#my sense of humor is fucked alright?
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My eating disordered brain everytime we are too sick to eat for 24+ hours:
#we had really bad vertigo#like#everything was spinning so fast#couldn't open our eyes#threw up evertime we moved#finally had to go to the ER#nearly 24 hours of vertigo#and my brain is celebrating us going 28 hours without food#fuck eating disorders#tw: ed mention#tw: eating issues#tw: hospital mention#tw: sickness#vertigo#gifs#tw: eating#and yes him eating in the gif amuses me#my sense of humor is fucked alright?#always weirds doctors out when Im clearly dying and cracking jokes and laughing#like bitches#you have no idea how broke a bitch can be#alright stop rambling in the tags#no one cares and you sound crazy#er than usual#:D
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FFFFUCK YEAH FIRST CHOICE TRAILER CASTING SWEEP ! ! ! ! ! !
#just thinking thoughts...#I DIDN"T THINK I COULD DO IT.#partially I DID pick some of these because I thought they'd be willing but like soren for example. I don't talk to him at all#but I'm telling you. his voice is perfect for ouwei Im TELLING you.#the dry humor... the chill...#another one I didn't think I'd get was Gary. they're hard to reach sometimes depending on whether they're off at war (the lab)#so while I was pretty sure they'd be more than happy to participate I figured they might not even see my message LOL#BUT THEY DID!!#originally I wasn't sure about that decision but I think Noah's personality has since shifted and my beloved garence works really well now#I also wanted to stuff kitsoa in this LMAO#but I've never heard her voice so I was a bit worried about casting her as one of the key characters#so I put her as the interviewer. you know.#I think it makes sense. from a meta perspective you know.#that she's the one asking the questions about this world#because I think she of all people would want to knwo the answer the most. yhea.#bruhh i dunno if I can do suzume but I also just like. I'm lazy alright. I don't want to ask around for people's younger siblings#I'll just do a toddler voice myself.#takagi's voicing genta I can fucking voice suzume
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Going through my old Ray tag to remind myself of JUST who he is, is.... honestly an experience.
Man, I used to be so funny. And charming, and creative.
What the FUCK happened.
#personal#oc: raymond trevelyan#i just spent like a good 2.5-3 hours reading about him#and man#HE'S A VERY GOOD CHARACTER#now I think maybe a little young for my current self to fully relate to; but tbh that just adds to his story#and it'd be actually REALLY FUN to revisit him as this older self of his as the protagonist of a new game#especially considering that he retired from inquisiting with so much bitterness in his heart#it'd be less “alright i know how these things go I got this”#and more “aw fuck me man not again.”#“i hope fate has a sense of humor and takes a leg this time”
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I can't believe a time limited event about construction workers is more interesting than the main story
#mihoyo really said#'alright let's put the entirety of our talents into random time limited event stories that the most random a wildest plot"#'also let's make the flamechasers a bunch of (overworked) construction workers for the lols'#anyway mihoyo really put a summer event in the fucking winter epic#seeing Kevin complaining about the cold will never be not funny to me#my sense of humor is garbage#honkai impact#honkaiposting#honkaimpact3rd
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i love meeting weirdos and freaks on my phone bc i feel i cant be like that with people i meet irl. i have a friend and sometimes we send eachother shit and hes like "this is weird/fucked up/dark humor" kinda thing and like... for the first two its never like that but like whatever we dont know eachother enough to know the limits, and the dark humor isnt exactly funny imo.
idk how to tell this guy, that ive met in class, that im just a kinda horny dumbass and that my sense of humor relates to that. like babygirl id send you that blowjob ninja post i rbed not too long ago but yet again whats the fucking limit
#my posts#also i dont want him to think im sending signals of any kind when im not necessarily#like weve had serious sex talks bc serious reasons so the jokes.. idk#also language barrier but we can get pass it#once a girl i get along with was talking with me in class over something a teacher said and it reminded me of a post about putting a collar#on a dick and taking it on a walk as if it was a pet or something and it was kinda on point on what we were talking#so i searched it and shower her it and she was mostly weirded out and like 'oh right people are into that kind of stuff'#darling. not in a joke context or something silly like that but i do find collars hot#but also i was just talking jokes and i did think of that post as a haha funny thing and#its not peoples first thought i guess siuhgghdu am i just like this bc ive been on this website for a decade#should i send my friend the goddamn ninja post anyways and be like 'man this is the kind of joke i like'?#'you know that one funny show? you know the ice cream that seems like a dick? thats my humor' like. i dont want to come off as#*too* weird. a bit yeah bc come on i always am its alright#but. there IS a line and i cant fucking see it dsiughsg#also like#its not necessarily a sense of humor thing but#im lacking the proper words#you can understand i think i hope#i cant make more sense t han this
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chat
words: 1.3k
warnings: 18+ only!, smut, streamer!rafe, gamer!rafe, established relationship, semi public sex, male receiving oral
part one / part two
“sup chat.” rafe says, barely glancing at the words on the screen as viewers pour in. “we are playing cod, what the fuck else would we be playing?”
you giggle quietly in the corner of the room. you're not surprised that when rafe decided to start streaming that he grew quickly in popularity. his good looks compared with dry sense of humor and ruthlessness made him get both girls and guys to become loyal viewers.
rafe loads up modern warfare, glancing at you as you watch him intensely, the one person he cares about.
“come here baby.” rafe beckons you over. you appear regularly on his streams, usually just sitting silently watching him play, or scrolling on your phone in the background.
you move quickly to rafes side, bending down to press a kiss to his lips when he lifts his head up.
“love you.” you whisper, kissing the smirk that stretches over his lips.
you turn to look at the screen as the comments about you roll in. “sorry ladies, but he's mine.” you rub your hand against rafes neck as you read a message out loud.
“how long have you been dating?”
“since mind your own business.” rafe fires back quickly, making you roll your eyes, watching as he joins a private party of his friends and other streamers.
rafe may get snippy with chatters (half of which go crazy and start talking about being degraded by him) but he never acts that way with you as he lets out a whine when you walk away.
“another kiss for good luck.”
you press your mouths together again, increasing the intensity for all to see as you make out until you hear the game begin. you pull away to take your place just off screen.
“god, she's hot, isn't she?” rafe says with a smirk, glancing over to you as the boys in chat no doubt agree considering your ass was in the camera for part of the kiss. you roll your eyes dramatically, making rafe smile.
you pull your phone out as the game starts. you like to watch him play sometimes, but as rafe has streamed more and more, you've lost interest in the game and prefer to scroll through instagram or tiktok while listening to him responding to chatters or talking with fellow streamers.
you eventually grow bored as he plays game after game. you check his stream on your phone, curious the number of current viewers. he's not one of the most streamed, but he gets consistently good numbers as you lock your phone and place it down.
rafe glances over to you as he sees you move, but his eyes snap back to the game as shooting erupts from the speakers and he has to focus on not getting killed.
you move next to rafe, very aware that you are in perfect view of the camera as you sink to your knees and crawl under the desk.
“baby.” rafe warns, the other players letting out a laugh, but are quickly silenced with a growl from rafe.
“come on, just let me put it in my mouth.” you whine, not sure if the microphone is going to pick up your begging. “want it so bad.”
rafe usually wouldn't stop you, but he doesn't want to get banned and have to find someplace new to stream.
“alright, don't distract me from my game though.” he says, looking down between his legs as you work yourself in-between, pushing wires out of the way so you can kneel comfortably.
chat exploded as rafes view count rises, not hiding at all what you are doing between his legs as you tug at his basketball shorts, forcing them out from beneath him as his underwear is revealed, cock clearly outlined through the thin fabric.
you waste no time presses kisses up and down his length until it's straining against the fabric. rafe manages to keep his concentration on the game despite you pulling his cock out of his underwear.
“fuck.” he mutters softly as your bare mouth is now on him, eyes on the screen as he evades getting shot.
“yeah, she's under the fucking desk. stop talking about it.” rafe addresses his chat that must be going crazy.
you hear some commotion from the people on call with them, but even they don't push it as rafe changes the conversation back to the game, telling the other players what they need to do next.
you sink your lips around his cock, staying true to your word and letting it sit heavy on your tongue, keeping still as you close your eyes.
“alright, move baby.” rafe says after a few minutes, tapping you on the head.
you didn't hear him say goodbye to stream, but you assume he must have ended it as your head begins to bob up and down, cock pushing deep into your throat before you retract.
you swirl your tongue around his tip, loving the unique taste on your tongue as you lap up and down his shaft, making obscene slurping noises that you probably should be ashamed of, but you don't care if people do hear. you don't think anyone would blame you with how attractive rafe is.
“good girl.” he moans out as you hear his mouse furiously clicking.
you go back to sucking at his cock, hollowing out your cheeks as you move just how you know rafe likes it.
“goddamn it.” rafe groans, smashing his mouse against the desk as he gets killed in the game, his hand lowering as he waits to press against the back of your head, pushing you down until your nose is nuzzled against his skin.
you hold for as long as possible, even after rafes fingers return to his keyboard as a new game begins until you can't restrict your gag reflex any longer, pulling off with a cough.
“chat shut the fuck up.” rafe grunts out.
you lean forward, looking up at him through the space between his body and the desk. “you're still streaming?”
rafe glances down at you, your lips pink and shiny, face looking small next to his erect cock.
“keep going, baby. don't worry about it.”
“mkay.” you shrug. you know rafe won't blame you even if he does get in trouble for streaming this. despite nothing actually being shown, he hasn't exactly been subtle about it.
you bring your focus back to rafes cock, suckling on the head before you begin to move up and down his shaft again, his long length being wrapped in the warmth of your mouth.
“close.” rafe warns with a moan.
“dude, are you actually getting head right now?” someone asks. you recognize their voice as a fellow streamer.
“shut up.” rafe says. “are you trying to get me banned?”
“sorry.” he quickly says.
“just focus on the fucking game and cover for me for a minute.” rafe navigates his character into a corner as he looks down at you, both hands coming to the back of your head, pushing you down as his hips lift, burying his cock down your throat as he cums.
you swallow as quickly as you can, not wanting to lose a single drop as he coats your throat before letting go, pulling you off to see you sputter, a wicked grin on his face.
rafe pulls his underwear to cover his cock once again as you crawl out from under the desk, your knees weak as you wobble slightly as you stand, rafe reaching out to wrap an arm around your waist to keep you steady.
“thanks for that, baby.” rafe says, hand squeezing against your side.
you look at him, a glimmer in your eye as you whisper. “does this mean i can sit on your cock next time we do a couples stream?”
taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @sourkittie @rafeyslove @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart @pradabambie @pradabambie @akirkland @rafestar @brioffthegrid @juniebugg @magicalyoura @cokepewpsii @mysticallystilinski @luvdella @aerangi @vogueprincess @auryyz @raysmayhem-72 @thestarlithideout @marvelfanfics1recs @rafesgiirl @ditzyzombiesblog @chiaraanatra @tobiaslut @drewsephrry @1aarii1 @edszn @theoraekenslover
#rafe smut#rafe cameron smut#obx smut#outer banks smut#rafe fic#rafe fanfic#rafe fanfiction#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron fanfic#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe x you#rafe x y/n#rafe x oc#rafe x reader#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x oc#rafe cameron x reader#rafe imagine#rafe blurb#rafe one shot#rafe drabble#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron blurb#rafe cameron one shot#rafe cameron drabble
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we do a bit of trolling
CG: OKAY DAVE, I KNOW WE CAME TO A TRUCE ON THE WHOLE FOOD WARS SHTICK, I'M NOT ABOUT TO HURL TWENTY MORE INSULTS AT YOUR EARTH CUISINE, BUT.
CG: BUT WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT.
TG: man
TG: ok look i was kinda preoccupied with the seven minute voice message i left you about the infinite jump glitch in sonic 06 and it turns out i cant measure water and talk at the same time
CG: DON'T SLOSH IT!!! THAT'S DISGUSTING!!! IT LOOKS LIKE BILE!
TG: yeah well its the last pack of mac n sheese and im gonna eat it whatever viscosity it decides to have
TG: i can make this work
TG: is cheese soup a thing
TG: nah theres no way in hell
TG: k so what is your cooking proficiency like what are we dealing with here
CG: OH, I DON'T KNOW. I WOULD SAY I CAN PROBABLY FOLLOW BASIC INSTRUCTIONS, POSSIBLY LIKE THE ONES THAT WERE ON THE BACK OF YOUR SALIVATION-INDUCING SLOPFEST YOU'VE GOT GOING ON HERE.
TG: alright cool i got a pitch
TG: might work might dont
CG: THAT ISN'T SO MUCH INSPIRING CONFIDENCE IN ME AS IT IS TAKING WHAT MORSELS OF FAITH I HAD IN YOU OUT BACK AND THRASHING THEM IN A DARK ALLEYWAY.
TG: alright so im basing my operations on like the core features of water im talking the ten commandments of h2o-logy
TG: as the component responsible for the shlop of my shlock presented before you
TG: it can evaporate right
CG: … YEAH?
TG: ok but cheese doesnt evaporate does it you cant get a cheese mist
CG: OH NO.
TG: cheese doesnt evaporate it just like melts
TG: or dries
TG: so my theory is if i jam this shit in an oven or maybe the microwave
CG: NEITHER OF THOSE WERE IN THE INSTRUCTIONS AND YOU KNOW IT
TG: but the problem is the pasta is already cooked and all up in there so if i microwave it the pastas gonna go soggy and i cant have that
CG: DAVE.
TG: so microwave is out of the picture im assuming oven heat will keep the pasta dry while also evaporatin the water without removing the cheese
TG: that checks out doesnt it
CG: CUT THE BULLSHIT. STOP EMBARRASSING YOURSELF.
CG: YOUR INSISTENCE ON UPSTAGING YOUR OWN STUPIDITY IN FRONT OF ME ISN'T CUTE OR ENDEARING. I KNOW WHAT YOU'RE TRYING TO PULL AND I'M NOT FA--
CG:
CG: WAIT… NO… WOULD-- WOULD THAT…?
TG: real brain wrinkler huh
CG: OH SUCK MY FAT FUCKING SHAME GLOBES
TG: dude you even pointed out the tripwire and you still went ahead and threw yourself over it what kind of troll are you
CG: I DIDN'T FALL FOR SHIT! OBVIOUSLY MY ATTEMPT TO HUMOR YOUR RAPIDLY DETERIORATING SENSE OF "INTELLIGENCE" WENT CLEAN OVER YOUR NUGBONE! YOU'VE PROVEN YOUR POINT, MY FAITH IN YOU IS COMPLETELY MISPLACED.
CG: WOOPS! SILLY ME FOR BELIEVING IN YOU! WHY DO I EVEN BOTHER?
TG: hahahaha oh man
#davekat#dave strider#karkat vantas#homestuck#inspired by the iasip binge i been on lately#comix#we do a bit of trolling
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This with player!sirius black
Hi! I assume you meant Sirius was the one sending the first text? So I hope this is okay :)
cw: alcohol, vomit mention (no description)
modern au
Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 980 words
You stumble out onto the street and right into a pair of tattooed, surprisingly strong arms.
“Fuck,” two voices say at the same time. One is yours, and the other…you look up, and a piece of dark velvety hair brushes your cheek as you meet slightly widened gray eyes.
“Sirius.” His name comes out nearly without vowels, all strung together like one long s. “What’re you doing here?”
“Hey, gorgeous.” He hoists you up a bit in his arms so you’re more on your feet. You don’t use them, though, content to let your weight rest on him for the moment. “You texted me to come.”
You feel your face screw up. “I did?”
Sirius’ mouth does that thing. He always looks like he has a little smile tucked in the corner, kept secret for now but constantly ready for deployment. It twitches. He grips you tighter against him, freeing one hand to dig in his pocket.
“See?”
You recoil from the bright light of his screen, squinting to read the messages. It takes all of your concentration, and by the time you muddle through it Sirius is looking down at you with a funny mix of humor and concern.
“Oh,” you say. “I forgot.” The corner of Sirius’ mouth kicks up. “I didn’t expect you to come, though.”
You start to slip down his front, and he heaves you up again with a grunt. “Yeah, well my night had started to wind down,” he says, in that disaffected way of his. It doesn’t bother you like it usually does; you’re too busy thinking about how out of all the things he could’ve done tonight, he came to you. “Figured I’d see what you were up to. Where were you running off to when I got here, huh?”
You have to think for a bit. Then it comes to you, and you swallow thickly. “I came out here to be sick,” you admit.
Sirius’ eyes widen and for a second you think he’s going to step away from you, but he doesn’t. “Yeah? You need to find a bin?”
You shake your head, swallowing again. “No, this is good.” You stumble away from him, bending over the gutter at the side of the street.
The club’s bouncer shouts. You hear Sirius say something back to him, and then his hands are in your hair, moving it away from your face.
“Shit,” he mumbles, securing it with a hair tie. “You alright?”
You spit, blinking tears from your eyes. “Mhm. M’fine.”
“You wanna go home?”
You turn your head to see him, vision smearing. “You wanna take me home?”
Some of that smile deploys, just a hint. It’s enough to make you dizzy. “Maybe just in the literal sense tonight, doll. Though I’ll be happy to take you up on that another time.”
You harumph, setting your bum on the curb. Or falling onto it, same thing. “Can we go in a minute?”
“Sure.”
Sirius sits beside you, pulling a cigarette and a lighter out of his pocket. You watch him cup a hand to light it, inhaling quickly before blowing smoke out the corner of his mouth. He sets one hand on the pavement and leans back on it. The cigarette glows magma red between his lips.
“Why did you come?”
He shrugs, watching traffic pass on the street. “Like I said, my night was winding down. I thought you might be a good time.”
You press your lips together. The smell of vomit is still sharp in your nostrils. “And I disappointed you.”
“Not necessarily.” He exhales smoke, hair gleaming red under the neon sign of the club. “Where are your friends?”
“Inside.”
“Think they’re worried about you?”
“When I left they were…distracted.” You smile wryly. You think you catch Sirius watching you out of the corner of his eye. “S’how nights out go, you know? Anyway, they’re used to me leaving early.”
“Yeah?” Sirius’ voice is disinterested, like he’s just keeping up his end of small talk at a family gathering. “Why’s that?”
You shrug, laying back on the sidewalk. Whatever’s getting in your hair is tomorrow’s problem. “I’m a lightweight.”
He looks down at you, humming as he brings the cigarette to his lips again. “You’re a walking red flag, aren’t you?”
You roll your head to the side. Grin up at him playfully. “And what about it?”
Sirius shrugs. “Nothing,” he says. “It’s hot.” He exhales a long stream of smoke, watching it dissipate into the night air. “My friend says I always like things that are bad for me the best.”
You’re not quite done wrapping your head around that when he stubs out the cigarette and slips a hand beneath your neck. “C’mon, this is no place for a nap.”
He gets you sitting up, then stands, taking your hands to bring you up there with him. You start out on the half of the sidewalk closer to the curb, but Sirius steps around you, hand skimming across the small of your back as he takes your place.
“Where’re we going?”
“Your place.”
You start to drift away, and Sirius gives your waist a slight tug. It’s the tiniest bit of pressure, but you stumble closer like he’s yanked you towards him. You may be swooning.
“I can get home on my own,” you tell him. “I have a great sense of direction, I do it all the time.”
“I don’t mind,” he says simply.
And well, you don’t if he doesn’t. For a while you walk in silence, Sirius guiding you with his hand at the small of your back, not seeming to care that you called him out here for nothing or that you smell like vomit or that you keep stumbling in your heels.
“Sirius?” you ask after a while.
“Hm?”
“Do you think I’m bad for you?”
He’s quiet for a second. “I haven’t decided yet, doll. I’ll let you know when I figure it out.”
#sirius black#sirius black x reader#sirius black x fem!reader#sirius black x y/n#sirius black x you#sirius black x self insert#sirius black fanfiction#sirius black fanfic#sirius black fic#sirius black fluff#sirius black angst#sirius black imagine#sirius black scenario#sirius black blurb#sirius black drabble#sirius black oneshot#sirius black one shot#marauders#the marauders#marauders fanfiction#marauders fandom#hp marauders#marauders x reader
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Imagine SUNA RINTARO and you as seatmates in the classroom. You were adorned with various Sanrio items. Hairpins, keychains, jewelry, and stationary. It was safe to assume you were a Sanrio fan. And Suna thinks it's quite adorable
He'd secretly observe you from the corner of his eye and smile to himself at how you're ridiculously full of Sanrio merchandise. You had every character as merch imaginable, he thinks you have collected every known merchandise available. Suna begins to refer to you in his head as "Sanrio Girl".
The longer you were seatmates with Suna, the more you begin to capture his heart. You were kind, you matched his sense of humor, and you smelled really nice (not that he was trying to smell you). Suna just finds himself unable to make a move so he just passes it off as a simple high school crush.
Suna graduates and goes pro in volleyball. He has recently joined the EJP RAJIN and adjusted well in the team. Sooner, the coach introduces the new manager that would assist them during practices and official games. Suna freezes when you walked into the room.
He clutches his chest as if cupid as struck his golden arrow through him. You looked entirely different, you were gorgeous but still resembled the adorable girl he was seatmates with throughout high school. He can feel his heart palpitating wildly in his chest when you smiled.
"Hello! My name's [Name] [Surname], I look forward to working with you all!"
You bowed your head as the team reciprocates politely. During a break at practice, he decides to suck in a breath and approach you. As he got closer, he notices that you no longer incorporated any Sanrio items in your style. It was a bit of a bummer because he thought it was cute.
"Hey"
"Oh, hello, Suna-senshu!"
"You know, you can call me Rintaro. After all, we go way back"
"Okay, seatmate"
You winked at him and laughed. Suna's heart skips a beat when you remembered him. Maybe he hasn't gotten over his high school crush, maybe it has developed into something more.
"I'm surprised you still remember me, Rintaro"
"Not that I would forget. You used to wear so much Sanrio accessories back then"
"Haha, well, I kind of stopped that when I got into college"
"What a shame. I always found it adorable"
When Suna's highly observant eyes catches the pink hue on your cheeks, he smiles smugly.
"You know, I used to call you "Sanrio Girl" in my head back when I didn't knew your name"
"Really?"
"Yeah. Are you over your Sanrio phase?"
"Not really. I still have my collection. Oh, I got a tattoo of pompompurin recently!"
You pulled back the sleeve of your shirt to reveal and adorable pompompurin tattoo on your shoulder. Suna thinks he's going to combust. He had to make you his, if he didn't, he'll fucking die.
"That looks fucking adorable"
"Thanks!"
"So, I was wondering if you want to grab dinner later? My treat"
"Oh, sure! I'd love too"
"Alright. I'll see you later, my Sanrio Girl"
what do y'all think Suna's fav Sanrio character? lmao
#— ♬ ©kitasgloves#haikyuu#haikyuu fanfiction#haikyuu fic#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu drabbles#suna rintarou#suna rintaro x reader#suna x reader#suna x you
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PAC: Judgment
This one is going to be fucking intense, y'all. The Judgement card calls shit the fuck out. The Judgement card isn't judgemental though. It's all about self-reflection, taking a good, hard look in the mirror, and suspending your self-criticism so you can see yourself honestly. It can talk about a reckoning of biblical proportions, things being brought to the surface and nothing will ever be the same.
That being said this reading is for entertainment purposes ONLY and is not a substitute for professional advice in any capacity. Remember, use common sense, and don't be a dumbass.
Masterlist
Pick The Flag, The Angel, or because some of y’all’s guides have a sense of humor The Ass. And head on to your reading.
THIS IS THE JUDGMENT CARD. IT IS A TOUGH LOVE READING. IF THAT IS NOT WHAT YOU FEEL YOU NEED OR ARE IN GOOD HEADSPACE FOR, THIS ISN'T THE READING FOR YOU. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.
The Horn
Ten of wands, Five of Cups, The Hanged Man, Five of Swords, Death Rx, Nine of Swords, Ace of Cups Rx, Eight of Cups Rx, Seven of Cups Rx, The Fool, and The Six of Wands.
Is it loud where y'all are at? Or is there usually a lot of noise going on where you're at? I don't think that has anything to do with the reading, just something I'm picking up on. Y'all know the Judgment card is not gonna pull any punches right? And you're ready for that? Alright then, y'all are stuck in the past and it's fuckin you over. I'm getting specifically that y'all replay embarrassing memories or replay times you fucked up over and over in your head and beat yourself up over them. Now most people do that to a degree, y'all though? Y'all do it a fuck ton. You need to stop beating yourself up for past shit. You don't have to start singing your own praises or whatever, just learning to stop that train of thought when it comes up would do wonders for you. I kept pulling cards for y'all because they felt empty, that's the only way I can describe it. Y'all are so fucking drained. It's like y'all are hanging around a well that's been dry for a while, but you won't leave cause what if you go looking and never find another one? THE WELL IS FUCKIN DRY SWEETIE. You refuse to let go of the past because what if the future is worse? Or what if you never find that again? Honey, I'm gonna give it to you straight (or bi?) By holding onto the past you are guaranteeing that the future will be worse. Hanging around a dusty ass well is worse than going looking for another one, full stop. I gotta be honest, it doesn't even look like you were happy with what you're holding on to. None of the cards talk about a happy past. I keep getting this imagery of ghosts haunting an abandoned house, but it feels like you're the ghost haunting your past. There's a vibe here too, that y'all are waiting for something to rush in and change things. Like some sorta lightning strike, epiphany, huge catalyst event that's like NOW, my life can start. Sweetie, that's you. You are the change maker in your life. I understand there's a fuck ton in life that's outside of our control, I get that. That's not what this reading is talking about. It's talking about how the choices you are making are keeping you stuck. How YOU are the catalyst for change in your life. Even small steps in the right direction will make a huge difference Your reading started with the Ten of Wands and ended with the Six. The imagery on them is really beautiful for this reading. In the deck I'm using, the Ten/Wands is depicted as ten sticks all tangled together, it feels like being stuck in a dark underbrush. The Six/Wands shows a blue butterfly flying out of a dark underbrush. You have the power to move toward a brighter future. You just need to take that power into your hands and stop trying to go back to the past. I believe in y'all.
Random ass vibes: enchiladas, butterflies, 888, pop-punk, 21, pink, pastel goth
Like this reading? Tell me what you like in the comments or leave a tip in the tip jar at the bottom of the post.
Angel
Seven/Cups, Knight/Cups Rx, Queen/Wands Rx, Eight/Swords Rx, Six/Swords, Wheel of Fortune Rx, Ace of Cups.
I'm seeing a watercolor painting of mountains. Someone painting scenery on a road-trip. This energy feels very soft, not gentle though. Like a cat that's cuddly but will tear you to shreds the second the mood strikes them. I feel like if you picked this group, you are one tough nut to crack. You've either had a rough life so far, are a rough person or both. Probably both. There's a softness that's calling you. A softer life coming your way, you probably feel it or have seen signs about it. It's freaking you the fuck out though ain't it? This life that you're being called to embrace, "being welcomed into" I'm hearing, is so soft and free and you've never felt that have you? It's terrifying. Honey. I fucking get y'all, I get this group wholefuckinheartedly. Y'all may be scared that this softer life will make you lose your instincts, that you will go soft and helpless. I think that's why the cat analogy came up, you won't lose it, babe don't worry. You won't be de-clawed just because you find a safe lap to curl up in. I'm feeling that the people that will come in with this softer life will love your edges and teeth. Knowing you will have their back when shit hits the fan will make them feel so safe with you and vis versa. Cause believe me they will have your back just as you do theirs. This energy is dark and intense and soft and warm all at once. It's so fuckin beautiful. Here's the catch, cause you knew it was coming: You have to start creating room for this softer energy. You have to start being softer with yourself, not judging yourself for wanting that softness. Stop ridiculing soft things, open things. I know you can take the hard times in stride but stop making yourself. Just because you can handle the hard shit doesn't mean you have to all the time. There is so much ease with this energy, it's just like a whisper in my ear. This is a time of rest coming to you but you have to kinda train yourself a bit for it, teach yourself that these things are okay. Otherwise, you may just lose your shit cause it's so fuckin foreign to you. (I keep seeing a flash of a long caption on instagram?? I don't know what that means at all, I hope it clicks for one of y'all. ) I keep getting the sense that y'all are worried about losing who you are if you embrace this energy, you won't. That intensity? The claws? The smartass mouth and edge? All yours to keep. We don't lose the night and storms when spring comes now do we? The only difference now is that you'll have a shoulder to lean on and will have moments of peace. BUT you have to stop judging yourself for even thinking about a softer way, seriously. How the hell are you going to be ready to embrace this fuckin awesome new chapter if you can't even THINK about it without mentally berating yourself? You don't have to do a complete 180 immediately, just stop yourself when you catch yourself repeating those thoughts. Just change the subject, do not engage. You can argue with those self-berating thoughts if you want, ngl this group seems like take no shit types. And let's be honest, we all know that you can't mentally beat yourself into the person you want to be, anymore than you could repeatedly neglect and destroy a seedling and have it grow into a huge ass tree. Things don't get stronger by being repeatedly broken down and destroyed. Y'all have had enough of the tough-love, hustle, push harder to do better. It's your turn for ease.
random ass vibes: art, Hozier, rainy forests, two-lane highways, candy, hammocks, fresh laundry, fire.
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Ass
Four/Swords Rx, The High Priestess, Three/Pentacles, Queen/Swords Rx, The Tower Rx, Seven/Pentacles Rx, Ace/Wands and Ace/Swords Rx on the back of the deck.
Y'all's guides think they're fuckin hilarious. Not only did they keep pushing me to pick the person's ass as the picture for your group. When I was writing up the lil intro at the top, I wrote something about a good, hard look in the mirror and I heard giggling and "yea look at the dick in the mirror". (jokingly calling you a dick, not in a really mean way, more like the way you call a friend a dick) They're giggling again as I'm writing this.
This energy is very youthful and light. I think y'all tend to be very hard on your past self, very critical. I keep hearing "should've known better". You need to give yourself a break, especially from past mistakes. (Do y'all have trouble focusing? I cannot seem to focus on this group, so I'm sorry if it's coming across as very jumbled. )There's a deep need to go inward and explore your inner self. I think y'all actively avoid going inward, dealing with your own emotions. It's like y'all are running away from your inner child. Some of you may have had a rough childhood but I'm getting that it's more that y'all kinda bully your past self/ inner child, as they are one and the same. It's interesting, it feels like a few of y'all are demanding yourselves to be a way that you're not naturally and it's alienating your inner child. Now, I can't say who you are naturally, not my place. I can say judging by the cards, some of y'all are pushing yourselves to be more of a logical hardass than you are and for others of you it's the opposite, you're pushing yourselves to be more intuitive, touchy-feely than you are naturally. No Judgements for either side, I do want to say whether you figure out you're more or less logical/intuitive, you can still be into tarot and everything. All are welcome. All of y'all are punishing yourselves for not being how you think you "should" be though. I do mean punishing, too. Y'all can be downright cruel to yourselves when you try to be. Pay attention to what you're saying to yourself in those moments, as I'm getting that you may be parroting something cruel that was said to you as a kid. I mean, do you even truly believe what you're saying to yourself? Cause, honestly it looks like you do and value different skill sets and understand that everyone is different and does embarrassing shit sometimes, but you have a different standard for yourself. I'm hearing something like "Yeah but everyone' beats themselves up over embarrassing shit, everyone does this, and everyone hates themselves for past mistakes. Sweetie, everyone cringes at their past, not everyone is cruel to themselves the way you are. I don't think you realize how incredibly harsh your thoughts toward your past self can be. You wonder why you can never seem to connect with your inner child when you've become their biggest bully. I mean no offense and I'm not judging you, I'm just your guide's lil messenger. I didn't intend for this to be an inner child reading, that is what it needs to be, though. The Judgment card talks about calling things to the surface, and facing the truth of you head on. Your self-judgments are leaving your inner child feeling abandoned by you. You're picking apart the foundation of yourself and wondering why you never feel like you're on solid ground. This reading is calling you to go back to basics for yourself. I'm seeing for those of you who never really had a time when you could be a child, not only is this more relevant for you, it'll have more of an impact. Think back to what made you feel safe as a kid, or what you wanted to do to make yourself feel safe that you couldn't for whatever reason. Shows you watched or wanted to watch. The food you wanted. Buy yourself a toy, playdough is cheap as hell. If you're still pretty young and you're reading this, let yourself BE young. The world is so fuckin demanding and puts so much pressure on everyone to be "mature" and grow up as fast as possible and it's bullshit. Being easier on your past self/inner child will give you that spark and energy you've felt was missing. You're never too old to let yourself feel like a kid.
random ass vibes: spinning around til you fall, gardening, 222, birthday candles, art, blanket forts,
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#tarot reading#tarot#divination#tarot community#tarot cards#pick a card#pick a pile#pick a card reading#wtftarot#pick a picture#pick a photo#pac reading
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Feel free to ignore this request if you want! But basically Adam and reader being pretty good friends who are casual with each other, have a similar sense of humor and personality, reader is a older sibling figure to many of the other angels, and him just beginning to actually gain feelings for them
Eeee I'm so excited!! Thank you for requesting!!
Adam x reader
"Can't believe I'm falling in love with such a cocky bitch"
You and Adam knew eachother since the beginning of time, and having known eachother that long you started to rub off on eachother. You both had similar humor and jokes the only difference was, was that you knew how to act politely, Adam did not.
You worked as a welcoming angel for new souls and angels of the like, showing them around and getting them set up in a home was just one of your many jobs. You worked closely with percious but you didn't like him, he was kind of a cunt when he wasn't around other people. You were on your lunch break sitting at a high table on a chair swinging your legs happily, you had gotten a milkshake and some fries. Adam snuck up behind you grabbing your sides suddenly, "hah! gotcha bitch!" Adam laughed. You had went to hit him at first but started laughing with him when you realized who it was, "adam!! You bitch come sit! I haven't seen you all week bro" you pointed to the seat across from you.
You couldn't even remember who had started the tradition of sneaking up on each other, but it just stuck, and Adam never failed to sneak up on you. Adam and you talked about your week together making small jokes as you ended up sharing your fries and milkshake with him. "And then she's over here hitting on the drummer, like, you think you want drummer dick? Nah, do you know who I am? I'm fucking Adam, I'm the original dick!" Adam recited the story to you as you started snort laughing. "Well it can't be that good if she wanted drummer dick!" You said between laughing as you hit your thigh loosing your shit over your own joke. "Hey!! My dick is fine thank you very much!" Adam huffed defensively before joining in your laughter. It took you both forever to catch your breath and stop.
Adam grabbed the last fry and ate it "Alright sugartits I've gotta go danger tits is waiting for me, but hey! I'll swing by your place with some Chinese food. Sound good?" Adam looked at you with hopeful eyes. You chuckled "sure thing dickmaster I'll see ya then" you said playfully giving him a sweet smile. Adam went to get you a hug but paused and patted you on the head awkwardly instead before speeding off to go find lute.
You were a bit confused but expected it from Adam, well atleast you were learning to Adam had been acting weird.. you thought that it would be all fixed up after mating week, but he was still just as weird as before.
You ended up getting an early day off since Emily took over welcoming souls for a bit to help. "Calm her energy down." In Sera's words, at least. You picked up your place, finally dishes and other chores you were behind on. You got a movie picked for tonight and some beer and sodas for you and Adam.
Adam finally came by your place after dark with a bag of Chinese food and a bag of clothes for him to change into assuming he was staying over. Adam knocked on the door rhythmically as he waited, you opened the door after a moment or so in some sleep shorts and one of Adam's band t-shirts(I keep forgetting Adam has a band bro).
"Woah, is that Adam without lute on his shoulder like a little parrot?" You teased letting the man in. Adam took his helmet off and rolled his eyes, "I'm not bringing my second in command to your house to hang out." Now that that was weird, Adam never responded that way to that joke, "bro, you good? What happened that got you all pissy? Are you on your man period or sum?" You asked concerned but still trying to make it a joke. Adam sighed "nah just a lot on my mind. There's this chick -" "ooooo does the Adam have a crush?" Who's the lucky bitch huh? " You cut him off plopping on your couch and turning your head so Adam could change(like you weren't just watching him in the reflection of the tv). Adam sighed and got changed into comfy clothes, "yea it's fucking weird though I mean she wouldn't leave my mind during mating week and ugh I get so awkward around her" Adam groaned laying on the couch with his head in you thighs. "Shit Adam do you actually like this chick? Or do you just wanna fuck her? Orrrr was the pussy that good that you want more?" You teased playing with Adam's hair carefully. Adam shook his head "I think I like her I mean I've known her for awhile and she just gets me yknow?" Adam said tilting his head a bit to look at you before changing his mind and grabbing the remote looking through Aisney(angel disney) and putting on the live action of "the jungle dude" (the jungle book).
You took a moment to think, it hurt, the thought of Adam falling in love with someone else after sharing so much. "Just think about your heart before you brain Adam, think about your feelings, maybe you should tell her I mean it can't hurt too bad, and I mean if your friends I'm sure she feels the same... and you guys can just be together, yknow.." You slowly got quieter and quieter, feeling like if you were any louder, you were gonna cry your eyes out.
Adam nodded a bit. "What would you do in my situation?" Adam asked under his breath, yet you still heard him. You took a deep breath "Adam I...." Your words got caught in your throat as you looked down at him looking guilty. Adam tilted his head to look at you confused at the look. "What's with the look sugar tits? You look like I'm about to cry, did I say sum?" Adam asked genuinely concerned for you. It made your heart melt knowing he cared for you so much, it made your heart melt so much in fact that before your brain registered what you were doing you had leaned down and trapped his lips in a kiss. The angle wasn't comfortable, and your spine was bent weird, but God was it worth it, feeling how soft his lips were. Adam froze for a moment before melting into it, licking along your bottom lip, teasing you a bit. After a moment of you both continuing to kiss each other, you both pulled away for air a small string of salive connecting you and breaking after you moved too far away. You were panting a bit but didn't go too far from his face. "That's what I'd do.. " you whispered softly, your lips barely brushing against Adam's. Adam reached up and put a had on your cheek "you wanna know something sugar tits? I think I would do the same.." Adam smiled as he locked your lips together in a passionate kiss pulling away after a few moments.
Adam smiled and sat up next to you , allowing you to straighten your back properly. Adam chuckled " awwe you hunched just to kiss me sugar tits? I'm honored" Adam joked. You rolled your eyes "yea yea whatever dickmaster now do you wanna cuddle up and eat while we watch a movie or do we wanna talk about what well we are first?" You tilted you head a bit. Adam was already reaching for the bag when you brought it up. "What do you mean what we are? I thought that kiss established it, I'm yours and your mine" Adam spoke almost boredly. You could feel the blush creep up on your face " your gonna be one heck of a boyfriend " you laughed.
The rest of the evening was relaxed as you cuddled and ate together. Before falling asleep together on your couch, hoping everything would be perfect with you both together
#hazbin hotel adam#x reader#hazbin adam#adam x reader#hazbin hotel#confession#adam x reader confession#jaded works🪶
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pre-midlife crisis
genre: fluff
pairing: bf!sunghoon x gn!reader
wc: 0.5k
summary: a boring day
warnings: cursing, uno, attempted (cringe) humor
masterlist
“i’m telling you, there is no R, you lose.”
“are you kidding me? i’m sure you could add something!” sunghoon complained.
“i already added a belt, 5 earrings, a fanny pack, and an extra arm. what more do you want from me?” you deadpan at your boyfriend.
he sighed in defeat.
“i don’t like hangman anymore.”
“because you lose?” you asked him, stifling your laughter.
“shut up...” he mumbles, grabbing a slice of pizza.
“ok what about we play a different game, like…” you dug through your closet. “...scrabble?”
“another word game? it's like you want me to be miserable!” sunghoon whined, stuffing his face into a pillow.
“ok, ok…what about rock-paper-scissors?” you asked him, grabbing a cheeto from the bowl next to you.
“basic ass bitch.” he mumbled with his head still stuffed in the pillow.
you threw a cheeto at him, “then you choose the game! don’t attack me cause youre bad at everything.”
“bad at everything? wanna have a dance battle?” he raised his eyebrows in question, with a smirk on his face.
“i can barely walk straight, i am not dancing.”
“i can teach you.”
“so that i embarrass myself and you laugh at my misery? no, thank you.” you shudder.
“i swear i wont laugh. just let me teach you!” he said, dramatically falling at your feet.
you sighed. “alright then, but one wrong move and you're dead.”
“no no- put your leg here then- NO not there- put it here then kick forward and dro- NO YOURE GOING TO KILL YOURSELF-”
you plopped on the floor and lay down, breathing rapidly.
“i suck at dancing.”
“you really fucking do..” he deadpans at you, earning a slap on his head.
“youre the one that decided future perfect was a good beginner’s song.”
“...fair enough”
“so, now what?” you look at him from the floor.
he dug into his backpack and pulled out a deck of cards.
“what do you think about uno?” he asked.
“that never ends well...” you said hesitatingly.
“let's find out then…” he replied, shuffling the cards.
sunghoon places a colour change wild card.
“i change the colour to red!” he said.
you smiled.
“thank you, and sorry hoon.”
you placed a red +2 card.
sunghoon looked at you in defeat before placing a +4 card on top.
“hey you cant do that!” you complained.
“my game, my rules.” he said smugly.
“literally no one plays the game like that…”
“but i do!”
“it makes no sense! just pick two goddamn cards.” you said.
he huffed. “fine”
he picked up two cards.
you placed your last second card.
“uno!”
sunghoon looked at you as if you had just kidnapped his dog.
“+4???? ARE YOU TRYING TO BREAK OUR RELATIONSHIP???”
“no, im literally just better at this game than you are.”
“i give up.” he said, sulkingly throwing his cards in the air before lying on the floor, defeated.
just then, niki walked into the room.
“yo whats up with him?” he asked, pointing at sunghoon.
“hes going through a midlife crisis.”
sunghoon’s head snapped up.
“its a PRE midlife crisis, thank you very much.”
taglist: open!
#solarswonderland#kflixnet#k labels#enhypen#enhypen imagines#enhypen x reader#enhypen fluff#enhypen soft icons#enhypen reactions#enhypen sunghoon#park sunghoon#sunghoon x reader#sunghoon imagines#sunghoon fluff#enhypen smau#enha smau#enha x reader#sunghoon#sunghoon drabbles#sunghoon smau#enhypen social media au#park sunghoon x reader#park sunghoon smau
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hi! could u please do smut on billy hargrove where the reader and him are very close friends and she wants him to take her virginity please 🥰🫣
nightingale
A/N: sometimes all u need is a very attractive close friend to take your virginity (gif cred: @julie-thefatones) IT ENDS SO CHEESY. DONT BOTHER ME
Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Fem!Reader
Summary: Billy can’t resist when you beg him to take your virginity. 2.5k words.
Warnings: smut, mdni, 18+, billy hargrove, mild slut shaming, virginity/loss of virginity, possessiveness/jealousy, pet names (doll, babydoll), cursing, sex talk!teasing, fingers in mouths, gagging, discussion of his penis
In all honesty, Billy didn't think you were a virgin. He wouldn't have bet a cent on it. Not that he thought you were a slut or especially promiscuous or anything like that. He just figured you'd done it before. You're self-assured as Hell, and that's typically not a characteristic of someone who's never fucked or been fucked. At least, not in his experience. And Lord knows he's got plenty of it. So, in all honesty, when you beg him to take your virginity, it comes as a surprise.
"I'm sorry—what?"
So much of a surprise that it rouses a hearty laugh from the thick of his chest. It doesn't register that that 'please' was as genuine and whiny as a bitch in heat. It doesn't register that you've got your palms wrapped around his wrists and that you frown at his patronizing sense of humor.
"Well, if you don't want to, I'll find someone else to do it."
"No," and that contemptuous laughter stops hard in its tracks, "Never said I wouldn't do it." Because—and he'd die before admitting it, but—the thought of your legs wrapped around someone else's waist, your nails raking down someone else's back makes him physically ill. You're his girl. Have been since the day you pitched a dead-on fastball to the Hawkins dunk tank target just to see him flounder into the shallow pool.
Billy crosses his arms over his chest, still trying to swallow the fact that he would be the first one to ever lay hands on you like that and to that degree. He sizes you up with those steely blues just to make you feel small. But it doesn't work; it never works on you. Hence the whole virgin debacle. It's gotta be celibacy, right? There's no way you've never done it. Sure, you're a pain in the ass, but who doesn't love a good lookin' challenge?
Your eyes light up, and you're back to bouncing onto the balls of your feet—"So you'll do it? You'll fuck me?"
"Jesus Christ, sounds so vulgar comin' outta your mouth."
"Yeah, yeah, but you'll do it, right?"
"Sure, yeah, whatever. I'll do it."
"'Whatever.' You can say no—"
"Yeah, and I suggest you zip it before I leave you to some pervert with sweaty hands and a fuckin' combover," he grumbles, and you know he's joking, but you also know Billy's mean enough to mean it. You stick your tongue out at him and grin when he copies you and all is right with the world. Except for the fact that you're walking around with your virginity in tact.
"So what, you want me to take you out to dinner first or somethin'?
"Nah, nah, just... yunno... the dirty work—"
He shakes his head. "Alright—"
"Lay it on me, Billy, gimme that weak-in-the-knees treatment—"
"You're so fuckin' weird."
"I can't hear you, Billy Hargrove's gonna pop my cherry—"
"Gross." He shoves his hands into the pockets of his bomber jacket, scraping his boots along the concrete towards his car, ignoring the annoyed looks from a what looks like a group of sophomore girls.
"Wait—!" You jog a few feet in front of him and stop him before he can reach for the shiny silver door handle. His cold eyes swoop across your cheek with a determined flicker in them that contests your own. "Gonna ask me when I'm free?"
He scoffs. "When are you free?"
"I dunno—"
"I don't think I've ever worked this hard for a piece of ass—"
"Shh! Just... would you play along? We're literally discussing the well-being of my sex life here," you jab, dramatic as ever leaning back against his car door with your arms crossed and your brows raised.
"Fine," he huffs, "How 'bout I swing by around... seven? The sun'll be set, and—"
"That sounds perfect. I'll see you at eight!"
You flit away with a grin, seemingly satisfied to have secured one more part of your future. Meanwhile, Billy's ducking into his car, flipping his zippo open-shut-open-shut compulsively to distract himself. Heart racing a mile a minute like he's the one with the pretty laugh and the soft hands and the virginity. How the Hell are you still a virgin?
Billy sat outside your house in his Camaro for half an hour, too stressed to smoke but too eager to go back home and take it out on some dumbbells. By the time he makes it to your front door, he's dripping sweat like he's fresh off the racetrack, and you ask him if he's okay like you care. Like he's here for anything more than a quick fuck.
He waits in his boxers for you to change in the bathroom, standing at the end of your bed and glancing over all of your posters. And the unlit candle on your desk. And the stacks of books in the corner. The trinkets and jewelry and stuffed animals and personality. The sun sinks lower and lower until the room is dark blue, the only source of indoor light a small, warm bulb plugged into the wall socket.
You come up behind him and scare him half to death with a cold hand on his shoulder. Only cold because he's overheating because he's in your bedroom because he's about to do the thing he's drooled and schemed over since the first time he saw you in a bikini.
"Don't go tellin' people about this, alright? Could be bad for business."
"Okay."
You're standing in front of him, batting your eyelashes in the dark, settling into the floor wearing little to nothing. Just a thin white bra and old panties. And for the first time, you seem small. Like you're trying to shrink in on yourself. And his nerves dissipate just enough for him to smirk to himself. He never thought he'd be able to make you nervous. That's one less bullet on his bucket list.
He can see your catty eyes flicking across the bare expanse of his chest like a bowl of warm milk. Like you'd dip your tongue in and lap at his ivory surface until the dish was clean. For the first time, he feels exposed. And he thinks he'd like to get used to it.
He also never thought your silence would fill him with such unease. You shift weight from right to left slowly, breathing deep and chewing the inside of your cheek. And your entire body goes stiff when he shuffles closer in the darkness.
"Feelin' okay?"
You nod.
"Hmm. One to ten?" he murmurs.
You mull it over and blow a puff of hot air up against your forehead.
"Considering I'm about to have mind-blowing sex, I feel like I should be at a ten."
He cocks a brow. "But?"
"But..."—you wring your palms, nervously feeling over the tendons and knuckles, like you're gauging their existence one more time—"I'm really fuckin' nervous," you huff.
He remembers that feeling. Not because he felt it at the same moment or for the same reason, but because it's the exact way you feel at the crest of a rollercoaster just before you plummet. The weightlessness of your stomach, the way your brain sort of short-circuits regardless of how great it is to fall. It's easy to forget the drop was the whole reason you got in line in the first place.
"No need to be nervous, babydoll. I'll be nice. Won't even bite," he says with a taunting shrug, "Unless you ask me to."
You cast your eyes down and drop your arms to your sides. He tilts his head, desperate for you to look back at him, for you to devour him with a look like that's all he's good for.
"What now?"
You take a deep breath.
"Thing is... I think I'd be okay if you weren't so nice this time around. If that makes sense," you sigh, shoulders slumping just a little further, "Just... treat me like one of your other hookups, you know? I mean, I'm not askin' to be slapped around or anything, but I'm not exactly made of glass."
Billy chuckles and his heart is beating so fast and all he can grumble out is: "I can work with that."
You beam up at him, catching the spark of the nightlight and reaching for his hand. It gives you a golden halo and sheds soft amber across the angles of his face. The slop of his nose and the tops of his cheeks a burnt yellow.
"Ready?" he hums.
You nod. "'M ready."
He dips down with all the sweet intentions in the world, only for you to tilt away. His lips meet your cheek, and even then, you feel the curve of a grin. He presses another to your temple, and you weave your fingers through the wild locks at the back of his head.
His nose nudges the soft shell of your ear as he whispers, "Still want me to take your virginity?"
You nod and he pulls away, curling his fingers into the back of your neck like a mother to its disobedient kitten. You coo and rest both hands on his chest, blinking hard when he grits his teeth into a smile.
"Say it."
"I—Billy," you say, shivering when his pinky brushes along the top of your spine.
"C'mon, don't go all quiet on me now. We're just gettin' started."
"Billy, please, I want—"
"Ah-ah."
"I need—I need you to fuck me, Billy, please take my virginity."
"That's my girl."
My girl, my girl, that's my girl. Billy. It’s only a whisper but it sends you both reeling; only his reeling is gritted teeth and yours is fluttering lashes. Sweet versus sour with his hand patting your hip and your fingertips ghosting over his skin.
"Knees."
"Billy—?"
"On your knees. Won't ask again."
"But I've never—"
"Shh, I know, just... trust me," he whispers. And as you lower to the floor, he realizes it's more than he's asked of anyone. It's more than anyone's offered. He's been violent and unkind—untrustworthy. And that kind of reputation makes people like you untrusting. Except, not people like you. Just people. Not you.
Admiration and lovesickness clouds the logical part of his brain, and in a panic, he slots his fingertips between your soft lips. You hold his wrist when he leers down at you like a cat. He coos softly above you when your tongue wets the pads of his fingers without a word more. If only your mouth was the problem. If only shutting you up would release your talons from his heart. No, you're locked in and you don't even know it yet.
"Billy," you cry, peeling his spit-slick fingers from your mouth and wiping at your cheek when you gag. He's ill over you, filled with thick and sugary warmth, forgetting how hard he is and how close your mouth is to his thighs.
"Sorry. 'M sorry, come to the bed." His thumb swipes across your jaw when you stand and settle into your mattress. Oh, and the way the moonlight washes over you is sinful. The way you're so close to being two bodies in baby blue. Instead of you and Billy and your virginity, you'll be together and defiled. Debauched and unwound.
You can't understand his sudden tenderness when he pushes the crotch of your panties aside and palms at himself. Why he leans down to nip at the soft and wet of your labia. Then glances up at you like heaven.
He rears back when you squeal, shocked at your awkwardness and sensitivity in his hands. And before that, it had felt natural. Like he had wanted to and was urged to. But you'd been none the wiser. And now you're tensing up at his touch simply because he couldn't keep his teeth to himself.
"Feelin' shy?" he says.
You let out a harsh breath that might've been a laugh if you hadn't gripped his shoulder and cooed. "Quit bein' mean, Billy. Skip to the good part."
He chortles and shakes his head, rubbing his thumb around your clit while shuffling out of his boxers.
"The good part, huh?" he huffs. He'd crack another joke if he could—if he wasn't distracted by the desire glistening over his fingers and your supple inner thighs. Wet and tempting especially because it's you.
He feels bad when you hiss but can't help himself from nudging deeper and closer in your tight warmth. You whine and whine about how thick and full and good it feels, and each little mewl beckons him closer until he's pressed to your chest, mindlessly drooling down your neck. If you'd let him, he'd lay this close for hours. With your hand on his neck and holding his waist while he drives his hips against yours.
The way you whisper his name against his ear makes him shudder, drill into you deeper, roll his hips wider. He'd foam at the mouth if it weren't for his ideals. Though, now, even those were slipping from him by the minute.
Love had never crossed his mind before. Maybe if his mother wasn't such a distant memory, it'd be a more prominent factor in his life. Maybe if he had someone to look after. Someone to look after him. Love was never a question of choice before, but now, while you're holding him in your careful arms and peppering kisses like freckles to his cheeks, maybe it could be. He could choose to stay this close forever and promise to be yours. His hard won reputation disintegrates when you lay your fingertips on him.
It all starts to feel a little raw. A little hotter and wetter and harder. Soft collisions turn to thuds, snaps, jolts. To keep him grounded in his ways, to keep him keen and wild. Your mouth hangs open at his cheek, your arms draped over his shoulders. You lie limp in his taut arms like he'll take care of you. Like he has any semblance of bedside manners. The rawness turns to tenderness, and you whine about the searing pain with a hand in his wet curls.
"Burns a little, Billy," you chirp, tilting your head back with a gritted smile.
"Drippin' down my leg, babydoll. Just a little longer," he grumbles. You nod. His back curls almost unnaturally. Animalistic and seemingly impervious, he cracks his hips against yours until the wet slapping fills the room and your headboard threatens to snap from the foundation. Your back arches, and you yelp when he slaps your thigh and groans in your ear.
"Atta girl," he sighs, pulling away and giving a few solid thrusts, as a makeshift goodbye kiss. Still licking his lips, but this time with the marks to show for it. He wears the hot pink from your nails down his back like armor, slowly pulling his soft cock from your cunt and rucking his boxers up to his hips.
"Jesus Christ," you huff, throwing your arms above your head. "You're fucking insane."
"And you're fucking tight. Poor guy's gonna need a couple'a days to recover."
"Oh, boohoo."
Billy slips back into his shirt and winks, "Don't worry, babydoll, he'll be ready for round two in no time.”
"Fuck you."
"Just did."
masterlist
#stranger things#x reader#stranger things x y/n#stranger things x reader#x fem!reader#billy hargrove#billy hargrove x fem!reader#billy hargrove smut#stranger things smut#billy hargrove x f!reader#x f!reader#stranger things x fem!reader#billy hargrove fic#billy hargrove x you#billy hargrove x reader#18+#mdni
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Eddie Munson's royal fuck-up
Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 11
Prompt: Royalty AU
Rated: G
CW: none
Tags: Rockstar Eddie Munson; Royal Steve Harrington; Meet cute; Flirting; Secret Identity; Sort of angsty/open ending
"So, tommorow…" Chrissy says from behind the folder they've been provided. It looks so posh with its dark green binding, the royal sigil embossed on it in gold print. Eddie hates it. It probably thinks it's so much better than the other folders. "When you're introduced to Prince Steven, you're to address him as Your Royal Highness. After that, you call him Sir."
"What, really? Dude, at least buy me dinner before we start with the kinky shit."
Chrissy shoves his feet off the desk, which almost makes him topple off his chair.
"Can you take this seriously? A royal visit is an important matter. We can certainly use the publicity-"
Eddie's hand crashes down on the desk. "I'm a fucking rockstar, Chris. That ain't enough publicity? This place is my baby, mine. What does that royal asshole know about what it's like to have a rough childhood? He thinks he can come here, give a little speech, smile for the cameras, and suddenly it's all about him?"
"What, now you care?"
He whirls on her, but the look she gives him makes him freeze. Chrissy sighs.
"Eds, you are so busy with the new album and the tour, you haven't even met the new volunteers. I said I'd manage the place, and that's fine. But you must trust me. Just do it for me. Please?"
*
The skate park has new graffiti, and he hasn't even seen it yet. Eddie exhales his cigarette smoke and watches how it curls up to the sign spelling Hellfire Youth Center.
Maybe Chrissy is right. Maybe he should be here more. Maybe he's been so caught up in the whole fame and fortune thing, he's losing sight of what's important, like-
"Watch out!"
Like guys on skateboards barrelling towards him.
Eddie throws up his hands. The guy tries to swerve, completely tips his precarious balance, and goes flying off the board and right into him. They land on the asphalt with an undignified oomph.
"Shit, sorry," babbles the guy and tries to disentangle his limbs from Eddie’s. "Couldn't brake-"
"S alright," Eddie hears himself say, even though his ass hurts like a bitch from the impact and he can already feel the bruises forming. "You can fall into my arms any time."
Skateboard guy blinks up at him and - fuuuck, he's cute! In a scrungly, beanie-stuffed-over-chestnut-locks, black-rimmed-nerd-glasses kind of way.
For a second, nobody says anything.
"For fuck’s sake," someone swears, and then little Max Mayfield is running towards them, ginger braids jumping with the movement. "I told you to be careful."
"Sorry," cutie with the glasses says again. Eddie has never seen him around. He must be one of the new volunteers Chrissy mentioned. "Guess I'll need to practice some mo- ow, shit!"
His hands fly up to cradle his knee. There's a hole and a rapidly spreading bloodstain in the fabric of his jeans.
"Oh fuck," Eddie says, and whips his bandana from his back pocket to press it to the wound. "Red, why don't you hop inside and get the first aid kit? I'll stay here with …"
He trails off expectantly. Cutie's eyes go wide.
"I, erm … Dustin."
"I'll stay here with Dustin."
*
Dustin, it turns out, isn't just cute, but also fun to talk to. He doesn’t gush about what a huge fan he is or ask for an autograph once. Eddie never thought he'd appreciate that one day, but it gets really old really quick.
Instead, they jump from one topic to the next, sitting on one of the benches and watching Max go on her board. Dustin has a quick, sharp wit and isn't afraid to counter Eddie’s jabs with his own, delightfully bitchy sense of humor. Damn, to think he almost missed this one. He really needs to be around more.
"I love this place, y’know? You created something great for these kids."
Eddie jerks to attention. The sun has started to dip, casting Dustin’s smile and the hair poking from his beanie in a soft golden light.
"Thanks man," Eddie murmurs, and feels the bitterness boil back up. "Some people seem to think it needs better publicity, though."
Dustin shuffles awkwardly, winces when the movement pulls on the Care Bears bandaids Max has plastered all over his knee.
"You mean the royal visit?"
Eddie huffs.
"Yeah, man. I mean, what are they expecting me to do, bow and grovel while his Royal Doucheness prances all over the place with his perfect hair and fancy suit and thank him for it? It's not like he cares about these kids, it's all just a gig to him."
Dustin draws his bottom lip between his teeth.
"You can't know that. Maybe he does care. Maybe he's-"
Eddie barks a laugh. "Oh, give me a break. All the royals are good at is looking important and spending our tax money. I can fucking do without-"
"Steve? We gotta leave, c'mon."
They both whip around. A fancy black limousine with tinted windows has pulled up in the parking lot behind them. A gruff looking man is holding the back door open and looking at them expectantly.
Dustin sighs and stands.
"Coming, Hop."
"Wait, wait, what?" Eddie babbles as he walks towards the car, shoulders in a sad little hunch. "What's going on? Who's that guy? Why's he calling you-"
And then it clicks.
"Oh fuck," Eddie says.
Dustin … no, Steve … no, Steven - Crown Prince Steven fucking Harrington - gives him a tight smile while the man ushers him into the backseat.
"Thank you for your time, Mr Munson, I'll see you tomorrow. I'll try not to be too much of a douchebag, I promise."
The door clicks shut.
The car glides away.
Eddie buries his face in his palms.
"Jesus fucking Christ. He's the fucking Prince."
Beside him, wheels grate on asphalt as Max brakes.
"Wow," she deadpans. "You're in some deep shit."
Eddie groans.
Tomorrow is gonna be a long-ass fucking day.
Part 2
All my holiday drabbles
#steddie#steve harrington x eddie munson#steve x eddie#steddie brainrot#steddie fanfic#fanfiction writer#fanfiction#fanfic#my writing#steddie ficlet#steddie holiday drabbles#hype's holiday drabbles
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In Losing Grip On Sinking Ships (1/?)
Summary: Sequel to In Flames I Sleep Soundly; After the divorce, Wanda refuses to give you up.
Chapter word count: 5k+
Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader
Chapter Warnings: Angst, Masturbation
Author’s Note: So... this AU wouldn’t leave me. For my new readers, you don’t have to read the first installment . This can be read as a standalone. Title is based on lyrics of “This Love” by Taylor Swift
AO3 | Masterlist
Taglist: @blackluthxr | @esposadejoyhuerta
Next Chapter: Two
One
It’s not a god damn funeral, Wanda thinks as she stares at her black outfit.
With a huff, she makes the quick decision to reach for the zipper near the curve of where her spine becomes her head, and then pulls it down so hastily it gets out of track and refuses to budge further than her waist.
Shit, Wanda curses under her breath, wiggling her arms from its sleeves, which isn’t exactly difficult given her recent weight loss. At first she tries to shimmy her body out of the dress, but she only succeeds in getting stuck further and sweating under her pits. Unfortunately the weight loss didn’t happen around her middle, and she also couldn’t get it to move upwards and over her head. The options are to either fix the zipper or destroy the dress. Wanda picks the latter.
Grabbing a pair of scissors, she starts to frantically cut through the silky material. Her heart races as she terrorizes the dress with fervor–grunting Sokovian words she’s surprised she still remembers–until the dress pools at her feet in tatters. Wanda feels her energy depleted after, and she crawls on the bed to lie face down, on her stomach.
To some degree, her recent outbursts are gradually becoming a concern, especially since she’s back in her old Manhattan neighborhood. The smallest, most insignificant things tick her off, and a densely populated city like New York is filled with them.
Like last week, when she was shopping at Trader Joe’s, and someone kept hitting her backside with their cart while waiting at the counter.
“I swear to god, if you don’t lay the fuck off–” Wanda’s ears burned when she looked over her shoulder and saw a frail, old woman who looked like she didn't have many years left in her.
“I’m sorry.” Wanda croaked out and then pressed her lips in a straight hard line.
“Oh, it’s alright. We all have bad days. But sweetheart,” The old woman warmly smiled at her and then leaned closer as if to share a secret. “You need to get laid.” She added like she’s giving some age-old, archaic advice.
Wanda’s smile in return was pasty, and she hurried to remove almost half of the stuff(not without receiving a dirty look from an employee who had to put them all back) in her basket so she could leave the counter as soon as possible.
The mysterious universe had a dark sense of humor. It was sex that brought her to this manic-depressive, freak-out-at-a-grocery-store behavior, and to be told by a stranger that she needed more of it was just the icing on top of this tremendous fuckery of a year she’s had.
Wanda turns on her back and closes her eyes for a minute. She doesn’t even know why she’s wasted an hour of choosing what to wear for the day she gets legally separated from you. And yet she couldn’t help but give an extra effort to look good for you. All she knows is the days she gets to see you are rare. She can count on one hand the times you’ve met since that fateful lunch at the diner back in Westview. She needs to look her best in these opportunities.
She needs to look her best, and hopes you’d notice.
Glancing back at her wide-open wardrobe, that’s when she spots it. Hiding in the furthermost end of her rack, is a decade-old sundress she’s kept all this time.
The memory rises unbidden to her mind, before she could stop it.
It was the dress she wore on her first date with you. She recalls picking it specifically because it’s green. She wanted it to match her eyes–your favorite part of her body. It made you gape. It made you go almost stupid with want, forgetting the way to the restaurant where you made reservations because you wouldn’t stop staring at her.
By the end of that night though, the dress was lost somewhere along the trip from the door to the bedroom.
“Aren’t we moving too fast?” You whispered against her swollen lips, breaking the kiss while your hands roamed all over her shaking frame. Wanda merely moaned and put her lips to your neck, kissing every inch of available skin to her.
You’ve known each other for years. It didn’t feel like you were moving too fast. Rather, it was a culmination of sorts–seemingly platonic hugs that lasted just a tad longer than they should, the way your eyes always found each other in a crowded room, kisses on the cheek that came too close to the mouth. And not to mention, the other people you’ve both dated in those times of being more than friends but less than lovers.
The pace was actually agonizingly slow. A slow burn that had put all other slow burns to shame.
You directed Wanda back to your mouth and the kiss that ignited again is its own kind of sex. God, she never really understood the fuzz about making out because her sexual experiences in the past didn’t really pay much attention to foreplay. For a while, she was simply content with the sliding of lips and tongues. But then you dropped to the floor and began pulling down her soaked thong, while your dilated eyes never left hers.
Wanda’s breath hitched at seeing you fall to your knees and gaze at her with incomparable reverence. How could you worship her when you yourself were so achingly beautiful?
She needed you to touch her soon or she’d go crazy. “Please.”
Her panties only made it past one ankle before you dove in to taste her for the first time.
Wanda of the present comes at the ghost sensation of your tongue against her throbbing clit. In truth, it’s just her fingers that brought her to climax while she kneels at the center of her bed, her ruined underwear down past her thighs. She bucks her hips a couple of more times before falling back to the mattress, spent.
That old lady was right. An orgasm does help.
-
The divorce is final.
Today, she signed away any legal right she has as your partner. As for everyone else in the meeting room, it’s just another ordinary day to dissolve a marriage.
Wanda’s wearing the sundress that sort of accidentally gave her release this morning. You keep looking at her, no wonder trying to figure out why the dress looks so familiar. And Wanda can’t look at you straight in the eye without blushing.
You came in with your ever reliable back-up: Natasha. Now that you’re no longer married to her, Wanda’s insecurities about the true nature of your relationship with Natasha has come up to the surface. The way Natasha would pat your back and ask you if you’re alright. The way she’d ask you if you’d like something to drink. The way she also knows you take your coffee black with three teaspoons of brown sugar.
The way she’s just always there.
It annoys her enough that you said Natasha was your person, because then what was she to you? The title of soulmate triumphs over wife, and Wanda wants to be both. She wants all the titles.
Well, maybe not all. She definitely doesn’t want to be called your ex-wife. But she’ll accept the reality for your sake. She wasn’t lying when she’d said she’ll give you everything you want, even if it puts her on the sidelines.
“Hey, do you want to get coffee?” Wanda breaks the spell of silence that lasted some five minutes when your lawyers and Natasha left the room to give you two a moment.
She immediately wants to take back her words when you look at her incredulously like she had grown another head on her lithe, sagged shoulders.
“Seriously?” you say, and spitefully chuckle.
Wanda says nothing, just resorts to quietly admiring you in a skirt suit she’s never seen you wear before. In the short time you’ve both been separated, she’s noticed little changes of yours that makes her homesick for you. You will wear new clothes and shoes, get a new haircut, try a new hobby, walk a certain way, and then all these changes will pile up until you become this inconceivable stranger. Still beautiful–but a stranger nonetheless. She knows the consequences of her actions are harder on you, but maybe, just maybe, it’s equally hard for her too.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t,” you sigh, despondent. “Maybe for you it’s not, but today is the worst day of my life, Wanda. Or second. Or third. I don’t know. There’s so many of them recently, but this is definitely in the top three. I just want to be alone.”
Wanda will never get used to the way you’re now just either angry or tired of dealing with her. She’s afraid to reassess the odds of getting you back and finding out it’s worse than zero.
“Right,” Wanda says, looking down at her feet. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”
You hum in response.
“It is, you know?” Wanda says.
You shoot her a quizzical look.
“It’s hard for me too,” Wanda clarifies. “I spent all morning picking out what to wear and getting all dolled-up, in desperate hopes you’d–you’d change your mind at the last minute.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel bad, or–”
“No,” Wanda cuts in in panic. Somehow she keeps saying the wrong things. “It’s hard for me. Because it’s the end for our marriage when all I want is to be with you right now.”
You avert your gaze and nod solemnly at her as if you understood.
Do you?
Do you, perhaps, feel the same way? Or is she the only one still in love?
“I’m sorry for being a jerk,” you say, eyes downcast still refusing to meet her eyes. “I know it’s unfair for me to act like I’m the only one who’s hurting. I just–I’m tired of being angry and sad and lost all the time. And it doesn’t exactly help when you’re around. For once, I want to feel something else and I need to be alone to figure it out.”
I want to move on from you, is what Wanda thinks you really want to say and her eyes well up. This time, she prays you don’t glance her way. She might just break down right in front of you if you do. She’s never known this kind of desolation. And she only has herself to blame.
For once, she’s thankful for Natasha’s presence when she interrupts the moment, asking if you’re ready to leave.
“I am.” you tell Natasha. You get up and round the long table to approach Wanda. She could no longer stop the tears from falling when she felt you place your hand softly on her shoulder. The touch is so featherlight, it may as well just be her imagination.
“Thank you for giving me the best years of my life. Goodbye, Wanda.”
The pain that racks her entire body causes her to visibly shake. She has no idea how she’s still alive at this point. Not for the first time, she desperately wishes for a do-over. But the clock only moves forward, and it’s still moving to take you away.
Maybe time will also be the one to bring you back someday.
-
Two Months Later
Wanda hasn’t seen you since the divorce. Not once. Nor has she heard from you at all. While you didn’t downright reject her when she had told you that she’d try to get you back, her unanswered texts and unreturned calls should be more than enough to tell her otherwise.
Her only consolation is that you haven’t blocked her number yet. A few days after she last saw you, she texted to remind you to pick up the last of your things she has in possession. Natasha showed up at her door the very next morning, which confirms you still get her texts. The items are inconsequential in nature, but Wanda had the hardest time putting them in a box.
She spent an unnecessary amount of time arranging your hardbound books alphabetically (“It’s just not the same, but a Kindle user would never understand.” you’d explain to her whenever you’d shop for more) and cleaning each protector of your small collection of Funko toys (“A dozen more of those and you won’t have space left in your side of the cabinet. What does that leave you with?” Wanda would reprimand you after seeing a shopping bag full of them in the trunk of the car. “Happiness.” you’d reply with a sheepish grin).
She smiled contritely after she had sealed the package; how ironic that she terribly missed the things about you she’s the least fond of. It’s as if the grieving doesn’t have an end. And if she had known you’d send Natasha to retrieve them, she wouldn’t have given them away. She wanted to keep them–wants to keep more of you as much as possible. Wanda wouldn’t call herself a masochist though. Not really.
Because it’s not over yet. It will take as long as it needs to, and it won’t matter. Patience is her utmost virtue.
And Wanda believes you feel the same, because there are midnights where her phone would ring from an unknown number. She’d answer and listen to shaky, shallow breaths for a minute before the person on the other line ends the call. It couldn’t be anyone else but you, could it? These moments are always hazy, however, muddled by wine and prescription pills. But Wanda swears they happen.
The days aren’t so bleak when she pretends she’s still your wife, and you’re just in some faraway place–like a soldier that has gone to war, she’s left to count the days until she’s in your arms again. She goes about her routine as she’s always done when the two of you were still together; go for a run in the mornings, have eggs and toast for breakfast, and then walk Sparky in the afternoon. Her evenings, excruciating and long, are the loneliest hours. Sleep won’t come easy to her, if it comes at all. Her heart mostly breaks as well for Sparky, who still waits by the door around the time you used to arrive home from work. He’d patiently wait there until Wanda would call for him, or fall asleep in the exact same spot. And it’s not like she can talk to him and explain why you won’t come home. All Wanda can do is wait for Sparky to forget this learned behavior or forget you.
So, for the past two months, she’s been taking it one day at a time. It’s now the only way she knows how to survive. It’s working so far, she muses, as she stands before the proof of it while carrying Sparky under her arm, right in the middle of a quiet street in Queens.
Wanda had loaned the capital for the business right after the divorce papers were signed, and when she got the alimony from it, it was more than enough to pay back the loan in full and still for some change.
She wanted to create something out of what she had destroyed.
And that’s how the borough’s first Sokovian café came to be. Or at least will come to be when the renovations are finally completed. She can’t see much through the scaffolding that is still in place, but she can make out what it would look like once it’s officially open to the public.
Her contractor and fellow Sokovian migrant, Mr. Jacobs spots her from where he is installing the signage. “Ms. Maximoff!”
Wanda smiles up at him, brushing her bangs away from her sight. The haircut is recent and she kind of regrets it. “Is everything okay around here?”
“I believe so. There’s still some electrical stuff to finish, but I’m confident we’ll be done before your opening.” he tells Wanda.
Sparky starts squirming against Wanda’s hold. “Is it okay to come inside or should I come back another day?” Wanda asks.
“Of course. I had my boys clear out the area and install the A/C last night, so you should be comfortable.”
Perfect. She’s yet to test out the oven she ordered, and there are some new recipes she’d like to try.
“And Ms. Maximoff?”
“Yes?”
“Don’t worry, this place is going to do great. They’re gonna love you and our culture.”
A feeling of warmth spreads through Wanda’s chest. “Thank you, Mr. Jacobs.” He gives her a salute before going back to work.
Wanda’s not ready for the emotion that consumes her when she steps inside her new café. She puts Sparky down on the hardwood flooring, and his nose immediately gets to work, sniffing every corner of the room he could find–which isn’t all that long to cover for a regular-sized Jack Russell Terrier like him. The rented space is relatively small, so Wanda had to be smart with its interior design; a long bench stretches from the open kitchen and counter to about two feet from the entrance, spanning two round dining tables that could sit two people at a time; by the window wall facing the street, is a high top table with two chairs. At most, three staff(including her) could fit in the open kitchen, along with a single espresso machine and a wall oven. All in all, the café can accommodate about six customers dining in at a time, which is why she’s hoping she’d do better with take-outs.
Wanda did all the decorations herself, top to bottom. The floral ceilings are a combination of autumn colors–your favorite season–and pendant lights subtly drop from them to emit a faint, yellow glow. The polished concrete wall of the dining area gives it an industrial vibe, while red brick tiles clad the panels of the kitchen area. For the finishing touches, Wanda decided to place a variety of potted plants in every corner of the room.
Standing at the center of it all, Wanda feels a sense of pride and fulfillment–something that seemed implausible to her just a few months before.
"Best coffee in the world. Maybe you should start a café business." You’d joke sometimes whenever she makes you coffee in the morning.
A shadow passes over her eyes as she looks out the window. Needless to say, there’s only one thing missing in it. The person she wants next to her when all her dreams come true.
You.
–
Pietro finishes a whole batch of white chocolate macadamia cookies by himself. Wanda’s twin brother flew in last weekend, a rare occurrence since she only sees him once a year at most. He’d be home in the holidays for dinner, and be gone the following day. He lives with a suitcase, and never stays in a city for longer than two weeks. Wanda wasn’t expecting he’d visit her after she broke the news of her divorce, knowing he had gone through the same ordeal twice already without fuss. Apparently, it’s a run-of-the-mill life event for her brother, and it almost did not make it to their bimonthly check-in calls.
“You’re gonna have to pay me for those.” Wanda tells him. She’s crouched on the floor, feeding Sparky strips of dried meat as she takes a break between baking and practicing her Youtube-acquired skill of Latte Art.
“I thought it’s a welcome home gift.” Pietro says, licking off the crumbs from his fingers. With the bleach in his hair extending to his medium stubbles, their resemblance is close to nonexistent.
“You earn ten times more than I do in a year.”
“So? What is family for if not free food?”
“It’s $52 dollars.” Wanda says.
Pietro hands her a hundred dollar bill. “Keep the change.”
Wanda smirks at him, pocketing the money in her apron. “I intended to.” She passes him a napkin, and gestures at his chin. He waves her off in a pompous manner, and instead, goes to the back of the shop to clean himself up. She didn’t think it’s possible to both know and not know someone at the same time. To look at them and see who they are versus who you think they’re supposed to be. In terms of money and status, he is miles ahead of Wanda, but perhaps at the cost of being unable to find the brother she shared her childhood with in Sokovia. Wanda’s not sure if he still exists beneath the layers of branded suits and expensive perfumes, she just knows she misses him terribly.
“Second Chances,” Pietro proclaims as he returns a minute later, waving his hands wildly with an imitation of a fanfare. “A little corny if you ask me.”
“Well, I’m not asking you,” Wanda contends and then proceeds to scrub the empty tray that Pietro left in the wake of his cookie binge. “It’s a good name. People can interpret it however they want.”
“And you? What was on your mind when you came up with it?”
Wanda doesn’t answer that.
“So,” Pietro jumps into a sitting position on the counter and lets his legs dangle from its edge.
“How’s the quarter-life crisis, sis?”
Wanda cocks an eyebrow and gives him a once over. “Better than yours. All things considered.”
Sparky comes up to him and stands on his hind legs to snuffle at his shiny loafers.
“Touché,” Pietro laughs good-naturedly and crosses his legs to avoid the dog’s attention. “It’s weird though, seeing you get into this kind of thing.”
“What do you mean?” Wanda asks.
“You’re not a salesperson, Wands. Remember your girl scout days? Dad would buy all your cookies because you can’t sell for shit.”
Wanda snorts noisily through her nose. “Mom can’t bake for shit.” She notices the smile fall from his lips at the offhand jab at her brother’s favored parent.
Wanda sighs. When she does get glimpses of the old Pietro, it’s mostly through negative triggers.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to–” Wanda starts to apologize but Pietro quickly changes the subject without a preamble.
“You’re really not going to talk about it?”
“About what?”
“Playing dumb isn’t a good look on you.”
Wanda suddenly drops the tray on the sink, the violent sound of metal hitting metal giving both of them a minor headache. She pauses to think, and then says, “How about you just ask me straight instead of skirting around the topic of she-who-must-not-be-named?”
“Okay,” Pietro says in an annoyingly placid tone. “What were you thinking, cheating on Y/N?”
Wanda swallows dryly. She did ask him to be blunt.
“I wasn’t. There’s… I don’t know how to explain it. There’s this missing gap, and I acted to fill that gap.”
“Was it something that’s missing in your relationship?” Pietro asks and props his cheek on his palm. The question is so familiar to her because she’s asked it herself countless times, the day she kissed Vision for the first time. There wasn’t an epiphany nor were there pieces falling into place when she had slept with him. And when she thought she loved him, it wasn’t because she thought she loved you any less. She came to the conclusion, not too long ago, that perhaps there’s just something rotten inside of her that she simply wasn’t aware of.
Wanda shakes her head, weary at making sense of herself and her decision to risk everything she’s built with you for something as cheap as a fling. “None of this was her fault. Her only mistake was falling for someone who’s way beneath her.”
“I always thought she’s too good for you, no offense.”
Wanda’s smile is brittle as she recalls how Pietro’s toast at the wedding started with that exact sentence, word-for-word. You had squeezed Wanda’s clammy hand as you listened to Pietro rant about Wanda, and jokingly express his regret that you married the lesser twin. Wanda apologized for his tactlessness, and you responded with a kiss to her cheek, telling her how wrong he was, how you were only good and she made you better.
“I’m sorry, Wands,” Pietro tells her earnestly. “I can’t say I’ve been through the same thing even with two divorces under my belt. I don’t think I’ve ever been in love with someone the way you both were with each other–or at least, the way she was in love with you.”
“Thanks, but that's not necessary. I’m going to fix it.” she says.
It stings–the implication that Wanda was incapable of matching your love for her. But it only stings because it’s the truth. You deserve to be happy and she failed. And yet, she also can’t survive the thought of you getting the happiness you deserve from someone else. After all this time, her selfishness hasn’t been tamed.
Which is why Pietro’s next words hit her right in the gut. “Divorce can’t be fixed. Hell, it’s the only resolution for a terminal relationship. And hasn’t it crossed your mind that perhaps, she’s already met someone else?”
Wanda gives up on her search for the rolling pin. She cracks some eggs in a bowl and starts to furiously whisk by hand.
Maybe she’s an awful person for assuming you won’t be able to move on from her that easily.
But that’s just how she sees it.
“No.” she says.
“What makes you so sure?”
“I know her, Piet.”
Pietro starts clapping in slow, steady beats. “She divorces you and you’re still so smug about how she’s so crazy about you.” he says.
“If you’ve ever felt loved by someone like her, you’d understand.”
Pietro ignores his sister’s underhanded attempt to hurt him back. He came to terms with the reality ages ago, that he’s probably not one of the lucky ones who will get to experience the kind love that Wanda boasts about with you. Maybe he had it once, not necessarily in a romantic sense. But when he thinks of love–real love–he thinks of no one but their estranged mother.
“Or maybe,” He jumps off the counter to retrieve his coat hanging from one of the dining chairs. “Love goes away eventually.”
“Not ours.”
Pietro couldn’t help the maniac laughter that escapes his throat. “Are you hearing yourself right now? Do you know how pathetic you sound?”
Wanda purses her lips, continues whisking.
“Okay, how about this. If you really love her, then you’d at least want her to be happy, even if it’s not with you.” Pietro tries to reason.
“Oh, so you’re suddenly an expert on the topic.”
“I’m a dick, not an asshole. And yes, there’s a difference.”
Wanda keeps working the whisk like a madwoman. Large amounts of bubbles are forming in the emulsion, and overbeating the egg mixture is definitely not in the recipe.
Pietro continues, “Yeah, I’m a cheater, same as you are–”
“Don’t you dare–” Wanda suddenly tosses the whisk on the worktop, a glint of something dangerous in her green eyes.
“Let me finish,” Pietro appeases lightly. “I’m a cheater. I cheated on my ex-wives. But when I look in the mirror, I don’t see myself as some anti-hero who has the potential to be an actual hero and become the person they deserve to be with. Because I’ll never be that guy.”
“We’re not the same. We share a birthday, but that’s where the similarities end.”
“We share the same DNA, Wanda,” Pietro smiles through his frustration. Excessive stubbornness–another quality innate to Maximoffs. “But that’s not the point. You know she’d be better off without you. As cliché as it sounds, the only way you can actually show her you love her is by letting her go–completely.”
The shuddering sigh that escapes her is immediately followed by erratic sobs that go out of control fast. Pietro is right there in an instant, an arm thrown over her shoulder as her whole body jerks, rasping for air.
“Shit, I’m sorry.” he murmurs into her crown. “You’ll be okay, Wands. I promise…you’ll be okay.”
“Will you be okay if I leave you here? I have to meet someone in a few.”
Wanda heard you say in earnest. She lost herself for a while, stunned by the kindest pair of eyes she’d ever seen. The day flew by so quickly in your company, she hadn’t realized it was time to go. And to think that she almost skipped freshman orientation because going to New York University wasn’t exactly the plan. Columbia was–where her boyfriend was a junior.
Her boyfriend, who she forgot texted her an hour ago asking if she was ready to go, and hadn’t heard back from her.
“Y-Yeah, my boyfriend is on the way to pick me up.” she mumbled, distracted by the glow of the sunset forming a halo around your head. You were beautiful in a way that was not entirely evident at first. Wanda was curious if anybody else had made the same discovery.
“It was nice meeting you, Wanda.”
“Likewise, Y/N.” she smiled like she’d been doing all day with you, and so frequently, that the muscles on her face were beginning to hurt a little.
The smile you returned her way was glorious, but in a flash you were already walking away. Wanda couldn’t describe the way she fervently despised watching you go, especially without your number on her phone and no means to contact you in the future.
“Y/N?” Wanda called out. Her heart seemed to swell and swing against her rib cage.
“Yes?”
“Do you, maybe, want to hang out sometime?”
And the kindest eyes that ever looked at her gave the answer.
Pietro leaves shortly after the tremors subside and her breathing returns to normal. The panic attacks aren’t that frequent, but she does get them now from time-to-time. They started right after the night you gave Wanda your wedding ring.
With her brother gone, Wanda is left to wonder if you’ve met someone. She is left to wonder if you’re no longer miserable like she is, if you’ve taken considerable strides in moving on with your life. She tries calling you. Not to talk, but just to check if you still haven’t blocked her number. After several rings, you don’t pick up as expected. Not a setback. Not a progress either. She pretends you’re asleep or in the shower. She pretends you mean to call her back, but forgets to.
And if a confirmation of not being blocked is all she gets, she’ll take it.
She’ll take what you can give even if it’s nothing.
#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff x you#ifiss 2#ilgoss#wanda maximoff imagine#wanda maximoff#marvel#unbetad#My writing#my fic
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Love? Love. (part 2)
Andy Barber x Reader
warnings-age gap,slow burn,smut
i hope yall enjoy this, i wrote it from the pit of despair.
p.s.- i promise you dom daddy andy is cumming soon ;)
..................................................................................................................
The night following the fateful events of Andy sweating like a damn teenager after meeting y/n had resulted in restless sleep sprinkled with incessant thoughts of her.
Did she have a boyfriend? hmm that would be bad
But the thought of her being available is somehow worse
damn it Andrew! You are not a silly little boy anymore, you are a grown ass man and you can talk to a girl without giggling and kicking your feet in the air!
As the morning rolled in, it seemed like Andy's prayers were answered as a smiling Y/n was once again at his doorstep.
she looked different in the morning, somehow more majestic.Still in her sleep shorts and her hair in a messy bun. lips looked plumper somehow, hints of slumber still in her eyes.
"Good morning Andy", she grumbles.
" Good morning, angel," Andy tries to test the waters, "missed me so soon?"
fuck! I sound like a creep! maybe I should jus-
His thoughts are interrupted with a soft giggle,
"Yes, Mr. Barber, you couldn't possibly fathom how hard it was for me to spend all that time away from you", she rolls her eyes, but smiles nonetheless.
there's some truth to it, she couldn't exactly shrug of the feeling of….. um…. Andy from her heart and her mind and especially her pussy.
the low vibrato of his voice was enough to cause her to flood with heat and arousal,
"yes Andy! right there", His tongue lapping at my cilt
I bet he's a fucking munch when it comes to eating out
I bet he's a biter
I bet he'd slap my face with it
I bet he was one for holding me down and pounding me into the mattress
I bet he'd cum in m-
GIRL- IT'S 9 IN THE MORNING
She does that thing again, where she tries to divert her eyes from the man in front of her,
"um, I think the mailman might have accidentally delivered our stuff to you."
The sudden shyness in her demeanor doesn't go unnoticed by Andy's watchful eyes.
"I just had Jacob bring in the mail, why don't you come in and make yourself comfortable while you sort through the stuff?", he ushers her inside.
Jacob's eyes light up as he sees her, "Y/n! I was just thinking about you! my chemistry grades are sooooo tanked and i need your help", he looks at Andy, "Dad, would it be alright if y/n tutored me?"
"Sure, Jake, I mean if she finds time in her schedule", they look at y/n for an answer.
" Sure thing, I'm free by 6 p.m. on weekdays after classes, I think I could fit you in around…seven?"
"Done", Jacob smiles at her as he grabs his school bag and slings it over his shoulder, " I'll see you tomorrow then? at seven?".
"Yeah, at seven".
" Bye dad, love you."
"Love you too." With that Andy and Y/n fall into a comfortable silence as she sorts through the mail and separates the ones meant for her house.
"Can i ask you something?" Andy breaks the silence.
"You just did", y/n smirks at him.
" Okay, smartass," Andy can't help but smile at her 12-year-old-boy-esquè-humor.
"Can i ask you two things then, " Andy leans forward from opposite to her on the dining table, enjoying the back and forth between them.
"Go ahead, jeez it's like a question paper come to life",y/n bites her lower lip in anticipation.
Andy tries a more casual, less creepy approach,
"How do you find the time to tutor after coming home from college? I mean you wouldn't have time for other things like for example, uhh a boyfriend."
Y/n's cheeks turn red and she again diverts her attention from Andy, "I don't have one, Mr. Barber"
The admission makes Andy's stomach flutter with a sense of relief and something else…..a wave of pure and primal desire.
She looks up at Andy with a flustered smile and lustful, hooded eyes, looking like the perfect mix of a nymph and a virgin, "is that what you wanted to know Andy? because let me tell you, you weren't being very subtle." she teases.
"What if I did, sweets? What if I wanted to know if there was a limpy ,lacking frat boy who was doing nothing but disappointing you every time he touched you?" Andy's eyes go darker, the blue ring of his eyes being engulfed by his blown out pupils.
"Well then Mr. Barber, let me tell you that i don't have any frat boys disappointing me at night," she leans in closer, so much that Andy can feel her warm breath on his lips, "what are you gonna do about it?"
Almost.
This six letter word was the bane of Andy Barber's existence.
She was so close, I could smell the faint smell of vanilla on her skin.
She was so close, I could see the tiny freckles by her nose.
She was so close, so, so close.
Our lips almost touched
Almost.
Suddenly, the door opens and then shuts close and the sounds of progressing footsteps breaks them apart.
"Hey, I just forgot my phone here." Jacob doesn't question the awkwardness in the room as he grabs his phone and leaves once again.
In a frenzy, Y/n collects her mail and leaves for the door too, "I'm sorry if I overstepped Andy, I swear it won't happen again." Her voice small and choked,
but I fucking hope it does happen again and again and again and again
Amused by her nervousness, Andy tries to speak, but before he can get her attention, she has already left.
Well she'd be here again at seven tomorrow, right?
#andy barber smut#andy barber x reader#chris evans x reader#chris evans smut#ransom drysdale x reader#ransom drysdale smut#ari levinson smut#ari levinson x reader#andy barber#chris evans characters#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers smut#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes smut
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