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lustfulslxt · 3 months

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What Are You Doing Step Sis? - Matt Sturniolo

summary : y/n and matt can’t keep the naughty thoughts out of their heads when matt helps her with her math. she tempts him, he gives in

warnings : step sibling kink, smut, swearing, 3rd person pov

a/n : again, i don't want to hear anything about how gross this is. THEY'RE NOT RELATED!!!!!!!! if you're not into this, keep scrolling! x

It's been a good hour of Y/N staring at the man in front of her. Every word he said about anything even closely relating to the subject at hand went in one ear and out the other. She couldn't help but take in all of his features, indulging in the beauty of him. There was no denying the attraction Y/N felt towards Matthew. His innocence simply made her want to freak him.

His long slender fingers scrolling through the pages before them, tapping alongside the edges of the paper, flicking the pencil up and down. The veins in his hand prominently protruding, practically causing her to salivate in front of him. The way he would furrow his eyebrows in concentration, his tongue licking his inner cheek. His pink lips puckering and twisting every so often.

Without a doubt in her mind, Y/N was sure Matthew wasn't so innocent underneath the layers of the 'good little son' facade that he portrayed. He played the act very well, but she could see right through him. Imagining what he's truly like underneath had her clenching her thighs from the thoughts alone.

"Y/N, are you even listening?" His voice snapped her from her trance. "How am I supposed to help you if you aren't paying attention?"

She frowns, "I am paying attention!"

"To what?" He chuckles, his white teeth sparkling in the glowing light from her bedside lamp. "It sure isn't what I'm trying to teach you."

"Fair." She smirks, "You're distracting!"

He gapes at her, "I'm distracting? I'm literally talking about quadratic equations."

Y/N bites her lip to prevent her smile from growing. She shrugs, innocently staring up into his eyes. He clears his throat and breaks eye contact with her, ushering her to pay attention to the books before them. Y/N leans closer to him, directing her attention to the laid-out textbooks. She can hear his breath slightly hitch at their close proximity, causing her to grin to herself.

"Okay, continue." She speaks.

He clears his throat once more, shaking his head. "Right."

He can't lie, there's something about her that draws him in. He's so captivated by everything about her. Her sweet voice that he wants to hear in a different setting. Her glowing skin that he just wants to paint with his seed. Her soft hair that he just wants to wrap around his hand. Her body that curves in all the right places, oh, how he just wants to make it shake with orgasm after orgasm.

Y/N feels the same way. It doesn't take a genius to know Matt's a freak in the sheets. Her desire for him only grows more and more each day, tempting her to give in to the fantasy in her head. She struggles to control herself sometimes. Being stepsiblings doesn't help either, the thought of sneaking around with him turns her on.

A few days ago, she asked him to tutor her. She was failing math, and she didn't want to have to retake the class next year. He's a year older, so a year ahead as well, and he was the perfect person to help her, seeing as he's crazy smart. Sure, she really wanted to pass, but she couldn't help but daydream about naughty things every time he helped her.

"You're not a virgin, are you?" Y/N randomly asks, catching Matt off guard.

He coughs a little, choking on the built-up saliva from her being in his presence. "What?!"

"Oh, come on." She glances at him, noticing the faint blush spread across his cheeks. "It's just a question."

It's silent for a moment, the only sound being Matt's pencil dragging across the paper, leaving traces of lead behind. Y/N watches as his eyebrows furrow in thought, his lips twisting at the same time.

"I'm not." He answers, his voice quiet but firm.

She grins in response, "You're a slut, aren't you?"

His mouth falls open, his eyes wide. From the sudden bizarre question, the pencil falls from his fingers and hits the floor. Before he can grab it, she holds her hand up.

"I'll get it." She says in a sultry voice.

She places her hand on his upper thigh, using it as support as she leans down. Her ass slightly lifts up with her movement, the straps from her thong showing from beneath her shorts. Matt can't help but stare at the strings gripping onto her hips so perfectly. He wishes he could replace them with his hands as he takes her from behind.

She grabs the pencil and pops back up, holding it in between their faces. She can see his cheeks growing darker, his lips glistening with saliva from licking them as he stared at her behind. She smirks at him, grabbing his hand with her opposite one, guiding him to take the pencil from her, since he's just staring.

"Right. Sorry." He mutters, visibly shaking his head.

He grabs a textbook and places it over his lap, covering the slight bulge. His action doesn't go unseen, causing Y/N to smirk even more. Definitely a slut.

"Where were we?" She asks, her doe eyes gazing into his.

She'd look so innocent and sexy on her knees, staring into his eyes with his cock sliding down her throat. Her pretty luscious lips wrapped snugly around him, drool dripping from the corners of her mouth. Her small, manicured fingers placed onto his thighs as she gracefully let him shove his cock in and out of her.

"What are you thinking about, hm?" Her voice snaps him from his thoughts.

He looks like a deer in headlights, eyes wide like he's been caught. He quickly recomposes himself, "What's the difference between a mathematical sentence versus a mathematical expression?"

She groans, falling back onto her bed. "You're no fun."

He intently watches the way her boobs bounce with her movement, and the way her shirt lifts up to expose her stomach. He closes his eyes, deeply inhaling to calm himself down. She's not even doing much, and he's getting so worked up, but he knows she knows what she's doing.

"You asked me to tutor you, that's what I'm doing." He responds, firmly.

"Fair enough." She mutters, allowing them to get back to the subject at hand.

Another hour or so goes by, both of them strictly focusing on math. They both had internal struggles, wanting nothing more than to toss the books away and go at it on the bed. It's the simplest things that the both of them do, driving one another insane.

"Alright, we'll stop here." Matt says, closing the book he had.

Y/N pouts, "Already?"

He chuckles, "It's been two hours. We can start back up tomorrow."

She huffs, nodding in agreement. She really didn't want him to go. "Wanna stay and watch a movie?"

He gives her a look, like he knows what's on her mind, yet still shrugs. "Sure. Let me take a quick shower first."

"Okay, I'll take one too. Just come back in here when you're done." She says.

The two get up, Matt going to his room, Y/N packing away her school supplies. She feels giddy, knowing he's coming back to her room to watch a movie with her. She quickly grabs her a change of clothes and tosses them on her bed, before heading to the bathroom down the hall. Since Matt's older, their parents agreed he could have the bedroom with the conjoined bathroom. It didn't seem fair to Y/N, but she had no say in it.

After shutting herself in the bathroom, she got her shower started and began removing her clothes. Before she could get in, soft knocks sounded through the door. She grinned to herself, knowing her and Matt are the only one's home. Without a second thought, she opens the door, revealing her fully nude body.

"Holy shit." Matt breathes, unable to keep his eyes from trailing over every inch of her. He quickly catches himself and puts a hand over his eyes. "Why wouldn't you cover up?"

"I'm about to get in the shower." She states in an obvious tone. "Need something?"

"My speaker." He states, keeping his hand firmly placed over his eyes to block his vision.

She opens the door wider, trying to let him inside. When she doesn't say anything, he peeks through his hand, only to see her still standing there, naked. His breath hitches before he closes his hand and slowly attempts to walk towards the sink with no sight. Y/N smirks, walking over to the sink and grabs the speaker for him. Unbeknownst to Matt, she's now directly in front of him. He reaches his hand out, accidentally grazing the soft skin right below her chest.

"Oh my god." He mutters, breathless. He quickly yanks his hand back, grazing over her hard nipple in the process. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be." She whispers, "I liked it."

He drops the hand covering his eyes and stares at her. His cheeks grow hotter, his dick twitching at the sight before him. She looks like a goddess. He's frozen in his spot as he towers over her. She looks so innocent, but he knows it's all an act. She can't help but clench around nothing as she gazes up at him. He's so fucking hot, staring down at her like he wants her for his next meal.

"Here you go." She says, her voice barely audible.

He quickly grabs the speaker and turns around, practically running out of the bathroom. He's got a problem that he needs to go fix. Y/N lets out a soft chuckle, returning to her previous task. She gets in the shower, washing up as she's eager to get out and have a movie night with Matt.

While Matt's in the shower, his mind keeps going back to the sight of Y/N naked in front of him. She looked so good, and it's going straight to his dick. Her plump breasts sitting just right on her chest, her nipples poking out. He just wants to grip her tits, sucking and biting all over them. He wants her thick thighs to wrap around his head as he devours her pussy, his tongue gliding all over it, inside and out. Fuck. His dick began throbbing, needy for some kind of stimulation.

After pondering for a moment, he wraps his hand around it and shudders from the sensation. Slowly, he began pumping his hand, squeezing and twisting along the way. His thumb occasionally rubs over his tip, causing him to gasp at the pleasure. His arm flexes, speeding up its pace, jerking his cock with desperation. Flashes of Y/N naked run through his mind again, egging him on. What he would do to be able to get his hands on her.

He tosses his head back, a throaty moan emitting from his mouth. Precum dribbles from his red tip, he rubs his thumb back over it, spreading it around. He can't help but think about how pretty she is, and what she would look like sprawled out for him, legs spread wide open just for him. How wet he could get her, her pretty, pink pussy dripping with arousal. Watching her clench around nothing, desperate for him to fuck her.

His grip tightens around his cock, eliciting another groan from his throat. He can feel his release coming soon. Suddenly, he's very aware that he's touching himself to his stepsister, and quickly stops.

"What am I doing?" He groans and quickly turns the faucet, the hot water instantly running ice cold as it hits him.

He shakes his head, ridding it of the naughty thoughts of the girl in the room next door. He continues on with his shower, quickly washing up just to be in the same room as her again.

Once Y/N finishes her shower, she shuts the water off and wraps herself in her towel. Turning the light off, she heads back to her room. When she notices Matt's bedroom door open, she slows her pace, strutting pass the room. Inside, Matt sees her and feels his stomach tighten. That shower was no good for him, having denied himself of his incoming orgasm, he's now on edge. The way her body is covered in pellets of water, each drop glistening in the hallway light, only makes it harder on him.

When Y/N gets to her room, she quickly dries off and tosses her towel in the hamper. She slips on a clean thong, topping her bottom with the smallest pair of shorts she owns. Lastly, she pulls on small baby tee, purposely not wearing a bra. Just as she pulls it over her head, a couple of knocks sound through her door before it slowly opens.

"You decent this time?" Matt asks, and that's when she notices his eyes are closed.

She giggles, "Yes, Matthew."

"Just making sure." He chuckles, "Don't want a repeat of earlier?"

"You don't?" She asks in a seductive tone, her eyes submissively staring up into his.

He goes to respond, but no words come out. His mouth runs dry as he gazes down at her. He can see her nipples poking through her shirt and he just wants to wrap his lips around them.

He clears his throat, "Don't do that."

"Don't do what?" She whispers, stepping closer to him.

She can see him gulp, nervous from their close proximity. Even though he tries to hide it, she knows what he wants. She can practically see the sweat dripping down his forehead. Her hand runs up his arm, goosebumps rising along with it. Unfortunately for her, he takes a step back.

"That." He forces out. "Don't do that."

She shrugs, a smile playing on her lips. She motions to her bed, letting him pass her to take a seat. He sits on the left side, leaning against the headboard as he lays his legs out. She saunters over to her dresser that her TV sits on, bending over to make sure it's plugged in, even though she knows it is. She just wants to tease him.

And it works. Matt's breath catches in his throat for what feels like the millionth time tonight. His eyes burning holes into her behind. The shorts she's wearing leave nothing to imagine as they ride up her ass, hugging her center that peeks from between her legs. Imagining his cock prod against her entrance, he feels himself growing beneath his sweatpants. Matt quickly grabs one of her extra pillows and places it on his lap, folding his hands on top of it. When Y/N turns around, she instantly notices the pillow and smirks to herself, knowing what he's hiding.

She gets on the right side of the bed, but lies on her stomach at the opposite end, her feet closer to the top of the bed and her head at the end. Her hand takes the remote and flicks through Netflix, browsing for something to watch. Matt stares at the TV intently, forcing himself to keep his eyes there instead of wandering like they so badly want to.

"This, okay?" She asks, glancing back at him.

He nods, not caring what they watch for he won't be able to pay attention to it.

Y/N clicks play and lets the fun begin. Matt's eyes involuntarily fall to her plump ass that's basically in his face. He wants to reach out and grip the plush skin, massaging it. He can't help but imagine himself removing her clothing and spreading her cheeks, letting a long string of saliva fall in between and drip down her core. He imagines himself rubbing her folds, mixing his spit in with her own juices, his fingers putting pressure wherever she needs it. He thinks about the erotic sounds she would make from his touches. His dirty thoughts only cause his dick to grow even more.

Suddenly, Y/N hitches her left leg up, her knee now beside her waist, perfectly exposing her clothed pussy. Matt has to suppress the moan that threatens to leave his mouth from the sight. She's driving him crazy. Y/N subtly shifts her hips, and Matt can't take his eyes away. The piece of clothing that is supposed to cover her up isn't doing a very great job, seeing as it's now pulled to the side a bit, revealing the smallest glimpse of her pussy.

Without thinking, Matt slides his hand underneath the pillow and grasps at his clothed cock. He's rock hard already. He slightly palms himself, his eyes boring into the girl lying in front of him.

"Not really sure I'm getting into this." Y/N's voice suddenly rings through the air, causing Matt to halt his movement as they lock eyes.

"D-do you want to put on something else?" He asks, his breath rather choppy.

She rolls onto her back, putting her knees up so she's spread just for him. "Or we could just talk."

Matt can't tear his eyes away from her center, yearning to remove the fabric covering it and dive in. He licks his lips, his teeth tugging on bottom one as he tries to control himself.

"Come down here with me." She speaks, pulling him from his thoughts.

He takes a deep breath before crawling down beside her. He lays on his side to prevent himself from crushing his hard on. He props himself up on his elbow, his hand holding his head as he faces her. She turns to look at him and smiles.

"Do you think we would've ever met if our parents never got together?" She asks.

"I don't know. Maybe." He answers, his eyes never leaving her face.

"We do go to the same school." She adds, "I'd like to think we would've."

He whispers back, "Me too."

She takes his free hand and plays with his fingers. He's desperately trying to make his erection go away, but to no avail, it's as hard as ever. Luckily for him, she hasn't noticed it. Yet.

"Do you ever wish our parents never met?" She questions, staring deeply into his eyes, trying to read every emotion.

"I don't know. Do you?"

She sighs, dropping his hand which so happens to fall on her chest. He tenses but can't bring himself to pull away. He can feel her heartbeat below his palm, the heat of her skin engulfing his hand. She loves the feeling of his hand on her, but still wishes the piece of clothing wasn't keeping them from being skin to skin.

She moves her leg slightly, accidentally brushing against his dick. His breathing comes to a stop from the contact, and he prays she doesn't feel how hard he is, but she does. However, she chooses not to speak on it. She only grins to herself as she moves her leg back to where it was, her heels below her ass, her center on show. After thinking for a second, she brings her hand down and places it on his cock, causing him to gasp.

"What are you doing?"

"Hmm?" She hums, innocently.

"W-what are you doing?" He repeats.

She locks eyes with him, "Do you want me to stop?"

His mouth parts as she begins to palm him. His eyes flutter close for just a second before they open and his hand wraps around her wrist. "No, but you probably should."

Despite what he says, he doesn't move her hand. She grabs him through his sweats, moving in a jerking motion. He bites down on his bottom lip, desperate to not make a sound, but the slightest touch from her feels so good. With her free hand, she removes his hand that’s on her wrist and moves it to her core.

"Fuck." He groans, feeling the heat of her on his hand.

"Want to?" She smirks, causing his eyes to widen.

"W-we can't." He stutters, shaking his head.

She only continues palming him through his sweatpants. "Then why haven't you moved your hand?"

"Because I don't want to." He chokes out, applying pressure to her pussy.

She lets a small moan slip, enjoying the feeling. The noise she lets out seems to go right through him, because he's suddenly pressing down harder as he cups her, eliciting another delicious sound from her. As if he can't help it, he's rubbing his palm into her, causing her to buck her hips. Her grip on his covered cock tightens, desperate to make him feel good.

"We shouldn't be doing this." He grunts out, thrusting into her hand.

She moans as he continues rubbing her through her shorts. "Then stop."

"I can't." He croaks out, suddenly hovering over her with his crotch pressed into hers. "You drive me fucking crazy."

With that, he smashes his lips onto hers in a hot and needy kiss. He grinds down into her, moans coming from both of them. His hand grips her throat as he tilts his head, deepening the kiss. He thrusts into her again, causing her to gasp from the sensation. He takes the opportunity to shove his tongue in her mouth, exploring it. Their tongues dance together, soft and wet.

His mouth moves from hers and onto her neck. Her breathing grows erratic as she pants in his ear, the feeling of his lips working her sensitive skin getting the best of her. She's been waiting for this moment ever since she laid eyes on him.

He can't get enough of her. Her honey vanilla scent floods his senses as he buries his face into the crook of her neck. Her soft skin tastes sweet under his tongue as he licks and sucks the skin. His teeth graze over it, nibbling down to leave behind bruises. He continues down her shoulder, leaving open mouthed kisses. He leaves a wet trail of saliva in his wake, Y/N moaning at the feeling.

"God, I want you so bad." He moans against her as his sucks on her collarbone.

"T-take me." She breathes out, arching her back into him.

He lifts up her shirt, revealing her supple breasts. It only takes a mere second for his mouth to return to her, licking up from her navel to the valley of her breasts. She continuously whines underneath him. His mouth licks down her boob, taking her nipple in his mouth and harshly sucking on it. His hands run up her body, caressing all over her curves. His fingers tweak her opposite nipple, pinching it, eliciting a high-pitched moan from her.

"Sound so fucking pretty." He groans, moving his mouth to the opposite nipple, trading places with his hand.

She suddenly pushes him back, sitting up while doing so. He looks at her with a questioning glance. She quickly removes her shirt, so, he does the same. As soon as the pieces of clothing hit the floor, she's pressed back into the bed with him on top of her, their lips reuniting. Their kiss is feverish, teeth clashing, panting into one another's mouths.

"Are we really doing this?" He breathes.

"Please." She begs in a whine. "I need you, Matthew."

His eyes practically roll back into his head from the sound of her moaning his name. His fingers poke into the waistband of her shorts, swiftly pulling them and her panties down in one go. Yanking them off of her feet, he tosses them aside. Spreading her legs, he groans at the sight between them. Just as he expected.

Her pretty pink pussy glistens with juices, clenching, ready to be filled. His hands wrap around the outside of her thighs, his lips meeting the inner parts. He trails soft kisses along the skin, fueling her arousal. His lips nip at her thighs, teasing her, leaving her whining for more.

"Fuck, don't tease." She pleads, bucking her hips.

He chuckles, before finally complying, eager to taste her. He pokes his tongue out, dragging it from her sopping entrance up to her aching clit, pulling a long moan from her mouth. His tongue glides over every inch of her pussy, sucking in her juices.

"God, you taste so fucking good, baby."

Her hands grip his hair, tugging as she arches her back at his words. He moans into her center, sending vibrations through her body. He wraps his lips around her clit, sucking on it softly. His hand trails up her thigh, inching closer to her core. His mouth pulls away, peppering kisses along her thigh as his fingers glide through her lips.

Her skin is on fire beneath his touch. The way his hands massage into her, the way his mouth devours her. She's on cloud nine. Her stomach tightens, her orgasm building quickly as he continues working on her. She's hot below him, panting out every second. Her mind is hazy, fogged with arousal.

Suddenly, he shoves a finger into her, causing her to gasp from the shock. His finger pumps in and out of her, causing her legs to shake as the tense feeling in her stomach grows stronger. His mouth moves back to her clit, flicking his tongue on it over and over. She clenches her thighs around him, her orgasm hitting her out of nowhere. Continuous waves of pleasure wash over her as she trembles underneath him, her juices spilling out of her. He doesn't stop. He keeps going, adding another finger to her soaked entrance.

"S-shit, Matt. Too much." She cries out, pushing his head away.

"Fuck, I can't help it. You taste so good." He sighs, licking her fluids from his lips.

He pulls his hand away from her pussy, bringing his fingers to her mouth, and hungrily sucking them, desperate to taste more of her. He hovers back over her, slamming his lips onto hers once again, the remnants of her still on his lips. She can't help but moan into the kiss, already needing more.

"Want to feel you inside me." She breathes against his mouth.

"Thought it was too much?" He teases, causing her to push him back.

His head hits the pillows at the top of the bed, and she crawls on top of him, straddling his legs. She pulls at his sweatpants, pulling them and his boxers down. He lifts his hips to assist her, allowing her to fully remove them. She slides higher up, hovering over his member. She grabs his dick beneath her, stroking it a few times, before lining it up with her entrance and sinking down on it.

"Oh my god." He moans, tossing his head back.

Y/N leans forward, her face buried in his chest as she breathes heavily. She leaves soft kisses over his torso as she adjusts to his size. She sits back up, placing her hands on his chest for support. Slowly, she begins to rock against him, both of them lowly moaning from the feeling. His hands meet her hips, helping her move. They trail down to her ass, gripping it and lifting it up, pulling it back down onto her. Her pussy clenches around him, her juices lubricating her enough to slide up and down as she bounces.

"Feel so good." She whines, her eyes squeezing shut.

He licks his lips as he takes in her appearance, indulging in the way she looks as she takes all of him. Her boobs bounce up and down with every movement. He can't help but take them in his hands, kneading them in his palms. He bites his bottom lip as he thrusts deep into her, hitting the spongey spot that drives her insane. Her mouth falls open and her eyebrows furrow.

His hands wrap around her back, pulling her flush against his chest, and thrusts up into her repeatedly. Lewd moans continuously emit from her mouth, her body shaking above his. He groans beneath her, loving the way she wraps around him so perfectly. His hand grasps her jaw, pulling her face to his. He studies it for a moment, taking in the way the pleasure consumes her. Within seconds, his lips are capturing hers in a sloppy kiss.

His strokes speed up, leaving her body convulsing. She can't help the outpour of moans at this point. Tears well up in her eyes, the pleasure building up quickly. His thrusts grow erratic, his orgasm reaching its peak. With a loud groan, he's spilling his nut into her, coating her walls. The feeling of his warm, gooey seed filling her up causes her to let go, cumming all over his dick.

"Oh my god." They both moan in unison, causing them to breathily laugh together.

She falls against his torso, wore out from their activities. He runs his hands up her back and into her hair, gathering it and pulling it to one side and placing a few kisses on her exposed neck. On shaky knees, she lifts herself from him and falls to his side.

"That was insane." He breathes.

"Yeah." She agrees, a smile playing on her lips. "Can't wait to do it again."

The two look at each other with goofy grins on their faces before Matt leans over her from the side, wrapping his arms around her as he places his lips on hers once more.

"We're home!" A voice calls out from the opposite side of the house, causing them to look at one another with wide eyes. They quickly scramble to get dressed, laughter pouring out of them as they scurry to hide their previous activities and act normal.

—

a/n : i’ll take one pls thank u. enjoy xxx

#lustfulslxt #joss speaks #sturniolo triplets #sturniolos #the sturniolos #matt sturniolo #imagine #sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x me #matthew sturniolo x you #matthew sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #step siblings #IT’S NOT INCEST #FIGHT ME IF YOU MAD

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paperclipninja · 6 months

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I can't believe I forgot one of the most significant moments (imo) when I was mulling over duality etc here, and that is when Crowley goes up to Heaven to try and figure out what's going on. Actually, it's more than just multiple layers of truth. Yes there are a couple of truths at play, but as an audience we are given SO much information in this scene that it's almost hard to take it all in so I'm going to try and lay it out.

Here is what we learn in the whole scene:

Crowley knows that Muriel is a scrivener, including that they're 37th class. How?? Up until Crowley tricking Muriel into taking him to Heaven, there'd been no conversation about their angelic status

Crowley has a solid understanding of the way Heaven works and how to get around it (bees/once you're in, that they never change passwords etc)

Crowley has access to high level files

Saraqael seems to have a fondness? towards Crowley and allows him to view the trial, let's him know what happened and tells Muriel off but also not really

We get all the info about Gabriel and what happened

That Heaven wipes memories when demoting angels

When the alarm goes off because Aziraphale uses his halo, Crowley declares 'let's get back there' and directs Saraqael, 'you too' and they follow without question (though Crowley's original plan may have been to go and get Heavenly reinforcement but still, interesting the way he takes control and they just listen)

So the overarching duality in this scene - yes it is hilarious, the way Crowley gets Muriel to take him to Heaven in the first place and of course this whole situation:

but it's also an incredible act of love.

The entire season establishes unmistakably that Crowley has some very real trauma from his experience of being in Heaven as Aziraphale and cast into the hellfire, highlighted through his reactions to JimGabriel. Not to mention his history with Heaven and all that.

So in trying to come up with a solution to the demons attacking the bookshop, knowing that Heaven no longer have any real interest in helping Aziraphale, he willingly goes up there, the place he has made his feelings about very clear, to try and find some answers.

Yes this is a demonstration of Crowley's love for Aziraphale but it's also a demonstration of his love of humans and humanity. He puts aside his own feelings, takes a real risk (because he couldn't have known how any of the senior angels might respond to him being there...could he? Or what if the Metatron had seen him there? That's another pondering for another day...) and goes to the one place he has outright said he doesn't want to go back to, just to try and find a way to protect the humans and help Aziraphale.

THIS, to me, is the entire crux of where this is all heading. It's exactly the same reason Aziraphale gets in that lift. At the end of the day, Crowley and Aziraphale love humanity and want to protect it, even if it means risking themselves.

The multiple truths of this scene actually create a distraction I think. The humour of Crowley's outfit and little prancy toes make us think this is a light and funny moment, while we're also delighted by his subversion of Heavens 'rules' and processes and the revelations about Gabriel. It is both funny and informative. It does give us hints about Crowley's past while moving the current story forward.

But I think it's easy to miss the actions here, and that is that Crowley, who was cast out of Heaven, witnessed the ease with which they continue to cast angels into hellfire, saw the callousness of the Supreme Archangel as he condemned his best friend to no longer exist, put aside all he's witnessed and experienced because of love.

This is a love story. The love story of an angel and a demon, yes, but the love story of two entities, hereditary enemies, who fall in love with humanity and whose love for one another will give them the strength to protect it. At least, that's my take on it anyway :)

#good omens #good omens meta #crowley #aziraphale #I just have a lot of feelings right now #aziracrow #this is a love story

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lucidreamer-uwu · 2 years

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Being their seatmate: Dateables Edition I

Link to Part 1: Brothers Edition

Diavolo

Would try his very best to set an example and not talk to you during class but ends up striking a conversation anyway.

Can he copy your notes? He didn't catch that last part. And by last part he means half the lesson.

Gifted you a fountain pen once as an anonymous admirer and thought he was being so sneaky about it leaving it on your desk, telling you that it was there when he got there.

Wiggles his way out of trouble until Barbatos finds out and scolds both of you.

He absolutely loves the idea of passing notes and makes it extremely obvious that you two do it. He gets too excited and makes major reactions to each note you send him too.

Likes teaching you things you don't understand.

Barbatos

Another Mr perfect.

Has the cleanest most organized notes.

His desk is always neat and tidy.

Offers to teach you how to arrange your things too.

Will bring you surprise water bottles of his freshly brewed tea when he starts noticing how you can't focus for too long and get burnt out. He says the tea will especially increase focus and brain attentiveness, which you greatly appreciate.

I have a feeling that he'd watch you panic and suffer for a few minutes when you forget your pen or a sheet of paper or a notebook before he lends you one of his spares. Unlike Satan though, he doesn't intentionally bring extra supplies exclusively for you, he just does because he's Barbatos.

Will tell you not to pass him notes before you even write a single word.

I bet he'd rat you out for talking with or passing notes to anyone other than himself just because he doesn't want you to. If you did talk to him however, he'd still encourage you to pay attention. But that doesn't mean you can tend to others other than him! He finds it unpleasant to see others satisfying you when it should be him doing that.

Simeon

Alternates from being the one asking for a spare pen and lending you a spare pen.

He accepts and reads the notes you pass him but he only smiles as acknowledgement and doesn't write back because he's trying to set an example :((

Angelic handwriting

Likes to play with or hold your hand to keep him motivated and focused. His hands are warm and super comforting too!

Torn between wanting to sit next to you and not because when he does sit with you, he notices that he often ends up staring at you more than he listens to the lessons and focuses on his tasks. You're his biggest distraction and motivation.

Once when you had free time during class, you taught him how to make paper airplanes and he is obsessed with them. Consequently, he got really into origami and starts to gift you with paper flowers whenever you had class together. Different origami figures will be waiting on your desk every time you had class.

Doesn't remember to put his phone on silent so you help him every time.

He smells like a bakery.

Luke

Brings you sweets that he makes every once in a while.

Has cute stationary.

This boy is the living breathing sunshine of the Devildom so he is more than enough to keep you from drifting off to sleep. Heck he even motivates you to do better without saying a thing!

You both tutor each other and help the other out.

Positive vibes all around ~ ! But will rant every now and then about Mammon calling him names again.

Offers to help you with homework after class.

Would doodle cute drawings on scratch paper that you give him.

Solomon

Interested in every lesson in class so he is focused and is surprisingly quiet despite you trying to chat.

Mischief when he doesn't pay attention in class. You two try to get away with your shenanigans. Being the only humans, you guys felt like you'd been friends for forever. So you have a lot of inside jokes about human world things.

The witty sorcerer WILL try to get you in trouble at times when you two are messing around. He will make noises like fake coughs or just flat out calling the professor's attention for bogus reasons when you try passing him notes. And you do the same with him.

Both of you struggle to understand Devildom lessons so you do wholesome study sessions with each other.

If he gets to class first, he will purposely sit on two seats, his own and yours, just to tease you. He'd say that it's taken and that you had to find another seat. When you give up fighting for your seat back and pulled up an extra chair, you find that he is seated properly in his own seat acting all sheepish and innocent. He's done this childishly more times that you're willing to admit honestly.

You are often his shield from Thirteen's trap attacks. And he feels NO SHAME whatsoever using you like that. He do you dirty >:c

But he'd offer to make it up to you after class every single time.

Will let you lay your head on his shoulder in case you're tired. And may or may not pull little teasing pranks on you while he's at it.

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mins-fins · 1 year

Text

a motherfuckin' trainwreck — yeon sieun

yeon sieun x gender neutral!reader

requested : !

warnings : might be a little ooc (?)

sieun is literally the awkwardest of awkward people

he doesn't even know how he actually got into a relationship is he’s being honest

he's weird about affection too

not like in a "oh i'll kill you if you touch me" kinda way but in a "oh my god your hugging me what do i do?" kinda way

whenever you give him hugs he kinda just stands there, confused

but he loves holding hands

and linking arms probably

your basically the only one who can distract him from studying too much and he pretends to hate it but can't hide how grateful he is

sieun struggles to voice his feelings and he's grateful with how patient you are with him

he probably sometimes still uses platonic words to address you and you just go "wow, friendzoning me after all we've been through?" he would roll his eyes, but he still loves you

your probably on his mind all day

while he's in class he's probably wondering "oh how's [name] doing?", "is [name] alright?", "is [name] happy?"

will literally always sleep on you if he's tired

laying on your shoulder or lap

he's SOOO clingy but then he'll deny it???

"sieun you know your super clingy right?" "stop lying, [name]".

your love language is physical touch and sieun's is probably words of affirmation

oh he LOOVES complimenting you

he just finds everything about you admiring and can't resist the urge to compliment you whenever he gets

"you have nice eyes, [name]", "you know your super pretty right?", "i can't believe how i'm dating such an amazing person".

sometimes he does it without even realizing

and you go so red which he laughs at

despite that sieun isn't the greatest at taking compliments himself

whenever you compliment him he freezes and goes red, not being able to respond

"sieun, your so smart, i can't even begin to rant about how great you are".

"uh huh" sieun.exe.has stopped working

sieun is so confident about the relationship despite how quiet he is??

like he'll hear someone talking bad about you in front of him and he'll say something like "that's my partner, watch your mouth".

he probably gets jealous so easily too

like he just loves your attention and when it's on someone else whose so random

he'll glare from afar

and then you'll ask him later like- "why were you glaring earlier?"

he would probably lie but then say, "fine i was jealous".

then you'd laugh and tease him about it as long as possible

sieun probably helps you study too

he gets so annoyed by you doing everything but listening to him so he literally has to force you to

"[name] can you pay attention?", "no, i'm too busy staring at your pretty face", "shut up".

your literally always at his house

his parents are barely home so you basically live there at this point

"sieun, your beds so comfy", "don't mess up my pillows, [name]".

you probably sleep on him too

like- you'll be laying on his shoulder as he finishes his math work for the night

and you'll have to force him to stop so he could get at least 5 hours of sleep

your probably one of the only people whose made sieun smile more than once in a day (sorry suho)

he hates your stupid jokes but smiles anyway because he loves you so much it's hard not to

he has a habit of running his finger up and down your arm, it's basically become a routine for him

HIS EYES OH MY GOD HIS EYES- he always stares at you with this majestic look

they're always on you if not on that damn paper all the time

he could simply go on and on about you and your interests and how amazing you are and how much he loves you

AND he's such an AMAZING LISTENER too like he remembers all of your interests, pet peeves, what you like, what you hate, your icks, everything

you guys probably listen to music together <333

your the only person who knows the music in his playlist

you read together too

whenever you guys read dramatic books you always give an over-the-top reaction whilst he just stares at you like your insane

"OH MY GOD SHE KILLED HIM!?", "yeah.. that's what it says, [name]".

he's probably just super calm and your super overdramatic

you guys are like the jumpy extrovert x calm introvert trope

you'll be jumping around and full of energy whilst he holds onto you so you don't get lost

he lets you clean his scars and treat his wounds since he likes when you do it

on rare occasions he likes to ramble about just random things and he's so cute when he does it too

like- he'll be going on about his interests and you just sit there staring at him lovingly

you guys are literally opposites attract

sieun being the "grumpy" and reserved introvert whilst your the jumpy and energetic extrovert

i love grumpy x sunshine tropes can you tell??

you always buy him food

making sure to feed him too

you always struggle with that though

"sieun you have to eat", "no i have to study [name]".

he still will eat for you though

sometimes he just likes to lean on his hand and admire you

just stare at you

probably thinking about how pretty you are in his head

he sometimes unconsciously smiles while thinking about you

he just loves you very very much

#weak hero class 1 #yeon si eun #yeon sieun x reader #weak hero #weak hero headcanons #gender neutral reader #scenarios #weak hero scenarios

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enchxanting · 1 year

Text

our love is god [ethan landry] pt. 3

read part 2 here || all parts

pairing: ethan landry x fem!reader

warnings: angst, alcohol abuse, partying, slight physical altercation (v v minor)

a/n: bro this chapter is so long i literally can't help myself when it comes to angst. i promised ethan content last chapter and i will continue to deliver! also ik the formatting is weird on mobile but I cannot be bothered to fix it my b!!

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To say that the car ride is tense would be a gross understatement. It would be more apt to call it torture.

Chad hates listening to the radio when he drives, so we sit in silence. Tara lays claim to the passenger’s seat, so Anika, Mindy, and I cram into the back. It’s claustrophobic without a real middle seat, Mindy perched in the divide.

My breathing becomes shallower, but I can’t tell if it’s caused by the recycled air or the tension between Tara and me. This car ride is never going to end.

Until, miraculously, it does. Chad parks across the street from an unassuming two-story house. We pile out, and I can finally breathe again, reveling in the cool night air.

After I’ve calmed down, I chase after Tara. “Hey, Tar, wait. Can we talk?”

Her brow furrows slightly. “What, Y/N?”

“I don’t want there to be any, um, weird vibe between us tonight. I know earlier was tough, and Sam can be overbearing but she cares about you, and I…” I trail off. I can tell this isn’t working.

Tara avoids my gaze. “It’s fine, Y/N, seriously. Let’s just have fun, okay?”

I want to try again, but she turns on her heels and walks away, catching up to Chad. Nowhere else to go, I trail behind them, following their lead through a side door into the building.

There are people everywhere, way more than I was expecting for a community college party. They’re scattered throughout the first floor, arranged haphazardly in a mess of armchairs, mismatched sofas, and various surfaces that are now being used for beer pong. I look for a familiar face in the crowd, but I’ve already lost my friends.

Now alone, I decide it’s a better time than any to drink my feelings away. I reach into a nearby cooler, not caring what comes up. It’s terrible beer, but I don’t super care right now. All I want is to forget about the way Tara looked at me during her fight with Sam.

I find an empty corner and watch the crowd. Even though this is a small town, I don’t recognize many people. I see a few kids who could be in my class, people I might have forged an absence for, but no one I’ve had a real conversation with. I keep scanning the crowd until I realize who I’m really looking for: Ethan. Ethan-who-I-haven’t-actually-met-yet-Ethan. My face goes red, and I know I must look like an idiot standing in the corner and blushing to myself.

I’m distracted from my daydreams by Tara and Chad, who move into the unofficial dance floor. She’s feeling herself, clearly slightly tipsy already (I don’t know how, considering we’ve been here for all of 10 minutes). I drink some more of my beer as I watch them dance together. As she loses herself in the music, I notice how intently Chad is watching her, a shy smile creeping onto his face. I laugh quietly. How did I miss that?

Tara doesn’t seem to notice his obvious infatuation. She dances towards the cooler I pulled my beer from, finding one of her own. I watch in mixed horror and amazement as she downs half the can. I guess she wasn’t kidding about getting shitfaced, then.

I’m suddenly overcome by melancholy– not atypical when I’m kinda drunk. Tonight, though, after the mess with Tara and the long car ride, it feels shittier than usual. There are too many people here, my feet hurt from standing, and the music is too loud. I need to get the hell out of here. But Chad’s my ride, and he’s not leaving Tara anytime soon. With no other option, I head upstairs.

It takes me five tries to find a room that’s unlocked, but I eventually stumble my way into a small guest room, locking the door behind me. I close my eyes and take a few deep breaths.

“Uh– sorry. I can leave?”

My eyes snap open as quickly as they shut. You’ve got to be kidding me.

Reclining on the bed is none other than Ethan fucking Landry. I can’t decide whether to thank God or curse him.

“Oh, shit, no, it’s fine, sorry– you’re good,” I say. “I just, um, just needed a quiet place to hide for a little and this room was unlocked but if you’re here already it’s chill–”

“No, no, you’re good. I was doing the same thing.” He nervously runs a hand through his curls, and it’s so endearing that my heart skips a beat. “You can, um… you could stay? I don’t mind.” He scoots over, making room for me.

I know what I’d usually do here– make a polite excuse and hide in a bathroom– but between my desperation for reprieve and the liquid courage from earlier, I feel like trying something else.

So, I join him, kicking off my shoes and sitting against the backboard. “Thanks,” I say. “I really, really need a break.”

He chuckles a little. “Don’t mention it, really. I’m Ethan.”

“Oh, I know.” Holy shit. Why the fuck did I say that?

His eyes widen a little. “Wait, really? How?”

I search for an acceptable answer. “Um, my friend Mindy said that she had American History with you. Not a lot of new kids around here besides me, especially not right after spring break, so… I looked you up?”

He smirks slightly. “Huh, stalker much?” I open my mouth to protest, but he cuts me off. “It’s okay, I, um, ‘looked you up’ too. After lunch today. Just… curious, I guess.”

We both laugh a little at this. It’s exciting to know that he’s interested in me, too. I’ve never had any guys reciprocate that kind of thing.

“So, what did you hope to find?” he asks. “What do you want to know?”

I pause. “Everything, I guess. Why’d you come here, in the middle of the year?”

“Dad got transferred. He’s a cop, a detective, but they wanted to replace him in his department. They couldn’t fire him without a bunch of legal shit involved, so they transferred him here.”

“Good fucking luck,” I laugh. “This town doesn’t have the cleanest crime record.”

“Eh, I’m used to it,” he says. “We’ve moved around all my life… Dallas, Baton Rouge, Vegas, Sacramento… Woodsboro.”

“Jesus. Who’s we?”

“My sister and I. Quinn. She’s actually the reason I’m here– she’s taking some classes during her gap year. Trying to apply to bigger colleges. I would usually never come to this sort of thing, which is why I’m, uh, hiding upstairs.

“Me either,” I say. “My friends dragged me here. Tara picked out this outfit and everything. I feel so weird.”

His eyes drift over me. “I mean… I think you look really good?”

I meet his gaze. The tension between us is suddenly real– it’s almost suffocating. All I can think about is how much I want to kiss him, and I’ve almost made up my mind to do it when I hear a commotion from down the hall.

I pull away, concerned. There’s a second of something dark on his face before it’s replaced with his typical bashful demeanor. “What do you think that was?” he asks.

As much as I want to stay here with him, something tells me I need to see what’s wrong. “I don’t know, we should go look.”

I open the door to a disturbing sight. Some guy has a visibly intoxicated Tara by the arm. Chad, Anika, and Mindy are following him as he tries to take her into one of the rooms. My heart sinks and my palms go sweaty. I feel sick– I can’t let this happen. As he walks through the hall, I get in his way. “Hey, man, let her go. She’s done for the night.”

Tara drunkenly puts her arm on my shoulder. “No, no, Y/N, it’s okay. I’m good.”

The guy sneers at me. “Yeah, dude, we’re good.”

There is no way in hell I am letting this happen. “No, ‘dude,’ we’re not good. Let her go. Trust me. You don’t want this.” I motion to my friends behind us, who all look ready to get messy.

The guy falters, muttering something sounding suspiciously similar to “whatever, bitch,” and lets Tara go. I watch him walk away before turning back to Tara. “Oh my god, Tar, are you okay? I can’t believe that.”

I expect a hug, a thank-you, or maybe just a smile. The stinging of her hand against my cheek is shocking, to say the least.

“What the fuck, Y/N?” she says. “I can’t believe you did that, you fucking embarrassed me!”

I rub my cheek. “Are you kidding, Tara? That guy was a dick, he was going to take advantage of you!”

“So fucking what?” She’s yelling now. “If I want to hook up with an asshole, that’s my decision. Or, or, if I want to argue with my sister over some dumb party, I’ll do it, and I don’t need anyone’s opinion. Don’t pretend like you know shit about me or my life, because you don’t. You think you can show up here after what happened last year and act like you know any of us that lived it, but you don’t, Y/N. You fucking don’t! So leave me alone, and stay out of my fucking business.”

I’m frozen. I don’t know if I’m feeling more hurt, angry, embarrassed, or just plain sad. For her to say those things, to, in some way, confirm my biggest fears about Woodsboro… I don’t know. I don’t know what to say or do.

But Tara doesn’t wait for me to figure it out. She stumbles away, pushing past Chad, Mindy, and Anika. The twins rush after her, presumably worried about her ability to stand straight. Anika lingers for a second, giving me a pitying look and mouthing “I’m so sorry” before running off.

Though I understand their actions (Tara is drunker than I am, more unpredictable, and more likely to get hurt) their absence still stings. My eyes well with hot tears. Everything is out of control.

I turn around to compose myself and notice Ethan standing in the doorway. “Are you okay, Y/N?” he says.

Sweet, shy, Ethan. His big brown eyes are looking straight at mine for the first time that night– it makes me shiver.

All I want is to get out of this house. Leave. With him.

So I ask him, “Do you want to get out of here?”

#ethan landry #ethan landry x y/n #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry fanfiction #scream 2023 #scream 6 #heathers #heathers au #high school au #jack champion

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h-c-u · 1 year

Text

Showing the ropes.

Summary: You're away at a conference at a different timezone, and Maverick is a bit tied up at work.

Pairing: Pete "Maverick" Mitchell x reader

W/C: 2.2k

Rating: +18, phone sex, bondage, butt plugs, dom/sub,

TWs: Bodily Fluids

A/N: No plot. Not even if you squint your eyes and turn your head to the left. And yeah, I'm on the sub!Maverick train again xD Also, I'm definitely not admitting to what I was listening to while I was writing it, but let's just say, I discovered a whole new side of Spotify.

Masterlist | List of tags

You couldn't help but smile when you saw a familiar name and a picture showing up on your phone. You were already done with today's courses and planning to take a nice, relaxing bath after being on your feet for almost 10 hours, so you definitely didn't mind talking to your husband for a minute or two. Especially when you realized that he was calling from work because it would have been too early for him to be off duty. And that only meant one thing...

- Please... - his pleading whisper was the first thing you've heard.

- No hello, no "how was your day?"...? - you didn't try to hide the disappointment in your voice, and he groaned on the other side of the line. - Such a desperate slut... Putting his own needs above basic social etiquette... - you sighed loudly.

- I need to take everything off and out... I have to fly with the class... - well, at least he wasn't stupid enough to ask you to cum, because you were very clear about him not being allowed to do that on his own while you were away. And yet he called you...

- Hmmm... You know that in situations of life and death, you can do what's best, but you called me... I advise you to think about your next words carefully. Does the harness impact your moves in any way, putting you or anyone else in any danger? Be honest, I won't be mad, I just want the truth, because I don't want anything to happen to my sweet boy... - he was silent for almost half a minute.

- No... - he whispered finally.

- Does it distract you so much that you wouldn't be able to focus on what you're doing and by so, putting yourself or others in danger? - you continued the interrogation.

- No, ma'am... - he replied and you could almost taste the shame coming from the other end of the call.

- How about the plug, does it make it uncomfortable to sit in the jet...? - you suspected that it was it because you instructed him to choose one of the biggest ones you had.

- No, ma'am... - he repeated, but you still were able to tell that something was off.

- Does it distract you so much that you're having trouble focusing...?

- Yes, ma'am... - his voice barely a whisper, yet it rang pleasurably inside your head.

- Tell me exactly how it distracts you... - oh, it was going to be so much fun... You leaned back in your chair and put your leg on the edge of the desk.

- It puts constant pressure on my g-spot... And I can't sit or suddenly move without leaking... I had to put on a cage as well, ma'am... - you couldn't help but hum, but you haven't decided yet if it was something you approved of.

- I didn't tell you to do that. - your tone was as neutral as possible because you were planning to react to his reaction.

- I'm sorry, ma'am, but I was so hard it was too visible through my pants. And I changed them to darker ones, so the leaking wouldn't be as visible... - even after all those years, he could still surprise you. He was willingly putting himself in more pain, just so he could follow the instructions you left him to the best of his ability.

- I'll let it slide this time... But let's come back to that plug - where are you? - you asked, and slowly slipped one of your fingers in between your folds, gently teasing your clit in anticipation of the obscene sounds you were about to hear.

- In my office. - he replied even before you finished asking the question.

- Doors? - after all, he was still a high-ranking member of the military. Who was occasionally your perfect little whore.

- Closed. - he was indeed prepared.

- Hmmm... How long do you have? - his response would determine your next course of action.

- About 15-20 minutes, ma'am. - that last word put a smile on your face. You never liked the word 'mistress', it was too dirty for your liking, but a well-placed ma'am from his mouth... You could get drunk on it.

- Harness stays, but we're going to do something about that plug, love... So you will still be able to think in the air... How does that sound?

- Thank you, ma'am. - you could feel the obvious relief in his voice. You knew that he knew that if he truly had to take everything off and out, you wouldn't even mention it.

But he called.

He wanted you to listen to his whining while he was putting on a show, like a stripper begging for attention...

- Don't take it out entirely just yet... I want you to fuck yourself on it and make all those beautiful little noises so that everyone can hear what a slut you are. And if you help me cum before you'll have to go, I might even let you finish too... - you didn't have to be there to know exactly what his face looked like. - Chop, chop, we don't have all day... - you smiled and patiently waited as he put the phone on his desk. You could hear the zipper of his pants opening and you knew exactly when he took off his underwear because you could hear a light jingle of the small paddle lock that was keeping the chastity cage locked. - Slowly... - you didn't have to say it, because he knew what was expected of him.

At first, there was a slight groan, that told you he started to pull out the plug and got to the widest part. After all those hours without moving it, you knew that his muscles weren't as stretched as in the morning and that it would be more painful for him. You also knew from the experience, that there was still lube inside him, so as soon as he'd start moving it a bit more, everything will become more pleasurable.

He moaned loudly and you could just say that the plug went back in and rubbed this sweet bundle of nerves inside him, that made him sing so beautifully. He slowly picked up the pace, and so did you. His moans became more needy and desperate with every second and you just loved to hear them... And the soft cries in between them when he was actively stopping himself from cumming. You could almost see the long line of precum slowly heading towards the carpeted floors from his swollen and locked in a metal cage penis, and if you were there you would have definitely licked it, just to hear him get even more desperate.

- Faster... - you didn't have to say anything more... You were leaning back in your chair, two fingers inside you, while your thumb intensely massaged your clit. His moans became louder and started fogging up your brain with an obscene image... It wasn't hard to see how plump and red his lips were, because he had a habit of biting them when he was getting close, and he was close for quite some time now if you were to believe his words earlier. Poor thing must have been on edge since he left the house. His cheeks were definitely flushed and red, and his eyes looked as if they were made of glass, because of the tears that appeared in them out of frustration. One of his hands closed tightly around the edge of his desk so hard, that his knuckles would get white, and the other behind him, holding a flared base of a plug he was using to fuck himself... He would definitely be leaning forwards, his caged cock maybe even bumping the desk from time to time, if he bucked his hips too harshly... Or maybe he was even completely bent over the desk, wishing that it was you who was fucking him... Hmmm... That was a nice image... But since you couldn't lay your hands on him now, a harsh, thin jute harness that hugged his upper torso under his shirt had to be enough for him to feel your presence for now. And you could almost see the light red marks it left on his skin, rubbing against it for a whole day... Not tight enough to actually impact his movements, but enough for him to feel you with him through the whole day.

You could hear his desperate, soft cries and longing moans, mixed with your name and empty promises of what he'd do if you just let him cum, telling you how sensitive he is just for you... He knew exactly what to say, what notes to play to help you get off. After a particularly sharp inhale and a whimper in a much higher tone than usual, you bit your lower lip harshly, because the image of his desperation in your head was enough to push you over the edge. It wasn't the strongest orgasm ever, but it definitely relaxed your muscles. Plus you didn't exactly plan on cumming today...

You looked at the timer on your call; there was still a couple of minutes left until he'd have to hang up, and since he was such a good boy today...

- Pete... - your tone of voice was surprisingly neutral and devoided of emotions, even though your cheeks were flushed. - Cum for me, honey... Let me hear it... - and he did, almost instantly. Oh, how you wish you were there to see it, to lick his cock over the metal cage and taste him on your tongue. And the sounds he made... Beautiful, delicious, if only you could drink them straight from his lips... After a moment you could hear his breath calming down, and after even a longer moment of silence, you could hear his last loud moan and a quiet thump of something falling to the ground

- Thank you... - he mumbled, still out of breath, and you smiled.

- You know what to do, I'm waiting... - there was just one more thing and you didn't have to wait long for your phone to vibrate, indicating that you received a new message, which you opened almost immediately. - Good boy... - and you could see exactly how fucked out he looked, and it was beautiful. He was practically laying on his desk, cheeks red, eyes full of tears that were dripping on some papers... he didn't take his shirt off, but it rode up, so you could see just a little bit of a thin brown rope peeking from under it on his back, and when you zoomed in, you could see how the area around it got all red and irritated. And then another picture came, from a different angle... you could see his gaping hole, stretched around nothing, and a thick line of cum dripping on his underwear on the floor, while his dick was straining painfully against steel restraints.

- Just for you, only for you... - he whispered in a breathy, still trying to collect his thoughts.

- Hmmm... Are you good? - and you didn't mean that in a sexual way. You truly wish you could be there with him, and fortunately, your job didn't require longer trips often.

- I will be in a minute... - he replied and you could hear a huge smile on his face.

- Good. You can leave the plug out, but you're not allowed to clean yourself. I want you to remember what a needy whore you are through the whole day, and sit in the mess you've made. - since he had chosen the dark pants today, you knew that it wouldn't be visible, and besides - he was about to be alone in his jet for a few hours, so there was a very low chance of him actually being caught.

- Yes, ma'am. - he didn't even care, still lost in his relief.

- You have to get going, baby, they will be waiting for you... - you knew that he knew that, and yet he still allowed himself to enjoy that relaxed state. You also knew that if he needed, he'd come up with a perfect excuse, but you didn't want him to have to do that.

- I don't want to hang up yet... I want to listen to your voice for a bit longer... - you couldn't help but laugh.

- Awww... Such a needy baby... - you finally put your phone down after you finished studying every detail of the photos he sent you. - You look so good splayed out on the desk like that, not even caring that someone might knock on your doors any second, or just barge in and see what a slut you are, fucking yourself and cumming on a plug just because your wife told you so... And they wouldn't be able to think about anything else when they see you... Would you be wearing one during class...? Or at the navy balls...? That might actually be an idea. For you to have a nice, pink, vibrating egg inside while you're in this white uniform of yours. And you wouldn't even be able to control it... - he groaned, and you knew what that meant. - Go get ready, honey... And send me some nice pictures after you'll get home... I want to see that harness and the marks it left when I wake up.

- Yes, ma'am. - he replied almost on instinct. You didn't always have this dynamic, but it was something that was extremely easy to slip into, for both of you.

- I love you, Pete... - you said just before you hung up.

- I love you more... - he replied and the call ended.

#my writing #tw: bodily fluids #⛓#🔌#🎤#🥪#📞#🔥#Top Gun smut #Top Gun Maverick smut #Pete Mitchell smut #Pete Maverick Mitchell smut #Maverick smut #Pete Mitchell x reader #Pete Maverick Mitchell x reader #Maverick x reader

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blissfullyecho · 1 year

Note

I have an absolutely appalling sleep schedule. I have to wake up every morning at around 6:30 for classes, but my problem lies in my bedtime. I go to sleep around 1-2 and end up tired all day. I usually read my romance novels or scroll through reels or YouTube shorts during this time. I really want to change my habits but I'm having difficulty cutting the scrolling habit and the urge to reach for my phone at night. I can't even turn it off because I live alone. any ideas how I can change this?

breaking the habit of endless scrolling before bed

find your reason as to why you are reaching on your phone

the questions you should ask yourself is 1) when do i pull out my phone? 2) what am i searching when i reach for my phone? 3) why do i feel the need to reach for my phone / why am i attached to it?

the first question you may or may not have an answer straight away. it might take you a couple nights of picking up your phone in order for you to answer that question, which is fine, habits take time to break. so first consider how long you typically go without picking up your phone before bed. are you able to stay off your phone for 20 minutes or is it more like five minutes? the next thing you should ask yourself is what are you looking for when you pick up your phone. are you looking at specific content like personal development, fitness, studying, cooking, etc.? or are you looking to see how many story views, likes, and comments you got on social media? are you stalking your ex? are you trying to find another way to be entertained because you’re not being entertained? you have to be real with yourself first and foremost and interrogate yourself and get to the bottom line. again, you might not find an answer immediately, but eventually you will. lastly, you need to ask yourself why do you feel the need to pull your phone out. are you bored and you’re looking for entertainment, are you stressed and the first thing you do is reach for your phone whenever a little bit of anxiety hits? basically, tap into those emotions and those feelings the next time you feel the need to reach for your phone and ask yourself why am i doing this right now? feel free to go back to this question and reread my answer and ask yourself those three questions. this is a way for you to get to know yourself better, and to be more mindful of your actions.

is it a lack of being entertained?

if you find that you’re not necessarily being entertained, you have to understand that you shouldn’t be entertained before bed. being entertained doesn’t allow you to wind down, relax, and eventually get a good nights rest. i don’t know if you have kids, but if you had a small child and they said to you that they couldn’t go to sleep because they’re distracted because of a toy that they really want to play with, you would tell them ‘no, you can play it tomorrow. go to bed’ because there’s no need for anyone to be entertained before bed. this is a time where you can look into reparenting yourself or to talk to yourself like a parent talks to their child. parents don’t say no because they don’t want their kids to have fun, they say no because they know what’s best for them. something that has recently worked for me when I’m trying to wind down but I still want to be entertained, is i take out my journal and whatever i want to watch on youtube, let’s say it’s personal development, i will write down a script as if I am a youtuber and that gives me the benefit of being entertained while also winding down because writing is very relaxing. you might also try making bullet journals, adult coloring books, or maybe listening to an audiobook. these ideas help you relax your mind, but also keep you a little bit entertained until your eyes get heavy.

is it a stress/anxiety coping mechanism?

i don’t know about you, but sometimes whenever i am in an uncomfortable situation, i reach for my phone because it feels like a safety net. if this is you, find other ways to ease your anxiety, and to ease your stress. this might be going on youtube and listening to a sleep meditation. maybe you want to do a stretching session that you can do in bed to relax your muscles. if you’re struggling with stress and anxiety before bed, you need to look for other ways to cope.

what can you do instead?

1) listen to an audiobook

2) adult coloring books

3) writing / journaling / bullet journaling

4) meditation

5) daydream / mental stories in your head

6) exercise a couple hours before bed

7) keep apartment/dorm/house/room dimly lit for a few hours before bed to trigger the “night time” sleep response from your brain

8) ***this really helps me*** i have a song i play about an hour before bed and now whenever i hear the song, i yawn because my body knows it’s time for sleep.

but most importantly, you have to find what’s best for you. so tonight or anytime you feel the need to reach for your phone before bed, stop yourself and ask “why am i doing this? what emotions am i feeling that triggers this? what am i looking to gain while being on my phone right now?” and don’t say “nothing”!!!! there IS a reason for everything, you just have to find it. then once you do, you should find alternatives to help get passed the phone habit.

i hope i helped! 🤍

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steviewashere · 4 months

Text

Return to Sender

Characters: Steve Harrington, Billy Hargrove (A Warning in Itself), Eddie Munson (E.M.)

Relationships: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson

General Audiences (May Change, but Will Not be Explicit)

CW: Use of the word Queer (as a slur, from Tommy) mentioned briefly and not at all lingered on

Tags: Pre-Season 2, Rewriting Canon, Though Keeping to Main Canon Events (i.e. Steve getting roped into finding Dart, Billy smashing in Steve's face, The junkyard, etc.), Eddie Munson has ADHD, Steve is Self-Deprecating, Teasing Banter (sort of), Steve has Shitty Parents

This is Part 2! To read Part One, follow the link here!

-------- It dawns on Steve that trying to find somebody by their little hobby of drug dealing is going to be tougher than he thought. He can't just ask anybody. And it's not like he can make some bulletin board statement or put an advertisement in the newspaper. What would that even look like?

Local Teenage Boy Who's Seen Some Shit Is Now Seeing Cute Little Locker Notes! Looking For Inquiries About A Drug Dealer With The Initials E.M.! Will Give "The Best Sex" You've Ever Had a Run For Their Money as Reward!

Yeah, he can't imagine that looking very well.

Not for him. Not for the other person involved. And he doesn't want to lose these little notes that he now looks forward to every time he goes to grab an assignment or a textbook or his lunch money. Because, what he's still reeling about, the notes keep coming. With not a single sign of stopping.

Little things. Like telling him how amazing he looks in his new polo shirts, to not listen to the scoffing of Tommy Hagan—who keeps telling Steve that he looks like a "Queer little prep." (Which, Steve's not sure how he's been found out in that regard. He hopes Tommy can keep a secret. But, knowing the history they share, he definitely can't.) And there was one with the answers to the math homework he was doing last minute at breakfast in the cafeteria, which were all correct, and Steve found himself giddily smiling over the big fat letter 'A' on the header of his paper. So, the notes are getting to be more frequent. They're nice. He loves them.

The only question is:

How the fuck is he supposed to find this person?

He began with the, albeit, dumbest way first. Standing vigil near his locker. Watching for anybody that looks like they're about to leave a note. A few girls wander near, but they don't mess with his locker. No, they flock to the other side of the hall to mess with Billy's. He scoffed when they did. And while he was busy watching them, he noticed at the glance back of his own locker, a new note.

It wasn't a very long one. Just:

"Have a good day, man. Also, stop watching random girls. You look like a creep. -E.M."

Steve physically slapped himself on the forehead when he reread it. Of course he missed his opportunity. Because he was distracted with some other mindless thing. That thing not only being those girls, but also stupid fucking Billy Hargrove. He always manages to find a way to ruin Steve's day, even without physically doing or saying something. He grumbled with the note tightly in his grip and stomped away to his last class of the day.

Then, when standing by his locker proved to be futile, he lurked in the cafeteria. Watching the tables. For somebody who was nose deep in a slew of little slips of paper, scattered near their hands, a blue pen secure in their hand. But—

He was the only one truly alone at a table. And the crowds of people at the other lunch tables made him nervous. So, he stopped watching. Besides, everybody was too busy talking to one another.

His locker didn't have a note at the end of the day. He was bummed about it.

Steve came to the conclusion on that day, Random person doesn't want me to be lurking. Or at least, that's what it seems like. Either he gets caught doing something he shouldn't be doing, or he can't actually see anything. Because there's nothing to see.

Some of his other ideas fell through.

Looking through last year's yearbook. Asking a few random students in the hallway if they knew an E.M., but they only rolled their eyes and shoved past him. (He's not used to that. Being ignored by the people around him. Maybe with his parents, but school life is supposed to be different than his home life. He doesn't like that the two are now bleeding together.) He even attempted the phone book. But that was a bust. There were probably thirty names to go through. And he didn't know which ones were teenagers in high school. And he seriously didn't want to call each one and ask: "Hey, are you the person that's leaving notes in my locker?" What kind of creep would that make him? An obsessive one, probably.

At least the student obsessed with giving him notes isn't bothering tons of other people in the process. At least this elusive stranger has morals and values.

He's growing frustrated, though. The longer this drags out. But he just has to...wait. Be patient. See if he can catch his secret admirer off guard.

In the mean time, he attends his classes. The ones that hold all the information for him to graduate, but all the knowledge goes into one ear and leaks out the other. He falls asleep at his desks from time to time. And since he's no longer on the basketball team, his schedule is wide open for after school detentions. Great, he thinks as he holds the pink detention slip in his hand today. Because what I need is proof that I'm still a failure, no matter what I do.

But he swallows his pride. Well, what's left of it. Some meager crumbs and a couple laps of liquid bravery that paint his insides like dried acrylic paint. Shuffles over to his locker at the end of his fourth period. Stuffs his oversized backpack onto the hook. Rustles around with some textbooks—maybe he can attempt his math homework; attempt is a strong word. He'' probably just stare at it and doodle a few drawings in the margins, hoping for time to pass.

There's a white slip of paper wedged between two books.

"Tough luck, Stevie. Maybe you'll get a proper nap at home once you power through detention. Believe me, the pent up frustration will knock you clean out. -E.M."

Steve scoffs. Crumples up the little thing into an even smaller ball. Tosses it at the metal backing of his locker. And watches as it bounces down pathetically to the floor. Embarrassingly, he finds himself on the verge of tears. Could my senior year get any worse, he asks nobody. But groans aloud as he picks up the paper once more and pockets it instead.

Textbook in hand and a wrinkled homework sheet in the other, he's on his not so merry way.

When he gets to the detention classroom, he's the only senior in it. Well, other than that overtime senior, Eddie Munson. He takes his seat next to Eddie, near the back, a textbook and homework sheet dutifully laid out on the desk, and his eyes stubbornly locked to it. Just to make sure it looks like they're not talking. Because he seriously doesn't want to be the only one in here. Sure, there's what appears to be a couple sophomores spaced out on the left side of the classroom. A few girls that he recognizes from Nancy's school year, all huddled around each other and whispering not so soft under their breath. But it's just him and Eddie in the back right corner. And hopefully he doesn't get reprimanded, forced to sit somewhere else, he isn't sure he can take anymore awful shit in his day.

However, it seems like it can get worse. His calculus homework. It's not something he knows well, having cheated off of one of those locker notes. Sparing his life of cognitive embarrassment, having to prove himself to maintain his average 'C' grade for sports this year. I'm not getting accepted to college, why the fuck do I have to do this shit, he has to wonder. It's giving him a dull headache.

The problem that's getting him:

What is the integral of the function f(x) = sin 2x?

He wants to slam his head onto the surface of his desk until he's just a mound of bloody, pulpy meat. He's better with English literature, surprisingly enough. Even if the words move a little bit, it's better than whatever garbage he's looking at now. It's like the problem knows he doesn't understand. It's like it has teeth, gaining and baring and wanting to chop off his fingers. It's like—

Something taps on the corner of his desk.

Looking up from his paper, agitated and exhausted, he finds the eraser end of Eddie's pencil clacking against the wood of his desk. Growling, he asks, "What the hell do you want, Munson?" Adding, huffed and close to giving up, "I'm trying to do my homework."

Eddie just grins at him. "I know, dude," he snarks. "We're in Mr. Nelson's class together, remember? I've got the answers, if you want them."

Steve rolls his eyes. "Yeah, right," he mutters. "Like you'd know. I know for a fact that you have an F in calc, why should I trust that you actually have the right answer?"

"Oh, that's simple," Eddie chirps. "I know my shit. Just don't turn in my assignments. You know—" He gestures vaguely at his head. "—I got that new diagnosis, ADHD. The thing that sort of makes you forgetful, or whatever? I know it, I'm just...Not on the money with turning it in on time."

"ADHD?" Steve can't help but asks, somewhat suspicious. "What does that even mean? Are you just making that up? There's no way—"

"Look," Eddie interrupts, voice short and firm, "do you want help on your homework or do you want me to explain shit that I know you won't retain? Because I could sit here and describe the whole thing, get you bored and distracted, and send you off on your way even more dumb and lost than when you entered in here. Or...I could tell you the answers and make you look better in front of Mr. Nelson and your basketball team."

Steve huffs. "I'm not stupid," he argues, voice weak. "And besides, I'm not on basketball anymore. So..." He sighs, defeated. His eyes fall back to his blank homework assignment. And he can feel his eyes begin to burn from embarrassment. Maybe I am stupid, he thinks, Maybe I'm no better than some super senior. "Can you just show me what to do, without making fun of me? I get that I was a jackass in the past, but this week has been rough. I just need to get through the end of it." He knows that to his own ears that he sounds like a petulant, begging little kid. And knows, too, that it's not a good look on him. His dad doesn't like it. Coach didn't like it. Mr. Nelson and Nancy Wheeler and Tommy Hagan and...Nobody likes it when he sounds like this. When he's a sight for sore eyes, down on his luck, ready to just curl up in a ball and melt into the floor.

He drags a hand quickly over his eyes, trying to wipe away at the wetness barely coating him. Sniffs back whatever emotion is still souring his throat. And keeps his line of sight pointed downwards. “I—Never mind, you probably don’t want to help some jerk. Especially one that just made fun of whatever you…whatever you said. God—“ He chuckles something deeply self-deprecating. “—You were right. Can’t even fucking remember what you just said. Can’t remember how to do math. Can’t remember…My head hurts and I’m tired and this just sucks. I’m sorry, man. I didn’t mean to come off so shitty,” his voice strains, though spits. Guess wiping my eyes did nothing, he notes, watching something wet drip down onto the desk.

“Steve,” he can hear Eddie breathe. “It’s fine, dude. I didn’t take any offense. Nobody knows about my shit, it’s fine. I was just giving you a hard time.” Steve looks up briefly at that. “I don’t even know why, if I’m being honest. You seem like you’re better, but maybe I’m wrong?” Eddie shakes his head. “Just let me see your paper. Act like you’re studying your textbook, I’ll do your assignment.”

“How am I supposed to learn if you do it for me?” Steve asks wetly.

“You’ll learn, I’m sure of it. Just give it here.”

At the end of the detention period, his homework is completely filled out. It looks correct, better than what Steve could ever possibly do. He has to go to the bathroom, stops inside, erases some of the correct math and fills in with his own scratchy handwriting, goes through his whole restroom routine, and returns to his locker.

Only to find another note.

“See? Detention wasn’t that bad, you survived! Now, take a nap at home. Relax. You’ll be alright. Senior year will be a breeze for you, I’m sure of it. -E.M.”

If only mystery person knew that taking roses to Nancy Wheeler leads to weird creatures that eat raw meat, tunnels and fire, and a beaten face.

If only he knew how to lick his own wounds. When he gets to his locker the day after him and Billy fight, he finds one more note.

“Okay, maybe I was wrong about this being a breeze. Meet me in the woods, picnic table, sit and wait for me. Think it’s time I show myself. Get you a friend around here. Someone who’d be willing to kill Hargrove if asked. -E.M.”

-------- Some Notes:

Did you know that ADHD was not an official diagnosis until the 1980s? So it's literally brand new here. Also, gotta get them to have a little bit of rivalry—something akin to a rivalry, at least, before they can be buddies and then lovers and then rivals again. Hehe, I love angst. <3

#stranger things #steddie #fanfiction #steve harrington #eddie munson #season 2 #different first meeting #passing notes #canon divergence

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goldberrg · 7 months

Text

dont have to do this

summery : Every day you feel worse and worse, hoping that your parents will finally notice you, but only Steve seems to be worried about you, as always.

TW's – alcohol, mentioned drugs, a lot of time skips

❕MASTERLIST❕

— Mom, you really need to sign our report cards. — you get distracted from the TV when you hear your brother Steve talking to mom.

— Already? Oh, yes, the semester ended a month ago. Where are they?

— We hung them on the refrigerator to make sure that you and Dad will find them easily.

— Oh, I didn't see that. — your mother declares, laughing softly.

From afar, you watch the interaction before rolling your eyes. Obviously, she hasn't seen your report cards on the refrigerator, even though she's been passing by it for the last three days. She can't see anything. She doesn't see any of you. Your mother and father are here, but they weren't really here. You know that they are absent because of their work, they do everything to provide you with a "good life", but you would like their definition of a "good life" to have something about being a "good parent".

Your mom takes a pen from her pocket and signs the papers without looking at them.

— Congratulations, kids. You've done an amazing job. — she confirms with a big smile.

This is the last straw for you. How could she say that you did an amazing job when your grades dropped completely this semester? Even your teachers are worried about your future. Your mother doesn't even pay attention to it. As always. You're tired of your mother's hypocrisy, so you get up from the couch and go to your room without looking at Steve and your mom, who are still in the kitchen.

***

When you walk into Miss Click's class, you hand her your report cards, just signed. She thanks you before she starts her class. You sit down in your usual seat and pretend to listen to the teacher. Since last month, your attention to school has decreased, as have your grades. You no longer follow the lessons carefully and continue to skip school. You've done it before, but only twice, and those were exceptions, you found good excuses not to feel guilty about it. Now you do it without thinking. After all, if the school had tried to tell your parents, they wouldn't have answered. If that were the case, you could always lie to your parents about why you skipped school, they would not be able to verify the truth, since they are always on the opposite side of the country or even on another continent. Steve noticed a change in your behavior, but he didn't tell you anything. He guesses that you're just going through a difficult phase. If you were really feeling bad, he knows that you would come to him. He's spent his whole life reminding you that he's always there for you. He knows perfectly well how to take care of you. Maybe even too much if someone asked your opinion.

***

Two days later, it's your father's turn to return from a work trip. He's even worse than your mother. He only speaks when necessary, while mom at least tries to act like she cares. Annoyed by the so-called presence of your parents, you take refuge in your room again. You turn on the music, increasing the volume while you read the magazine. You do everything to get lost in your thoughts, to forget that you are in a house that is anything but home. When you turn the page, the music stops abruptly. You look up from your magazine and see your father in front of the radio with an annoyed expression on his face.

— What do you think you're doing? I was listening to my music! — you say, you're getting angry.

You get out of bed and go to your radio, but your father stands in front of him.

— And I'm trying to work. Your "music" prevents me from doing this. — he snaps dryly.

— I need my music to focus.

— You're reading a stupid magazine. — your father objects, rolling his eyes.

— I do what I want, this is my room!

— This may be your room, but you're under my roof. Do as I say! So stop listening to your stupid music. — he orders. — If you really want to ruin your ears with this, use your player. You know, the fact that it cost us our lives and that you wanted it so badly.

You sigh in frustration as your father slams the door. You go back to your bed and scream into your pillow. You got angry after talking to your dad for less than a minute. By the way, it was also the first time you talked to your dad since he came home. Since you didn't want to deal with him again, you take your player, which he so "kindly" offered, and insert your cassette into it. Wearing headphones, you turn on music, trying to get rid of your emotions.

When you go to the kitchen for breakfast the next day, you find a note on the refrigerator. You'll recognize your mom's handwriting right away. You don't need to read it to familiarize yourself with the content. She went on another business trip for work. She's only been home a week. This is almost a record. You crumple the paper before you throw it on the table. You're not hungry anymore, so you're going back to your room to get ready for school.

When you come to school with Steve, you do everything to hide your anxiety. He tried to question you, but you acted like everything was fine. You don't want him to worry about you. Besides, you don't even really know what you're feeling. There are so many different emotions running through your head. You're completely lost. You just hope that classes will be a good entertainment.

During Miss Click's lecture, she returns you the test from last week. She hands over the paper and says she wants to see you after class. You nod before taking a quick look at your grade. You have a deuce, let's just say it's better than a deuce…

The rest of the time you're nervous about talking to your teacher. When the moment finally comes, you do everything to hide your nervousness.

— You wanted to see me, Miss?

— Yes, darling. I'd like to discuss your grades. You may have gotten a few better grades on the last tests, but it's still not enough. I know what you're capable of. You're a good student. Can you tell me what's going on? What is it? — she asks anxiously.

— I'm just a little tired. — you're lying. — I'm going to improve, I promise you.

— I'm sure you want, but it doesn't seem like you can. Listen, I'd like to talk to your parents. I know it's hard for them, but it can't go on like this anymore.

— My mom left today, and my dad is busy, and he will probably leave soon too.

— I know, but isn't there a solution for me to see them? — she insists, and you start to feel uncomfortable.

— I think you'll have better luck with my mom, but if you want to talk to her now, it will only be on the phone.

— It's better than nothing. Could you give me her number, please? — she says, taking a pen.

— I don't have her hotel number yet. Although I'll probably find it tonight. I'll tell you within a week, but I can't promise that you'll get in touch with her on the phone right away.

— It's okay, I'll try anyway. Thank you.

— Have a nice day, Miss. — you finish and start to leave, but she holds you back.

— You know, if you need to, you can talk to me. If it's difficult for you in class, I'll be happy to help you.

— Thanks.

You give her a small smile before sheepishly leaving her classroom. You get the impression that Miss Click feels sorry for you, and you hate it. Obviously, she has good intentions, but you don't want to make her think that you can't handle everything on your own. You know how to do it. You've known how to do it since you were a kid. Your parents left you no other choice.

Even if it's lunch break, you don't go to the cafeteria. You won't have time to relax properly, so you'd better not eat at all. Instead, you walk out of the building and into the woods next to the school. You walk carefully, making sure that no one sees you until you find yourself in front of a picnic table.

—Little Harrington. To what do I owe for this pleasure? — Eddie "Freak Munson smiles when he sees you.

— You know I'm not just Steve's sister, right?

— I know. What can I do for you?

— What can I get for fifty bucks? — you ask, catching him off guard.

— Excuse me?

— What can you sell me for fifty bucks?

— Nothing. — he claims without wasting a second.

— What, is it more expensive? I can already give you fifty, and the rest is tomorrow.

— No, I think you misunderstood me, sweetheart, I'm not going to sell you anything. — Eddie clarifies, and it's your turn to be taken aback.

— Why?

— You're fifteen.

— I'm sixteen!

—I'm sorry, ma'am. — he says dramatically. I don't sell to minors.

— So what? Are you a saint now? — you ask, and he shrugs. — You sell drugs in high school, what did you expect?

— Let's just say I don't sell anything to people under seventeen. In any case, you don't fit into any category.

— You're a jerk. — you say that with a fake smile.

—Thank you, little Harrington. — he's joking while you're out of the woods. — It was nice not to make a deal with you!

After his sarcastic comment, you throw a sharp glance at the guy, still heading to school. Among the people here, you would never have thought that Eddie Munson would play the good bastard. Even if you don't want to, you go back to class suffering in silence.

***

When in two weeks, your father leaves Hawkins to work, you feel like it's too much for you. You really feel bad. You feel sick in your stomach. You can't even eat. You feel like you can fall at any time. Steve noticed it on the way to school. He didn't ask you any questions while he was driving, he wanted to give you a little rest. Maybe you just needed a few more minutes to sleep? And yet, when you come to school, he's working on his brother's instinct.

— Are you feeling good? You look sick.

— Yeah, I just have a little stomach ache. It'll be over soon. Don't worry.

— Are you sure?" We still have a little time. We could go home. I'll call school and explain it. — he assures you, and you're trying to smile.

— Steve, I'm fine. It will be gone in an hour.

— If you need, you can always go to the nurse and ask her to tell me if you come home.

You nod before you get out of the car. You let Steve join his friends while you go to class.

Your anxiety is still present, even after an hour. Staying in school becomes unbearable for you, and you decide to miss the rest of the day. You're walking around Hawkins for hours before you get home.

You're lying on the couch and reading when Steve comes home in panic. Relief quickly blends on his face when he notices you.

— God, you scared me. I couldn't find you in the corridors and tried to call home, but no one answered!

— Sorry, Steve. I really didn't feel like it, and the nurse said I could go home. I forgot to tell her that she needs to tell you. And when I came home, I went to bed immediately. I'm so tired I didn't hear the phone call. — you lie.

— I understand, but don't forget to tell me the next time. You really scared me.

— Sorry.

— You feel better now? What's the matter? — he asks, putting his hand on your forehead.

—Yeah, I feel better. Besides, I don't have high temperature, Steve.

— We'll never know for sure. Maybe you got something caught.

— There's nothing about it. I'm fine.

— Well, but tell me if it happens again.

— Promise.

Steve goes into his room, and you look at him with a grateful expression on his face. You're lucky you have a brother who's so much worried about you who cares so much about you. He's doing better than your parents. You can't even remember when one of your parents was the last time you'd been clinging to your forehead to check the temperature. The feeling of gratitude quickly leaves the body, changing the wave of sadness when you realize how many Steve sacrifices for you. How much he sacrificed his life to do your parent's work. He shouldn't worry so much.

***

You're trying to call your mom for the fifth time in a row. Miss Click becomes more persistent. She told you she couldn't get to mom, despite the fact that she tried several times. You promised her you'd contact her. You're not surprised mom's acting like that. You told her your teacher wanted to talk to her about your grades. For a moment, you thought she knew something was happening, that she finally worried. When your mom still doesn't answer you, you're breaking the phone. Why do you even bother yourself with all these efforts if she doesn't even try? This situation with your parents becomes more and more intolerable. You want to talk about it with Steve, but you're afraid he'll stand up on your parents. After all, they're not here because they want to provide you with a good future. They do it wrong, but they have good intentions, right? On your part, selfish constantly demand their attention. But they could at least pay attention to your academic situation! If the teacher wants to talk to parents, it's because there's a problem. They must notice that, so why isn't that? Every contradiction comes in your head. If only you had parents with normal work, it would be much easier. These contradictions continue to curl in the head for a few days, exacerbating your anxiety. You're getting out more and more and you miss it. Steve does everything to know the truth, but you're silent. He's got so much to do with that he needs to handle that he doesn't need another problem.

Today you want to try a full day, but once the call rang, you got sick again. Now you know there's only one decision: quit school and stay in your own bubble, away from everyone. You feel like getting better when you do that. So, you're waiting for the corridors to drop quietly to leave the building. You walk out the street, you walk around the city. You go into some shops, but you don't buy anything. Eat a sandwich that made a day before continuing the walk. You're wandering like a ghost like a shadow of my old self. When the day is over, you have no strength to go home. You still want to stay in your own bubble. But stay sober in his own bubble is not enough. You go to the grocery store and wait for an adult to ask him to buy you some alcohol. When a young man of twenty years agrees to do it, you thank him. When he returns and gives alcohol, you feel even more grateful. You're starting to go when he calls you. — You know, you don't have to drink alone. You want to come with me and my friends? We're going to the bar nearby. They don't ask ID cards. You're hesitating for a second. Look at the guy before you look at the car in which two women sit and another man. You think a little more before you answer.

— Why not. — Come on, let's have some fun! — one of the women is screaming before opening the car door.

You're in the car, watching these strangers in the bar you told you about, and you drink almost the whole bottle. As you have said, no one asks the ID at the bar. You can order as much as you want. You decide to try everything in a little bit. You've always been rationalized. That night you want to change it. Your new friends encourage you to drink, telling a little about every alcohol available. You keep drinking shots, and another ordinary drink until you start dizzy. You're grabbing the counter before you feel sick. You run into the bathroom, and somehow you manage to keep yourself up until your face is over the toilet. Nicole, one of the women from the group, followed you, so at the moment she holds your hair while you're emptied your stomach.

— Thank You.

— I think you'll have enough for you tonight, don't you think? — she laughs.

— I think so.

— Come on, come on. We're going to tell the others we need to get you home.

— I really need to go home? — you ask questions before you clean your mouth.

— Your parents are not there, right? — you said it before you were punished. — That's true! You're right! Besides, even if they were there, they don't care about me. They won't even notice I'm drunk. — you add, suddenly feeling confident.

— Come on, the breaker of calm, it's time to go home.

Nicole supports you, helping you out of the bathroom. When you come back to the others, you're not quite in yourself to say you need to bring home, so your new friend tells them about it. They nod and laugh when they see your condition.

On the way home Pete, the one who bought you alcohol, keeps him moving slowly. Not because he drank alcohol too and wants to be responsible, but because he doesn't want you to be ripped out in his car.

Fortunately, you arrive at the destination without giving back the contents of your stomach. You're waving your new friends before you go to the door. You get the key from your school bag and open the door. You don't even have time to put your things down when you're suddenly dazzling the light. Steve runs to you in full panic.

— You're really coming home now? Damn, yes, it's three in the morning, I'm terribly worried. I thought something happened to you! I even called the police.

— It's okay, I'm not dead, Steve. — you're muttering, rolling your eyes.

— You're drunk? What's the matter? — he asks, coming closer to you.

— No.

— Y/N. — he insists more authoritative tone.

— Okay, maybe couple shots.

— How did you manage that? You're sixteen.

— I asked Pete.

— Who's this Pete? — Steve asked.

— The guy I met before. He's the one who took me home. — you're telling him, smiling.

— You really mean to tell me you took the alcohol from the stranger and got under the guard of this stranger? Do you understand how dangerous it was? He could hurt you. — he's splitting in shock.

— Calm down, there were Nicole, Tessa and George.

— And that should calm me down? You're completely drunk, three in the morning, you disappeared from today's morning and there was God knows who. Do you know how bad I felt

— Its..

— Don't you even say "nothing", Y/N. —he breaks down you, knowing what you were going to say. — I'm responsible for you when my parents are not there. I was so damn scared! And, by the way, not only tonight. I was worried about you for two months. — he admits, and you're frowning, knowing he understood. — Yes, they may have seen nothing, but I noticed that your grades were falling from the first day. I also know you tried buying drugs.

— How did you..

— Munson told me.

— That asshole! — you whisper, feeling devotee.

— Thank God he told me! He also confirmed all my doubts. God, what's going on? Why are you so far away? You know I'm here for you, so why are you acting like that? I can help you. I just feel you disappear and I'm afraid for you.

— Oh, God, can you stop? — you scream, dehydration.

— Stop what? Worry about you? I had to. You throw your life out on the wind. — Steve's parrying.

— Stop acting like a parent, it's not your job, damn it! You know what you just said to me, you should have spoken to me, you know, your mother or dad should have spoken. Not you. Yeah, you could be worried, but you're my brother. You have to laugh at me because you're yelling at me, or you have to blackmail me so I don't tell my parents about my grades. It's your job. You're not a parent. You don't have to be responsible for me.

— They work hard to..

— To provide us with a beautiful future, I know. — you broke him out irritably. — But what price?" Steve, I saw you acting like a parent than a teenager, and you're seventeen. I'm tired of seeing you sacrifice your life because two adults are unable to do their job. Look, tonight we have a new proof. You were terribly worried, you called the police because I disappeared all day. — you keep talking. — It's supposed to be parents, not you. You said it was two months since you noticed I didn't feel like it. My mother didn't even notice that my grades fell, though she signed the thing! It's driving me crazy because even when I'm trying to get their attention, you're worried not them. As you always do. I just want them to notice that they failed like parents. I want them to see us. At this time. But it doesn't work. I don't know what else I can do, and I'm sick of it. I can't stand it anymore, Steve.

You're totally in fucking tears. Steve doesn't answer, but hugs you as hard as he can. He knew that the situation in your family had affected you as well as he did, but he would never think you were so much suffering. He strokes you on his head, trying to calm your sobs, muttering some cute little things. You didn't think you'd break tonight, but that's what. You keep crying every tear from your body for a few minutes before you calm down. When Steve doesn't feel your shoulders move, he's a little bit of a hug to look at your face, look at his younger sister's face, completely broken.

— I'm sorry I didn't understand why you felt bad. I should have tried harder when I asked you how things were. — he says, feeling guilty.

— I'd lie.

— I should have tried harder.

— It's not your job. — you repeat in a whisper.

— That's not supposed to be, but that's what. Even if it's hard to handle all these duties, I'm glad to be here for you, so come talk to me when you're bad. Maybe I won't have answers to all the questions, but I'll do whatever I can. — your older brother assures you.

— Thank You. — you smile.

— If you want, we can try to talk to parents? — he's offering.

— They won't listen.

— We can always try.

— Yes. — you agree, but not really convinced.

— You need to rest, okay? — Steve recommends you, and you nod.

— Can you stay with me for the night? How when I had a nightmare when I was a kid? — you ask in a quiet voice.

— Of course. I'm just gonna call the police and tell me you're home. I'll take you a glass of water and some medicine, you'll have a damn bad headache. — he says, laughing slightly and pointing to your head.

— I think. — you say giggling.

Steve kisses you in the forehead before inviting you to your room. You smile slightly before you go upstairs. He goes to the phone in the living room when you stop and call him. Steve returns with a questionable look.

— I'm sorry. — you're starting before you clean your throat. — For disturbing you for the last two months, but especially for tonight. Maybe I wanted parents to worry, but the least I wanted you to be scared. You've been doing so much for me since we were kids. I'm really grateful for you that you're my older brother. — you admit it, for a second, you look. — I just hope you know that.

— I'm glad I have a younger sister.

— I'm sorry for tonight. I won't do that anymore, I promise.

#strangerthings #stranger things 4 #strangerthingsedit #steve harrington x original character #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x you siblings #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n fluff #steve harrington x y/n smut #steve harrington smut

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kabillieu · 2 days

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Concerned rambling about my big kid, also under the break.

My kid's social studies teacher does not like him. I have a child who is easy to dislike if you are not invested in getting to know him and his peculiarities. As he moves up into middle school and high school and has many more teachers who have him for just a short amount of time per day, this is going to happen more and more often.

My kid needs extra support in the form of written instructions for all assignments, and that is something that will need to go into his IEP next year. He also gets overwhelmed easily and is unable to explain homework assignments to us sometimes, nor is he always able to bring home assignment instructions. Sometimes because the instructions are oral and sometimes because they're written but he's lost the assignment page. There's also the problem of every teacher using a different app on the iPad for various assignments, and I have no idea how to access them, and he can't always tell me.

My child is more work than many teachers want to deal with, but he also has documented disabilities and needs to be appropriately accommodated. He is not being lazy or defiant. He is overwhelmed, disorganized, and distracted. He's bored in class and acting like it not because he's bad but because he has ADHD and poor social skills.

I need to work on getting a thicker skin because teachers are going to be curt and rude to me because they don't like dealing with my kid. And I will need to learn how to tolerate that and communicate with them anyway so that my child can have the tools and accommodations he needs.

The problem with my kid is that his disabilities are not immediately obvious. So teachers have the same expectation from him as other children. But he is just not at the same level, and he needs extra support. Some teachers really, really get it, and they go out of their way to support him, and I am so grateful for them and teachers like them. I know it takes extra effort to teach a child like mine. I know teachers are overtaxed and unsupported. But my kid deserves an education and is legally guaranteed to have one.

Yesterday, at his robotics club presentation, he had a meltdown in front of his club and all the parents because he felt like the kids in the club weren't listening to him. They probably weren't. My big kid can be abrasive and terse in communication style. He's more concerned with getting rules exactly right than hurting someone else's feelings. This is just such classic autistic behavior imo. It's not something he can help, but it makes him unlikeable to children and adults with neurotypical social skills.

When he was beginning to meltdown, I did not intervene because I know from lots and lots of experience that intervening when he's emotional escalates rather than de-escalates his behavior. He has to regulate himself, and then once he regulates we discuss what happened and try to make plans to handle similar situations differently in the future. But what it looks like to others, in the moment of his meltdown, is that I'm not parenting him. And then people think I'm a bad mother, when what I am is a careful, perceptive parent who is teaching him how to advocate and care for himself and make better choices for the future. I also always validate his emotions. Even if they don't make sense to me, they are valid to him!

Yesterday's meltdown was tough to witness, but he pulled himself out of it within minutes, was minimally disruptive, the event was able to continue without him, and then he was able to calmly walk away afterward. For my kid, this is a success.

But what teachers and parents and other children see is a disruptive, bad child. And I will have to deal with that alongside him. I will have to work with teachers who don't like him. It's all so exhausting--especially for someone who would rather die than draw attention to myself--but it's necessary, and I'm doing the right thing. And I'm not going to punish my child for a meltdown that he can't help because he's autistic.

Good lord, life is difficult sometimes.

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astyrial · 8 months

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knight in shining armor kiyoko shimizu x gn!reader (meet cute) synopsis: she helps you after a bike crash word count: 1k warnings: college au, minor injuries masterlist | requests are open

every morning, without fail, you see the same woman on your bike path. her long black hair, her etched-into-your-mind smile. the dozens of times you've biked by her apartment results in the dozens of times she's given you a short wave.

even her waves are graceful. the way her hand moves through the wind as she carries on with her activities. sometimes it'll be her watering the flowers outside her window, or her listening to a song loud enough that you can just barely hear it. and it makes her so irritatingly irresistible.

you find yourself looking towards where her apartment sits when you pass. and then your mind wonders what makes her so interesting to you. the answer of her perfect music taste, well polished flowers, and cat tower that sits right by the window, rings through your mind.

yet you know nothing about her. sure you know snippets of her life, but you can't possibly understand what her life is like. she lives near campus, meaning she's likely a college student. but what's her degree? what's her wants for after college? is she already seeing someone?

and honestly you never thought your answers would be answered, but make plans and watch fate happen...

"i'm literally biking to school right now, no, i'm serious! i'm like five minutes out," you try to explain to kuroo on the other end of the phone, his disbelief very visibly evident.

you groan as he continues to make jokes about how you're always running late. normally, you try to bike with attention to what's in front of you. but for some reason, mocking and laughing over the phone caught your attention, taking your eyes off of the sidewalk in front of you.

"kuroo, i will slap you if you keep distracting me! i told you, i'm so close to the school, i will be in class on time," with an instinctual shake of the head, your eyes barely catch something along your bike path.

just a few houses down, the mystery woman is walking towards the sidewalk, her headphones covering her ears. you give a small shout, attempting to slow your bike down as quickly as you can. the worst thing you think you can do right now is hit the woman who makes you so intrigued. probably break one of her bones or something and live embarrassed for the rest of your life.

kuroo quickly asks what's happening while you drive yourself towards the grass. however, the building that houses the prettiest lady you've ever seen, has a row of bricks. your front wheel runs straight into one of them, which sends you forward.

with a low groan, you hit against the grass, your foot caught on the handle. you stay laying there for a moment, hoping to forget everything that just happened and hope that you didn't sprain your ankle. "are you okay?" a voice, certainly not kuroo's, echos through your already pounding head.

"i will be," you squint your eyes open, her well known smile coming into focus.

"well, eventually, but you really took a fall there. where does it hurt?" she holds out her hands a little, her hair tucked behind her ears. quickly, you realize you must accept your fate of never talking to her again.

your eyes meet her's, the sun creating a halo effect behind her head. her head tilts a little, waiting for you to finally answer her question. "uh my pride?" it was cheesy, you knew it as soon as it felt your mouth. but the small shake of her head and roll of her eyes made it absolutely worth it.

"really, though, my head does. my ankle feels awful, my side will probably bruise if i'm being honest," a small, completely forced smile rests on your face.

"can you move your foot? and then tell me your name and the year?" she raises her eyebrows, her eyes darting towards your foot as you move it a little. a sigh of relief helps relax the situation a little.

as she helps you lower your (luckily not broken foot) onto the grass you recite what she asked for, "l/n y/n, 2023. do you need my phone number too, or is that too much?"

maybe it's the delirium talking, because even mentally, you were wondering why you're acting so forward. so ridiculously forward. she laughs it off, her hands moving around your ankle some to ensure that nothing is seriously damaged, "how about, for now, you can call me shimizu. maybe even someday kiyoko."

"someday? so this conversation will surpass your wonderful doctor skills?" you sit up, your side still hurting a little from the impact.

shimizu hangs her head, biting her lip with a somewhat annoyed expression, "possibly.. if you cooperate with me here. luckily, it feels like you're ankle will be fine. might want to check a doctor out though. and take some ibuprofen, you could have a concussion."

"my knight is shining armor, thank you. i'm very late for class right now, but this isn't too bad of a substitute," the bright morning sky creates the perfect background as you give shimizu a much wider smile.

she purses her lips, her fingers wrapping around yours as she attempts to help you up. her hands on warm, not clammy warm, but a gentle warm that battles the spring wind. "let's say i'm more of a maiden who's working on a degree in physical therapy," shimizu's fingers linger with yours as you use your free hand to grab the bike's handle.

you shrug, "i still like knight in shining armor.. but i should really get going. it was nice to officially meet you, shimizu," with a small, make pretend bow, side hurting and all, you get onto your bike.

"it was nice to meet you too," she gives you a short wave, watching as you make your way to the school.

you look back for a second, noticing her arms crossed in front of her chest, a smile on her face. and her unforgettable smile is what almost makes you forget that the experience ever occurred. that you never completely embarrassed yourself by crashing to the yard.

"what just happened?" kuroo's voice echoes through the phone, "and since when did you just flirt with people? can't believe i've missed this side of you." shit.

#kiyoko shimizu #shimizu kiyoko #kiyoko shimizu x reader #x gn!reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fanfic #haikyuu #kiyoko x reader #kiyoko shimizu x gn!reader

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