.”

He laughs and gets you one. You head into the living room again where everyone is, taking a sip of the shitty and not very cold beer.

The couch is full so you take a seat on the floor, it looked like they were all passing a joint around. When it comes to you, you decline, giving it to the next person. The next person was Gareth, who also declined.

“You guys are total losers.” Eddie said, calling you out for not participating.

“I’m not a loser, I just don’t wanna be high.” Gareth says defensively.

“Yeah, me neither. Realistically, I don’t even want this beer. It’s gross, Eddie.”

“Well when none of us are 21 yet, you take what you can get.”

“I’m tired of sitting on the floor. Can me and Gare go hang out in your room?”

“Go have fun, you crazy kids. We’ll be in here, watching TV and talking VERY loudly.” Eddie wiggles his eyebrows at you.

“Whatever.” You roll your eyes, walking back to Eddie’s bedroom while Gareth follows and shuts the door behind him.

“Listen, I’m not trying to push anything on you. I didn’t want time alone to do that stuff, I just wanted to spend time with you.” You say, sitting down on the bed.

“Yeah, okay. I wanna spend time with you too.” He laughs. So cute.

“Cuddle?”

He laughs, blushing a little. “Sure.”

You lay down together, becoming intertwined, resting your head on his chest. You stay that way for a while, you could’ve stayed that way forever.

“Hey,” he says after about 15 minutes, and you lift up, resting on your elbow.

“Hm?”

“Can I kiss you again?”

“Of course.”

His lips come to meet yours and they melt together, and suddenly so do your bodies. They press against each other, radiating heat and warmth. He wants more, he wants more so bad, but he doesn’t want to push it and he also just doesn’t know how to ask. His hand is on your waist again, hovering slightly.

“Could I- would it be okay if-“ he starts.

“Gareth?”

“Yeah?” He asks anxiously.

“You can do literally whatever you want to me.” You assure him.

“Jesus Christ.”

Immediately hard as a rock, immediately entranced. It was true, in your defense, you liked him *so* much,

“I mean it.” You whisper.

His hand starts to move, ending up on your ass, squeezing tightly. It also pulled you impossibly closer to him, bodies pressed together. You put your hand on his face again, holding it sweetly but firmly while you kiss.

Your tongues explored each other’s mouths again, more familiar this time, and his hand moves up to squeeze one of your tits while the other arm props him up on his side. He needed more than this, he needed to feel your skin.

He slipped his hand into your sweater from the bottom, moving up until he felt your bare breast which he wasn’t fully expecting. He thought you were wearing something, anything underneath but you weren’t.

His cool fingers run over your hard nipples, making you gasp a bit, and so he goes farther and pinches one of them which makes you squeak in surprise. He just continued to feel your torso, hands running all over your stomach and chest and hips and tits.

You reached for the bottom hem of the sweater and pulled it off over your head, letting him be able to see what he’s doing, and his eyes grew wide as saucers. His eyes wandered shamelessly, curiously, all over, nearly burning a hole in you.

“You… you like them?” You ask, giggling a little bit. He was so beyond fascinated and you could see that.

“Yes, holy shit, yes.” He responds almost under his breath.

“Gare?”

“Hm?”

You take some of his soft locks in your hand and guide him down, wanting him to try sucking on or licking your nipples. He does, latching on quickly, expertly.

You start to melt now, holding onto his hair while you moan quietly. He climbs on top of you and brings his mouth to the other nipple, giving it the same attention. He gets the idea to move up to your neck, and starts kissing there.

This is where you totally fall apart, your weakness. Your noises encourage him to kiss your neck with more passion and fervor and you can feel his erection pressed against your thigh.

You reach down to grab onto it, palm it, and he sucks a particularly harsh mark onto your neck in the sweet spot when you do. You’ll definitely have a bruise, but you don’t mind at all.

“Fuck,” he breathes into your shoulder, stopped for a moment.

“You okay?” You check in, pushing him up so you can look him in the eyes.

“Think I’m just… god, I’m nervous. That’s so embarrassing.”

“No, that’s okay.” You reassure. “What do you want?”

He burns red. He’s not gonna be able to say it out loud himself.

“Do you want to have sex? Be honest.”

“Yes.”

“Good, because I do too. But Gare, we can stop at any moment. Just tell me, okay?”

“Okay.” He breathes.

You reach down to untie the strings on the waistband of your sweatpants and pull them off your body, leaving you in pink panties in front of him.

You feel him staring again, at the sight of you anxiously squeezing your legs together and waiting for him to make the next move.

You were so turned on it was unbelievable, with him have not even touched you there yet. You were sure you were soaking. He fumbles with his button and zipper, looking behind him.

“Yes, the door’s locked.”

“Oh. Good.” He half-laughed, because that is indeed what he was checking for. He takes his pants off and climbs back on top of you, only in his t shirt and boxers now.

He slots himself between your legs after you happily spread them for him. You could feel his cock so much better now, rock solid and a really nice size. He ruts his hips up against you, only the barriers of your respective underwear blocking the way.

He buries his face between your shoulder and neck, kissing on it again, and his hard cock continually presses against your cunt. You accidentally moan, a moan too loud for the situation, but you just have to hope no one heard it because you couldn’t help it.

“Shh,” he soothes, covering your mouth with his.

“Sorry,” you whisper, into the kiss, smiling. You can feel him smiling too.

“Should- can- what should we…”

“It’s up to you, remember? Whatever you want, however you wanna do it.” You remind him, trying to give him some confidence.

“Right. Can I take these off, then?” He asks, slipping his finger into the waistband of your panties.

“Yes, please do.”

You didn’t want to come off as desperate and impatient, but you were growing to be. It wasn’t his fault, though, you had to remind yourself he’s never done this before. He does, pulling the fabric down your legs and leaving you bare. Quickly after that, he pulls his own underwear off.

“I’m really wet, so whenever you’re ready, I’m ready.”

“Oh, shit, okay. Wait, don’t we need a condom?”

“Eddie should have some, if you want.”

You didn’t need one, being on birth control, but you wanted to do whatever made him more comfortable. He digs around in the nightstand and quickly finds some, taking one and putting it on.

“Okay.” He repeats, finally ready. You smile as if to tell him ‘go ahead’. You immediately learn that he isn’t familiar with easing into it, as he fills you up completely right away. This made you gasp, but luckily not too loud.

“Ohh, fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He groans.

“So good, you feel so good. Start moving, baby boy.”

That slipped out. That did slip out but he did not seem to mind the pet name at all, only listening to what you said and starting to thrust in and out.

You bite down on your bottom lip to keep quiet, only letting whimpers and soft moans out every now and then. You looked him in the eyes longingly, even though he was right there, and you felt yourself starting to love him in that moment.

He lets his dominant hand roam up to your throat, only to rest there. Thinking. You nod, reading his mind, answering his silent question and he squeezes gently. Soft but intoxicating. He continues to choke you with his big hand wrapped around your neck and leans down to kiss you again.

He finds a rhythm he likes, and starts to fuck you with more confidence. He wasn’t the biggest you’d ever had, but he still stretched you out and reached pretty deep inside.

Amazingly full of him, you still keep your noises quiet as much as you can. You couldn’t believe it, Gareth, you and Gareth were having sex. If the you from a month ago heard that, she would say “no fucking way.” But here you were. He wasn’t being super vocal, so you only hoped he felt good too. Damn, it would be nice to hear him though.

“Still okay?” You ask.

“The best.” He replies, and you smile.

He moves his hand from your throat back to fondling your breast, other one holding up his body weight over you.

He ends up getting quite aggressive while chasing his high, slamming into you quickly and filling the room with the sounds of sex. You think back to what Eddie said about watching TV and talking loudly and you stop worrying about that.

You were close, walls fluttering around him, but you knew you most likely wouldn’t get to finish. You’d just do it yourself later when you got home. The memory of this will be more than enough to masturbate to for a really long time, you think.

Coincidentally, he starts getting sloppy, thrusting haphazardly and clearly searching for something. Determined, he soon found it, cock twitching inside of you as he filled the condom and let out a long string of curse words and groans when he came.

He once again leant forward, resting his head on your shoulder for a moment. Neither of you wanted to move, and the pressure of him on top of you was so comforting, but eventually he had to.

Once all was done, you lay together, just as you had started out.

“Do you… like, actually like me?” He asks, head turning to you.

“No shit, Gareth. Yes, I like you.” You say sarcastically. You hope it didn’t come out mean. Thankfully it didn’t, because he laughed.

“So, you can totally tell me to fuck off if this is stupid, but… do you want to be together? You and me? Or is that stupid-“

You shut him up with a kiss, because he would’ve rambled on forever and you already had the answer.

“Yes. I’d like that.” You smile.

“Oh, okay. Cool, cool.” He laughs, feeling a huge weight off his shoulders. You melt into his arms, but you get interrupted when he suddenly realizes something.

“Oh, shit. I’m terrible.” He says, out of nowhere.

“You are not. Why?”

“You were supposed to… finish….too. You didn’t- I did something wrong.” He says, covering his face with his hands.

“I don’t care about that. It’s okay, I promise. If it bothers you that much, you can next time. I’ll help you.”

“Next time…” he repeats idly.

“Yeah? I just kinda assumed there’d be a next time..”

“Yes. No, you’re right, there will be. I just liked the sound of that.”

#gareth emerson x reader #gareth x reader #gareth smut #gareth emerson imagine #gareth emerson x y/n #gareth emerson smut #gareth the great #gareth stranger things #gareth emerson #gareth emerson fanfic #stranger things smut

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marilynthornhilllover · 2 months

Text

Just a little bit Colder

Mean!Vanessa shelly x fem!Reader

Warning: smut, bathroom sex, use of vibrator, clitoral play, cunniligus ( literally 2 licks) , enemies to lovers, hate sex, degradation at the finest, slight praise kink, mommy kink, sucking of nipples, choking and slapping kink, smoking of cigarettes, pet names, age gap, slight spanking, hair pulling, mean vanessa, orgasm denial, naive reader etc the list terribly goes on.

You and Mike had been friends for quite some time. The both of you first met eachother at a Cafe that you once worked at, one morning abby his younger sister was having a little tantrum because Mike didn't want to buy her Lemon donuts, being the generous person that you were you offered to purchase them for her out of your pocket money.

Obviously Mike refused, thanking you for the kind gesture but the little girl just wouldn't stop fussing. About one decade or eternity later she left him with no other option than to take up your offer. The both of you exchange numbers and they left the Cafe.

Now that was about two months ago. You never heard back from Mike. Not that you wanted too. It's just a little small conversation would be nice. You brushed it off as nothing and carried on with your life. Mike was not your type to begin with and the both of you were the same age, and you had a thing for older people.

You were at your friends house for her brother birthday party when you heard a notification from your phone. You glanced at the screen to see a pop up message from Mike.

It read : sorry to ask such a big favor of you so late, especially how we don't really know eachother quite well, but guessing by the gesture you made the other day I hope your a kind person. Would you mind watching my little sister tomorrow at 7am, I have a little mission at the station and it's gonna take all day and I don't wanna leave her home unattended.... please?

You sighed gently before pushing your phone back into your pocket. It's not that you didn't want to, or that you had a problem with babysitting his little sister, the poor guy just needs a hand. But there's no way your gonna get up at 7 am in the morning just to watch some dudes sister for the entire day.

You had other things to do and places to be. You tried your best to enjoy the rest of the night but your phone just kept going off, drawing your friends attention to you.

" who's messaging you so much y/n" asked one of your close friend ava. You flashed her a annoyed face before pulling out your phone from your back pocket. Again a pop up message read.

" please, I'll even pay you if you'd like"

You groaned softly before typing out a quick response.

" I'll think about it and message you in the morning, I'm busy right now, just like you I also have a busy life" if it sounded harsh then that's because you intended it to sound harsh. You pushed your friend playfully back into the party mood as the both of you danced your souls away for the rest of the night.

After you got home you undressed and took a quick shower. As you were doing your skincare routine your phone dinged again. You huffed glancing down at what he had to say this time.

" 300$ and I'll add a 50 if I'm late after work, it's your time really and I'd appreciate it" you sighed, at this point you gaved in. Once more you texted a quick reply before entering your room to dry off.

" I'll be there as early as I can *smilie face emoji* ".

The next morning you groaned as the sun light kissed you from behind the curtains. sighing you took a slight glance at your alarm clock.

9: 45 A.M

You practically flew from your bed, your duvet quickly being abandoned on the floor. You checked your phone to see four missed calls from Mike and three pop up messages asking where you were and if your still on. You mutter shit over and over again before dashing into the shower. After getting ready you tried calling Mike but there were zero response.

It's either he turned off his phone or he blocked your number.

You checked your chat to see if he had sent you his location before quickly driving over to his place.

You pulled up in his driveway and parked your car. You fixed your hair and lip gloss before walking up to the door and knocking gently. Your mind wondered off as you tried to come up with excuses to tell Mike as to why you were late, or after all his car wasn't in the driveway so you diverted your mind to ways in which you can try trick a little girl into thinking you weren't a completely bad person for showing up late.

You were snapped out of your trance when the door flew open. You averted your eyes to the person infront of you. Standing infront of you was a very, very good looking blonde hair lady dressed in police clothes. She was a slight dirty blonde, crystal blue eyes and a nice fucking body shape. Her facial expression however spoke for itself.... it wasn't as pleasant as she seem to appear.

" yes?" Her voice was warm, welcoming, yet so cold and bitter as if she was someones old grummy grandfather who already accepted his fate and wanted to go out to this world. Your words got caught in your throat as you took a step back away from her. It's as if all of the air was pushed out of your lungs.

You didn't want to be viewed as some creep so you quickly answered.

" um, i- uh I'm here for abby" you spoke, looking behind her to see the young girl on the sofa with another young girl playing with dolls and stuff animals. You gaze went back to the blonde woman infront of you when she stepped down onto the step below you and closed the door. At this rate she was just centimeters away from your lips.

You could feel her hot breath tickle the hairs on your neck as she loomed over you by perhaps two inches.

" you better explain yourself properly young lady before I arrest you, for trespassing and attempt of kidnap of a minor" she spoke, her hand reaching for her gun slightly. You'd be lying if you said she didn't look hot right now. A slight hair strand blowing in her face, eyebrows stressed together and lips perched together closely.

" trespassing? Fucking kidnap? Who are you judge judy? Look Mike had asked me last night if I could watch Abby for him today, I woke up late and he's not answering his phone, I don't know what hero your try'na play, or who you are but you need to chill, it doesn't suit you" the woman's expression changed by the Slightest with her lip curving into a thin smirk but it didn't soften.

She stepped back up on the door step and pulled out her phone, she dialed some numbers before the Phone began ringing. She eyed you suspiciously before Turning around just as the person picked up.

" hi, yeah mike- no nothings wrong abbys fine. Look there's some girl at your door, claiming" she air quotes the word before sneaking a sheer glance at you before turing back around. " that she's here to babysit Abby" she pauses for a moment while nodding before hanging up. She opens the door and turns her body side ways for you to enter.

Her eyes undressed your body and your choice of clothing as you entered. Just before you could step foot over the line of the door, her hand grapped your stomach and brought you close towards her chest.

" did you forget the occasion or were you originally planning to go to a strip club for some extra cash?" She asked, again you couldn't breathe. She was toxic, like a drug. Her scent was luring. It's like everything about this woman was a trap. She's to good to be true. You removed her hand from your stomach noticing that her hands are vainy. You gulped as you tried your best to suppress the moan that was itching to be realesed from your throat.

You waved at abby and her friend as they made their way inside of Abbys room to continue playing with their dolls. You turned around to look at the woman slowly sipping her coffee as she stared at you intensely. You cringed as you placed both your hands on your hips.

You averted your gaze away from hers, looking around the house you noticed that it wasn't bad. It was quite very modern and slightly fancy, it was small but the coziness of it definitely won over that speculation. You turned back around and to your surprise the blondie was smoking, you sighed as walked up to her. Her eyes immediately locked on yours, so hooded and lingering, filled with what seems to be lust and desire.

" look little girl, if your here to annoy me, just go home, I mean your presence isn't even needed here, abby has me. She surely doesn't need a slut to take care of her i mean come on-" you zoned out, your face showing pure disbelief as you felt utter disrespect. What did she just call you?.... you felt your body shake with rage as your jaw tensed. You were the type of person to have watery eyes when you were angry.

You looked at her badge and saw her name.

" how about you go fuck yourself vanessa, mhm how about that. And who are you to call me a fucking slut? Atleast you've never fucked me. You know what I'll leave and make sure you explain in perfect detail to mike why I left, you little shit" you stormed into the bathroom in a way of trying to calm your nerves.

After some time the door to the bathroom opened and closed. You looked into the mirror only to make eye contact with Vanessa. Before either of you could utter a word to eachother she grabbed your hair from behind forcing you to arch your back as her chest pressed against your back.

You let out a soft whimper looking up at her through the mirror, teary-eyed. Her eyes were dark and sultry as they bore into your soul setting you on fire. She brought her lips close to your ear and her tongue gently licked your earlobe before pulling it into her mouth and sucking on it before her hand that wasn't occupied in your hair travled down your body.

" vanny please-" at this point you could feel as your moral side betray you. your mind went completely fuzzy, your body yearned for her touch, her touch, the touch of the devil herself.

" begging already sweetie, thought you told me to go fuck myself, now you want mommy to fuck you? Is that it?" She asked tugging on your hair harshly, you moaned as your eyes rolled back slightly when her cold finger tips brushed against your clothed cunt.

" so desperate for mommy.... I asked a question slut, do you want me to fuck you" her tone was harsh and demanding as she spanked your ass before rubbing it slightly after you cried out. Making eye contact with her again you noticed she had something in the pocket of her police vest. Something rather bulged and purple colored.

You breath hitched as you groaned in desperation rubbing your thighs together for relief. Upon noticing this vanessa smiled before spanking you again which naturally caused you to reopen your legs, giving her the perfect access needed to get to your cunt. She used her hands to pull down your tank top exposing your breast to her as your nipples erected from the temperature in the room.

You turned your body around swiftly connecting your lips with hers in a heated kiss, as if the bathroom wasn't humid already. Vanessa smirked against your lips as she listened to the whiny sounds you made in attempt to get up onto the counter. She tapped your legs, a way of telling you to jump in which you did before she gently placed you onto the counter.

She pulled away from the kiss leaving a small bridge of saliva from your mouth back to hers. She hitched your skirt up around your abdomen, eyes flicking back up to yours. She watched as you nodded and bit your bottom lip before she proceeded to kneel.

Her tongue ran over the areas of your inner thighs causing you to slightly shiver, your head falling back against the mirror. She smirked before grabbing the hemming of your lace panties - God you really came prepared for her to fuck you. She pulled your panties to the side while still maintaining her mission on leaving only marks for her to see inside of your thighs.

The cold air on your cunt was driving you crazy, you needed her so unbelievably bad, you've had sex with other women but none has come close to making you feel how vanessa is currently making you feel - as if you were floating to a place far, far away where the two of you would be able to fuck forever.

Your fingers intertwined in her golden locks, pulling her face towards your cunt but vanessa was quick, she immediately pulled alway before coming face to face with you. Her eyes were lidded and not a sheer piece of mercy was evident in them. Her gaze dropped to your breast before returning to your eyes.

Again with that Goddam smirk. You gasped as she latched her mouth onto your left nipple, your head fell back as your eyes closed in utter pleasure. You felt as her cold finger tips wonder down your belly, mound then slowly as they crept all the way down to your slit before sandwiching two fingers into your slit as slightly stretched your hole without thrusting her fingers into you.

" oh god- fuck- vanessa please" your moan was soft and breathy as it almost came out as a whisper or a plea. Vanessa's tongue continued to suck horrendously on your small bud as her tongue swirled and poked at it now and then. She chuckled darkly feeling your hips lift in attempt to reach or receive some sort of friction or pleasesure.

" such a good girl mommy" she muttered before releasing your bud with a small ' pop' sound. She gaved you a sinister look before her finger tip began to rub tight , fast circles around your clit. Again your head fell back, grabbing her biceps your back arched off the counter slightly as you lost all control to your moral self, every single ounce of self respect that was left in you.

Vanessa now owned you and your mind, you were now hers.

She could feel as your pussy covered her finger in a new layer of wetness. She watched as your thighs trembled slightly. She gazed up at you but your eyes were already focused on her slender fingers rubbing big circles on your puffy bud. Your skin was drenched in sweat as your chest rised and fell with every breath you took. Feeling your oragsm quickly approaching.

An idea popped into her head and she immediately followed suit. She wanted to see, really how far you'd go for her. She stopped fingering your clit and slid that same finger down to your aching hole before teasing you by circling around it very, very slowly almost not even moving at all.

She chuckled as she felt you clench around nothing.

" Pleasepleaseplease" you whispered as a prayer. She leaned down towards your neck, slowly leaving open mouthed kisses down your drenched skin and your collarbone, causing you to shiver. It's safe to say that you were an absolute raging needy whore for her and only her.

Her hot breath tortured your neck as she spoke up" what do you want my love? Use your words" she husked, her voice deep and husky, slowly draining you of all you sanity. Suddenly you felt as she thrusted two fingers into your cunt, curling her fingers at the right spot as your gummy walls clamped down on her fingers, greedily begging her to stay.

You eyes rolled back as you let out a pornographic moan. Again she removed her fingers from you hole causing you to sigh in utter frustration. At this point you were getting fed up, you wanted what you wanted and she wasn't giving you what she said she'd provide.

" fuck! Would you just fuck me already bitch!" You realized what had just come out of your mouth when vanessa entire face went dark. Her pupils completely delayed. You couldn't read her expressions or even break down what could possibly be thinking. You've never regretted anything in your life more than this moment.

"I'm sor-" before you could finish your sentence you felt a hot stink across your cheek. You turned to look at vanessa, shocked. Did she just... slap you..... you'd probably slap her back but God it just made you get wetter.

" do it again" Vanessa's eyebrow quirked as a slight curve appeared on her lips but just as fast as it appeared it disappeared. Her hand came down again on your cheek causing you to whimper. You felt as her hand gripped your neck in a rather harsh manner. She brought your face closer to hers, lips inches around.

This woman would be the death of you.

Not only was she older by twelve years, she's blonde, has blue eyes, a hot cop and she's rough.

Her hands squeezed your cheeks, snapping you out of your trance. You definitely ignited something mysterious within her, another side that you were longing to see. To feel .

" do not fuck with me little girl. I will fuck you up" her voice crack a little and you tried - you really tried with every cell in your body not to laugh but just your human. Vanessa tightened her grip around your neck and slammed your head against the mirror causing you to moan.

" you take me for a joke? That's what it is? I'll show you the real joke" although you had no clue what she meant you had the perfect idea what she was referring too. Vanessa got up and unzipped her pocket, she pulled out a small shiny pink circle looking object before kneeling again. You felt as her tongue flicked up and down your slit twice before the small object slipped into you.

" get dressed" she demanded and you just compiled. After fixing your clothing as best as possible. you exited after her to find abby and her friend eating Mac and cheese and Mike standing in the kitchen making bacon and grilled cheese sandwich. You froze.

Vanessa was already sitting at the dinner table smoking a cigarette as if nothing had just happened. When she looked eyes on you she immediately averted them back towards mike. She cleared her throat mike turned around to face Vanessa before glancing up at you. He smiled softly.

" hi y/n! So glad you made it, I trust that you two have been getting along?" You nodded and he smiled before glancing over at vanessa who was breathing smoke through her nose, eyes fixed on you, making you shiver as you quickly look away. She left you so needy and destroyed begging for her mercy.

Poor Mike, only if he knew what went down in his bathroom. The sinful Arora he would smell if he were to enter it now. The sweat of the counter, fog on the glass. The smell of sex would haunt him forever.

" I know how...well... unreasonable vanessa can be at time, anyway I came home early for lunch so I thought I'd make us some, wanna stay for some?" He asked and that's when you felt it. The vibrations, the intense shocking in your vagina. You grabbed onto the counter as you let out a small mouth which you covered up as a groan.

" sorry. Its just Cramps. girl stuff" Mike nodded in understanding.

" let me get you my mom's old hot water and jel compress" he said before he left to go into the bedroom. You felt Vanessa's piercing gaze. Gazing over at her you both locked together in a trance. She winked at you just as Mike returned. You thanked him and he went back to cooking.

Neither of you broke your gazes. You knew things were about to get heated as she secretly showed you her phone with the vibrators settings. Your chest continued to rise and fall as the ache between your legs only continued to grew. Vanessa shelly will be the death of you.

#fnaf vanny #vanessa shelly #five nights at freddy's #wlw fanfic #wlw smut #babysiter smut #marilynthornhilllover fanfics #wlw police office smut #Spotify

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luveline · 1 year

Note

Hey Jade! Just a request for the Steve Zombie AU (if you’d like!!! ♥️). What about a hurt/comfort before they reach the college where reader is having a really rough time and has a bit of a breakdown. Protective Stevie wanting to make things better but also being practical to like sort it out because they’re still on the road having to survive. Super “it’ll be okay. I’m gonna fix it!” vibes (because I just DIED when I read that line 🥹)

thank you for your request!! steve zombie!au ♥︎ fem!reader 1k

You’ve been inside of the apocalypse for so long that you can’t remember how long you’ve been inside of it. You’ve lost your family and friends, your life, your choices. You miss TV and movie theatres and frozen pizza, but more than anything, you miss how it felt to wake up rested.

You miss Saturday mornings with nowhere to go. How you’d wake and spread out over your warm sheets, look up into the dimpled ceiling of your bedroom and take a moment to follow dust motes dancing between beams of insistent, golden sunlight.

There’s no sunlight now. It’s raining hard, and you and Steve have nowhere to go. You’ve built the best tent that you’re able to build during such a sudden downpour, two sharp sticks and a tarp buckling under the weight. Every now and then Steve will reach up and slowly release the water that’s been up there, pushing his palm into the bump until it runs down the side of the tarp and away from you and your things.

You feel hopeless.

Steve must see the look on your face. He’s getting very good at knowing how you feel. Which is great when you’re feeling great — you barely have to hint for a kiss anymore when you want one — and unfortunate when you’re feeling down. He knows you’re prone to despair, and his knowing makes it worse. He’s in the exact same boat as you watching you come apart.

“Have my hand,” he says.

You try to focus on what he’s said. Not take my hand, but have my hand. He offers his right hand to you, his knuckles scratched from a stubborn wooden fence, and smooths his fingertips over your palm with a deliberate gentleness. He squeezes your fingers as they slot between his, and rubs the back of your hand with his thumb.

Things with Steve are good. You love him, though you won’t tell him that, and he has a deep affection for you at the very least. You don’t fuck, which had surprised you but isn’t disappointing — you’re almost always sweaty and you aren’t sure either of you are ready for that. But not fucking gives you a little more confidence in your relationship. He can’t be using you for sex if you don’t have sex. And besides, Steve isn’t the type to do that unless you wanted it too.

He doesn’t lie. You like that about him. You trust him to be honest in his intentions.

He doesn’t lie, and he doesn’t sugarcoat.

“I don’t know how long this will last,” he says. “The rain. We have to be careful. We need to stay dry, or it’s probably gonna kill us.”

“It’s just rain,” you say softly.

“It’s about staying warm.” He rubs the back of your hand.

"How do you know?"

"I don't. I'm guessing. I'm always guessing."

"What?"

Steve shuffles toward you. Tarp or not, the ground feels damp and cold beneath you, and he must feel it too as he draws closer. He wraps one of your arms up in his and tugs it under his armpit, an uncommon shape to hug you in but by no means weird. Your right shoulder pressed to his, his face inclined in the dimness so you can see his eyes clearly.

"I don't know what I'm doing, honey," he says, 'honey' said sweet as the real thing and just as smooth. He's trying to pull you back from the precipice of panic. "But that doesn't mean we won't be okay." He gestures to the rain. "I'll make it okay."

"How can you?" you ask.

His reassurance makes you cry. Tears well and fall, a cruel and burning lump takes station in your throat.

"We don't have enough to stay here and wait," you say, looking at his chest rather than his face.

"We'll make it enough. We have water, we have food for another four days. All we have to do is stay warm…" He grins at you. There's a hopefulness to his smile. "I can keep you warm."

Your laugh splutters through tears. His eyebrows wriggle over his forehead. When the laughing turns into sobbing he doesn't baulk, only pulls your face into his shoulder and crooks his arm behind your head. You cry with an ardency made up of raw-tipped fear.

"I don't wanna die here," you say.

Steve shushes you, hand rubbing a too-quick motion over your back. He holds you together for the hundredth time. "You're not dying here."

You're grateful he doesn't say, "Sweetheart, it's only rain." Because it isn't only rain that's hurting you tonight. It's everything. Everything but Steve.

"You think I'd let that happen? We're doing what we need to do. We stay dry, we wait for the rain to pass, and we keep going." He kisses the tip of your ear. You almost don't feel it. "I will drag you out of this damn forest with me. I'll carry you if I have to."

"You can't carry me, Harrington," you mumble.

"You're lucky it's raining. I can't carry you," he says, disbelieving. "Are you kidding?"

He starts to pull you up toward his chest. Steve is surprisingly strong considering he isn't too bulky, and your shoulders and back feel as if they're decompressing, shifting. You let your weight fall into him. He stops you from sliding down the length of his chest. You should know by now, Steve will always hold you up.

The rain abates sometime in the early hours. You and Steve roll up the tarp, drag it dripping wet through mud and leaf mulch to the highway, and you keep walking until you find a place to rest. You try to say sorry for breaking down. Steve won't hear it, but he does accept the apology kiss you offer, and he gives your cheek an aching squeeze.

#steve zombie!au #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction

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chogiwow · 10 months

Text

little things that matter | ot8

members: ot8

genre: fluff

wc: 0.7k+

a/n: intimate actions that you share with them (not nsfw, i'm just...i need a hug :'D)

chan - sleeping shirtless

you're both pretty big on skinship and intimacy and it's not always the sexual type. sleeping shirtless is like a big leap of faith in your relationship cause y'all are just that comfortable around each other. chan usually comes to bed later than you but he loves it when he puts his arm around your waist and feels your skin underneath. it's just? he's just so so happy and his heart swells in joy cause of how comfortable you are around him and trust him so much to be able to sleep like that. plus y'all really love the non sexual intimacy you can enjoy.

minho - letting you sit on his lap

think more along the lines of cradling a cat. minho isn't big on skinship, but he loves it when you climb into his lap, straddling him around the waist and put your arms around his neck, burying your face and nuzzling your nose. he holds you by the waist, albeit whining about it but never refuses your soft moments. will sit like that for as long as you want cause he's secretly a sucker for your hugs.

changbin - nuzzling into your neck and kissing

oh he loves to nuzzle his face against your neck, especially if you're ticklish! pressing soft kisses and resting his head against the warmth of your skin is his favourite thing to do. prolly lies down on top of you often, careful not to crush you with his weight tho, and rubs his cheek against yours. expect tight hugs all the time, he knows he’s built for it and he’s proving it every chance he gets ;-;

hyunjin - braiding and playing with your hair

this man right here knows how good it feels to have someone run their finger through your hair cause you do it all the time with him. it's natural for him to return the gesture to make you feel loved. loves it when your eyes get droopy and you abandon scrolling through your phone to turn to him and ask him to continue. braids and unbraids, twirls, playfully pulls at your hair just to see you whine and and laugh then prompt go back to playing with your hair.

han - hugging your arm

you're his personal throw pillow. he's always hugging you or your arm to sleep. it's like a safety blanket for him to feel your arm pressed up against his cheeks. he always needs to hug something to sleep, and your arm just so happens to meet his requirements. alternately, would love to be small spooned, curling up like a ball and burying his head against your chest or sometimes even stomach. you just make him feel so warm and safe.

felix - drawing on your skin

another one big on skinship. he's always hugging or cuddling with you. but one thing he loves doing is softly rubbing circles onto your waist or hands with his thumb. loves it when you both take turns drawing on each other's back or stomach and guessing what it was. man is also big on asmr, so probably dove a lot of face tracing, just running his finger over your nose and lips and cheeks to relax you.

seungmin - holding hands, tugging you close

okay, absolute sucker for hand holding. y'all prolly enjoying a lazy afternoon and he just quietly takes your hand in his and compares them. would grin if your hands are smaller than his. gives you small massages across your palm and wrist, maybe even kissing your hand once in a while. just the very act of having that physical presence sorta calms him down but he also knows that it’s not practical to yearn for it all the time? wouldn’t be overwhelmingly affectionate with you, like probably tugs you closer by pulling at the hem of your clothes and feeling that presence beside him is enough

jeongin - big spooning you

oh he loves to cradle you like a baby. especially if you're lying on the couch and space is a construct so you shrink into him, back pressing against his chest, legs clamped down by his and his arm around your waist. absolutely loves it tho when you turn around and press small feathery kisses across his chin and jaw. just feels so overwhelmingly warm when he has his arm around your shoulder in a hug with your body pressed against him when ya’ll nap.

#stray kids imagines #skz imagines #stray kids x you #skz x you #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #archive posts !

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jenanigans1207 · 15 days

Text

“What about angels?” Dean turns his gaze to Cas over the rim of his beer bottle.

“What about them?” Cas answers, his gaze unwavering as ever as it meets Dean’s steadily from his spot in the chair next to Dean.

“Do they have any, y’know?” Dean gestures vaguely in the air with the hand that isn’t holding his beer.

Cas sighs. “No, Dean, I don’t know.”

Dean suspects that isn’t actually true. Cas has been good at reading Dean like an open book and to filth equally and simultaneously practically since the moment they met and he has never had any qualms about stating Dean’s unspoken truths if he felt it was necessary, no matter how Dean felt about it. So he certainly would be able to follow the thought process Dean had followed to jump from their previous topic to this one. But sometimes Cas just liked to fuck with Dean, and other times he liked to force Dean to communicate clearly, despite them both being on the same page and knowing it.

“Mating rituals.” Dean supplies because it becomes clear that whether Cas knew what he meant or not, he wasn’t going to offer anything further to this conversation unless Dean started it.

“You’re asking about angel mating rituals?” Cas asks with enough surprise that Dean briefly thinks that maybe he really didn’t know.

“Well,” Dean shrugs and takes a long draw of his beer. “Yeah.”

Cas’s gaze turns curious as it pierces into Dean, and he looks like he would love to probe around in Dean’s head for some sort of explanation. “Angels don’t—“

“Wait!” Dean cuts him off before he gets a chance to answer. “I want to guess.” He swirls the remaining half of the beer around in his bottle while he thinks before snapping a finger and pointing it at Cas. “I bet you’re like peacocks! You fluff your feathers up all big and do some dorky dance.”

The look on Cas’s face is priceless— somewhere between shocked and incredulous and Dean wants to commit it to memory forever. “No, Dean.”

“Damn.” Dean mumbles, reclining in his seat. “What about a nest? Do you build nests for your mates? Not with like twigs and shit, obviously, but— I dunno, pillows or blankets or something?”

“I believe that’s called a pillow fort.” Cas supplies dryly.

“I’ll take that as a no, then.” Dean taps a finger along the edge of his beer bottle, the condensation cool against his fingertip. “Find a shiny rock and gift that to them? Or like, a pretty piece of glass or something?”

Cas’s expression has turned long-suffering. “Are you going to compare me to every feathered creature you know?”

“Yeah,” Dean doesn’t even try to hide his own self-satisfied amusement. “If you give me long enough.”

Dean tries to think of anything that he can actually picture Cas doing. Because yeah, Cas likes shiny rocks and pretty glass as much as anybody does just because they’re nice to look at, but he doesn’t seem overly affected by them. And yeah, when he naps, he’s been known to find the softest and coziest blanket to curl up with, but that’s just smart. Dean has never seen Cas’s wings, so that’s a fifty-fifty shot, he supposes, but he’s also never seen Cas dance and can’t even picture it in his head.

“Well, allow me to spare us a long— though very enlightening, I’m sure— conversation.” Cas’s glare is unimpressed but it slides right off Dean while barely even drawing his attention. “Angels don’t have mating rituals because angels don’t mate.”

That stops all of Dean’s thoughts short. He turns his gaze back to Cas, surprised to find that Cas has turned to stare absently at one of the bookshelves in the room.

“They don’t?” Dean asks after the silence stretches thin between them.

“No.” Cas answers. And though his response is firm, it’s not mean or cold. “Angels don’t know love, Dean. At least, not romantic love. The only sort of love an angel is meant to feel is the sort of holy love for our father and his creations. The idea of romance doesn’t exist in heaven or to angels at all. There’s no need for mating rituals when mating isn’t something that would ever occur to or appeal to an angel.”

Dean thinks about this for a long time, the rim of his beer bottle pressed against his lower lip but he doesn’t take a sip.

In general, Dean has no problem believing that angels don’t love. In general, angels are selfish dicks and he can’t imagine any of them caring about anything other than themselves. In general, angels would never put someone before themselves in a way that’s required for both platonic and romantic love. But in more specific terms—

Well there is one angel who wears a trench coat and a tie that matches his eyes. There’s an angel who fell from heaven for the love of humanity. There’s an angel who has bled for love, died for love, given up everything that love is supposed to mean to an angel and completely rewritten the definition. There is an angel that has spent the better part of a decade looking at Dean in a way that he doesn’t look at anyone else, making Dean’s toes curl in his boots with the intensity of it.

“But…” the gears are turning as Dean tries to refocus his gaze on Cas. Cas isn’t looking directly at him, but Dean knows that Cas is watching him in his periphery, gauging Dean’s reaction without looking like he’s putting a significant amount of weight into it. “That’s not true.”

“Dean, I am quite certain that I know more about angels than you do.” Cas remarks.

Dean doesn’t rise to the bite of the comment. “But you love.” He says instead.

“Of course, I love humanity and the Earth very much.” Cas answers reasonably.

“Yeah,” Dean says. “I know.” And then, “but I mean romantically.”

“Dean—“

“Don’t you?” Dean challenges.

Cas doesn’t answer the question directly. “I am not a very good angel.”

“You’re the only good one.” Dean replies quickly and easily, with every ounce of sincerity he has.

Because Cas is the only good Angel. Cas is the only one who gets it, who cares, who actually wants what’s best for the world.

Cas is also the only one who can make Dean’s stomach squirm the way it does whenever he’s at Dean’s side. He’s the only one who makes Dean feel safe, the only one Dean trusts. He’s the only one Dean would ever trust or picture a future with. He’s the only one who makes Dean’s fingertips tremble, his heart stumble, his throat dry.

Granted, he’s the only person who does any of that for Dean, Angel or not.

“You think too highly of me.” Cas says before sipping his own beer that he had been nursing for the majority of the conversation.

“You’re avoiding the question.” Dean hedges.

Because— yeah, okay, Dean isn’t stupid. He sees his own feelings reflected in Cas’s eyes when Cas looks at him. He understands what it means when Cas steps closer to him, or gives up an entire goddamn army for him. Dean can be slow on the uptake with emotional shit, but he’s not that slow. And it probably helps that he sees it so clearly because he feels it so clearly in his own heart.

He knows the yearning, the longing, the desire. He knows all the fantasies of the happy-ever-after, all the filthier fantasies that fill up the days in between. He knows what it’s like to want to cling to Cas, to desperately plead with him to never leave Dean’s side. He knows the agony of their separation as acutely as possible. He gets it.

And he also knows why this has never happened, why neither of them have ever crossed that line, even though they’ve never even dared to hint at its existence before. Because he knows that what they would have— that would be forever. It would be ruinous in the most beautiful way, burning down everything around them and blazing a path to eternity. And for so many goddamn years, forever and eternity were in danger. For so many years, a future of any goddamn length was in danger.

What would be the point of starting something meant to last forever when forever didn’t exist? It hurt like enough of a bitch every time Dean lost Cas and he didn’t know if that was the last time he’d ever see him. If he’d lost his forever then, too, instead of just his best friend— well, what the hell reason would he have had to keep fighting? It was self preservation in its barest form, the knowledge that they could only keep going if they kept apart. Because that would keep them fighting, keep them determined to reach the day where forever was finally secured and they could fall into each other without reservations.

And, well, Dean hadn’t killed Chuck, but he had taken the bastard off the board so forever was well and truly theirs if they wanted it.

And Dean wanted it.

He wanted it so bad he almost didn’t know how to have it.

Cas is staring back at Dean now, seeming to go through the same mental calculations that Dean is going through. Dean just hopes that Cas has any idea how to reach out and grab the one thing they both want.

Cas takes a breath, sets his beer down.

“Yes.” He answers simply. “I do.”

Dean swallows against a dry throat. “So?” He prompts. “What’s your big game plan? You get to make up any mating ritual you want.”

“You know,” Cas says offhandedly. “If I tell you my big ‘game plan’, as you call it, you will have to give me feedback on it. How else am I meant to know if it would work?”

Dean licks his bottom lip. “I’m being trusted to approve the first ever angel mating ritual?” He aims for lighthearted, even though he can feel his pulse in his fingertips. “Lay it on me.”

“Well,” Cas doesn’t sound as nervous as Dean feels, even though he knows that he doesn’t really have any reason to feel that way. “I was thinking that I would start with the classic spark— maybe have multiple, raining down.”

Dean chokes on half of a disbelieving laugh.

“Then I would spend about, oh, over a decade at his side, always coming when he called and leaving when he got sick of me. I would try very, very hard to navigate his boundaries and I would be unsuccessful.” Cas’s smile is wry. “I would betray him a time or two.”

“Keep him guessing.” Dean says, the smile clear in his voice.

“Exactly.” Cas is smiling more genuinely now. “I would probably die for him a few times, too. Maybe even accidentally start a family with him.”

Dean has set his own beer down now. “You gotta add in some, like, intense eye contact, or something.”

“And no personal space.” Cas agrees with a nod.

Dean laughs outright now, the nerves draining completely from his body. He had no idea the conversation would steer this way when he had asked what he assumed was an innocent enough question, but he’s glad that it did. Because if he’d had time to prepare for this conversation, time to anticipate it, he knows that he would’ve chickened out. Just like he has so many times in the past.

When his laughter dies down, Cas says “well?”

“What can I say, man?” Dean leans onto the armrest of his chair, putting himself closer to Cas. “It would work on me.”

“Oh, would it?” Cas asks as he, too, leans into the barely there space that’s separating them.

“Hell yeah.” Dean murmurs, reaching across to wrap a hand around Cas’s tie. “Would have me all weak-kneed and giggling.”

Cas starts to say something back but Dean honestly doesn’t give a shit what, so he tugs on the tie and draws Cas to him, pressing a far overdue kiss to his lips. Cas, as always, meets him in the middle, a hand gently encircling Dean’s wrist as he kisses him back with ten years of pent of adoration.

One kiss turns into two, turns into seven before they finally settle back into their respective seats.

“First angel mating ritual in history,” Dean says around a satisfied smile. “And you were successful.”

“Yes, I’ll be sure to tell the other angels in case any of them have a free decade to spend seducing one of the most frustratingly stubborn men on earth.” Cas replies in a way that is full of endearment instead of the frustration he mentioned.

Dean just laughs and kisses him again.

#I can’t explain this #the idea just wouldn’t leave me alone #so I had to type it up so it would go away #destiel #deancas #spn #supernatural #ficlet

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amee-racle-ofmyown · 3 months

Text

a whisper in the autumn wind

Heist!Mark x reader | Words: 1647 | Read on AO3

A chill racks your body as you and Mark make your way through the cool night. You mentally curse, wishing you were wearing more layers, though you know anything more wouldn't have fit under the tactical vest that sits snugly around your torso.

Your heist partner doesn't seem to notice you shiver, busy making sure the coast is clear before proceeding and gesturing for you to follow.

You do your best to keep pace with your friend's manoeuvres as he darts an odd pattern through the museum, triggering a bout of slight nausea that causes you to stop in your tracks.

‘Hey, keep up!’ Mark whisper-yells, turning around just in time to miss you steadying yourself after a wave of dizziness.

Somehow you make it the rest of the way without collapsing or being seen, but you're now all too aware of the fatigue in your muscles and the soreness in your throat. Meanwhile, your partner in crime carefully but swiftly wraps the stolen artefacts and slips them into his bag.

Your prize this time? A series of ancient tablets that you plan to sell to an illegal collector. You can't imagine what practical use someone would have for these, but at the end of the day, a job's a job and money is money.

It is only on your way out, that you feel the tell-tale itch in your nose that you have been dreading all evening.

As you scrunch up your face, Mark looks at you in confusion.

‘Buddy, you've been acting off all night, what's up with you? You good?’

You nod, desperately wanting to move on and for this to be over with.

The first couple of sneezes you manage to quell without too much fuss, but you can already feel a larger one threatening your nostrils.

While crouched behind a display, hiding from some guards, comes the point at which you can no longer hide that you're suppressing sneezes.

‘Alright, we are so close to being scot-free— hey what are you —? You're not sick are you? Really? Now?!’

Mark shakes his head back and forth with a string of frantically whispered "no"s as you fight your reflexes, but it's futile.

The sneeze that finally escapes you is resounding, and there is a beat of stunned silence and lack of movement from every party involved before you and Mark react first, bolting out the exit with the guards in pursuit.

It's a mad dash with a lot of ducking and diving, adrenaline probably the only thing keeping your body going, but by some miracle the two of you manage to lose them, eventually making it to where your getaway vehicle is parked some ways away so as to not be suspicious.

Piling into the passenger seat, exhaustion hits you all at once and you're thankful that Mark is the one driving. You pull off your gloves and hat and he does the same.

With no one following you, your partner drives cautiously in order to not draw any unwanted attention, careful to abide by traffic laws and always on the lookout for cops.

‘There's tissues and water in the glove box,’ he says after a few minutes, expression hard-lined and inscrutable, eyes focused on the road.

There's a thick tension in the car, uncharacteristically quiet save for the limited traffic outside and the rumble of the engine. You blow your nose, and it feels awkward in the silence, only broken on occasion by your sniffing. You take a sip of water, grateful for the coolness against your chapped lips and dry throat.

Eventually, you decide you don't want to endure the tension any longer, and you're too tired to let your little mishap turn into an argument; it was your fault, after all.

‘I'm sorry.’

Mark sighs. He glances at you, then back to the road.

‘It's okay. It's not your fault you're sick, it's just… Why didn't you tell me?’

‘Didn't want to ruin the heist.’ You laugh, but it's strained and weak, void of any real mirth or humour. ‘But I guess I kinda messed up on that anyway, huh?’

He lets out a small huff of laughter. ‘Yeah, no shit.’

You look down at your hands, folded in your lap.

‘Hey, it's not a big deal,’ he consoles. ‘We got what we came for and we didn't get caught. That's about as much as we can say for most of our heists.’

Your gaze stays downcast; he does make a good point, but it doesn't stop you from feeling a little guilty.

Mark must notice, because he reaches across to place a hand on your shoulder reassuringly, other hand still keeping the wheel steady.

You put your own hand over his, grateful for the comfort. You close your eyes and will away the growing dizziness and brain fog, the warmth from his now ungloved palm reassuring.

‘Look buddy, I need you to know I'm not mad or anything, just a bit upset that you didn't tell me in the first place… and annoyed at myself for not catching onto the fact sooner. I just thought… I thought you felt like you could be honest with me about this stuff.’

There's an undeniable hurt in his tone that makes you look up at him. He is still intently focused on the road ahead, despite there being rather few other people and cars out at this time of night, and you know it's out of choice — he takes his eyes off the streets in favour of looking your way for much longer than necessary when he wants to. Usually you'd chide him for doing so, but right now you can't help but wish he'd properly meet your eyes, just for a moment.

‘No – I can. I can tell you nearly everything, I – I'm sorry.’ You take a steadying breath, organising your thoughts. ‘You were just – really looking forward to this one, and there was no better day for it, everything lined up perfectly for us to go tonight. This stupid cold had to turn up and it started out as just a sore throat, no big deal, and well… I thought I could stick it out a little longer despite feeling like crap, but…’ You trail off, turning to look out the window as he approaches your shared base, returning his hand to the wheel.

He pulls up, setting the car to park, and finally turns his head to fully face you, placing a hand on your knee to get your attention.

He says your name, and it sounds like a term of endearment. For someone so bold and often brash, he can be surprisingly tender, a side of him that rarely anyone but you gets to see. ‘I rely on you, and you can rely on me… but part of that means we have to tell each other these things.’

‘Yeah, OK…’

‘Pinky promise?’

‘What are you, five?’

‘I'm serious,’ he says firmly, holding out his finger to emphasise the point.

Smiling, you hook your pinky around his own and shake on it, but not without rolling your eyes first.

‘Good,’ he says, pleased. ‘Now that that's settled, let's get inside, hm?’

While Mark retrieves the loot and stows it for the time being, you let yourself in, settling on the small couch in the living room. You take off your shoes and unzip your vest, easing it off your aching limbs.

The nausea and dizziness seems to have passed but you feel hot, yet a little shivery, and you're on the verge of nodding off when Mark appears in front of you, pressing the back of his hand to your forehead. If it's even possible, you feel incrementally hotter with his touch as you return his concerned gaze through sleepy, half-lidded eyes.

‘I think you've got a fever, bud. C'mon, time for bed.’

You groan in protest, too drained to move, instead letting your head fall forward to plop against his chest, the soft texture of his plain black sweater a comforting feel against your fevered skin.

‘Oh boy, what am I gonna do with you…?’ he murmurs, bringing a hand up to pat your hair. He speaks softly, and with such affection that your heart would probably be doing somersaults if you weren't so tired and ill.

‘Alright, upsy-daisy.’ In one quick motion, he picks you up, carrying you bridal style to your room, and for once you don't object.

‘Hey, you better not make me sick too,’ he warns without an ounce of actual distaste, as you practically nuzzle your face into him.

He gently lays you in bed, tucking covers around you.

‘I'll be right back.’

You instantly miss his presence, tugging the blanket up a little around yourself.

He returns before long with a box of tissues, the bottle of water you'd been drinking and some painkillers, leaving them by your bedside. He places a wet face cloth beside you as well.

‘I know you're probably feeling cold but I don't want your temperature to get too high, so use this, and keep drinking water.’

You nod, about ready to drift to sleep.

‘Call me if you need anything, OK? I won't be far.’

‘Don't you want to sleep?’

‘I will in a little while, but you can still call me.’

‘Ok,’ you reply appreciatively. ‘Thanks for… looking after me.’

‘Someone's got to.’ He smiles at you gently, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face.

After a pause, he gets up to leave, pulling the door closed but leaving a gap the width of his face.

‘Rest up, buddy.’

He makes a quick kissing sound in your direction before shutting the door fully, his footsteps receding down the hallway.

Your face feels very warm.

Must be the fever, you think, placing the towel on your forehead with a yawn, before swiftly falling asleep.

#title from Violet by Wild Party #once again lolol I just really like that song #dude this so self-indulgent >-<😳#I miss being babied and taken care of when sick and it SHOWS😖#amee writes #ahwm #partners in crime #heist mark x reader #heist mark x y/n #heist!mark x y/n #heist!mark #heist mark #mark iplier #x reader #a heist with markiplier #markiplier egos #markiplier cu

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imonanotherlebel · 3 months

Note

Heey, i saw ur asks r open and i think i might need smtng abt hoshi or woozi helping their s/o coping with life stress fam stuff university and work at same time cuz i feel exhausted and i'm serious need of a delulu tap on my shoulder

Thanks✨

Oooooo I love this ask, babes. Let me write about Hoshi. I hope it's okay!

Personal note to anon: I hope you're doing okay babes. Life is very stressful and hard. But I want you to know that every storm ends eventually, and a beautiful time will come by soon. Hang in there!<3❤️

Genre: Tooth rotting fluff with abhint of angst.

Requested: I feel like Hoshi would step up and take all your life stress away as a partner. Like, he is such a sweetheart omg my heart! 😭❤️

Pairing: Hoshi x reader

Warnings: Mentions of food, i guess? WARNING, LOT OF LOVE AHEAD!

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Hoshi breezed into your shared apartment, a playful glint in his eyes, ready to infuse the space with his trademark energy. However, a subtle change in your demeanor caught his attention.

"Hey, love, something's on your mind. Mind sharing with me?", he asked, his voice etched with concern.

You, caught off guard, offered a tired smile. "Just the usual uni and work stress, Hoshi. You know how it is."

Leaning in, Hoshi's playful expression shifted to genuine concern. "I know you better than that, baby. What's really going on, Y/n? Talk to me."

You sighed, deciding to drop the façade.

"Alright, family issues are piling up, and deadlines at uni are suffocating. Work isn't making it any easier. I still haven't completed my assignment which is due in two days. I don't know Hosh, I feel like I'm drowning."

Seated beside you, Hoshi gently took your hand in to his, rubbing them softly. "You're not alone in this, babe. We're a team. Tell me what's specifically bothering you."

You hesitated a little, then opened up about the complexities of your family dynamics, demanding courses, and the relentless pressure at work. Hoshi listened intently, his expressive eyes mirroring empathy.

"I didn't want to burden you with all this," you confessed, vulnerability seeping into your voice.

You have always been the person your family expected to be responsible and strong. You have gone through so many painful and difficult times on your own, never burdening anyone with them. Your tears had always been in between you and your pillow and the four walls of your room.

Hoshi cupped your face. "Love, your struggles are mine too. We face them together. Don't ever think you're burdening me.", he said concern and love written all over his face.

Hoshi, although usually is a playful, childish and funny person, knew when he had to step up and take the wheel so that you could let your guard down and lean on him for comfort.

.......

Over the next days, your interactions evolved into a symphony of shared moments. Hoshi was extra careful with you, always checking on you without bothering you too much.

Hoshi surprised you with more than just grand gestures – little notes carefully placed on the fridge or tucked into your books before heading to practices. Each note carried words of encouragement, love, and even a few goofy drawings which never failed to make you smile.

........

One day, as you got home after uni, you saw a pretty little bento box cake with a note next to it which read "Pretty cake for my pretty girl. Eat it all and regain your energy okay? And I know you get pretty stressed with your assignments at hand, so I have bought some of your favorite ice cream for you. It's in the fridge, okay? Love you baby! - Hosh<3"

Oh I wish I could eat this but my face is bloated and I feel like I might have gained some weight, so maybe just one bite. You felt so insecure as the stress from being so overworked kept you away from taking care of your body as you usually do.

You pulled out the little spoon and took a little bite off the cake before putting it into the fridge. You went back to your studies after a small shower.

A few hours later, Hoshi was back from his practice.

"Hey my beautiful girl!", he said brightly as he headed towards the fridge to get some cold water. "Hey, Hosh", you replied barely looking up.

"Hey..... Why is this still here?", Hoshi asked, concern etched in his tone. He sounded very hurt, you looked up towards him to see what's wrong. And there he was, with the bento cake in hand, looking at you sadly.

"I had a bite Hosh", you said, trying to sound cheerful and trying to hide the fact that you are slowly falling back into your insecurities.

"Liar.", he said furrowing his brows.

"Okay fine. Look Hosh, I've gained like five kilos these two weeks. I'm barely going to the gym. I think I should stop indulging, and cut my calories.

"Oh STOP IT!", he stormed towards you with the cake, looking mad as hell. One thing about this sweet boy, You never want to see him angry. He scary.

"Eat this. NOW", he said placing the cake infront of you with the spoon. He folded his arms and continued to give you a death stare. You slowly took the spoon into your had and picked at the cake. Bite after bite, Hoshi's anger seemed to fade away. When you were done with about half of it, Hoshi ruffled your hair.

"Baby, I know how important it is to take care of your body and be fit. But there are times in life when we can't prioritize it like before. But you should never be afraid of food. With more weight or not, you are you. You are working hard. You are trying your best. And you must eat, baby. That's all that matters. Okay?", he asked a hint of pain and lot of love filled in his voice.

"i'm sorry, babe. I just- It's just- I don't know...", you struggled finding words to explain your emotions.

"I know baby, I know.", he said softly as he came closer. Hugging you and pulling your head into his chest. Stroking it gently.

......

One evening on the balcony under a starry sky, Hoshi spoke softly. "You're resilient, Y/n. And it's okay not to be strong all the time. Lean on me when you need to."

Feeling a weight lift off your shoulders, you expressed gratitude. "Thank you for being my anchor, Hoshi. I appreciate having you."

He pulled you into a tender kiss, hugging you tightly afterwards. "We're in this together, always. Let's make this place not just our home but a haven where we face life's storms side by side. I want you to know that I will always be there by your side".

In the days that followed, Hoshi continued to shower you with affection. He would often sneak up behind you, planting soft kisses on your neck while you worked at your desk. "Just a little energy boost for my hardworking love," he'd say, leaving you smiling amidst your assignments.

One evening, as you prepared dinner together, Hoshi couldn't resist stealing a kiss, his playful tone accompanied by a mischievous grin. "Cooking is much better with a dash of love," he said, sealing the sentiment with another sweet peck that lingered just long enough to leave you blushing.

Your conversations became a blend of deep talks, deep connections and playfulness.... Hoshi, always the comedian, lightened the mood with silly jokes and goofy faces. He would sometimes try to pull you away from your studies, or overthinking a little bit and show his new dance moves or a choreo he just made with the boys.

"You're my favorite audience, Y/n. Your smile is the best reward," he admitted, punctuating his words with a tender kiss on your cheek.

......

Amidst the chaos of life, you both found solace in simple moments. One lazy Sunday morning, you both lingered in bed, wrapped in each other's arms. Hoshi traced patterns on your back, his voice, soft and filled with love. "You're my calm in the storm, Y/n. Let's stay in this moment forever." You can't lie, he is your only solace, your only medicine.

.......

Your apartment echoed with laughter and the soft sounds of shared secrets. One day after you just finished completing yet another assignment, Hoshi, with an impish grin, surprised you with a spontaneous pillow fight. Amidst the feathers floating in the air, he stole a kiss, leaving the both of you breathless and laughing.

At night, as you curled up on the couch watching a movie, Hoshi whispered sweet nothings in your ear. "I love you so much, baby. Sometimes I feel like i'm going crazy. You're the script of my love story, and every moment with you is a scene I never want to end," he confessed, sealing his words with a lingering kiss.

Your love story unfolded like a beautifully choreographed dance, with Hoshi leading the way. You found comfort in him. You were there for him when he was vulnerable, and now here he is, being your knight in shining armor. The apartment became a part off of a movie screen; romance, painted with stolen kisses, whispered promises, and the shared warmth of your laughter.

As you guys were snuggled up in your bed, trying to fall asleep, Hoshi held you close, his eyes reflecting the depth of his affection. "Life is a journey, love, and I'm grateful you're my companion. You're the strongest person I know, y/n, and I would die without you." he declared, sealing the sentiment with a passionate kiss that left no room for doubt.

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

I hope you liked this babes!!<3 Take care!

#seventeen #seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff #seventeen reactions #hoshi #seventeen hoshi #hoshi imagines #seventeen oneshot #kwon soonyoung #kwon soonyoung imagines #kpop fanfic #kpop fluff #kpop imagines #kpop #seventeen x reader #hoshi x reader #hoshi x y/n #hoshi x you #minors dni

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laundrybiscuits · 1 year

Text

(FINE I guess this is a series now. whatever.)

“He’s where,” says Steve.

“Off to see the wizard, my dude.” Argyle passes him a pipe. Steve’s not really sure where it came from or when Argyle packed it, but he’s got manners, so he takes a hit and hands it off to Jonathan.

“Murray,” elaborates Jonathan, on an exhale. “The…you know. Oh wow, I guess you’ve never met Murray either. That’s weird, right? I mean, you were there, you were just…”

“Babysitting, probably,” says Steve. “Wait, why is Eddie meeting this guy?”

Argyle gestures in a big loopy way. It reminds Steve a little bit of how Eddie waves his arms around. “Eddie’s on, like, a spiritual journey. A dream quest, but…real life. The realest.”

“Not spiritual like church,” adds Jonathan. “Like, gay spirit. Is that a thing? Shit, why doesn’t anyone know Murray.”

“I don’t know Murray either, man,” says Argyle.

“Is…Murray a real person?” Steve asks. He doesn’t think it’s an unreasonable question.

“Yes! Jesus. He’s real, okay? Nancy knows Murray, we—yeah. Nancy knows him.” Jonathan looks kind of dour and depressed, but he always sort of looks like that.

“How’s Nancy doing?” Steve doesn’t really want to know, but it seems like the polite thing to say.

“We’re fine,” says Jonathan.

“Okay,” says Steve, who hadn’t asked that at all.

“Everything’s fine,” Jonathan repeats. Argyle reaches over to pat Jonathan on the head, then takes the pipe from Jonathan’s hand.

———

“Hm,” says Murray. It’s hard to tell what he’s thinking behind all the facial hair and glasses. “Okay, I don’t usually do this, but…what the hell. Kiddo, you are way too young to be talking like that. Your life’s not over, and if you’re smart about it, it doesn’t have to be over any time soon.”

Murray sits back on the couch, kicking up his feet. There’s a hole in his left sock.

“You think happily ever after only looks like one thing? That’s the thought of a child. If you really want, you can make some kind of picket fence life for yourself, suburbs and all. But you’re a queer, so that means you don’t have to do that shit because nobody’s expecting you to anymore. You get to decide what matters to you.”

“I don’t know any way to be gay that’s not lonely as hell,” Eddie says.

“That’s because you’re an idiot and an infant,” says Murray gently.

“You don’t have a—a boyfriend.” It comes out a little too sharp and mean, but Eddie’s feeling cornered.

Murray laughs. “Kid, what did I just say? I don’t want a damn boyfriend. Some guy coming over here all the time, eating my food? Hell no. We’re degenerate homos, we get to decide what to keep and what to shove down the god damn garbage disposal. I got some arrangements in place, and that’s the way I like it. The whole lovey-dovey romance shit isn’t for me.”

Eddie draws his legs up, wrapping his arms around his shins. His boots are probably leaving marks on the couch, but Murray can deal. “I think it…I think that is for me. I want that to be for me. Um. In general.”

Murray actually tilts his head down to give Eddie a scathing look over the top of his glasses. “No shit, Joan Jett. Your whole ooh please push past my defenses to prove you love me schtick is visible from space.”

“Fuck,” says Eddie, knocking his head against his knees. He closes his eyes, humiliated beyond words, feeling scooped-out and awful.

“C’mon, it’s not that bad.” Eddie feels a tap on his arm, and when he looks up, Murray’s holding out a glass with about an inch of amber liquid in it. “We all go through something like that. It’s a rite of passage, just like it is to get so wasted you throw up on the stranger you dragged into a club bathroom. You’ll do that too. You’re gonna be messy and embarrassing anyway, so just enjoy the ride. And take the damn Talisker, it’ll help.”

Eddie takes the damn Talisker and knocks it back in one go, just to be an ass. Murray rolls his eyes but pours him another one.

“Ah, practical shit…” Murray scratches at his beard thoughtfully. “Been a while since I had to do this. Poppers are great, don’t overdo ‘em. Splurge on the fancy medical lube if you want but Vaseline or Crisco’ll do the trick just fine. And listen up, kitten, because you can ignore everything else that comes outta my mouth, but you can’t ignore this: always wrap it up. I mean always. I don’t care if he’s your soulmate, I don’t care if it kills the mood, I don’t care if he says he’s a blushing goddamn virgin. If he doesn’t want to wear a rubber, he doesn’t care if you live or die.”

Murray looks down at his own glass. For the first time, Eddie thinks he looks—tired.

“I know there’s probably a big part of you that doesn’t care if you live or die, either. But you gotta remember there’s people who do. The kid who sent you to me. He doesn’t want to go to your funeral.”

“Yeah,” Eddie says. It comes out too quiet; he swallows and tries again. “Yeah. I know. I’ve—been to funerals too.”

Murray barks out a surprised laugh. “God, you have, haven’t you? Think I was almost thirty, my first time. I’m sorry, Joan Jett, this isn’t a great time to be young and gay. Go make friends with some dykes, they’ll keep you sane.”

Eddie, who has held Robin’s hair back as she ralphed into a bucket after losing a Peeps-eating competition with Steve, has his doubts, but he just nods.

Murray looks at him for a moment, then takes his face between two big hands and kisses him on the forehead. It feels neither sexual nor familial, but something beyond all of the easy categories Eddie’s known.

“Now piss off,” Murray says. “Don’t get some crazy idea that this means we’re friends, or that you can start coming around whenever you feel like it.”

“So, just Tuesdays, Thursdays, and every other Sunday,” says Eddie, and ducks out before Murray can start cussing at him.

———

See, Eddie’s little crush on Steve is meant to be purely recreational. It’s fun to crush on unavailable guys he knows—way more fun than celebrities or whatever. It’s just nice, to feel his heart speed up a little when Steve’s around, safe in the certain knowledge that he’s never going to do a damn thing about it. It even feels good to hurt a little bit over it, achy and sharp, like pushing on a bruise.

Yeah, Eddie knows he’s a little fucked up. But he figures this is harmless enough: a secret little vice that nobody’s ever going to know about.

Apparently, everybody knows.

“Um,” says Jonathan, wide-eyed. “Was it…supposed to be a secret?”

“Yes,” hisses Eddie. “Because this is Hawkins, Indiana, and I don’t want to fucking die. Did we or did we not just have a conversation about the many and various perils this whole thing entails.”

“My dude, if you don’t want it to be, like, public knowledge, maybe don’t flirt with him so much?”

“Betrayal!” Eddie gasps, staggering around like he’s been stabbed in the back, because he fucking has. “An unjust hit by Argyle the Assassin.”

“Argyle the Assistant,” says Argyle. “I’m assisting you, bro.”

“I don’t flirt with Steve!” Eddie screeches. “We’re friends! I flirt with you two dickwads more than I do with Steve, because I don’t flirt with Steve!”

“You really do,” says Jonathan apologetically. “Kind of…a lot. Remember when we were out by the quarry, and you kept calling him princess.”

“As a joke!”

“Ohhh yeah,” says Argyle. “That was the day you, like…took his jacket, right?”

“I was cold!”

Jonathan grins. “Is that why you kept asking him how it looked on you?”

“As…a joke,” says Eddie, weakly. He’s starting to remember that it might’ve been even worse; the words do I look pretty in your clothes, Stevie may or may not have been uttered.

“Hey, man, it’s no biggie. That was a million years ago and he didn’t say anything, so you’re free and clear. Totally righteous.” Argyle throws an arm around Eddie, who curls into him sulkily. Argyle’s tall and solid and kinda hot, so it’s a real shame Eddie can’t crush on him instead.

Eddie sighs. “If Jonathan weren’t here, I’d ask you to make out with me until I felt better,” he says.

“What,” says Jonathan. “You can’t—I mean, you can, and I, uh—support you? Should I leave?”

“Aw,” says Argyle, and ruffles Eddie’s hair. “That’s sweet, dude. If Jonathan weren’t here, I would.”

“What is happening,” says Jonathan. “I’m gonna—should I leave? I’m gonna leave.”

Eddie whines, “No, c’mon, stay, we’ll do that seance. That’ll make me feel better too. Maybe we can resurrect my deceased heterosexuality.”

They don’t manage to raise any ghosts or any heterosexualities, but it does make Eddie feel a little better anyway.

#cw: reference to the AIDS crisis #fic: young man what do you wanna be #yup that's the new title. yup it's from the YMCA song by the Village People.#1) it's a gay disco standard 2) it represents the level of seriousness with which you should treat this series #I genuinely do not know if this will ever be posted on AO3 because I'm putting so little effort into making it a coherent story #instead of a vehicle for eddie + jargyle interactions #ALSO I do not actually know if pipes were super common in the 80s. I did zero research on any part of this. just go with it shhh

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birgittesilverbae · 9 months

Note

prompt: black strapon bealil

I am not immune to you twisting my arm I guess. nsfw-ish, not explicit

Lilith tugs Beatrice closer by the front of her - Shannon's - Mary's - whoever's hoodie, fists her hands in the pocket and presses down until Beatrice bends to kiss her. She draws back slightly before Beatrice's mouth can meet hers. "Go put it on."

"Are you sure?"

"We decided on it together, didn't we?" Beatrice's cheeks are just as red as they had in the shop that afternoon, the colour blooming all the way up to her temples, down to her collarbones. "You really going to back out now, Williams?"

"No!" Beatrice seems startled by her own vehemence, her second "no" coming softer. She ducks her chin, her eyes darting to the side as her cheeks trend towards scarlet. "I just don't know that I'll be any good at it."

"You say that as though I have any more experience than you. As though we haven't been in lockstep this whole time." She slips her hands up beneath the hem of Beatrice's hoodie, hooks her fingers in the waistband of her boxers. Beatrice covers Lilith's hands with her own, presses firmly against them, and Lilith exhales softly. "If you don't want to try it tonight, darling, then we won't try it tonight."

"I do want to try." She steps back, the band snapping against her abs as Lilith's fingers slip free. "I haven't been able to think about anything else all day," she admits in a rush, then gestures back over her shoulder. "I'm going to..."

"Take your time, love."

The wait is agonizing. What had once been a comfortable sprawl begins sending pins and needles down Lilith's leg and she shifts from posture to posture without respite. She's been caught up in the image all day as well, ever since Beatrice had tangled her fingers shyly in the dark leather of the harness and stroked her thumb across it, nodded her approval at the feel of it against her skin.

Any amount of daydreaming couldn't have prepared her for Beatrice emerging hesitantly from the hall, hoodie and boxers discarded to leave her bare but for that harness. The dark straps cut a sharp contrast to pale skin that spent most of the summer obscured by chino shorts and rowing trou.

Beatrice halts in front of her, just out of reach, and stands tall under the scrutiny, though her gaze is fixed somewhere beyond Lilith's shoulder. Lilith stares unabashedly, drinking in the flex of muscle as Bea shifts minutely from foot to foot, the measured rise and fall of her chest, the dark strap-on hanging between her legs.

Lilith had been the one to choose the strap, after Beatrice's ears had gone bright red when she'd been pressed about the type of base she might want and she'd mumbled something incomprehensible. She'd curled her fingers around cock after cock, held eye contact with Beatrice as she imagined how each might feel inside her. The stretch, the pleasant ache, the all-too-practiced roll of Beatrice's hips. She'd selected the first that had made Beatrice's tongue dart out to wet her lips, had stepped towards Beatrice and dipped her mouth to Beatrice's ear. Had whispered "can't wait" or something equally as inane, something she can't quite remember because it had been lost in the wake of Beatrice gathering up her courage and responding in turn, "go with the black one."

She'd been correct, of course. She's always so infuriatingly correct. It hangs there like a eucharist - and if the nuns at St. Mary's could see them now, they'd surely-

"It looks absurd, doesn't it." Beatrice sighs, breaking Lilith's reverie. "It must; it feels absurd."

"What?" Lilith scrambles to right herself, reaches a hand out to Beatrice. "No. Well, no more absurd than you usually look, seeing as you have about fifteen different tan lines right now."

"I do not," Beatrice squawks.

Lilith takes her wrist and advantage of her disgruntlement and draws her closer. "You do, though." She traces her fingertips up the length of Beatrice's arm. "UV long sleeve, watch, rolled shirt sleeves, t-shirt." She rolls over the point of Beatrice's shoulder, rattles off "tank top, unisuit top, bikini top" as her fingers follow the dip and roll of Beatrice's collarbone.

"Enough, enough, I understand your point." Beatrice rolls her eyes and Lilith catches a pert nipple between her thumb and forefinger and tweaks it. Beatrice exhales shakily, her abs rippling with the effort to keep herself upright and contained.

"But I hadn't even gotten to the good bit yet," Lilith murmurs, pressing a conciliatory kiss to the angle of Beatrice's jaw.

"The burn I got the one time I wore bikini bottoms?"

"No, darling, your stupid little sunglasses tan. You look like a raccoon."

Beatrice groans, but the tension has seeped from her limbs and she stands between Lilith's legs with a cocksure steadiness. "Thank you," she says suddenly, reaching to tuck a loose strand of hair back behind Lilith's ear.

"For calling you a raccoon?" Beatrice flicks her earlobe and Lilith laughs. "Anything to make you feel comfortable."

"Sap."

"For you?" The admission catches in Lilith's throat, as it always does, but she forges ahead anyway. "Always."

#myfic #mywn #fic: dads #beatrice x lilith #ask #daisychainsandbowties #ha didn't get baited t h a t far-

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