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#like some parts were good but other parts were meh
chloenadine · 1 year
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not 2 be controversial but I don't think I like the tl*u show
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miamigrandprix · 1 year
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my one takeaway from don't worry darling is that the sex scenes did not need to happen. they interrupted the flow of the story and weren't even hot. i think olivia wild has a lil cuck thing going on. thats my theory
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elsweetheart · 1 year
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what you heard : part one
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synopsis: you start to develop feelings for your boyfriends dealer.
♪ what you heard — sonder ♪
cw: reader is a bisexual woman dating a man, brief descriptions of having sex with a man, weed, alcohol, ellie’s sexual thoughts, blink and you miss it mention of throwing up, a man being really mean and a bad boyfriend, gay girl drama, ellie is kind of a homewrecker but reader doesn’t technically cheat, but mentions of it. kind of angsty at times? a little?
an: whew this is kinda lengthy !! idk how many words so… don’t ask me :( i hope you all enjoy it! i’ll start writing part two asap!
Ellie didn’t hate any of her customers, no. That would be bad for business. She just simply… preferred some over the others. Louis was one of those customers that she wouldn’t exactly reserve her best weed for. Not originally, at least. He was like a lot of the other guys on campus, average. Brown hair with the same old outfits, love of sports, and friend group. She could find one hundred of him. She kept a pretty exclusive clients list, not wanting to overwhelm herself with business whilst she’s really trying this year to stay on top of her studies. He wasn’t the most polite, and he was always showing up without texting first — but he paid, and that was good enough to keep him on as a customer.
Alright, maybe that wasn’t really the reason Ellie kept him on as a customer.
She always liked to check out the social media accounts of the people she sold to, try and figure out what kind of person they were, who they knew, and if they seemed like the type to give her up if a cop came knocking. Also, simply put — the girl was nosy. Don’t let her nonchalant demeanour fool you, her Insta-stalking skills rivalled the FBI. She knew she probably shouldn’t, and she did feel a little weird doing it — scrolling on her bed one evening in a hoodie and basketball shorts, she typed in Louis’ name to the Instagram search bar.
He had one picture up of you, the rest were pictures of him and his friends at parties. Real classy, she thought. She clicked the picture, wondering what kind of girl would have to be desperate enough to go out with a guy this… meh, and oh… Oh. You were smoking hot. It was a halloween throwback, a basic couple costume with Louis dressed as the devil and you, ironically enough dressed as an angel. He kept his sweaty pink hand on the curve of your ass as the two of you laughed. She wondered what was funny. He got lucky, she thought. Very lucky.
Ellie tapped you, and a tag emerged on the screen with your name. Pretty name, of course. Private account — much to her disappointment.
It would be totally inappropriate to follow you, right? Her customers girlfriend. Ellie clicked her own profile, gazing at it thoughtfully. Her profile picture was a black screen, and she had zero pictures up on her account. She had a considerable amount of followers, given her reputation but she didn’t follow many back — just a few very loyal customers, and her best friends Jesse and Dina. It would be weird to follow you right? Yes. Very weird, Ellie. She closed out the app, and pretty much forgot about it.
It was always the same exchange with Louis. He turned up, either unannounced or 2 hours late — burp, demand weed whilst barely sparing Ellie a glance or a thank you, and then head out. She didn’t always mind — not being a huge fan of small talk anyway, though she could do without the burp. He’d had texted earlier in the day, asking — no, telling Ellie that he would be passing by to pick up his usual ‘at some point’. A quiet knock rapt at the door around 02:23PM. Ellie swung the door open, coming face to face with you.
“Hi… Ellie?” You smiled. Hopeful, sweet, even prettier in person. You were wearing a little sundress with the cheap thin material that hugged every curve on your body, and if she stared a little longer like she wanted to she’d start to border on creepy. Ellie cleared her throat, fighting out a greeting and praying it would come out relatively normal.
“Yeah.” Was what she landed on. Whatever, play it cool. Pretend you didn’t try and stalk her Instagram.
“Louis isn’t coming, the weed is for me and he told me where to buy from, so… hi.” You grinned before telling her your name like she didn’t already know it.
“Hey. I’m Ellie.” And with that, she stepped aside and let you in.
It was like you brought the sunshine in from outside with you, because as soon as you stepped into her room Ellie felt too warm in her grey hoodie. She pushed the sleeves up as your eyes flickered around her dorm, realised she felt stupid and pushed them back down.
“How much you want?” She was pulling out the metal box from her drawer, glancing up at you as your brows furrowed unsurely — thinking as you tugged at your glossed lip. Ellie tried not to stare.
“Uh—” You breathed, and it relaxed Ellie slightly to see that you seemed more nervous than she did somewhat— just for a different reason. “Louis told me to just ask for what he usually gets? I’m sorry, I’ve never bought my own weed before.” You cringed, and then cringed again at the word choice. Ellie smiled fade into a soft chuckle with a nod that said ‘I bet you haven’t.’ She should have guessed, when did pretty girls ever buy their own weed?
“You’re good. I know what his usual is.” Ellie reassured, digging around in the nuggets. She pulled a couple out, placing them down on her scale before bagging them up. You held out your hand unsurely, and she pressed the plastic baggie into it. Your mouth opened to say something, and Ellie’s hand froze above yours as she watched you — trying to work out what might be wrong. “What? Is this not…”
“No, sorry. It’s perfect. I assume. I’m not sure. I just… I don’t know how to roll these. Lou told me to buy my own weed seeing as I am the one who wanted to smoke and — it’s okay. I’ll just Google it.” You shook your head, feeling your cheeks turn warm at your own rambling. Ellie stopped you as you went to shove the baggie into her pocket with a calm smile, raising her eyebrows as if to say ‘Hey, it’s okay. Chill.’
“I can roll it for you. It’s no biggie.”
You visibly relaxed, and Ellie could tell because of the way your chest collapsed slightly, not suffocating your tits against the material of your dress anymore which she couldn’t help but glance at as you looked away. “Thanks. Sorry.” You guffawed, your embarrassment seeming a little relieved as you stepped back, leaning against her desk as she pulled her chair and tray out to do the rolling.
“Louis not buying your weed for you?” She conversed, eyes on the rolling paper as she carefully packed it. Your head snapped towards her, realising that you were the one who blabbed that. Her eyes glanced up at you briefly when you didn’t immediately answer.
“No. It’s… okay though.” You justified, a mass of shame swirling just below your rib cage. You didn’t wanna talk shit about your boyfriend to a stranger, even if the stranger had a totally welcoming vibe about her — and your boyfriend was cheap. Ellie tsk’d lightheartedly, shaking her head. “Against the rules, man.” She comment quietly.
“What rules?” You furrowed your brows defensively as she continued packing.
“You don’t let your girl buy her own weed?” She repeat obviously. Something about the way she said it made the embarrassment in your stomach dissipate into butterflies, which widened your eyes slightly at the disloyal feeling.
“Oh.”
Silence for a beat or two as Ellie concentrate. You notice the lesbian flag on her pinboard.
“It’ll probably just be me and my friends that smoke it anyway. The weathers nice so we’ll be at one of those frat pool parties… You don’t go to those?” You tilt your head, and her eyes lingered on you as you did so at the sugary sweetness in your gesture. God, you made her teeth hurt.
“Nah. I hear those things get weird and horny. Straight people… no offence.” She glances towards you once more, the ‘no offence’ holding little to no weight. Ellie didn’t seem like the type to give a shit about offence, anyways.
“I’m bisexual, but I understand.” You giggle, pushing yourself back to sit more on her desk, swinging your legs as you watch her roll. Her fingers froze for just a moment, before she continued rolling.
“Oh yeah?” She conversed, absolutely despising how a flame of hope flickered in her chest. Nope. Not doing this again.
“Yeah, actually I…” You chuckled. “I started college with the hopes of finding a girlfriend. Things just… didn’t end up that way I guess.” You shrugged, and you seemed happy enough but Ellie could sense the disappointment buried deep.
“Huh.” Ellie let out as she licked the rolling paper, firmly closing it up. She kind of hoped you were watching her as she did so. You weren’t. “You know if you squint really hard Louis could be a lesbian.”
“Really?” You raise an eyebrow.
“Nope.” Ellie pushed her chair back, standing. You chuckled and she smirked, pushing the two pre rolls she’d made into a bigger baggie and then presenting them to you. “This gonna be enough?”
“Oh yeah, I’m a total lightweight.” You giggled girlishly and she nodded, stuffing her hands into her pockets as she watched you fish around in your purse, unzipping an inside pocket to stuff the rolls inside.
“Cute.” She let slip with a smile, and your heart fluttered a little. You berated yourself for that silently.
“What extra do I owe you? Do you charge for rolling or… I don’t know how this usually works.” You pulled out your pink zip up wallet, the zip a glittery jewel between your fingers.
“Nah. No extra charge.” She held her hands up and you raised your eyebrows in surprise. That was a lie. She did usually charge extra for that, but one thing about Ellie was that she was a sucker for the pretty girl discount.
“Really?” And out came the doe eyes, your dark heavy eyelashes weighty above your pretty eyes as you looked up at her in awe. It was Ellie’s hearts turn to flutter.
“Really.” She smirked, not breaking eye contact (much to her surprise) as she pinched the cash payment from you between her pointer and middle finger knuckles, only swallowing down the giddiness when your fingers brushed hers. You grinned, zipping your wallet back up and tucking it away, feet tapping on the floor a little like you just couldn’t contain your excitement (Which made Ellie want to squeeze you.)
“I know you said it’s not your thing, but you should come to one of the pool parties. Most of the time the people there are cool. It’ll be good for business.” You wiggled your eyebrows which made Ellie’s smile uncontainable, teeth actually on display now which she honestly never did. No one was ever funny or cute enough.
“Maybe.” She rolled her eyes with a smile, walking you towards her door.
“They happen every weekend. Would be cool to see you there.” You fixed your bag over your shoulder before turning back to her. “Nice to meet you, Ellie. You’ll be seeing more of me.” You nodded formally, and the auburn haired girl tore her eyes away from the visible band of your underwear through the material of the dress when you looked back at her, muttering a “Good.”
Ellie always came away from these kind of things wishing she said more. She knew you had a boyfriend, but something about you seemed more curious. Like you weren’t totally against the idea of flirting back. Maybe it was all in her head because of the stupid crush she’d already developed. She didn’t understand it, how could someone like you feel fulfilled by someone like him. Ellie would never let you pay for your own weed, she’d treat you right. She had the means to be able to spoil you, which she didn’t need proof to know that Louis didn’t. Hell, he couldn’t even pay for his girls weed — Ellie knew stingy when she saw it. He probably wasn’t even making you cum. Not like Ellie could anyway, but then again who could? She’d like to think she had a gift — but maybe it was a guitarist-fingers thing, and years of deftly rolling tight joints.
Ellie shook her head free of the thought — sure she was a little grey-moralled — but thinking about finger fucking one of your customers girlfriends on a sunny afternoon felt a little wrong even for her. She was heading off to meet Dina to exchange notes for a class she missed, again just about willing herself to stay focused this semester. The two of them chat over coffee, the notes barely touched as the two friends joked around. When a pensive silence filled the space between them, Ellie spoke up — picking at a hangnail in a way she hoped was casual.
“You ever been to those campus pool parties? The ones at that douchey frat house?” She shrugged, glancing up at her darker haired friend.
“Uh, yeah. Like once or twice.” Dina frowned before snickering, raising a doubtful eyebrow. “What, you interested? You don’t even enjoy regular parties, hermit.”
Ellie’s jaw dropped slightly in offence, letting out a scoff before taking a sip of her coffee — still scalding hot on her tongue. “Excuse me. I’d be there strictly on business. I heard it’s… I was told I should go.” She explained. Dina’s smirk deepened, eyes lowering into slits.
“Who is she?”
“Why do you assume this is about a girl?” She rolled her jewelled eyes, before glancing around the cafe just incase anyone was listening to her pathetic segue into talking about you.
“Because last time I suggested you come with me and Jesse you nearly threw a textbook at my head.” Dina argued, making Ellie sit back in her seat, looking away in defeat as she crossed her arms over her light grey hoodie.
“She’s got a boyfriend. So it doesn’t matter. Just said it would be good for business and… the customer is always right, so I’ve been told.” Ellie rushed out, Dina’s shoulders dropping with a pitying look.
“Oh Ellie. Why put yourself through that?”
“She’s bi — okay stop. This isn’t about her. I was just asking. Fuckin’… forget it.” Ellie flipped the page of her notes now, going to scribble down what Dina had written to get her mind off the conversation.
“Alright, alright.” Her friends held up her hands. “Defensive.”
Ellie didn’t see Louis much from that point on. Same time, every week — you would be on her doorstep. Ellie wasn’t sure if it was just out of convenience, or maybe you had wanted to see her. You had the same spritely, sunshine attitude each time you stepped into her dorm — lighting it up with your smile and your pretty dresses. The auburn haired dealers heart was beginning to ache in a painfully familiar way. An unrequited crush, a girl she couldn’t have. She wished she could say this was the first time she’d crushed on a girl with a boyfriend — but that would be a lie.
Each time you left, the giddiness would fade out into a prickly, warm and uncomfortable anger settling in at the pit of her stomach. Occasionally, you’d let slip the way Louis treat you — and if you didn’t say it, she could tell by the look on your face when his name would come up. Your classes were stressing you out, hence needing her weed to unwind in the first place, and your boyfriend was doing nothing to ease your anxiety, instead choosing to go out and get wasted with his friends each night. You deserved better, and she knew it wasn’t her place to say but shit, it was killing her. You were killing her. She could treat you better.
From outside the frat house, she could hear music, laughter, and water splashing from down the street. Ellie stood with Dina and Jesse, already regretting her decision.
“Fuck this. I’m turning around.” Ellie attempted to swivel, but Jesse grabbed her arm.
“No you’re not. You’re here to sell, remember? Got a friend with money, said he’d pay you good.” He gave her a light shove towards the door, Dina rolling her eyes at the two’s antics. Ellie felt overdressed, wearing her short sleeved blue worn denim shirt unbuttoned over a wife beater and shorts with her Converse, pockets stuffed with pre-rolls gifting her that usual marijuana infused smell that followed her around that said ‘Hey everyone! I’m a dealer!’ Upon stepping out into the backyard, it was clear what kind of party it was. The sun was still shining, and people seemed pretty drunk already — jumping off the low roof and into the pool, girls on the outskirts squealing in their bikinis. The floor was practically vibrating with the bass from a Drake song and the sun was sizzling the back of Ellie’s neck — recipe for a headache, she thought. She’d sell her shit, and get out.
She knew you’d be here. In the back of her mind she knew. And yet, her heart still damn near thudded out her chest when you were suddenly right in front of her, arms extended with a big toothy grin. Ellie had almost panicked, not ready for the confrontation. She hadn’t even gotten herself a drink yet, hadn’t even smoked yet and here you were. You were wearing a white bikini and it looks so pretty against your soft skin. She was looking at your tits again.
Ah, shit.
“Ellie! M’so happy you came! I didn’t think I’d ever see you at one of these!” You all but squealed, throwing your arms around her neck and pulling your body taut against hers. Ellie didn’t have to look at Dina and Jesse to know that their eyebrows were practically in their hairline, taking in the scene in front of them. Your bikini top was damp still clearly having taken a dip in the pool earlier, along with the ends of your hair and she felt the wet triangles pressing damp spots into her own chest, your tits pressed up against her. You even had the nerve to let out a happy little ‘mmph’ moan as your body collided with hers. Were you really that happy to see her? God, if I had a dick right now, it would be rock fuckin’ hard. Thank fuck I don’t, Ellie thought— eyes opening again, not realising that she had squeezed them shut to suppress a moan when she’d hugged you back.
“Uh, yeah! Told you I’d consider it.” She tried to play it cool when she pulled back, taking in your giggly expression. You didn’t let go of her arm as you pulled away, and a waft of alcohol drifted through to Ellie’s nose, suddenly helping her understand the situation a little better. You were pretty drunk, but where was your boyfriend? Ellie scanned behind you, searching for his brunette mop only to be met with several dozens of them. Great. She felt a spike of anger in her chest again, violently protective. Who just leaves their girl wandering around in a bikini, drunk, at a frat party? “Wheres your little boyfriend?” Her expression flattened out, and she caught herself. She didn’t mean for it to come out like… that. Luckily, you were drunk enough to not notice the bitterness in her tone.
“Louis? Oh— uh…” Your bottom lip stuck out as you spun around on your tiptoes to see over heads, scanning the yard for him before spinning back with a shrug. You dropped back down onto the balls of your feet and your tits bounced in Ellie’s peripheral vision. “Who knows.” You giggle, eyes jumping to Ellie’s two friends, silently watching with amused smirks.
“Oh, uh— these are my friends. Dragged me along here. Dina,” She pointed. “And Jesse.” He gave you a little wave.
“Hi!” You chirped with an adorable little wave, before telling them your own name. “I’m not usually this…uh—”
“Drunk?” Ellie leant forward quietly with a smirk, like it was a secret just between the two of you. You giggled, turning back to her, introductions long forgotten as your face morphed into a theatric pout, blown out puppy dog eyes and all.
“Who says I’m drunk? Maybe I’m just really friendly.” You practically pur, suggestiveness dripping off your tone as your hand pulled her by her arm just that little bit closer, soft fingertips over her tattoo. Just as Ellie scrambled for an answer — your name was called in a familiar voice. Louis.
“Babe, there you are.” He sounded irritated, and Ellie straightened her back, jaw squaring ever so slightly. Be friendly, Ellie. He’s a customer — she remind herself. A shitty one, but he still pays you.
“Oh…” He took Ellie in, eyes jumping over her attire before glancing back at you. She just admit, she did look violently lesbian that day — and the body language between her and his girl wasn’t looking all too great to fresh eyes. “Hey.”
You reluctantly let go of Ellie’s arm, which didn’t go unnoticed by the brunette boy.
“I was just catching up with Ellie!” You grinned, and God — were you aware of just how flirtatious you looked batting your eyelashes up at her like that? In front of your boyfriend?
“Yeah, I see that.” Louis’ eyes didn’t leave Ellie’s, which of course she took as a competition without even thinking. She took a step closer, eyes narrowing ever so slightly. She stood around 5’7. Taller when she wore boots. Taller if she fixed her posture. He wasn’t much taller than her, so she pretty much met his eye. Her heart skipped a few beats knowing you were watching her, but she held his gaze anyway— tilting her chin up a little. “Thanks for looking after my girl.” He spoke, which almost made Ellie want to laugh.
“Any time.” Eye to eye, the smirk that tugged at her lips held more meaning and the two of you knew it. Oh, she’d look after you alright. Louis’ eyes flickered away, glancing over at Dina and Jesse before back to her, stepping away and putting an arm around your shoulder.
“Come watch me play beer pong?” He spoke to you and you shrugged happily, taking the drink out of his hand and sipping. The freckled dealer couldn’t help but briefly think about how if you were with her she would have cut you off by this point, wrapping an arm around your waist and telling you that you’d had enough to drink, maybe suggest grabbing you a water. As he lead you away, you craned in his hold to wave at Ellie, who waved a few fingers back— watching closely. It was a casual crush before, but now it was on. She didn’t like Louis’ smugness, nor his general attitude or the way he was neglecting you. She had to take you and leave him with nothing. No, Ellie. You’re being like him. She’s not a piece of meat. But she knew the protectiveness didn’t stem from that. Did she think about you sexually? Yeah. But she could give you more than that. You were a sweet girl, and you should be treated as such.
“That was tense.” Dina raised her eyebrows, breaking the auburn haired girls concentration, her gaze snapping back to her friends.
“Oh, uh — he’s fuckin’… weird. I dunno. I give him my shitty weed.” She shrugged it off, looking over her shoulder once more to watch you disappear inside.
“I get it now, though. She’s a total smoke show.” Dina dropped her hand onto Ellie’s shoulder who sighed, shaking off the whole interaction.
“Whatever. I need a drink.” Ellie rolled her eyes, stepping away.
“She was hot.”
“Jesse, it’s okay when I say it. Not when you say it.”
“What? You just called her a smoke show! You’ve never called me that.”
Ellie left the bickering couple behind to find a beer, needing something cool and alcoholic to wind her down. Why was she getting so possessive over someone that wasn’t hers? You were making her feel like a creep, and she didn’t like that. Ellie did not catch feelings easily, despite her past mistakes. So like… what the fuck?
She didn’t see you for two weeks.
Maybe you’d realised you shouldn’t be giving her the eyes. Maybe Louis stepped up his game, who knows. Neither of you had even purchased any weed, and it was approaching exam season so Ellie knew you were stressed. But did she know? Was it presumptuous of her to ‘know’ how you feel?Just based off several occurrences and conversations when you’d come to her dorm to pick up? She tried to shake the feeling of you, your skin grazing hers and your pretty eyes staring up at her — and it was actually working. Maybe time does heal everything. Until of course, she went to the library and the clocks reversed on themselves.
She had to admit, she was falling a little behind in her work. She had gotten so preoccupied in selling that she had almost forgotten to be, well… a student. Her backpack was making her shoulder sore so she switched it to the other as she wandered through the building, fairly quiet for a Tuesday. She felt a pit of irritation bud inside her when she saw someone sat in the seat she wanted, the one that was away from everyone else in the library. She note the pink laptop case, the Hello Kitty stickers on the water bottle, the bracelets on the protruding arm. Oh, it was you.
Ellie was planning to walk on by. You’re here to do work, not flirt or get yourself involved in some kind of sapphic shenanigan. Your head was on the desk, and she figured you had fallen asleep — which almost made her smile fondly before she caught herself. Not yours, Ellie. As she stepped away however, she heard a sniffle. Then another. Ellie froze, willing herself not to do it. It’s not your responsibility Ellie, you can walk away and pretend you never saw. She pursed her lips, turning around anyway.
As she did so, you were lifting your head from the table, wiping your cheeks and nose of tears. You had this pitiful pout on your face, streaming eyes all pink and glossy and your nostrils damp in this oddly adorable way. Ellie still had time to creep away, but she didn’t. She couldn’t.
“You uh… you good?” She stood awkwardly, making you snap your head towards her in surprise. She didn’t miss the way your eyes widened slightly in embarrassment at seeing a familiar face in such a vulnerable moment.
“Oh — Ellie. Um, yes. I’m fine.” You tried, but when you held her doubtful gaze — your lip wobbled again.
“Okay.” Ellie sighed after a beat, pulling up a seat and dragging it to your small table. Yep, she was doing this. “Talk to me.” She spoke in a hushed tone. She was so gentle with her voice and her eyes and her general demeanour — something you weren’t so used to — it soothed you enough to calm you for a moment and you revelled in the unfamiliar but warm feeling she brought you.
“I don’t wanna bore you with it.” You shook your head with an demure chuckle. Ellie wanted to reach forward and wipe your tears away, her hands itched on the table in-front of her instead.
“We’re literally in the library. I promise you that nothing is more boring than my text-book.” She raised an eyebrow with the attempts of making you laugh. Instead, you watched her for a moment. Ellie could tell you were wondering why she was being so nice to you. Does she treat all her customers this way?
“It’s… stupid. Louis just…” You sigh, as if the mere mention of his name makes you cringe. “We’re not that serious. So… I don’t care what he goes off and does in his spare time,” Interesting, Ellie noted. “But he gets really mad. And when he gets mad he gets mean. I guess I just need thicker skin.” Your voice cracked.
“Or you need to be with someone who’s not an asshole.” Ellie snipped before she got the chance to stop herself. Your eyes met hers again, a little wide in shock. “Sorry.” She closed her eyes, collecting herself. You blinked and two fat tears rolled down your cheeks.
“It’s… okay.” You whispered, playing with your bracelet. A silence sat between you two, just the sound of quiet shuffling in the library and your sniffs.
“Look, don’t let him get to you. You don’t… deserve that.” She shook her head and you nodded slowly, accepting. It was as if Louis were purposely giving her more reason to dislike him, and it was getting harder to hide her distaste for him. Snide comments were slipping out more frequently, Shit — she could barely even contain her facial expressions when his name was mentioned. Something had to be done soon, because she didn’t know how much ‘pretending’ she had left in her. Thankfully, the two of you seemed to have developed a bit of a friendship — so she felt less guilty about bashing your boyfriend, as you seemed understanding due to his often unlikeable ways.
“You done here soon?” Ellie looked around at the library. You wiped your cheek, hitting save on your laptop and shrugging.
“Didn’t really have any work to do, just didn’t know where to go.” You pout sadly, making Ellie have to dig her nails into her seat this time so that she didn’t lean forward and kiss it off you.
“Y’wanna smoke? On me. You need cheering up.” She stood up, swinging her backpack back on, studying long forgotten. You looked up at her hopefully, a glint of reluctance in your eye. You didn’t know why it felt wrong, you weren’t technically doing anything wrong. Just two friends hanging out, right? Louis wouldn’t know that you’re attracted to her. You wasn’t even sure if Louis remembered that you were bisexual for Gods sake, despite telling him a whole bunch of times.
“Really? I can pay you Ellie…” Your eyebrows knit together, and she was already shaking her head.
“My treat. I don’t like seeing pretty girls cry. Makes me wanna cry. You want me to cry?” She joked, pointing at herself in disbelief. She felt relief at the giggle that made its way out your throat, covering your mouth as to not disturb the other library goers. Pretty girls. The words echoed around your head until your face was hot before it dropped into your stomach and made a nest there.
“Okay.” You agreed after a moment. What harm could it do? Louis was an asshole, and the guilt began to slip away as you stood up — remembering all the nasty things he’d said to you.
“Alright, good.” Ellie grinned, turning her face away for a moment so maybe you wouldn’t see how excited she was. You did.
_
“Thats a terrible first high story.” You giggled, taking a draw from the joint.
“What? Fuck you let’s hear yours then!” Ellie gaped, leaning forward from her seat on her bed to take the joint from you as you exhaled. You bit back your smile, letting your pink, watery eyes sail off in thought at you recalled your first time smoking.
“Kay, so… I was 17.” You staged dramatically, widening your eyes slightly as she smirked at your theatrics, leaning back with her eyes glued to you. If you weren’t so blazed, maybe you’d feel nervous under her simmering gaze. “Best friends brother let us smoke some in the backyard with his friends. I tried to play it cool, but I smoked too much and start laughing and I couldn’t stop. Like — it was painful, and I was scared because I couldn’t stop laughing. And they were all looking at me like what the fuck… so I went inside, tried to calm myself down and I threw up on the carpet. Like a distressed cat.” You pouted lightheartedly as Ellie chuckled along with your story.
“Threw up? How strong was the weed? Damn.” She laughed and you shook your head.
“It might have been the shots we’d done before hand to calm our nerves. Bad idea.” You cringed and she nodded, eyes still piercing into you as her laughter died down.
“That might’ve been it, yeah.”
A comfortable silence fell over the two of you as she brought the joint to her lips once again, sucking in as she inhaled the pungent smoke. Ellie always got this confidence about her when she smoked. Well — she always had this slightly cocky demeanour about her, but for the most part it was an act. A need to protect herself. A defence mechanism that helped her get by — being a dealer was a social ass job. But smoking made that feeling real. She knew that was bad, relying on weed for real confidence and all, but hey — she’ll take what she can get.
“How you feeling? Any better?” She tested the waters, almost sorry she brought it up when you remembered Louis’ existence, expression melting a little into one of slight disappointment. One that said ‘Oh yeah… him.’ Like you’d forgotten for a moment.
“I guess. Not gonna let it bother me like you said. I don’t have the energy.” You shrugged, tearing your gaze away to study your baby pink manicure instead. Ellie scoffed out a little chuckle, finally stubbing out the joint. The noise attracted your attention and you met her analytical stare.
“Can I… ask what you see in that guy? Not judging just… curious.” She held her hands up in defence, but you didn’t exactly jump to his rescue. Infact it took you a moment to think about it.
“I don’t…” You stop yourself from saying ‘I don’t know’, your pride still burning despite the weed letting your guard down. “He’s… nice most of the time. Kinda guy your parents want you to bring home. He’s not as bad as he seems around other people. I guess he makes me feel wanted when we’re together?” You consider, but the way you say it makes Ellie think that you don’t even fully believe it. “I think… it was gonna be just sex. When I first met him anyway, but if I’m being totally honest the sex isn’t worth it on its own so I dunno… I thought I’d feel more fulfilled by a commitment, you know?”
Ellie was delighted, to be honest. It was music to her ears. You were just spewing about how unfulfilled you were, and she was starting to feel more and more confident that she could convince you that there was a bigger and better world out there. She laughed, openly — letting the joy of the moment go to her head for a minute.
“Oh that’s funny?” You giggled back, chucking a small brown sentimental looking teddy bear at her from her bed. You pursed your lips and she could tell despite your laughter you were knocked slightly insecure by her reaction.
“A little.” She looks off to the side. You want to chuck something else at her but there’s nothing to throw.
“Why?” You push. You know why.
“Your boyfriend can’t fuck.” Her stomach tensed as another laugh bubbled up and you rolled your eyes theatrically, pushing yourself up just so you can dramatically change your position to face the other way on the bed, arms crossed and brow creased.
“Not opening up to you again.” You push out and she nudges you gently with her foot, a more sympathetic (yet equally amused) expression still at the surface.
“No, I’m sorry. Go on.” She waved her a hand a little in the smoky room, nudging you again with her sock covered toe.
“Thats it! There’s nothing else to it. My boyfriend can’t fuck and it sucks. I hate everything.” You complain, not daring to face her. She can’t help but burst out laughing again, the back of her head leaning back to rest on the wooden headboard as she runs a hand over her eyes, shielding herself from the bright dorm light, and you. She lets out an ‘ahhh’ at the end of her outburst.
She hears you whine her name, and she takes more pity on you this time purely because you sound so cute.
“Alright uh— tell me what he’s doing wrong. I’ll give you pointers to give to him so he can fix his shit.” She tries suddenly, as if just being struck by the idea — and she feels you slowly look at her. She pushes her chin down to her chest, looking at you now as she removes her hand from her eyes. You blink at her a couple of times, still pretty, still high as a kite.
You inhale through your nose, eyes drifting off in thought as you turn back towards her, invested, tucking your feet beneath your ass. You hum, coming up blank. “I don’t know. I feel like… you either got it or you don’t, you know? Sex is… emotional. Well, it should be. To him it’s just… getting off.” You shrug, opting to pick at a loose thread on her grey bed throw than look at her. The smirk is still dying on her lips like the slither of sunlight resting on water at the culmination of a sunset. She takes a little longer to think, brain fogged by her high.
“So… okay.” She pushes her palms into the bed to sit up a little more. “What do you like? I don’t really pin you as someone who… wants to be in control.” She analyses, watching you carefully for a reaction. She notices the flick up of your eyebrows and guesses — correct.
“With him there’s no… no one is in control. It’s not one person calling the shots or any kind of dynamic it’s just… we just fuck and that’s it.” You sound sad this time, like bringing the conversation to forefront was making you realised just how unhappy you were.
“Do you cum?” She asks abruptly, and you nearly choke on your own saliva. You think it catches her off guard too, because she looks away from you for a moment and itches her head before deciding fuck it, and goes back to staring. You bite your lip. Well there was that one time, you were on your back — Louis on top, you had a hand pressed between the two of you, rubbing your clit in quick sloppy circles as he got busy. Your eyes were closed. Did you cum? Kind of? Your eyes were closed. You were somewhere else. Somewhere softer and warmer, and it didn’t smell like beer and sweat. You shake your head, no. It was the closest time though, but Louis got all hostile about you touching yourself during sex. Said it was insulting, that you undermined him. You shook off the memory.
“No?” She whispers, eyebrows raised to the high heavens as if she just couldn’t fathom having sex and not making her partner cum — because that’s exactly what she was doing. She felt that hot tingling anger again in her chest, but it was dulled out by the weed — leaving her with just a light irritation at the back of her throat. “Thats fucked up.”
“Is it? I mean… orgasms take time. Doesn’t just happen in five minutes… that can get exhausting.” You defend, and you’re not sure why. You both know there’s no excuse.
“Nah.” She sniffs, not quite bothered to begin on how wrong you are. She switches the subject slightly instead. “So let me guess, missionary everytime?”
Your eyes widen, pressing your fingers over your lips to stop the childish giggle from bursting out. Ellie’s eyes widen too, realising how, well — down bad she was acting. She felt like a teenage boy on Snapchat playing truth or dare asking an uninterested girl if she’d ever send nudes before.
“Uh— fuck, you don’t have to answer that. Just making conversatio—”
“Most of the time. I think…” You decide to share something to make her feel less invasive, not wanting the conversation to end. You actually enjoyed getting to talk someone about this. “I think I’d feel good on top, maybe. But, hmm. How do I put this?” You thought. You looked at her for a moment and she gazed back, waiting on you to continue. Her breath caught in her throat when you crawled up toward her. “Lay back, please?” It was a request, not a command — and Ellie thought she might be dreaming when you straddled her with a frustrated expression.
You settled, and she was hyper aware of the feeling of your pillowy ass dropped down onto her thighs over her warm crotch.
“Okay, say I’m here. In this position.” You explain as well as you can, and when you give a few demonstrative bounces on her phantom cock her hands instinctively land on your hips to steady you. Fuck. Fucking shit. You don’t even seem to notice, or care. “This,” You point at your position. “Is me being in charge and… I don’t want that. It— it doesn’t get me off. I don’t wanna feel like I’m dominating them.” You whisper the last part like you’re telling her a secret at a girly sleepover, and she catches herself grinning before she scrambles, running over what you just said in her brain.
“Wait. Nah, that’s…” She adjusts herself slightly sheepish because she can feel herself blushing. Be cool, Ellie. Be dominant. “Thats bull. It doesn’t matter what position you’re in, it’s about how you make them feel.” She shrugs, and when you continue to stare at her, pink, glossy wide eyes— she carries on, you requiring more explanation. “If you’re on top working overtime, he should be telling you what a good job you’re doin’. How pretty you look doin’ it.” Her voices rasps in the way it does when she gets horny and she hopes she’s not giving herself away. Your mind goes a little blank, succumbing to the daydream of receiving that kind of praise. It makes your skin feel clammy. Louis isn’t below you in your daydream. Your freckled friend breaks your trail of thoughts. “And,” She’s smug now, and raises her knees behind you, planting her feet down on the bed and thrusting upwards a few times making you bounce a little, gripping her tighter. “Doesn’t matter if you were on top. I could still be the one fucking you. Just like this.”
You pause, only because you’re frozen in fear that she can feel the sudden floodgates open between your legs— praying to every God imaginable that you don’t leave some kind of pathetic wet patch on her. She thinks you’ve frozen at what she’s said.
“Uh— I mean Louis. Louis could still be the one— yeah.” She shrugs off, squeezing your hips with her warm fingers and you’re suddenly aware of your compromising position again, shaken from a dream. You slide off her quickly, bringing your knees to your chest and your back to the cool wall beside her bed. You were not a cheater. It doesn’t matter that the two of you didn’t kiss, or fuck, or whatever — what would have happened if Louis had walked in and seen you in your very gay dealers lap, pretending to have sex? You were not a cheater.
Ellie’s mouth was agape, like she wanted to say sorry but just couldn’t find it in her to feel sorry enough to say it. Her eyes were worried however, worried she’d made you uncomfortable or pushed it too far.
“I should… I shouldn’t stay. It’s getting late and—” You started looking for your bag with your laptop in it, where did you put it again?
“I’m sorry I— I didn’t mean to be weird. That was… I made you feel—” Her tone was apologetic now.
“No, no. It’s not that. I’m just hungry and I get weird when I’m… when I haven’t eaten. You’re fine. I mean, you were fine. Nothing weird just… friends hanging out, right?”
It hurt her, but Ellie nodded anyway. You were going back to him. It always ended this way.
“‘Kay. You got everything? You gonna be okay getting back? You’re still high.” Ellie stood, awkwardly dawdling behind you as you scooped up your purse. “I can walk you back—” She started patting her pockets for her key card.
“It’s okay, really. It’s still light outside and it’s a short walk. I think I need just… fresh air and quiet.” You avoid her eyes, but turn to face her as you back towards her door.
“Okay.” She was disappointed. “I hope you feel better now, ‘n stuff.” Your hand pushed the cold metal handle down and the hallway of her building was just as muggy, but it felt like a relief when some of the smoke from her dorm was released.
“I do.” You could look now, standing in the hallway as she didn’t move past her doorway. The distance made it safe enough to look at her pretty eyes without feeling you were going to do something bad. “Thank you Ellie. I owe you one.” Your brows knit together sincerely. Sure, I have a favour I need — break up with your boyfriend.
“Sure.” Ellie left it there, shook her head like it was nothing. “Text me and just… let me know that you got in okay. Yeah?” She continued to speak to you as you backed up down the hallway, awkwardly fumbling with your bag. It was wrong to let a girl walk back home high and alone. She thought about you walking around drunk and alone at that frat party. She was Louis this time.
“Will do. See you, Ellie.” Her name sounded like music when you said it. She had a new favourite song.
Your dorm was cooler, refreshing to be in when you got back. Your first mission was to look in the mirror and you sighed almost angrily seeing how flustered and a little dishevelled you look. You wanted to take the clothes off that touched her, still stinking of weed. You wanted food in your belly to flush her out. Flopping onto your back on your bed you pull your phone out, ignoring the texts and calls from your boyfriend — all to send a message to your dealer.
‘got back safe, thanks again😊’ You regret the emoji, but the Read: 5:13PM was immediate so there was no time to regret it for long. Three bubbles and then ‘Good’. You stare at the text, and then stare past the phone. You didn’t want to answer Louis right now. He could wait until tomorrow.
part two
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skzdarlings · 1 year
Text
07. sharing a bed series ; skz ; seungmin
masterlist.
sharing a bed series part 7/8. because it’s the cheesiest most classic trope and it’s FUN. -
pairing: kim seungmin/reader content info: sexual content. enemies2lovers, sharing a bed trope. sassy bad girl reader, sassy good boy seungmin. handcuffed together trope. sex toys, blow jobs, strap-on blow jobs, handjobs, dick piercings, fake sex. lots of bickering, lots of moaning, lots of evil smirking hehe.
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It takes about ten minutes to get through the doorway because neither you or Seungmin will concede ground.  With your right hand handcuffed to his left hand, your shoulder-to-shoulder breadth is too big for the doorframe. 
After some arguing, you face each other.  You are glaring the entire time but you manage to force your way into the bedroom. 
You can’t change clothes with the handcuffs so you head straight for the bed where you proceed to stumble around clumsily.  With some cussing and your failed attempt to put him in a headlock, you and Seungmin manage to get in bed. 
You lay on your backs with your handcuffed hands between you.
There is a minute of silence.   Everyone else went to bed hours ago so the vacation house is silent.   It’s just you and the most annoying man on earth, forcibly handcuffed together, stuck in the same bed.    
“My life is a joke,” you say. 
“Yeah,” Seungmin says.  “Your life is a joke.  Ow!”
He slaps your hand when you pinch his thigh and you smack his chin only for him to chomp at your fingers.  You both roll your eyes and look away from each other for all of ten seconds, then you glare at him and he gives you a judgemental stare. 
“How are you going to sleep like that?” he asks. 
You raise your joined hands, the chain jingling.   
“Wow, Seungmin, whatever do you mean?” you say dryly.     
“Wow, Seungmin, meh-meh-beh-beh,” he mocks your tone then uses his free hand to smack your arm.  It makes a crinkling sound when it collides with the leather jacket you can’t remove.  “I’m talking about the skinned cow on the cow.”
“Funny.”
“The skinned cow is the leather jacket.”
“I know that.”
“And you’re the other cow.”
“I got it, Seungmin.”
“Just checking,” he says with that blithe, shit-eating grin of his. “You’re just not very smart so I wanted to be nice and check.”   
This fucking guy.  
Kim Seungmin is the mouthiest smartass you have ever met.  A friend of your friends, the acquaintanceship has been forced on you for the sake of the overall friend group.   You two are like oil and water, completely incompatible in every way.  You are the denim-and-leather bad girl and he is the blazer-and-tie good boy.  Equally sassy, but astronomically apart in lifestyle.   You clashed from your first introduction. 
You can usually manage an hour or two of civility, especially if you stay out of each other’s way, but this vacation has pushed that strained dynamic to its breaking point. 
Changbin’s family owns a vacation house near a ski resort so your whole friend group is spending the winter holidays at the luxury cabin.  This means you and Seungmin have been forced to interact for much longer than a few hours. 
You expected some annoyance but Seungmin is an even bigger brat than you remembered.  You have already spent three days at each other’s throats.  Tonight you went to a party at the resort and the few hours away from him did wonders, but it only took one stupid remark for you start fighting all over again. 
You didn’t even have time to remove your boots or jacket.  With Seungmin, it was on sight. 
Fed-up, Minho leapt off the couch and disappeared into his bedroom.  The others were just groaning or slouched in their seats, shaking their heads at you and Seungmin.   You couldn’t stop if you wanted to, every dry remark needing a comeback, every insult escalating. 
Then Minho returned.  He yanked Seungmin out of his seat and practically threw him at you.   You should have let his stupid face hit the ground but your reflexes kicked in and you caught him in his flail.  There were a few seconds of confusion before Minho clasped the handcuffs around you.   The whole room went silent, you and Seungmin staring at the cuffs then looking at Minho. 
Minho dangled the keys in your face.  
“I will let you out of the handcuffs,” he spoke as if speaking to particularly stupid children, “when you overcome your differences and decide to stop ruining the holiday.”
You and Seungmin both sputtered in protest, but neither of you were brave enough to physically fight Minho for the keys.  That kitty has claws, mean ones.  Not even you mess with Lee Minho. 
Now you and Seungmin are stuck sharing a bed.  You are still fully dressed, in jeans, shirt, and leather jacket, whereas he was already dressed down in pyjama pants and a t-shirt.  All he has to do is remove his glasses and he’s fine to sleep. 
You, however, are dressed for a whole different kind of evening.
“Trust me,” you say with an aggrieved sigh, “the jacket is not the most uncomfortable thing I’m wearing.”
He pinches his glasses at the stem, wiggling them up-and-down like it will help him see better. 
“What do you mean?” he asks.  “Wait, you’re a freak, right?  Is it something kinky?”
He asks it mockingly but you smile and turn your face to him, lifting an eyebrow.  You get some satisfaction from the way his face contorts with realization.
“Wait, really?” he asks.  “What the hell.  Why?  What is it?”
“You sound curious.” 
You really can’t help but tease him, anticipating he will snap back with equal verve.  You are surprised when his remark gets tangled on his tongue, his mouth open with no reply.  The tips of his ears are faintly red. 
“Oh, you are curious,” you say.
“Gross, no way.”  He comes back to himself and scrunches his whole face with revulsion.  “Keep it to yourself.  Pervert.”
“Proudly.”
“Wow.”
You feel satisfied with the silence that follows, feeling like you finally won a conversation and sent him into a mute stupor.  But then he looks at you and you brace yourself for the incoming wave of irritation. 
“It’s not gonna suddenly go off or something, is it?” he asks.  “I don’t want to wake up to you thrashing around like a fish on a boat deck.”
“It’s a hard packer.  You know, a strap-on for wearing out?  A ready-to-go, signed-sealed-and-delivered dick?”  You list everything with the same pleasant smile.  “Big one too.” 
His face is perpetually frozen in a state of prepared ridicule so he still looks marginally judgemental, but more confused than repulsed. 
“Right now?” he says.  His eyes drift down to your jeans.  “You wore… you wore it out?”
“Brave new world, Seungminnie,” you say, the nickname making his eye twitch despite the sarcasm in it. 
“You’re lying,” he says.  He doesn’t wait for you to argue; he reaches with his cuffed hand to feel for extra weight between your legs.  It drags your own hand along with it, too surprised to react fast enough to stop him.  He finds what he was looking for, his brow furrowing when he closes his fist over the hard bulge under your fly.   “Whoa, wait, seriously?” 
“Dude!”  You pry his hand off, though he doesn’t go without a fight, patting it like it’s puppy.  “What the hell, man.  You can’t just grab someone’s dick like that.”
“Why not? It’s not real.”
“It is in a way!  I can still feel it!”
“You can?”  He pokes it.    
“Yes.” You swat him away.   “Depending on position.”     
“And you wore it to the party?” he says, then whistles low and shakes his head.  “Wow.  You have a high opinion of yourself.  Thought you were gonna get lucky?” 
“I did very well for myself, thanks.”
He holds up your cuffed hands with a sarcastic look of his own. 
“Not that well,” he says.  “Or you wouldn’t be here.” 
“I don’t tend to stay the night,” you say. 
“Love ‘em and leave ‘em,” he says.  “I should have known.”  He sighs as if disappointed in you. 
You barely register his retort, your brain jumping ahead a few paces.  
Walking around with ready-to-play silicone in your pants does have a tendency to leave you teetering on the side of horny, so maybe that’s why your brain is incapable of supplying another type of plan, but a plan begins to form nonetheless.
“I have an idea,” you say. 
“Breaking your wrist so you can slide out of the handcuffs?”
“Kim Seungmin, I’ll let you know that while I might have one hand out of commission, I am still capable of shoving your slipper in your mouth.” 
“Kim Seungmin, meh-meh-meh, beh-beh-beh.”
“Why do I even bother?”  You sigh.  “Do you wanna get out of these handcuffs or not?”
“Fine.”  He fiddles with his glasses and glares at you.  “I’m going to regret asking this, but what’s your idea?”
You sit up and nod your head towards the wall behind the headboard. 
“Minho’s room is on the other side of this wall, isn’t it?”  you ask.   
“Yes,” he replies, warily.  “Why?”
“Let’s pretend to have noisy sex.”
“What!”  He sits upright too, the cuffs jingling again.
“We can bang the headboard against the wall,” you add.
“What the hell is that supposed to accomplish, you idiot?”
“Two things,” you say.  “One: that we have clearly resolved our differences through the release of sexual tension.  And two: if we are exceptionally noisy about it, it will piss him off enough to want to separate us again.” 
“That is a terrible plan,” he says, which is not a rejection.  “Besides there’s no sexual tension between us.  There’s no way he’d believe it.”
“Well then,” you say, leaning closer to his face, “you better put on a believable performance to make up for it, hm?” 
You expected him to lean back but he didn’t move, so you find yourself nose-to-nose and locked in a staring contest.  It is so quiet that you can hear every intake of breath.   His gaze goes from your eyes to your lap and back again, jaw clenching.
“Fine,” he says.  “I’m only willing to try because I’d rather chew off my hand than spend the night with you—”
“I mean, you can try that too,” you say. 
“Shut up.”  He grabs the collar of your jacket and jerks you around.  “Just get down.”
“Uh, get down?” You push when you realize he is trying to wrestle you onto your back.  You lift your joined hands off the bed so he loses his balance.  “You get down. I’m on top.”
“Can you relax?” he says, scrambling back upright.  “We’re not actually having sex, you uptight weirdo.”    
“Yeah, but do you think those skinny arms can push this headboard against the wall?”
“I think these skinny arms can push you off the bed.” 
“I think those skinny arms will find themselves following.” 
You tussle for a good minute, pushing at each other’s faces and tugging each other’s shirts.  Your physical strength overpowers his but he isn’t hindered by a stupid leather jacket.   Already a bit sweaty and exhausted, you surrender with an aggravated huff. 
“Fine, try it then,” you say, flopping on your back.  You stubbornly cross your arms, trapping his cuffed hand in your arm. 
“Let me go,” he says, trying to wrest his arm back. 
“I’m not doing anything.  Ahh, stop that!”
He tires to lick you.  Tongue out, he dives at your head.  He only stops when you snatch his glasses off his face, at which point he climbs on top of you to try and grab them back. 
“Stop it. This is so immature,” he says, stretching to reach your own outstretched arm.
“Immature?” you ask, aghast.  “You were trying to lick me!”
“That was different.”
“How?”  
“Because you suck,” he says. 
He manages to get his glasses back.  He sticks out his tongue as he puts them on his face. 
You tussle a little more, shuffling around and swiping at each other.  Eventually you get to the middle of the bed with him still straddling your hips.  Your cuffed arm lifts when he grips the headboard with both hands.  He strains for one pitiful push.  His hair bounces but the headboard barely hits the wall. 
You lift an eyebrow. 
“Shut up,” he says.
“I didn’t say anything,” you reply.
“I can hear your ugly face.”
“That’s a you problem.”
He ignores you and braces himself to push on the headboard again.  All the beds are extravagantly woodworked pieces, the headboards dense and heavy.  Despite the proximity to the wall, you are not surprised it takes effort to actually make the bed bounce.  
Seungmin, to his credit, does not give up easily.  He braces his shoulders, but this time when he pushes he rocks with his whole body.  
Unfortunately, this does drag almost all his weight against the toy in your pants.  You are wearing the kind of underwear designed to support a toy, the base of it separated from your clit by only a strip of fabric.  When he rocks against you, it grinds there, and your hands instinctively fly to grab his hips.
It knocks him a bit off balance because your cuffed hand drags his down too.  He puts that hand over yours, cupped around his hip, and glares down at you. 
“What the hell was that?” he asks. 
You let go of his hips immediately. 
“Nothing,” you say.
He looks at you with a scrutinizing eye, then looks down, then up again.   You hold his gaze unflinchingly, at least until he rocks again and a little spark of heat goes off inside you. 
“Can you feel that?” he asks.  He asks it matter-of-factly, peering down at you from behind his big round glasses, sitting comfortably in his stupid pyjamas. 
“Yes,” you speak in as steady a voice as you can, because you will not show weakness first.   “There are only a couple positions where I can feel it strongly.  This… is… one of them.” 
“Wow,” he says.  He looks genuinely reflective for a minute, then he grins one of his evil grins.  “So… you can feel when I do this?”  He puts his free hand on the middle of your chest and leans forward so he grinds against you at a different angle, his own bulge pushing against yours. 
“Ohmyff—”  You grab his hips again, freezing him while he snickers above you.  “Dude.” 
“Just checking,” he says.  He grabs the headboard and pushes again.  The thud is a soft one. 
You clench your jaw, annoyed and wound up.  You grab his waist and roll over in one fluid motion, knocking some wind out of him when you thump him on his back.   His thighs clench instinctively to hold onto your hips, his legs still around your waist when you grab the headboard and shove it several times in a row.  
His cuffed arm is above his head, hand dangling under your grip on the headboard.  His glasses are askew from the flip, his legs still open around yours.  He stares at you, however crookedly through the tilted glasses.  Your breathing is heavy in the quiet room.  He swallows.
You break the silence with a pointed, “Well?”
“Well, what?” he asks just as roughly. 
“Moan or yell or something.  Whatever you normally do in bed.”
“I’m normally quiet.”
“I find that hard to believe,” you say dryly.  “Since that mouth never stops.”  
“Why don’t you moan?” 
“Because I’m in charge of bed pushing.”  To make your point, you rock the bed some more, pushing slightly against him with the motion.  The headboard hits the wall for a few rhythmic thumps. 
He fixes his glasses with his free hand, still frowning at you.  That hand freezes on his glasses when you shrug your coat off your free arm, too hot to keep wearing it.  It will only get caught on the handcuffs if you push it down the other arm so you leave it hanging off your shoulder.  You put your hand back on the headboard, muscles flexing with the next shove.   His eyes go to your arm. 
“Well?” you say.  
He looks at you.  It’s a cold, unfeeling stare, followed by an annoyed puff of a breath. 
Then he makes a sound, a small, rough moan in the back of his throat.   You are certain only you can hear it.   He looks right at you while doing it, legs still accommodating your shape, on his back with an open mouth while glaring at you despite the noises.
It is, in a word, hot.  Hot as fucking hell.  Oh god.  You are not getting turned on by Kim Seungmin.  Absolutely not. 
He moans again, closing his eyes and shifting with the next push, as if he can really feel it.   He cants his hips and falls back again.  He moans one more time.
Ah, you think.  Fuck. 
You stop shoving the bed for a second, breathless and not from exertion. 
You clear your throat.  Seungmin is still staring at you.  You stare back, then your gaze drifts.  The leather jacket starts to slip down your shoulder so you tug it back up.  You gulp. 
“You’re hard,” you say, a very basic observation.  His soft pyjama pants leave little to the imagination.
He drops his legs from around your waist, but you are between his thighs so he can’t quite close them.  He plants his feet on the bed and glares up at you. 
“So are you,” he says.
“Mine’s not real,” you say.  
“Ohh, so now it’s not real?”  He rolls his eyes.  “Sorry, I can’t keep up with Schrodinger’s dick.” 
“You know what I mean, smartass.”  
“If anything yours is more real,” he says.  “Your dick is more deliberate than mine.  I can’t control my hard-on but you put one there on purpose.” 
That logic is a weirdly difficult to argue.  You try to think of a witty comeback but your brain is more than a little fried. 
“So,” is all you say, at a loss. 
He stares up at you for another second, then pushes himself upright.  You let his cuffed hand lead yours, at least until you realize he is bringing his hands to the button of your jeans.  You seize his cuffed hand and tug it away. 
“What do you think you’re doing?” you ask.
“What do you think I’m doing?” he asks contemptuously.  He even snarls. 
Despite the viciousness, he dives in without waiting for an answer.  He uses his free hand as a guide, but otherwise he leans forward and clamps his teeth around the button.  He works it open quickly, then takes the zipper in his mouth and yanks it down. 
You let go of his hand, surprised.  He uses both hands to fish the toy out of your pants. 
He balks at it. 
“You walked around with this all night?” he asks, looking up at you. 
Fuck.  It is literally right by his face.  It looks obscene.  Your figures twitch with the urge to cup his chin. 
“Yes,” you answer in a low voice.  “It’s my preferred method of, uh, action.”
“Action,” he repeats, smiling like the word is a hilarious punchline.  He even cackles a little.  “Action,” he repeats.  “Not ‘making love?’”  His tone is drole. 
“Not really the making love type,” you say. 
“Wow,” he says.  His eyes flick to your toy dick, just millimeters from his face.  He pushes his glasses up his nose.  He glances up at you with that evil smile.   “Same,” he says. 
Then suddenly he has his mouth wrapped around the end of it, looking up at you as he sucks on it. 
For a second, you think you have gone completely insane, because you swear you can feel it.  Your clit and pussy and every other body part rears to life with sudden, unbidden arousal. 
“Jesus fucking—” you start.
He pops off your dick with a wet sound.   He licks his lips. 
“Hmm,” he says, eying it thoughtfully.  “Tastes funny.   Could you feel that?”
“Kinda,” you squeak.  “In a way.”
“Got it.” 
Is this even turning him on?  His dick is filling out his pyjama pants so you think so, but he is also approaching the entire thing like it can be hacked through a scientific algorithm.   He studies the toy with a lot of scrutiny, as if he is calculating the mechanics of it. 
“You don’t have to—” you start, but then suddenly his mouth is back on the end of it, his free hand is in the middle of it, and he is pushing it back against you, clearly having figured out you can feel the part against your clit.  He grinds it there, up and down, bobbing his head and staring up at you. 
It is usually fairly difficult to reach orgasm this way but he takes you the edge in an almost terrifying speed run, then abruptly stops.  He takes in a deep breath, a huge wad of spit connecting his lips to the end of the toy.
“Did that do something?” he asks, wiping his mouth. 
Your jacket slips down your arm and catches on the handcuffs.  You stare at him.
“Uhhh…” you say, voice guttural.  “Yes.” 
He grins, looking immensely satisfied with himself. 
“That wasn’t so hard,” he says.  “I thought it would be more complicated.  I’m guessing gravity works in your favour when someone sits on it?” 
Yes, that is your brain spilling out of your ear in a big, mushy goop. 
“Uh, yeah,” you say.  “Yeah.”  What the fuck else are you supposed to say? 
He suddenly narrows his eyes at you, his regard suspicious even while he starts jerking the toy with his free hand. 
“How do I know you’re not lying?” 
You show him the only way that makes sense, leading his cuffed hand to your pants and nudging the toy aside so he can slip his fingers past it.  He freezes completely when he feels how turned on you are, looking up at you as he returns his now wet fingers to himself. 
“Oh,” he says.  He looks at his fingertips.  “I see.” 
Then he grins at you and puts his fingers in his mouth. 
“Right,” you say.  “Got it.” 
You grab him and put him on his back again, reaching immediately for his waistband.  You have barely grasped the material when you are suddenly shoved back, his foot planted squarely in the middle of your chest. 
“Slippers first,” he says.  
He is just being difficult.  You know that, but you indulge the little brat anyway, glaring at him while removing his stupid slipper.  You toss it behind you and he switches feet, shoving his other one in the same spot.  He smiles at you, leaning back on his elbows at tapping his slippered toes against your heart.   You shake your head but remove that one too.  Before he can try any more funny business, you grab him under the knee and push his knees back to his chest.  His glasses slip a little again.  His cuffed hand can’t leave yours, hooked under his knee, so his free hand awkwardly reaches up to fix them. 
“Careful,” he says, like you’ve been the unreasonable one in any way, shape, or form. 
“I’ll try,” you say dryly, then reach for his waistband. 
You get the material barely shuffled past his hips when your jaw falls open. 
“Hold on,” you say, fingers reaching for his twitching dick.   “No way.  No way.” 
Kim Seungmin.  Blazer-and-tie good boy.  Pristine socialite.   Arrogant snob.   High society darling.   Spoiled brat.  Good boy.  Good boy.   Good boy. 
He has a classically beautiful piercing on the head of his dick. 
He opens his mouth to speak, his expression revealing it is about to be some mouthy retort, but it turns into a gasp when you run your thumb up and over, teasing at it, gathering a not-inconsiderable amount of precum and stroking the whole length of him. 
“Aren’t you pretty,” you say, circling the most sensitive cluster of nerves with your thumb.   It makes his thighs twitch and his shoulders shake. 
“S-surprised?” he asks. 
“Honestly, yeah,” you admit. 
He looks very satisfied with that, grinning at you.  That evil smile drives you crazy so you flash a grin of your own then dive down. 
His fake moans were pretty close to his real ones, but his real ones are louder as you expected.  He has to bite his fist to keep the sound down.  You rise, wiping at your mouth and glaring at him. 
“Louder,” you say.  “Remember?”
“Oh, right.”  He drops his hand.  “Your stupid plan.  Okay.  Continue.”  He waves you onward like a prince, thumping his head back on the pillows. 
He is so annoying.  He really does have a pretty dick, though.  Drawing real moans out of him is more fun than arguing over fake ones, and he makes some exceptionally lovely sounds when you put your mouth on him.  He starts gasping when he gets close, his face scrunching up, but he grabs your head and stops before he gets there fully. 
You look at him with a questioning eyebrow lift but move when he nudges you.  He gets on his knees so you are kneeling in front of each other, then he guides your hand back to his dick at the same time he curls his fingers around the base of your toy.  
Your eyes are heavy-lidded and your mouths are close together but not touching.  It feels like another contest, to see who will give in and kiss the other person first, even while your hands are way past that stage. 
Fuck it, you think when he gets a bit whiny, breathing hard against your lips.  You clasp your free hand around his neck and drag him close for a kiss.  It makes him come, his back locking and mouth opening under yours.  He wouldn’t be Seungmin if he didn’t try and turn a kiss into a fight, licking at you with messy intensity.  The rapid back-and-forth of his tongue coupled with his skilled hand takes you over the edge too. 
You get a bit euphorically giggly when you come, smiling against his mouth. 
Seungmin turns unexpectedly clingy, putting his free arm around your neck and burying his face in your shoulder.  He holds so tightly that you fall, flopping onto the bed with him still nestled against you.  
You lay there for a bit, him still hiding, your heavy breathing slowing to a more normal cadence.  Eventually he lifts his head and exhales.  He adjusts his crooked glasses then grins. 
“I won,” he says.
“You can’t win at sex,” you reply.
“Yes you can, and I just did.  Don’t be a sore loser.”
“Oh my god.” 
Your exchange passes with far less animosity than usual.  You still side-eye each other while dealing with your respective dicks.  It’s a little easier for him to pull up his pants one-handed than it is for you to wrestle a toy out of an O-ring, but you do succeed.  You let it roll off the edge of the bed, watching and listening as it thumps onto the floor. 
You look over Seungmin who was watching too.  When you make eye contact, you both start laughing.  It turns the whole scene into an unusually affectionate one.  Figuring you might as well commit, you hold his cuffed hand in your own.  He rolls closer, eying you with those perpetually mischievous eyes.
Then suddenly the bedroom door flies open.  It smashes into the wall, startling both of you. 
Minho walks up to the bed and chucks the keys at you, glares, then turns and leaves the room.  He slams the door shut behind him. 
You and Seungmin look at each other then down at the keys. 
“Told you,” you say. 
“Don’t rub it in.”
“Don’t be a sore loser.”
He licks your cheek unprompted, then unlocks the cuffs while you complain and wipe your face.  It has you so distracted that you are a second too late realizing he has another dastardly plan in mind. 
Your wrist is still cuffed.  He takes the now empty half and clasps it around one of the intricate loops in the headboard.   You tug on it then look at him. 
“Kim Seungmin,” you say. 
“Kim Seungmin,” he repeats in that mocking voice, grinning as he climbs up over you. 
“What do you think you’re doing?” you ask, trying not to smile at his wicked grin as he starts kissing under your chin and down your chest.
“What do you think I’m doing?” he asks.  “I’m winning.”
You decide not to argue for once.   It goes without saying you both won this round. 
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ladykailitha · 2 months
Text
The Harrington Pattern Part 9
As you guys wanted, here's me doubling up on posting days. It will (hopefully) be twelve hours apart so that each chapter can get some love.
In this chapter we have a lot of flirting between Eddie and Steve. The Party being "meh" *shrugs shoulders* at Steve being bi. And Robin being the most soulmate a guy could ask for.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8
MY TAG LIST FOR THIS STORY IS CLOSED!!!!
@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03
****
That night they were all gathered to watch the amateur theatrical society put on Much Ado About Nothing.
Even the ones who had been reluctant to join in were doubled over in laughter at the trick the Prince pulled on Beatrice and Benedict. The way they cried when Hero was accused of cheated on Claudio. And cheered when it was resolved happily ever after.
Mike complained about it all the way to the car. “We were forced to read this play in eighth grade and I hated it. I never knew it was funny.”
Eddie put his arm around his shoulder. “That is the unfortunate side effect of the education system. They suck the joy out of all of everything.”
“Normally I’m rolling my eyes at Eddie’s rants,” Robin said, “but I’m going to have to agree with him on this one. They just want sanitized versions of everything.”
Steve nodded. “Like what’s with the jump in American history when we stop in eighth grade at the Civil War and then all the way to WWII in eleventh grade, with only a brief mention of WWI as it related to WWII. Are they really trying to tell us that nothing happened in those eighty years of note? Like the fuck?”
Mike blinked at him. “Holy shit, I never even realized.”
The kids looked around at each other in shock.
“They push math and science,” Eddie continued, “but shit on everything else, except sports.”
He winced when realized what he had said. He looked over at Steve with an apology on his lips, but Steve was nodding.
“And they have to be the right sports, too,” Steve agreed. “Wrestling, swimming, soccer...anything outside the big three baseball, football, or basketball. Trust me, I got a lot of flack on being on the swim team. It was ‘gay’.”
“What?” Will squawked. “Why?”
Eddie licked his lips. “Little, teeny, tiny uniforms.” He emphasized the point holding his fingers not that far apart.
Dustin snorted. “Can’t be any worse than the basketball shorts.”
Steve looked upwards as he chewed on the bottom of his lip.
Dustin’s eyes bulged out of his head. “How much worse are we talking about here?”
“Speedo.”
Lucas frowned. “What the fuck is a Speedo?”
Eddie was practically vibrating in his skin. “Can I tell them, Stevie? Can I please?”
Steve let out a little sigh. The sigh the Party lovingly called his mom sigh. It was the sound he made when he knew no mater what he did it was going to end badly for him, so he just...let it happen.
He waved at Eddie to go ahead.
“Instead of swim trunks, that have a leg on them,” Eddie crowed, “Speedos are swim underpants. They cover the junk, the ass, and that’s it.”
“And you deliberately wore these things?” Max asked in interest. More interest than Lucas or any of the guys were comfortable with.
“I’m good at it,” Steve said, blush creeping up his ears and down his throat from the stain on his cheeks. “The uniform wasn’t as bad Eddie’s making it out to be.”
Gareth snorted. “Nope, they really are that bad. There was a period of time where–”
Eddie slammed his hand over Gareth’s mouth. “There’s no need to tell them about that, Gare.”
Steve looked over at Brian.
“Your senior year Eddie forced all of Hellfire to watch your meets.”
“Bri!” Eddie protested.
Steve looked over at Eddie and raised an eyebrow. “You like the...what was you it called it,” he said tapping his finger on his lips, “the ‘little, teeny, tiny’ uniform, Eds?”
Eddie threw his arms in the air. “I am but a gay man in a small town, so sue me!”
“I always preferred the lifeguard uniforms at the community pool,” Steve said. “Less wedgies.”
“Babe,” Eddie scoffed, “those shorts and tank left very little to the imagination. At least with the Speedo you knew what you were getting. With the lifeguard uniform it was all fantasy.”
Steve laughed. “I bet you were the kind who faked drowning to get CPR from their favorite lifeguard.”
“I can honestly say, I’ve never done that.”
“Yeah?” Steve asked all smiles. “Can you prove that?”
Eddie got up close to him and whispered, “Yeah, darlin’. I think I would have remembered you rescuing me before the Upside Down.” He winked at him and sauntered off. The rest of the band hastily said their goodbyes and hurried after their ride home.
Steve’s face was as red as his old life guard uniform. “Right. Let’s get home, yeah?”
Dustin eye’s narrowed at him for a moment. “Steve Harrington, are you crushing on my DM?”
The remaining eight looked at Dustin in shock.
“Dude!” Will hissed. “You can’t just ask that in public! What if someone overheard you?”
Dustin looked around and waved his hand around him. “There is literally no one here. I wouldn’t do that if I didn’t think it was a safe time to ask. But I’m going home with my mom as soon as she gets here and I will not be stymied.”
Steve ducked his head. “And if I did like boys, that would be okay with everyone?”
Everyone just looked around at each other and there was this collective shrug.
“Do you still like girls?” Max asked, genuinely curious.
Steve nodded shyly.
Lucas frowned. “You can like both?”
“Like David Bowie!” El said with her serene smile. “He likes both. Freddie Mercury from Queen, too.”
Steve snapped his fingers. “Exactly like that, El!”
Her smile grew.
“It’s okay if you like Eddie that way,” Mike said softly.
All the heads snapped to look at him.
He rolled his eyes. “Yes, okay. I have a lot to work on regarding the whole Lucas thing, but I’m not a complete ass.”
“Thank you,” El said and kissed his cheek. “You just have a lot growing up to do. We all do. We just need to give each other the chances to do so safely. Or at least that’s what Joyce keeps telling me.”
Steve gave her a hug. “Thanks, Supergirl.”
He looked out at all his friends. The people who were more his family then his own parents.
“I might have a small...” he raised his finger and thumb, “crush on a certain metalhead DM who recently joined the Party in March...”
Robin scoffed. “And by little he means huge!” She spread out her arms all the way out.
Dustin’s head snapped around to Steve. “If you two get together, he better treat you right. You deserve it.”
Steve blinked. Considering how Dustin had worded his original question, he had been sure that Dustin was going to him not to break Eddie’s heart.
He gave Dustin a hug and kissed the top of his head.
He really shouldn’t have doubted this kid.
Just then, Claudia pulled up in her station wagon and Dustin, El, Will and Mike all piled in after saying their goodbyes.
“He totally has the hots for you, by the way,” Max said dryly.
Steve blinked at her for a moment. “How do you know that? Does he spend all his days learning alt rock on his guitar or something for me?”
Max just blinked at him. “Huh. You aren’t as stupid as I thought.” And then she just started walking toward the car.
Steve scratched his cheek thoughtfully. “So to make sure I got this right, Max is saying Eddie has the hots for me because he’s been learning my favorite songs for me on his guitar?”
“That���s what it sounded like to me, man,” Lucas said with a half shrug.
“I’m with Lucas on this one,” Robin agreed. “So maybe you should do what I’ve been suggesting for the last three weeks and you know ASK HIM OUT!”
Lucas giggled.
“Shush you,” Steve admonished. “Get to the car.” He pointed at Robin. “You are spending the night with me to help plan out something cool.”
Robin saluted and Lucas just rolled his eyes and they all walked to the car to end another great night at the fair.
****
“Let’s play to your strengths,” Robin said, sitting cross-legged on Steve’s bed.
“Sports, sewing, and history,” Steve said, ticking them off on his fingers. “Fat lot of good that’s going to do me. It’s not as though I can whip out something overnight as a token of my affection.”
She rolled her eyes. “It doesn’t have to be something fancy. You could do something small. Like maybe use that fancy red thread you got at the weavers yesterday.”
He blushed. “I wouldn’t know where to start. Everything I know how to make is either winter stuff or something he’d never use.”
“He uses that handkerchief all the time,” Robin pointed out. “You could do something like that.”
Steve flopped dramatically on his back. “Not if he knew it was made from that fancy thread I got. He’d want to protect it.”
Robin had to give him that one. Because that would be an Eddie thing to do. And while the sentiment was sweet it would make Steve sad that he never used it.
Suddenly Steve sat up. “Oh!”
She blinked at him. “What’s ‘oh’?”
“He was telling me just last week,” he explained, “that the bag he used to hold all his dice for their game got a hole in it and it kept spilling the dice all over the inside of his backpack!”
Robin grinned. “Let’s pick out the best material to match that pretty thread.”
Steve nodded. “I just have to make a quick phone call to find out how big the bag should be and I can have this done in no time at all.”
He called Dustin and told him his idea. Dustin was ecstatic and told him everything he needed to know.
Robin and Steve then dug into his material stores and picked out a nice black felt and a satin red lining to make doubly sure Eddie wouldn’t lose the dice down the gaping maw that was his backpack.
He then showed Robin how to make patterns and cut them. Then he got to work.
Even with how easily Robin got bored, she watched the whole time with fascination. How he embroidered his pattern into what would be the front of the bag. How quickly and evenly Steve stitched the pieces of cloth together. He explained the process every step of the way and her eyes just lit up.
He turned the bag right side out and fitted it with silver draw string. He pulled it taut and held it up to Robin to see.
She reached out and gently took it from him. “That’s so cool. You do a bunch of these at work and send them to Katie as way to gauge reactions to your work, while you make bigger pieces.”
Steve licked his lips. “You really think these would sell?”
“And I think Eddie would be pleased as punch that he got the first official Harrington Pattern design.”
Steve took it back from her and smiled. “That would make it even more special, wouldn’t it?”
Robin grinned. “Yes, yes it would.”
He threw his arms around her. “You’re the best soulmate anyone could possibly ask for.”
She blushed but held him tight. “You too, Stevie.”
When Steve finally pulled back he tapped his finger on his lips. “Now what to make you.”
Robin squealed. “But you already made something awesome. The pirate costume was amazing, you don’t have to do more just because you made Eddie something.”
Steve rolled his eyes. “Yes, but I just tailored the clothes. I didn’t make them. I want to make you something.”
She scoffed. “Like the only thing I need are gloves for marching band. Since I have to have hand-me-downs, they are either too tight or way too big.”
His eyes lit up. “I’ve never made gloves before. That would be fun and interesting to try.”
“How would you even measure something like that?” Robin asked, a small amount of hope creeping into her voice.
Steve grinned. “Do you remember those ugly ass hand turkeys they made us draw in elementary school?”
“Yeah, so?”
“Just. Like. That.”
Her eyes went wide. “Wait are you serious?”
Steve just grinned.
****
Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13
I'm not 100% sure my history experience in school is universal in the US, but in order to bridge the gap you actually had to an elective history class called Twentieth Century. Like it was straight up bullshit. And before you ask, you can bet your ass I took that class. It was taught by my favorite teacher. Of course I took that class.
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topmalereaderblog · 9 months
Text
You deserve better // Miguel O'Hara 🌸🚨⚠️
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Theme(s): Fluff / Angst / Mature
Warning(s): Infidelity, abuse, realization, jealous Miguel, happy ending.
Summary: Miguel hates it when people have everything and are still ungrateful for what they have that person being his co-worker, your husband.
Parts: Part 2 / Part 3
Words: 1.6k
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Miguel hated when people were ungrateful it got him upset, and today, he was upset at his co-worker, your husband. You and Miguel met at an Alchemax event. You were alone but held confidence, and when he got to know you, he was surprised, to say the least.
How did someone like your husband end up with some like yourself? You were both complete opposites. You looked well built, confident, a little intimidating, sure but kind no the less. As for your husband, well, he was a chum he was well built like yourself, but his attitude was distasteful, just like a lot of the other jerks that worked here, and as you both talked through the event he got to learn more about you.
(Flashback)
"Can I ask a question?" Miguel said hesitantly.
"Sure," you smiled at him.
"How did you and C/W/N meet? I mean, you don't have to tell me. I'm just curious."
"No, it's fine. we went to the same college together, and I know it might sound touché but we pledged the same frat house."
"Mm, sorry for asking. It's just that you're both so-."
"Different," you finished for him "Yeah he wasn't always like this. We have our good days and bad days like any other couple he's a good guy to me for the most part of it. I guess I just need to try harder," you said, turning to look at your husband he was chatting with a woman.
Miguel could only remember your face that day. You look a little sad, and the more he got to see the way your husband treated you, the more it made him mad for you. You were a catch, at least that's what Miguel thought you often brought your husband lunch, which he usually gave away or through it out in the garbage.
According to Miguel, he felt lucky to try your food after his co-worker offered him the lunch you made for him and fuck was it good.
"Miguel, do you want it? I was gonna through it out but might as well ask."
He started at the lunch box in front of him, "Sure."
"Cool, just give me the box afterward. My husband tends to over due it on lunches." He said, walking away.
When Miguel opened the box, he was impressed the food smelled good, and there was clearly a lot of dedication and love put into it. He picked up the note that was on top of one of the tupperware.
*Love you so much C/W/N I have a late shift today at the station, so I might take a while to get home ill see you later maybe if your up to it we can go to the gym when I return or watch something anyways love you have a good day at work - ❤️❤️❤️ *
Miguel placed the small note to the side, re-reading it periodically while he finished the lunch you prepared.
"Here it was amazing." Miguel said, handing the lunch box back.
"Oh, that's good."
"He also left you this," he said, grabbing the note from his pocket.
"Can you through it for me? I have somewhere to be right now," he said, walking away with the lunch box in hand.
He didn't through it he kept it in a small drawer even though it wasn't for him. The note was sweet he often day dreamed of you bringing him lunch instead of C/W/N. Wait, day dreamed what was he thinking you were a married man and taken he can't be think of you this way but he was as the day went by he often got to eat your prepared lunches keeping the notes you left inside.
The part that made him get annoyed with your husband was when he was bragging about you to his colleagues.
"So wait, he just does whatever you want?"
"Meh, sometimes if I ask for something like massages, he does it, but things like sex are rarer. He is not bad, both top and bottom, but doesn't mean I can't have some side action, " your husband said while the other laughed.
"He's such a stupid guy," one of the colleagues said while they continued to laugh.
Miguel only reacted when he felt the ink in his pen start to spread in his hand, cleaning himself up before it tried.
One day, Miguel bumped into you in the grocery story, and gosh, you looked amazing. You were wearing your cop uniform as you recognized him.
"Hey Miguel, right?" you said, extending your hand out to him.
"Yeah, nice to see you again. How are you?"
"I'm good for the most part. I just got out of a shift, so I'm free for today. I was gonna spend time with C/W/N, but he went out with a friend, but anyways, what about you."
"I've been here and there, nothing much really."
"Mm I- I was gonna get ice cream your welcome to join me if you want."
"Sure, but I'll probably have to leave. I've been really tired this past week." He said walk with you to the cash register bags in hand.
"That's fine. Everyone needs a break sometimes. You look tense. Maybe you should go to a chiropractor sometime it could help."
"Never thought about it."
"Come to my place. I'll give you a massage."
"I wouldn't want to intrude. You're probably gonna be busy later."
"No, I insist I'm basically free this weekend, and C/W/N is gone to. It'll be nice to have a friend around, " you said, smiling at him.
"Okay," he signed out. "At what time I don't mind going after we get ice cream, but I'll need to leave my bags at my house."
"That's fine, how about 6 pm."
"Sounds good," he said as you parted away to get to your cars.
After that day you and miguel became good friends often going to the gym togther since your partner didn't want to go but not only that, somewhere within Miguel, jealousy sprouted, he was jealous of what his co-worker had.
Your place was homey and comfy after the massage you made dinner, and it was amazing, but he also felt pain knowing he didn't have this someone who would treat him like this someone to look forward to. You were amazing, and you deserved better.
It took a couple of months, but one day, you invited Miguel over he was oblivious to what he was gonna walk into as he made his way over to your door and knocked. No answer.
He thought you forgot and started walking away till he heard something fall quickly going back to the door and opening it with force he walked in on you on the floor with blood on seeping from your head as your husband had a belt he landed a whip but before he could do it again Miguel stopped him.
"Calm down," he said, raistraining your husband.
"What the fuck are you doing in my house." He said struggling to get out. Miguel let him go and went to aid you. we have to get him to a hospital, and he'll need stitches.
"Do whatever you want." Your husband said, leaving.
Miguel visited often in the hospital his co-working was bo where to be seen for the past couple of days, and a police report was made for what he did to you.
"Hey," Miguel said, entering your room.
"Hi," you replied. "How has work been?" you asked.
"Good, nothing exciting," he said, taking a seat.
"I caught him," you said, looking forward while your head rested. "He was cheating on me. I started the divorce process. it's my fault." You said he could hear the quiver in your voice and the way your eyes filled with tears.
"It wasn't your fault" Miguel didn't know what to say he didn't know what to do either right now he just felt sympathy for you how a big strong and confident guy like you looks so valuable.
"Wasn't it if I wasn't a bad husband if I was good enough, maybe-"
"You aren't." You were cut off by Miguel. "M/N, I know we only know each other for about what half a year, and in that time, you were the most caring husband I've ever met hell alot of the other spouses don't do what you do." He said, placing his hand on your thigh.
"I know this is a bad moment, but if I'm being honest, I- I was jealous of C/W/N after the event I paid more attention to him, and you. He gave me your lunches. I was gonna tell you about it but I didn't know how. I would read the notes you left him they were cute and sweet." He said, looking down.
You stared at him, and you didn't know what to say.
He took a deep breath. "What I'm trying to say is you deserve better, and I want to be the one to prove to you that I know it too soon." He said getting up.
"All I ask is that when you're ready, give me a chance." He said, walking away with his head down.
"Stay," you said, stopping him from leaving. "It gets lonely here without someone."
"Are you sure I would want to intrude."
"It's nice to have a friend around," you said, scooting over a bit and patting the spot next to you in bed.
This is it. Miguel smiled at you as he walked over and got in bed . He tucked his head under your chin and rested.
"You know you were basically my personal Spiderman," you said, looking down at him.
"Maybe I am," he said, staring at you.
"Well, in that case, you need to wear the suit more often," you said, laughing to yourself.
"Miguel, I'll give you a chance, but I want to move slowly very slowly."
"I'll wait for along as it takes." And with that, you both feel asleep holding each other close, Miguel resting his head on your pecs.
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judeslove · 30 days
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opposites attract
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pairing - jude bellingham x reader (reader wears a dress) genre - fluff, bit of smau warnings - none summary - this req
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everybody knows that jude is a very social person. however, you are the biggest opposite of him, always avoiding conversations with strangers, anxious in spaces with many people, etc.
the way you guys got together was, interesting.
you got a dm from the jude bellingham. your heart was racing, clicking to open the dm.
“interested in going on a date?”
no way, you thought. jude bellingham just asked you on a date? you were even more nervous while thinking about how to respond. you obviously wanted to say yes, but couldn’t stop thinking about the date. like, what would you say to him, what if it was too awkward. fighting your thoughts, you finally settled on a response.
“yes! when would that be?”
you cringed at the reply, shutting your phone. you took a deep breath and leaned onto your bed. head in your hands, you heard a “ping” from your phone.
you took a deep breath, picking up the phone and opening up instagram. seeing that he responded made you mentally jump in excitement.
“9pm, tonight, at the restaurant you posted about”
you panicked, you didn’t even know what to wear, and it was tonight aswell. quickly you ran to your closet and picked out a beautiful black dress. it was slightly loose around the chest part, and had a slit on the left side.
you checked the time. 8.46pm. shoot, you thought. you were now racing against time, knowing it takes you 30 minutes to the restaurant. somehow you had to arrive in 14 minutes.
“just letting you know that im most likely gonna be late since it takes me some time to get there xx”
you closed you phone and got in your car.
you stepped into the restaurant, scanning the people for him. the he was, sitting beside the window. when jude saw you, he smiled and waved at you. you smiled back, already feeling anxious by how many people there were.
“heyy how are you doin’?” jude asked, looking at your dress.
“uhh i’m doing fine, how about you?” you mentally cringed at how awkward you were.
“good, was the food here good?” jude said, trying to lighten up the awkward mood.
“huh? oh yeah, it was” you answered. you were thanking everything when the waiter came. it was horribly awkward, doubting that anything sparked between you and jude.
after your orders, you both went your phones. the food finally came. you ordered your usual, a chicken alfredo pasta, while jude ordered a hamburger along with fries.
“do you mind if i post about the food?” jude questioned, looking at you.
“not at all” you smiled.
judebellingham
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liked by vinijr, rodrygogoes and 6.562.547 others
judebellingham eating at their favourite
view all 345.628 comments
user1 excuse me? THEIR favourite 🤨
↪️ user2 maybe about his mum or something
vinijr 🫣
↪️ user3 is this a confirmation?
user4 everyone, we lost him 😔😔
user5 watch this be a soft launch
↪️ user6 it definitely is
↪️ user7 stop acting delusional and let him live his life
trentarnold66 😂😂
↪️ judebellingham what
↪️ trentarnold66 i thought you’d never pull
↪️ judebellingham shush
but now, you are happier than ever, your relationship blooming. you are still shy though, never too confident to go in public with or without him.
“babe can i post this picture of you?” jude asked you, pointing his phone at you.
“no” you said loud and clear.
“meh, i’ll do it anyways”
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💌 judeslove on tumblr.
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rippersz · 1 year
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𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒕
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A Larissa Weems x F!Reader oneshot (for now) - Normie Reader experiences a very sudden heat for whatever reason and oh good lord Larissa is just so hot how can anyone expect you to work under these conditions… (NSFW: Vulgar, Breeding Kink, Shapeshifting Advantages, All that Jazz) (Larissa is just mentioned/imagined in this.) Am I sorry? Meh.
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There was just something in her that lit something in you.
A fire the likes of which you’d never encountered before. As though a flame was constantly flicked on beneath your heart, causing it to race, causing it to pound, causing it to bring the blood from your limbs up to your cheeks; painting you in a deep blush. Making you dizzy. Making you ache. Making you feel a type of delicious never-ending burn that seemed to spark the very moment you saw her.
Her.
Oh, her.
The same woman that made you realize that you wanted to become heavily acquainted with Lust and all of the friendly benefits it could offer. The very catalyst to your panic and your flush and the shake in your hands as you pressed yourself up against the wall of your shower and imagined it was her doing it instead. Oh how her hands would feel… how her touch would mold… how her teeth would graze and nibble and bite and gnash in ways that sent you spiraling. The muscles in her biceps flexing as she interlocked your hands and forced your arms up over your head, holding you to the chilled tile, making you shiver even if the water was hot.
It felt like the word ‘Please’ was on the very tip of your tongue whenever you passed her in the hall. ‘Please,’ you wanted to murmur to her one day, ‘Please, put me out of my misery and ruin me before I explode.’ Because that’s what it felt like, didn’t it? The strange pull in your bones, crawling up through your veins, invading your mind, it felt like you were being stretched taut and that no amount of self-assured pleasure could help release your tormented body. Explosion, at that point then, was imminent. And dangerous. You could barely concentrate on classes; you could barely pay attention to another person; you could barely think about anything other than her fingers… and her tongue… and those deep bottomless sapphire eyes - staring straight into your soul as you fell apart beneath her.
Some part of you told you that you were going through heat. That the very desperate natural human basic need for pleasure was just that - something a person experienced from time to time. Something that werewolves and cats and animals felt whenever that season came around. But you were a ‘normie’. You’d never felt that before… until Larissa Weems, of course. Until you sat down in a staff meeting one day and peered down at her painted nails and long tapered fingers and delicate hands, woven with blue veins and a wicked strength you’d never seen, and wondered what her index and middle finger would taste like when resting on your tongue. The thought still brought redness to your cheeks and drool to the inside of your mouth. It was just so terribly depraved. So desperate. So needy in a way that you wanted her to say- to tell you- to whisper in your ear while you whimpered into the warm skin of her shoulder.
‘Look at you… such a silly little thing… trembling all for me…’
All for you. All for her. All for Larissa, at all times, no matter what.
You knew that people were starting to worry about you and your actions - especially Larissa herself. She was your boss after all, she was supposed to pick up on any behavioral changes, and you had definitely changed. Without even knowing, you became far more introverted and spent more time alone than you ever had before. Though then again, most of that time was dedicated to taking care of the relentless throb between your thighs. Honestly, sometimes it got so strong that it interrupted your entire day and you had to find some way to ease the strange pangs before they got out of hand.
And you’d been doing a good job. Really, you had. You’d been taking the necessary moments to rid yourself of the feeling for at least a few hours before it came back - and that was enough. It was enough.
Until it wasn’t.
Until it began to hurt.
Until you realized that yes, indeed, you were somehow going through heat - and there was no one there to help you with it.
‘Good morning Larissa,
I just wanted to email you with a quick update and say that I, unfortunately, have fallen quite ill. I don’t think I’m equipped enough to handle my classes, and I’m very sorry for the inconvenience. Knowing this would get worse, I already printed out lesson plans and activities for my students. They’re all on my desk in my classroom.
Thank you - hopefully I get over this soon.
Y/N’
A quick email. That was good. You didn’t specify timing but that was fine. Your ‘heat’, for lack of a better word, had already been happening for about three weeks. If you were correct in your research, it wouldn’t be too much longer - perhaps a week or so more. Though in the long run, it would be a bigger pain in the ass than you expected. Already, your room smelled of sex and was so stuffy that you had to keep a window open constantly. And to get rid of the scent, you resorted to wall plug-ins and incense; they were the best you could think of on the fly. The rest of the issue - such as the air being far too hot - could only be remedied with a lack of clothing and many cold showers.
You supposed that was the best blessing during your time of strife- having an ensuite all to yourself. Staff were given the option to live on campus or live near Jericho, but you decided that ease of access was more important than living utterly alone. And, another plus that allowed you to let out a sigh of relief from time to time, was the fact that the teacher’s wing was very far from the students’. So any of the werewolves that wandered the halls wouldn’t smell you - as long as you stayed in your room. Thus, the email. And the isolation. And the constant worry that often came as an after-thought during your moments of… reprieve.
Even then, you truly felt you were going mad.
Tears often leaked from the corners of your eyes at night when you twisted around in bed, trying (and failing) to keep your hands from wandering about your body. You’d never experienced the phrase ‘instinctive’ to such an extent until that span of time where your searching fingers tip-tapped their way down the soft skin of your rounded tummy and found themselves drawing circles around your clit without thinking. Because it was all done without thinking. Even thinking was done without thinking.
Most of the time, your head was filled with thoughts of your boss. It was always Larissa. It was always Larissa and it was always her tall figure dwarfing your own, pushing you into a state of submission that you wanted to fall into anyway. She wouldn’t even have to try very hard - she wouldn’t even have to bend you over her lap and spank you red unless you came without her permission and she wouldn’t even- she-
‘Y/N,
I’m very sorry to hear you’ve fallen ill; please don’t worry about your classes as I can provide a substitute immediately. That being said, take as much time as you need to recover. I’ll stop by later today to chat briefly about the form you can fill out for an extended absence. Thank you for letting me know and I sincerely hope you feel better soon.
Larissa W.’
The ping of the email distracted you for a moment.
Good- that was good- your classes would be covered and you were ‘off the hook’. Great. Take as much time as you need mhm mhm… blah blah blah… stop by later today… mh-
Wait.
Wait, what?
You blinked, stared down at the lit up screen of your phone, and then blinked again.
She was… stopping… by? Later? On that day? When the clench in your abdomen was so strong that you were descending into sniffling sobs every two seconds? On that day, when you had just reached the point in which your fingers- the four you managed to fit and utilize- no longer got rid of the ache? On that day, when you were cursing yourself for never buying a fucking sex toy just for the Hell of it?
In your defense, you didn’t think you were ever going to descend into a spontaneous excruciating heat at any point in your life- but it didn’t really matter anyway.
Because whether you liked it or not, Larissa Weems, your boss, the headmistress of the Nevermore Academy for Outcasts, the main event of your wet dreams and sexual fantasies was going to stop by your room for a ‘brief chat’... and you hadn’t been clothed for three days. And your legs were trembling all the time. And the insides of your soft thighs were coated in slick constantly. And your skin was always overheated and sensitive and your voice was hoarse due to the amount of muffled screaming you pressed into the fabric of your pillow and your bed was very much unmade and your room smelled like a 24 hour sex dungeon and the blush on your cheeks had only increased tenfold by the time you sat up in your unmade bed, winced, and let out a whine.
Oh why had the Gods cursed you so?
Why had they placed a hex on your little human body and filled it with a libido that could only match the ferocity of dragons? Why did they force a potion of lust down your throat and place you in front of Larissa Weems and make you look at her with eyes of dark desire? Why did they place the image of her sloping hips and long legs and thick thighs in your mind and poison you with dreams that followed you into the waking world?
Why did you want her so badly?
Why did you yearn for her touch and why did you want her smell enveloping your body and why- oh god why- did you want to kiss her so often? Why did you want her to take care of you? Why did you want her of all people! to take you to bed and make you see stars? Why did you want red lipstick covering your skin and why did you want your face between her thighs and why did you want to feel her come apart beneath you? Why did she drive you wild? Why did she force you into a state of fluster that you could only pull yourself out of when you were alone?
Why did she plague you?
“I can’t do this…,” you suddenly confessed to no one in particular as you let out a sigh.
The fire had dulled to a simmer long enough for you to stand and slowly make your way to the bathroom.
Pain experienced during heat, you came to find, was far different than any other pain. It was like you felt empty - utterly disgustingly empty - and your body hated that. It rebelled. It made your abdomen, your fucking womb, feel hot. And after the heat, it began to ache. Like you were sitting on the edge of an orgasm and you needed that extra push- that extra kiss- that extra lick of praise- to send you tipping off the edge into an ocean of bliss…. But you couldn’t have it. The push, the kiss, the praise wasn’t there. Nor was the thrust of strong hips, or the scratch of fingernails, or the hissed growl of dominance in your ear. None of it. And your body knew that, so it made you clench and unclench constantly; and it punished you for your negligence and made your clit extra sensitive and your nipples hard and eager to be teased and your skin- oh your poor skin- was practically begging for someone to touch it. To mark it. To hold it and squeeze it and bite it and make it theirs.
Make it hers.
Goodness, you were pathetic. The fog that fell over your mind whenever you thought of Larissa was so hypnotizing that once your thoughts got going, they couldn’t stop.
‘Think of her,’ the strange lustful monster within you hissed, ‘Think of her and all of the sinful things she could do to you. Think of her hands pulling your hair, think of her warm thighs straddling your waist, think of her tongue running itself along your neck… and down your chest… and lower and lower… lower… pooling with drool and letting it drip-drop onto your cunt… licking at your clit…’
A whimper slipped past your lips as soon as you stepped into the water of your shower.
The heat was both soothing and torturous, doing you no favors as it instantly glazed the top of your mind; normally you’d prefer to make it cold to put a damper on your libido, but the need to get off yet again overpowered any lingerings of common sense.
But really, if you were being honest with yourself, there was no common sense during ‘heat’. At all. You figured that out rather quickly when, on the fourth day of wanting to be fucked mercilessly, you began entertaining thoughts of breeding. Of course you didn’t want a child. But the thought… the thought… of such warmth in you… filling what was always so painfully empty… of someone- of her- holding you down and breeding you full, growling that you were to be hers forever, was something that had you cumming in under five minutes. You simply couldn’t help it. And ever since that thought, it was as though you crossed into the dark side. All kinds of kinks and experiments filtered into your horny little brain, and all you could do to keep yourself from going crazy was to keep orgasming until your fingers could barely move.
It was the worst experience of your life…
…when you weren’t sitting on the built-in shower stool and thrusting three fingers into yourself, imagining Larissa watching you from beyond the glass. It was terrible except for when you pictured her telling you to go faster, to slow down, to take your fingers out completely and spread your folds wide so she could coo over how cute you looked when your cunt ached for her touch. It was maddening while you weren’t fantasizing about her stepping into the shower with you- all 6 feet, 3 inches of her- and threading her perfect hand in your hair and pressing you to her venus mound and making you kiss it until you came around your own fingers. Then making you stick your tongue out and look up at her as she slowly rolled her hips, coating you in a taste you knew you’d never ever get tired of.
Maybe even… oh god… maybe even shifting that part of herself and surprising you by sliding the head of her cock into your mouth and making you worship her until you forgot your own name. Running your eager tongue along the hot veins… peering up through your eyelashes as she slowly- slowly- craned her head back and let out a deep bone-shaking groan… Unable to help herself as she pushed you down just a bit more, slowly making that ‘pretty mouth of yours’ (as she called it) take as much of her as it could.
“There… yes, right there darling…” You could practically hear her words, as if she were with you, while your eyes rolled back and your other hand came up to rub furiously as your clit.
Unfortunately, even as you sat there and felt the prickling wave of heat wash over your body, clenching tightly around your own fingers while you orgasmed, you knew that it wouldn’t be enough. You knew that the water running down your face was mixed with frustrated tears. You knew that no climax you reached all by yourself would ever be able to properly satiate your body and every thing it was feeling. After all, a ‘normie’ was not supposed to experience ‘heat’ - and your mind was already so close to breaking all by itself.
It was just a shame that Larissa wasn’t there to snap it in half for you.
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This was just a quick exercise - I want to better my smut writing abilities. New updates soon and all that. Any thoughts on a Part 2? - Ripley x
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sampsonstorm-critical · 3 months
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So. I DID watch Hazbin Hotel. And oh boy. So I'm going to give my critique on the show.
"antagonists and supporting" Characters- A bit better than Helluva. Studio oversight curbed some stuff. The characters somewhat had their own personalities in their dialogue. Some characters I thought could be cut out. I'm sorry but Sir Pentious is one of them. He's too cartoony even for this universe. He's annoying on the level jar jar binx was in star wars. Same with Mimzy. I think they could've done much better with Adam, but they just made him a dude bro? I did like the Seraphim sisters. Lute was just a bitchy, cynical, anime antagonist. Nifty was a bit aggravating too on the same level as Sir Pentious. I liked Husk as a character. Lucifer being a crushed dreamer fallen angel was actually interesting however his take on his people that he rules? Now if he was actively choosing to punish them himself using hells tools, it would be one thing? But he just has depression??? I guess? After thousands of years? Instead of trying to reconnect with his daughter, he just Mopes??? Like a sad boy??? No. Sorry. You lost me. Cherry Bomb? Meh. She's pretty shallowly written.
Now!
Main Characters -
Charlie- I hate her. I hate how fucking useless she is. She's the main protagonist for fucks sake. Now if she started like this and actually got better as the story went along in season 1, then alright. But she just gets her ass kicked and daddy has to save her skin. Way to take away her independence as a character.
Vaggie- I like Vaggies premise, but I hate the way her arc is executed. And the fact that she lets Lute live??? I'm sorry? WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?! No way. No how. Someone like her from a military background, or hells backdrop would let someone as callous as Lute live.
Alastor - he's my favorite character but, it's not his show. And it feels like it is. I love Alastor, he's the only entertainment I get from this show for the most part.
Angel - he's a characature. He is a walking stereotype. I know many people like him including the hypersexuality. Angel dust unless written for plot specific purposes only, is a very selfish unredeemable person. I'm sorry. He's being raped, and he still sexually harasses other people, knowing how it makes him feel? Now this would be great if we weren't supposed to feel bad for him right away, because it would show how abused can become abusers even if they don't mean too. And that could've been part of his arc to becoming a better person. But no.
The Vs - I like Vox. He's written to be genuinely manipulative, charismatic, and intimidating. I like Velvet too. I wish we knew anything about her. Valentino is written to be a villain, but some of his more childish moments are a bit of a movie mood killer.
On to the show as a whole.
So the most hated part of HH. Episode 4s infamous sexual assault scene. - I actually think it was very raw. It was done in an artistic taste. And I DEFINITELY think that if it wasn't taken from a SA fetishizer, it would've sat with me better. I understand what they were portraying and as someone who's had friends, gay men from the aids crisis era who have been SA, I see it but it's not done well. The only instance it's done well is when Angel is shown in the studio with Valentino especially when he tells Charlie to leave.
The build up and pay off issue - the music for the most part was good. OUT OF CONTEXT. I. Context it pays off without building up the conflict. It just resolves immediately. And these aren't Saturday morning cartoon conflicts. These are deep seeded emotional traumas between people. They don't resolve within one episode. These types of conflicts should resolve in 3 part episodes to 1 season. Yet again the Helluva problem shows up. Setting up too many character arcs and plotlines that cannot be properly resolved in the time span.
The finally- it was. Hot. Garbage. What the fuck was Charlie wearing to fight???? What the fuck???? Seriously???? And Angel???? In his booty shorts??? And we're supposed to take the extermination seriously??? HA! No. I do like in the episodes leading up to the finally, where Charlie and Emily rise against Heaven. I think they should have kept going with that moment in the song "If hell is forever, then Heaven must be a lie". It was very powerful and undermined immediately with "the big reveal!" Yuck. And don't even get me started on how NIFTY is the one who killed ADAM! SERIOUSLY? I think it was actually cool to see Alastor get HIS shit kicked in and see him crack under the pressure for once. I DO NOT like how Charlie's daddy had to come and fight her battles especially seeling as how he could do it the whole fucking time for thousands of years????!
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roz-ani · 3 months
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One issue I don't quite get and want to briefly comment on is the idea that Alastor has to be either an old-school villain who's just evil for the sake of being evil, or more of an antagonist with actual depth, emotions, and traumatic backstory to explain his actions, letting the audience relate to him. I think we're going to extremes here. We don't have to go, "Oh, I understand why he would do that". The main goal is for us to say, "Oh, so that's his deal".
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While we don't know exactly what Alstor's deal is, what the exact terms of his contract are etc., he is, without a doubt, the most complex character in the show. He's in a unique position since he technically helps Charlie achieve her goal, but it's obvious he's in it for selfish reasons, with some grander scheme going on behind the scenes. May he eventually be the one the main cast will have to fight at some point? Sure. Would it be even more fun because he is a part of the said cast? Absolutely.
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Let's get one thing straight: Alastor is evil. He's in Hell for a good reason. He's a cannibal and a serial killer. And I know we can absolutely forgive characters for doing the absolute worst, but he is not a good person. And yes, you can like (and simp for) evil characters. (If you think being a fan of intriguing fictional creations makes you a terrible person, you need to get off twitter and tiktok to actually interact with real people.) At the same time, the finale of season 1 simply made it clear that Al does have depth, and that he's going to be a three-dimensional character. Not that his actions are going to be suddenly justified.
But why can't we explore evil characters while enjoying them and letting them be evil? We can. Alastor started his carnage in Hell before making his deal, so it's not the main reason behind his less-than-questionable actions. For now, he's looking for freedom so he can (re)gain power and be in control again. At the same time, he is growing attached to the other characters. I highly doubt he'll be redeemed; we'll just learn more about him, his backstory, and his goals.
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Can you even call Al an antagonist? If you ask me, he's more of an anti-hero. Heck, do we know who he is? Not really, and that's the point. He's one of the main characters, but he makes himself separate in both the story and the writing. He's a wild card.
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We don't know what's coming for the Radio Demon in season 2. The first one established that there's more to him and that he started growing fond of the other characters, while the finale made Al realise it almost got him killed. He was humiliated and it reminded him even more that he's still under someone else's control. At least, that's how I see it. Alastor may become more sinister as the story progresses, and as he's getting more and more desperate to free himself of the contract. AT THE SAME TIME, he did come back to the Hotel with a smile and consent for a group hug, so it's not like he's going to blow it up in the first episode. He's not against the Hotel itself. He's doing his own thing, knowing that the titular establishment is an inherent part of his story. All paths lead to the Hazbin Hotel. My guess is that he will simply become more active.
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Alastor is already a three-dimensional character; there is no doubt about that. But it's not like he's getting reckoned here. I don't really understand where this notion of our Radio Demon being an old-school villain came from in the first place. He's always been a mystery. Okay, maybe in the pilot it was not so clear-cut, and I'll admit, it would be fun to just see the Radio Demon as a powerful entity overlooking the hotel for his own pleasure. Turning him into a villain later on? Meh, depends on what would happen in the story if that were the case. Watching Jack Horner in "Puss in Boots", reminded me how much I missed villains that were not an initial antagonist's evil-incarnate-superior. However, it was quite quickly established that there is more to Alastor. He would have to appear pretty rarely to not go through any character arc in a show with such an ambitious storyline as Hazbin Hotel (and what a delightful character would we lose if that was the direction the writing team would have taken?). I would mention the pacing actually harming that development, but it's clear this is the show's biggest problem, and we just have to take things for granted.
If anything, Alastor is being restrained from being purely evil. To me, he's a combination of both of the character types I mentioned at the beginning, leaning more toward the well-developed anti-hero. Just let evil characters be evil and three-dimensional. 
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absolutebl · 4 months
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This Week in BL - Bit Slow Round These Parts
Organized, in each category, by ones I'm enjoying most at the top.
Dec 2023 Wk 4
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Ongoing Series - Thai
Last Twilight (Fri YT) ep 8 of 12 - Mhok is about the most indulgent boyfriend on the planet. Why they dressed as 1930s gangsters for the wedding? I have no idea idea, but it’s adorable. IFYLITA mark 2? And they’re even dancing together using bits of the same steps that were used that show too. Cute nod.
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The Sign (Sat YT) ep 6 of 10 - Everything but the kitchen sink includes lesbians apparently. Excellent. Carry on. Also a lot of filler about the sides. (Boring, stop that.) I wish the doctor were a little bit more of a multifaceted character (and less evil snakey), and that we had some of his backstory + Tharn. If we saw them as kids, having a longer true friendship, it would make Tharn’s attitude a little bit more sympathetic and forgiving.
For Him (Thurs iQIYI) ep 5 of 10 - I like this show, but it’s awfully one-sided in the romance arena. I mean shouldn’t they be trying to support and make each other happy? Why does it always have to come from Him? Also, I’m constantly worried about the fact that Nail doesn’t eat any vegetables. His digestive track must be in serious distress. And if the boy is a bottom?! Look I have concerns is all I'm saying, I hope he's getting his fiber along with the dk. Meanwhile... Mom confrontation! Always fun.  
Twins the series (Fri GaGa) ep 9 of 10 - Now I’m having a hard time keeping the twins straight. Who’s getting beat up for whom, what’s going on? No matter who, First caught himself a live one. I like those bits.
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Pit Babe (Fri iQIYI) ep 7 of 14 - I got little crumbs of my sides but not enough, and then they dropped the mpreg bomb. Kinda like blowing the BL diaper. Trash watch happening here.
Cooking Crush (Sun YT) ep 5 of 12 - They are so cute. And mostly such good communicators. Except evil dad is evil! I didn’t have OffGun tango on my bingo card, but I'm happy to check it off. After making everyone sing, GMMTV is now making everyone dance. I much prefer it. Kiss came a bit out of nowhere. But it was sweet. 
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A few minutes later...
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Bake Me Please (Mon Gaga) ep 6fin - I don’t know, I feel like this just wasn’t good enough for the class of talent involved. Which means it’s mostly the story and script's fault. In the end I kinda just wanted Guy to get the guy.
In cluclusion:
A lack-luster story about a group of bakers coping with (mostly) a shoddy script that could not be saved by either the beauty nor the talent of the actors involved. It suffered for lack of narrative backbone and so did I. 6/10
Middleman’s Love (Fri YT & iQIYI ep 8fin - Mai is an adorable clingy boyfriend, and that bit was kind of cute.
Summation:
Office clown, Jade, a manic pixie dream dork, is courted by the new intern, Mai. This show is right in my wheelhouse but it fell flat for me. I wish it had lived up to the concept behind the title (if nothing else). If we had done more of Jade‘s family and the reasons behind his self-worth struggles and self-acceptance issues, they might have been easier to bare. Without backstory, the show had no through line. In the end, Jade was a largely intolerable character, and Mai felt flat and lacking in personality. I was disappointed with this show, and I hope they don't blame the pair for the poor ratings. 6/10
My Universe (Sun iQIYI) 1626 ep 19 of 24 - Meh. So dull. 
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Ongoing Series - Not Thai
VIP Only (Taiwan Fri Gaga) ep 7 of 10 - I’m not really interested in the late addition love triangle concept.
Sahara-sensei to Toki-kun (Japan Fri Gaga) ep 4 of 8 - a bit too frenetic and manic for me, this one. Glasses boy is best boy. But I’m kind of confused as to was actually going on with this show. Including whether I like it or not.
I Became the Main Role of a BL (Japan Sun Gaga) ep 1-3 - AKA BL Drama no Shuen ni Narimashita: Crank Up Hen - it should finish airing at the very beginning of the year, so I decided to wait and watch all 3 back-to-back. 
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It's Airing But...
Playboyy (Thurs Gaga) 14 eps - Dear Playboyy, it's not you, it’s me… I hate you. You’re about as deep (and as palatable) as a shot glass of cum. While I'm sure you’re someone’s kink, you're my weakest link. Goodbye. I DNFed this at ep 5. Frankly I'm impressed with myself for getting that far.
Night Dream (Sat YT) 6 eps - It’s a pain to track down and I really didn’t like the first episode so… DNF  
The Whisperer (Sun ????) 10 eps - Thai horror BL that ALSO involves cheating (what joy is mine). I don't think even the perfect single dimple can motivate me to watch. Word is... it's terrible.
7 Days Before Valentine (Weds WeTV) 10 eps - Giving me Luminous Solution vibes. I'm waiting to binge if safe.
Dead Friend Forever (Thai Sat iQIYI) - horror, meh, tell me if it's worth my time?
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It's done and I didn't, or we can't
Beyond The Star (Weds iQIYI) 8 eps - House of Stars meets Boyband. I was NOT impressed with ep 1. Been told I shouldn't bother. So I won't.
Behind the Shadows (Korea movie) - This is a historical I was interested in, but I've been told they kill the gay so I'm OUT.
[INTERNATIONAL] Cherry Magic (Sat YouTube) ep 3 of 12 - yeah Japan put the smack down on our boys. Sadness. You can use a VPN if you like. Read all about it here.
What Did You Eat Yesterday Season 2 AKA Kinou Nani Tabeta? Season 2 (Japan Gaga) 10 eps - will binge when I have a spare day.
Crazy work load right now so no idea when that will be. (End of year is a bear for me.)
Honestly I'm gonna have an epic number of dnf's this year for me.
Next Week Looks Like This
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Original 2023 forthcoming BL master post (see comments, some are inaccurate, NOT KEPT UPDATED). With the end of the year upon us I'll do an "announced for 2023 but never happened list" soon.
Also my best ofs are coming.
Don't think I'll do a stats round up this year, everything progressing as before.
THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS
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(Last week) - sorry, forgot to link it.
It's 2024 people! Round ups are coming!!!! Leave a comment or an ask, if you have something specific you want addressed.
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iuciferic · 2 months
Text
I usually don’t make text posts on tumblr because I use this site as an archive for the artwork I post online and I think keeping boundaries online is good. But it’s way too long for Twitter and I’m thanking people who use tumblr in it. But I’ve been self reflecting. Well actually, I’ve been reading the work of Nagata Kabi so it inspired me to write this. This is NOT a negative post btw.
TLDR: if I don’t believe in myself, I gotta believe in the people who believe in me
So. I’m my biggest critic, constantly annoyed at how slow my skills progress, unable to see the good or a single quality in it, basically just posting it the same way you’d hand over a test you clearly failed but at least you tried. Well, today I was scrolling my own blog and scrutinizing my own work. But in between all the work there were all those asks from people who made the step forward to come and express what they think about it. Usually when this happens I brush it off as “oh well, they’re just trying to be nice. I will thank them because I appreciate their kindness in trying to make me feel better”. But if it was the case, they’d probably just leave a like or, they don’t know me so they’d probably just ignore it. I kept reading everyone’s asks inbetween criticizing myself and it made me realize, while criticizing myself is GOOD (it means I see my past mistakes and I’m one step closer to improving), I focus too much on the negative. Some asks were pointing things I never notice about my own work. I think it’s like our own appearance. Many of us will think it’s nothing special but other people will like it. Actually this might be a bad analogy.
I wanted to thank each person (who was off anon so I could directly message them) individually but I’m actually a very shy person and I felt embarrassed like “hey, uhh, yeah that asks you probably don’t remember you sent? I read it 2 months later again and I’d like to thank you again”. I assume replying to old stuff is universally seen as weird by other people. The people might be weirded out. But in case any of you read it (anon or not, know that I am really thankful for everything and it’s thanks to you that I’m having this surge of happiness right now).
This triggered a lot of memories. Back in October, when I was drawing a lot of armored core stuff, I got an email in Japanese. At first I thought it was some google translated bot but, it was actually proper Japanese (if easy to make the difference, even if your level is low). The person was complimenting my armored core stuff and later they actually revealed themselves on twitter. It made my week to know that someone would write such a long email just because they saw what was to me a picture online I just felt “meh” about, saying that they wanted to learn to draw now. (The email was very long, I can’t just dismiss someone writing all that)
Also since I was laid off from my studio job last year, I still received freelance work doing concepts and IU for smaller games (and was even requested to do more work for the previously mentioned studio) and was able to live comfortably thanks to that. But to me it was nothing, like I refused to acknowledge my own achievements. I mean everyone has a job. Why would I congratulate myself? Because you’re doing the job you’ve always dreamed of. Yeah, it’s not a in-house permanent contract, sure I’m not working on AAA, but freelance work is still work and small indie games are often the ones doing unique and interesting things. Plus it’s not the 90’s anymore where you could have a part time job on something that would become a cult classic. The joy I felt the first time I’ve seen my name in the credits roll of a game felt like a victory after a long battle. So yeah.
I still DO need to improve drastically if I want to grow as an artist and get hired on bigger projects and have the career I dream of. (I also need to keep studying for my N2 haha). But I’m happy of what I’ve achieved so far and I’m thankful from the bottom of my heart for the people who voiced themselves to remind me to stop looking at a small detail instead of the bigger picture. We’re all works-In-progress so even if we’ve been shitters so far, doesn’t meant it’s over and we can’t get better. Also I’m conscious I’m lucky enough to have people voicing their feedback, while smaller artists don’t. If anyone has ever complimented your artwork, I would advise to read what they said again.
Also I’ve been contracted to do creature/monster design on a console game starting next week so I’m going to go and beat FF7 Rebirth in 4 days before I’m unable to play it for the rest of the month. 🫡
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cultofdixon · 8 months
Text
At least there’s no bears
Daryl Dixon • They/Them Pronouns • Usually Daryl can see where the traps lay…but then you got caught • ANGST/SFW • TW: Injuries / Blood Loss / Anxiety
Requested by: Anon
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Daryl slowly sat up in his bed knowing he has the hunt today and that his partner will be joining him. Which meant he had to get ready and then drag their ass out of bed so they could get ready.
Once they both were ready, Y/N stretched their back out waiting for the archer who was currently informing the early bird Rick on their whereabouts for the morning.
“Hey, eat” Daryl startles them out of their thoughts as they tiredly take the protein bar handed to them and started to dig in while they walk to the gates.
It was a cold and nice morning for the two to go on foot for the entirety of the hunt. Even if Y/N does miss his bike to at least go a bit further out.
“You still waking up?”
“Meh.” They shrug adjusting the rifle on their back as they held onto the strap while looking around. “Why do we have to hunt early? Like. It’s what 5AM?”
“Have a watch to confirm that?” Daryl laughs a bit only to be hit with a pebble in the back of the head. As he quickly whips back, Y/N pretended like nothing happened only for him to playfully glare. “I’d be careful of any left behind traps. Don’t think there’s anything as serious as a bear trap but better to be aware”
“Why do people hunt bears? Some of them may be stupid, then others just want to steal your picnic baskets”
Daryl stopped once more only for Y/N to run right into him from not paying attention. He gave them a confused look.
“For someone who had a brother with only a few working brain cells. He didn’t watch cartoons? YOU didn’t watch cartoons?”
“Yogi bear”
“SEE YOU DID”
“Merle only watched cartoons or fights”
“Sounds very Merle coded” Y/N laughs a bit as they branched off a bit into a different direction to check out a bush with fruit on it.
The archer kept an eye on them for the most part, not like they would need the extra set of eyes since their first response in danger is to fight or find the closest hiding spot. They were also one of those adventure types from the old world and would almost always be outside so he knew that they knew about certain signs of danger and especially what’s poisonous or not.
“Those berries good?”
“Nah. But it could be good bait for small critters that can have it” Y/N plucked a handful as the two quickly turned to the sudden scurry that was too quick for a walker and Daryl went to follow.
When the tracks came up empty, Daryl was hit in the head again and turned to Y/N who had just caught up to him.
“What?”
“Did yea hit me with a berry?”
“No but thanks for the idea” Y/N laughs kneeling down to grab the acorn that fell, also grabbing the few acorn caps off the ground. “You ever wear these on your finger tips? As a kid?”
“And pretend your fingers were friends or some shit”
“That’s incredibly sad. If only I lived near the forest in Georgia then we would’ve been friends. Always find me in the trees”
“City kid?”
“Yeah but my sister always took me to the park to get outside and yknow, also not to hear bickering soon-to-be divorced parents” They laugh a bit as they took one of Daryl’s hands to put an acorn cap on one of his fingers before finding another bush in their peripheral to go investigate.
Daryl looks at the little acorn cap they put on his finger and thought it was cute of them, but before a smile could even grace his features. Fear shot right through him.
“son of a—-FUCK!” Y/N yells as their voice echoed through the forest followed by the thud of their body hitting the ground. They looked down to find the bear trap latched onto their left ankle. “Fuck fuck FUCK” they were too afraid to move and once Daryl finally came over.
The color in his face drained as he knelt down to assess what happened.
“You should’ve watched where you were going”
“Seriously?!” Y/N snaps at him for stating an annoying yet obvious response. Only for the sudden jerk to worsen the pain as they couldn’t look at their blood drain from their body or they might pass out. “Oh god”
“Jesus fuckin’ christ—-We gotta get this shit off yea without taking the foot”
“Oh”
“Oh?!” Daryl stops messing with it to lock eyes with Y/N a moment as neither exchanged a word. “What the fuck is happening right now?! Did I hurt yea further or—-“
“SOMEONE HAS TO BE THE CALM ONE”
“DEFINITELY DOESNT GOTTE BE YOU”
“SHUT YOUR MOUTH BEFORE THE WALKERS HEAR YOUR YELLING” Y/N snaps only for Daryl to cover their mouth waiting for the snap of twigs he heard to just be a critter and not what they had said a few seconds ago.
“I wish yea didn’t adapt your feelings to the situation when you’re the goddamn one that’s injured.”
“Freaking out to my full potential will only make me sob and the pain a whole lot worse” Y/N squeezed their eyes shut to fight back the tears as it was starting to get way worse. They carefully took their belt off even if it meant shifting, a wince, and Daryl flinching to the pain response. “Tourniquet”
“Smart. Very smart” Daryl takes the belt from them and got started applying such above their ankle before assessing what he should do next.
A lot of blood.
A lot of fucking blood.
It’s a 2hr window before they might lose it even with a tourniquet.
Y/N watches as Daryl thinks too loud in front of them. They were worrying about him even if they are the one bleeding less now. They clear their throat to get his attention as his expression instantly went to stress and worry thinking something worse was happening.
“Take the bear trap off, wrap the wound in your bandana, then carry me home so Denise can patch me up” their voice was shaky after silently crying a bit to themselves. Daryl did exactly what they said, a bit confused why they were so clear minded about it.
Next thing they knew, Daryl was carrying Y/N on his back all the way back to Alexandria.
“This shouldn’t have happened…”
“D, come on…”
“I knew this area had fuckin’ traps last time I was out. Should’ve taken them out before dragging you out here”
“You didn’t drag me out here” Y/N frowns. “And you would’ve gotten yourself caught in a bear trap. It just happens by accident”
“You shouldn’t have come…”
“I wanted to. You asked and I said yes…even if you didn’t I would’ve come out to find you if you’re didn’t leave a note like you usually do” They rest their head on his shoulder trying not to let the blood loss beat them with the exhaustion. “Shits unpredictable sometimes…”
“You’re too optimistic sometimes” Daryl sighs, listening to them hum in agreement as he felt their body shift against him. Making his anxiety pick up the pace to get to Alexandria.
It’s been a few hours and Y/N woke up exhausted but at least patched up and in the infirmary. They noticed they were alone but at least there was crutches to help them get around.
As they managed to get up and out of the building, Daryl was starting to head back to them carrying something when he noticed them on the crutches.
“You’re supposed to stay in the fuckin’ bed”
“Don’t tell me what to do” Y/N scoffs. “I wanna be in my bed. With you. Thank you very much” they were about to move past him when Daryl took their crutches leaving them still in a flamingo pose. “Daryl. Don’t be a dick”
“Let me set shit down inside and I’m carrying yea to bed. And ain’t taking no for an answer”
“Then can you hurry up? You or Denise or whoever took my jacket and I’m cold” Y/N frowns waiting for Daryl, watching him go inside the house leaving them out there longer than they had wanted.
But Daryl came back out in a little bit of a sprint with one of his sweaters, helping them get it on before picking them up bridal style and going toward the house.
“You gonna be nurse back to health?”
“Ain’t leavin’ yea that’s for sure”
“You’re sweet”
“You’d fall down the stairs if I left yea alone”
“I think I’m gonna take back calling you sweet” Y/N laughs resting their head on his shoulder as he pushes every door he had to open with his foot. Eventually getting to their room and setting them on the bed.
The archer carefully propped up their ankle using his pillow and covered them with his blanket. Y/N got comfortable watching Daryl move around the room moving a few things but then he left to grab something.
When he came back a moment later, Y/N had fallen asleep given their body was still wiped out and the drugs Denise gave them still floated around. Daryl set the glass of water on their nightstand along with fresh bandages for when they wake up so he could put new ones on. In the mean time, he moved to his side of the bed taking his boots off before bringing his whole self beside them.
Y/N opened their eyes a sec to see him beside them as they carefully moved their self close enough to bring their head on his shoulder. Daryl rests his head on top of theirs taking the time to finally relax.
“At least there wasn’t any bears”
“Shut up and go to sleep”
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findafight · 2 years
Note
Oh my god!!! That Steve/baby sister fic!!! If you ever want to build it out more I’d be obsessed (ie the party + extended party’s reactions, hop + Joyce and how everyone pitches in)
╰⁠(⁠⸝⁠⸝⁠⸝⁠´⁠꒳⁠`⁠⸝⁠⸝⁠⸝⁠)⁠╯ awwww anon!!!!!
Honestly I have been thinking about it and I know I put in the tags of the original post, buuuut. Robin called Steve Bud or Buddy which morphed into Bubba when they are being particularly soft with each other, and the baby (who I am possibly leaning towards calling Tina so her nickname can be Tintin because it's cute idk) picks up on it so calls Steve her Bubba. Also because "he's my big brother" can sort of become "he's my Bubba!" If words are smushed together by baby babble
But before all that, Steve (who walked to work that day because he didn't have a baby car seat yet and wasn't going to leave his baby sister whom he always wanted and loves so dearly already ALONE or worse. With their FATHER.) goes to, of all people, Mrs. Wheeler for help. He'd go to Joyce but she's working and Karen Wheeler has the youngest kid he knows so is the best bet for maybe getting some tips and also maybe a carrier because the bjorn isn't going to cut it for long. So he goes and Mr. Wheeler immediately thinks Steve's Accidental Baby Acquisition is due to Steve's own recklessness. (Steve is a prolific lover, sure, but he's smart and safe about it! When he was thirteen his dad sat him down for a talk about not wanting the disgrace of a shotgun wedding and his grandpa gave him a run down of venereal diseases he saw (didn't mention having but. Well.) His pals have in WWII that put the fear of God in him regarding unsafe sex. Moreso than the potential babies. So. He's always very careful. For this very reason!! Except apparently his dad didn't use his own advice but Steve isn't complaining because, once again, he always wanted a little sibling.)
Anyways the wheelers are like ohhhh a Harrington Scandal not involving the boy our daughter dated? Okay sure here's Holly's old baby carseat. Hopper is just. He's like. I thought Steve and that kid I kept giving warnings to about selling dope to were a thing and Steve is like "will people stop assuming she's mine!! I know I am a bit of a slut but I am terrified of chlamydia!!! And even if this WAS my fault (which it is not and also she's a gift I love you little baby sister you're the light of my life) I am taking responsibility for it so maybe we all need to be a little less judgy hmmm??"
Joyce and Karen give him some hand me down baby clothes and books, some good tips about feeding and burping and things like that, and Claudia and Sue offer to come passive aggressively congratulate Steve's dad.
Dustin is a little jealous because this Steve Time is going to be encroached upon by This Literal Infant but Steve is like Dustin... you are my Little Brother... My silly pal...Now you have a sister too!! 🥰 And Dustin is like Oh Shit That's Right and proceeds to try to teach this Literal Infant, it cannot be stressed enough that she is a few months old and cannot stay sitting up by herself, how to build a radio.
Eddie is just trying to not have a heart attack from the concentration of Pure Longing activated by seeing Steve With A Baby and has also been forbidden from playing anything loud near them. He is fine and deals with this by writing ballads that make Gareth gag from their sweetness and Jeff have a very knowingly indulgent look when he sees the lyrics. But Gareth lets he hit his drums with he baby hands and Jeff pretends she stole his nose so they aren't that put out by it.
El is Fascinated by the tiny human and asks lots of questions and wants to play with her, give her experiences of softness and kindness right off the bat she knew she herself was denied, so she's often the official baby holder when Steve needs to do something when the Party is around.
The rest of the party is pretty meh on the baby. Sure it's exciting at first but she just kinda becomes part of regular life. They take turns doing actual babysitting for Steve so he can work or run errands or even, gasp, have some normal early adult fun times, but it's all pretty regular. Erica is glad she's not the party baby anymore.
They do however probably secretly fight over who gets to be baby's godparent. Steve isn't allowed to know.
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strniohoeee · 6 months
Text
Vile
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Pairing: Chris Sturniolo X Female Reader
Synopsis: Y/N is a mean girl who hates a soft boy! She wants her men mean and rough. When Chris doesn’t take this well things start to change….this is for my best friend who literally held me at gun point to write this long ass story😅
Warnings⚠️: This is juicy juicy SMUT. I’m talking hair pulling, smacking, spit, manhandling, knife kink. Chris is mean as fuck and a douchey asshole. So read at your own risk just know she’s juicy
Song for the imagine: One of The Girls- The Weeknd, JENNIE, Lily-Rose Depo
⚠️This is an 18+ story, so minors do not interact, or do??⚠️
Chris was such an annoying little clingy boy. We were friends for some time now, and we were literally the definition of black cat and golden retriever energy. I was always a bitch and cold, I mean I had my soft spots but ehhh. And he was so childish and giddy all the time.
I’m not sure how we became friends, or how we actually liked each other, but we did. I had actually really liked Chris, but something about him acting too childish for me kept me away.
Most of the time we hung out it required me to literally watch him like he was a child. He acted like such a little baby, and one part of me wanted to coddle him, and the other part of me wanted to smack him to reality.
“I can tell you why she ghosted you” I told Chris
“And why is that?” He said rolling his eyes
“Because you’re such a little pussy. You get pussy whipped and you’ve never even met the girl” I told him
“Not fucking true at all” he said sounding offended
“No, it's very true. You’re a munch, and girls don’t like that. Ease off. You’re doing too much” I told him
“Excuse the fuck out of me! Miss perfect. How many guys actually want you around. You’re so meh and dark and MEAN” he said
“Guys like mean girls…..I’ll have you know I get any guy I want” I told him
“Yeah right! I couldn’t be with a girl who’s mean” he said back
“Yeah because you’re too nice, and you’re like a baby. Tighten the fuck up” I responded back to him
“Could you not be mean to me” he said
“Uhhh let me think?? No” I said rolling my eyes at him
“Chris, I'm telling you. Stop being a little softy and you’ll see every girl will fall to their knees for you” I told him
“Would you fall to your knees for me?” He asked with a puppy dog face
“Not until you get mean…..i like my men just as mean, and you doing this puppy dog face is putting you at the bottom of my roster” I said giving him a weird face
“Not a single nice thing out your mouth” he said scoffing and rolling his eyes
“Oh! You see that the scoffing and the eye roll? Yeah, keep doing that. A bad attitude looks good on you” I told him nodding my head
“Ouu are you flirting with me?” He asked smirking
“Most definitely am not” I said laughing in his face
His face drops and he clenched his jaw
“Ohh Chris that was hot as fuck, keep doing it” I told him running my tongue along my teeth
“You think so?” He said getting happy again
“See now I was flirting with you, and that shit went right over your dome” I told him
“Uhhh whatever” he said giving up
I worked at a bar/lounge that Chris and his brothers always frequented. I’m sure it was for me because this is not their scene at all. I found it amusing, but Chris just wasn’t my type
I hadn’t seen the triplets in a good month. Their fame skyrocketed and they were on tour the last I saw on instagram. Man I kind of missed my munch I was getting bored with these guys.
I was working a boring night shift on a Tuesday when nobody would be in. We were so slow I think I washed the shot glasses 25 times….actually might be 26
The front door opened and Chris and his brothers walked in. Immediately my face lit up
“Hey guys” I said
“Y/N heyyyyy” Nick said walking over to sit at the bar
“Yoo” Matt said sitting next to him, and then Chris sat next to Matt
“Hey Chris” I said
He just nodded his head at me….whos this fucking cool guy? I asked myself
“How have you guys been?” I asked them
“We’ve been good, just got back from tour actually” Matt said
“Oh nice how was that? Insufferable I imagine with all the teenage girls screaming” I said
“I missed your negativity! Actually it was really fun” Nick said
“How many tits did you sign Chris? Oh wait your whole fanbase is like 16, and you’re too pussy to do it for the girls that are actually of age” I told him
“Fuck outta here” he said giving me a dirty look
“Oh someone’s a little feisty” I said looking at Matt and Nick
“Yeah he’s been a total dick lately. He’s really fucking pissing us off” Nick said rolling his eyes
“Shut the fuck up” Chris said rolling his eyes
I’m not sure who this new Chris is, but it was really fucking hot.
“Let me take you on a date” Chris randomly blurted out
“Fuck no….have you lost your mind” I told him laughing at him
“Why you gotta do me like that. I’m tryna be nice and ask you out” he said rolling his eyes
“I told you I like my men mean….not posers pretending to be mean” I said back
“Want me to smack you around and call you bitch then? Before you agree to go out with me” he asked scoffing
“Mmm that does sound enticing” I said winking at him
The triplets had left about an hour after hanging around, and I had to finish my boring shift. I was closing solo tonight since it wasn’t busy, and everyone cleaned their area, so I only had a small portion to clean
It was 2AM, and I walked over to the door switching the open sign to closed
I walked back to my area and was wiping down the bar and the tables that were mine. When all of a sudden I heard someone come in….I thought I locked the door??
“I’m sorry we’re closed” I yelled out since my back was turned
“You left the door open….rookie mistake” I heard someone say, I knew that voice
“Chris what the fuck” I said turning around
“Not happy to see me?” He asked frowning
“No…waiting around like some creep” I told him cleaning my last table
“Ohhh you wound me” he said
“Chris you’re so fucking corny please stop” I said shaking my head
“Just give me a chance please I really like you” he said
“You’re acting like a freaky obsessed teenager, NO” I told him
“I can be mean” he said back to me
“Yeah sure you can” I said laughing at him
“I can be mean, and I can fuck you like a dirty slut you annoying bitch” he said walking closer to me
“The fuck did you just say?” I asked shocked, and pleasantly surprised
“You heard me…” he said smugly
“I can make you take back all those things you said about me. When I fuck you like A DIRTY SLUT YOU ANNOYING BITCH” he said raising his voice at the last part
“I doubt you can fuck me good” I said feeding into him
“Oh I’ll have you fucking weeping and limp” he said laughing
“Come on then rude boy, I can take you” I said
Chris stormed over to me and slammed me into the edge of the bar table (fuck that will leave a mark tomorrow). He smashed his lips against mine in a disgusting and sloppy kiss, but it was so fucking hot my knees buckled a bit
“You’re getting nothing but my dick tonight, and I’m going to give it to you how I want, and you’re gonna take it, GOT IT” he said gripping onto my chin harshly
“Yes” I said
We started to make out and he was groping my body harshly with want and need
He pulled away and looked me over while licking his lips
His hand came up to my throat and he started to choke me
“You’re gonna be mine” he spat at me like venom on his tongue
He removed my shirt and my bra. Immediately grabbing my boobs massaging them while looking at my face
“Fuck Chris” I said biting my lip
He grabbed the back of my head and leaned my head down. I was looking at his palm
“Spit” he demanded
“What the fuck no” I told him
He smacked me, “I said spit” and he pushed my head a little harder
So I spat on his palm
“Good fucking girl” he let go of my head kind of pushing me back and brought his palm up to my nipple massaging the spit in
“Ohh fuck” I said throwing my head back
“Yeah what a fucking slut” he said massaging my other breast
“Stop fucking talking and do something” I said which he didn’t like because he spun me around and pushed me against the counter again
“You need to learn to be nice” he said, pulling my hair causing my head to go back. I winced in pain and pleasure
He pulled my skirt down and had me step out of it
“Red lace thong. You’re a mean bitch and a slut” he laughed
“Fuck you” I said
“OH! So vulgar” he said pulling my hair again
“How do you feel about a knife” he asked me massaging my ass with his right hand
“Chris what the fuck are you on” I said trying to look over my shoulder but he didn’t let me
“If I brought a knife up to your pussy would I make you shudder?” He asked in my ear
“You wouldn’t….you're a pussy” I said laughing
The next thing I heard was the sound of a pocket knife opening. This sick fuck, he really had a knife
“I would choose my next words wisely” he said
“Or what” I said rudely
Chris placed the blade on my ass slowly grazing it. This sent a chill down my spine
“I don’t know….you tell me” he said back
“Chris I’m not fucking around don’t be stupid” I told him
Slowly I felt the blade travel further until he slid it under my underwear, and cut the side of it, and then slid it to the other side, and cut the other side letting my now destroyed underwear fall to the floor
He then swiftly turned me around
“Speechless are we?” He said with a smile on his face
He took the knife and slowly ran it up from my stomach to the valley of my breast
“Am I scaring you?” He asked with a fake pout
“No you’re turning me on” I said looking into his eyes
He then pulled my head back allowing my neck to be exposed, and he lightly slid the knife against my neck
“Mmmm how about now” he said taunting me
“Maybe a little bit. The knifes at my fucking throat” I said getting scared
“Good” he said then placed the knife on the counter, and grabbed me harshly throwing me against a table
He flipped me around so my chest was against the table and my ass was up
“Now I’m going to fuck you so hard you won’t even know your name” he said smacking my ass
“Fuck” I said wincing in pain
Chris kicked my legs apart, and started to unzip his pants. Taking his hard dick out. He walked around to where my head was
“Be a good girl and spit on my cock” he said smacking me lightly
I opened my mouth and spit on his cock. He then used that to jerk himself off. Slowly walking back behind me
He was teasing my entrance at such an agonizingly slow pace
“CHRIS PLEASE” I said already fucked out
“Shut the fuck up” he warned
And slowly he slid into me bottoming out in one go
“Mmmm this pussy was made for me” he said groaning
Within a few second Chris was pounding into me like a feral fucking animal. His hips connecting to my ass in loud smacks
“Fuck Chris you feel so good” I moaned out gripping the table
He was pounding into me relentlessly like I was some fucking ragdoll. His dick was touching all the right places
“Give me your hands” he said, but I ignored him
He grabbed my hair and pulled me up
“I said. GIVE ME YOUR FUCKING HANDS” he said throwing me forward
“IM SORRY IM SORRY” I said giving him my hands
He grabbed them together and started pounding into me even harder. How was this humanly possible
“Oh my god Chris” I said moaning and drooling everywhere
He lifted my leg up so my knee was on the table as he thrusted into me
“Such a good fucking slut for me” he said laughing as he smacked my ass with his right hand
“You gonna let me take you on a date now?” He asked
“Yes Chris yes! Whatever you want” I said moaning as tears fell from my eyes from the pleasure
“Good! Letting me fuck you like a dumb slut, and then letting me be your man” he said thrusting into me hard
“Fuck I’m gonna cum” I screeched out
“Yeah cum on my cock” he said as he pounded into me
“Fuck fuck fuck” I said and I came all over his cock. I was shaking and moaning out incoherent words as my legs were about to give out
“Let me cum on your tits” he said as he pulled out of me and roughly turned me over
He jerked himself over before moaning out my name as his lower abdomen constricted and he he came all over my tits
He came down from his high, picking his pants up and catching his breath
“Now how’s that for signing tits” he said lightly smacking me in my face
“Touché” I said rolling my eyes at him
“Let me clean you up, so I can take you home” he said
Chris had cleaned me up, and helped me clean the bar up again before I fully closed, and he decided to take me home
“So about that date?” He said when we pulled up to my house
“Yeah?” I asked him getting ready to get out
“Are you down?”he asked
“Of course! Pick me up tomorrow at 6” I said before kissing him on the lips, and walking to my house.
The End
I hope yall like this one! I haven’t done a Chris smut in a minute. Can’t wait to finish these imagines! I love writing 🤭❤️❤️
-J💅🏽
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Floyd, Kalim: The Way of Water
I was wondering how the artwork would frame the sitting boys, but I guess having Floyd floating there on his butt is fine fjeviwgxkwjwhfoen I don’t know what the alternative would be…
It's nice to learn more about the land boot camp the Octatrio went to; Floyd's vignettes indicate that merpeople need passports and that they went to a zoo as part of the program.
A Tale as Old as Time.
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Museums could be such snore fests sometimes. Sure, the place had an entire section dedicated to merpeople history, but it was nothing compared to what the Atlantica Memorial Museum boasted under the sea: the Mermaid Princess's silver comb, a replica of the Sea Witch's cauldron, bones of a sea dragon, a statue of the Sea King...
Here? All they had were some crummy paintings.
Floyd tilted his head back, taking in merman arriving in a dolphin-drawn chariot. He was an older man that sported bushy brows and a grand white beard that flowed in the water, his physique muscular and imposing. There was a regal presence about him, perhaps in how upright he stood, or in the glisten of the crown upon his head or the gauntlets cuffing his wrists. With his trident in hand, it was clear who he was.
The ruler of all the oceans. The waves obeyed his every whim, the sea and all its spoils bowing to his power. He, the Sea King.
Meh, what’s so great about him? So stiff and uptight. It’s be so much better workin’ for the Sea Witch.
Floyd's eyes flickered to the boy next to him, who seemed far more interested in the painting than he was. A steady grin crept onto his face, and he leaned in close.
Floyd pounced, hooking a long arm around Kalim's shoulder and yanking him over. The eel peered down at him, a single golden orb colliding with a pair of garnets. Leering, Floyd jerked his head at the depiction of the Sea King.
"Ne, ne, Otter-chan. What'cha think of this one?"
Any sane person might have been paralyzed with fear encountering Floyd in a dimly lit room, but not Kalim. No, Kalim was not sane at all.
The dorm leader greeted his peer with a smile so wide it could fill the horizon. "Floyd!! I'm so excited I get to see more of your history."
He blinked. "You actually like studying this kinda thing? Are you even any good at it?"
"Nope, not really!!" Kalim confessed (perhaps a little too easily). "I was looking at this painting and going, 'His beard's so impressive!' It reminds me of the one my dad has. I won't remember all the details later, but I'll always remember how cool the Sea King looks."
"It goes in one ear and out the other. Why bother then? Just dedicate your time and energy to stuff that actually interests ya."
"But it does interest me. It's fun learning about where your classmates come from! I heard humans and merpeople weren't always on good terms."
"Yeah. Back when the Sea King still ruled, there were tooons of rules forbidding merpeople from coming into contact with humans." Floyd held up a finger for each one he counted off. "No going to the surface world, no owning human stuff, no exploring shipwrecks... even no music at one point. You'd think Goldfishy wrote the lawbook."
Of course, even if those rules were in place, he would still totally disregard them. No one—not royalty, not his parents—could stop Floyd from venturing into the unknown.
"Whoa, the Sea King sounds like he was super strict and scary! I don't think I could live without music..." Kalim's face dropped. "He looks like such a nice person in the painting though."
Floyd rolled his eyes. "Cuz he lost his wife to a human ship. After that, he got all paranoid, thinking himans and merpeople are too different to coexist. He got especially protective over his daughters. The Sea King had seven of 'm and he breathed down all of their necks.”
"Ooooh!" Kalim didn't even bat an eye at the number (Floyd was sure it paled next to the number of siblings he had running around in his home.) "So the Sea King just wanted to protect his loved ones and make sure nothing sad like that ever happened again. He's a good guy after all!"
He now regarded Floyd with eager, sparkling eyes. "Wow, you know so much about this!! It's crazy thinking about how different things were in the past."
"Duh. It'd be boring if things stayed the same all the time." The eel smirked. He let go of Kalim and stepped back, giving a playful twirl, arms stretching out above him. "Ehehehe! Good thing the Mermaid Princess ended up opening doors for us to come onto land~"
Kalim beamed. "That's right!! She did! We wouldn’t be able to be friends without the Mermaid Princess’s help.”
The word gave Floyd pause, a rock tossed along his path as he brought his foot down upon it, snagging his step. Friend. He didn’t like spoken in that saccharine, trusting tone.
It was sticky and sweet, stuck in his teeth. Like cotton candy residue yet to be washed away by the waves, or sweat accumulated from summer heat. A gross feeling.
“You’re bein’ way too generous with your definitions again,” Floyd groaned, peeling away. “Cut it out, or I’ll get annoyed.”
Kalim (unwisely) laughed. Not at Floyd, but with him. “Oh, hey. When you think about it, we’re not really that different.”
“Mmm? What are you saying now, Otter-chan? Did all the sunbathing finally melt your brain?”
“In the Scalding Sands, waterways are really important. We use them for trade and travel. It’s the same for the Coral Sea. With all that water, it’s convenient for those sorts of things.” Kalim said matter-of-factly. “We’re using those same waterways now. We’re connected by water.”
“A good part of Twisted Wonderland is water,” Floyd pointed out. “You sayin’ everyone can be friends with everyone?”
Kalim nodded eagerly. “The Sea King was probably wrong. Humans and merpeople are actually very similar. I think the Mermaid Princess knew that too, and she wanted to help others recognize it.”
Floyd stared at Kalim, the moment long and hard. He wasn’t irritated anymore, only a little disappointed. Maybe mildly disgusted. “… Otter-chan, you’re so happy it hurts.”
“Thanks!”
“That wasn’t a compliment.” Floyd sighed. The energy and fight had been rapidly drained from in over the course of the short exchange, leaving him as wilted as a salted slug. “Aaaah, whatever. I’m tired of this already. I’m bailing.”
He turned on his heel and made for the exit and into the adjacent room. Already, Floyd could see a platinum frame of the Sorcerer of the Sand in the distance, bony fingers clasping a golden scarab.
“Wait up, I’m come with!” Kalim called after him. “I can teach you about my country’s history too!
That was how water was—always seeking to follow the flow. One body leading straight into another.
Floyd picked up his pace, arms pumping. (No running in the museum? Screw the rules.) Adrenaline deposited into his bloodstream, and he was hit with a rush.
Suddenly excited again, maybe a little interested in what a certain otter had to offer. A game, a chase, a thrill.
This is what he had come to the surface for.
Not rules or restrictions or a royal bossing him about. Not even friendship, as Kalim had suggested. Just fun, plain and simple.
It looked like he was going to get it.
Floyd grinned and shouted back, “Catch me if you can then!!”
And hurled right into the next room over.
Bless the Mermaid Princess.
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