#so i was like okay this sucks but oh well i’ve got my own shit to deal with now that i’ve gotten laid off so i’ll just give her space
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a mutual pain in the ass
series masterlist
this was funny the first two times but i'm being kicked out of my own bed by a toddler.
danny, it's happened three times. and he had a nightmare.
this would've been cute if he was a little boy but he's 15!
you're the one who agreed to let him stay with us! mae and max had agreed but nooo you wanted to be his favorite.
max has three championships!
let me have this!!
i deserve the right to be someone's favorite. even if it's the little twerp's favorite.
you know he's just doing this to get under your skin right?
yes, i know that daph! that doesn't make it any less annoying
i warned you from the start that rhys would be like this.
i thought it was something he would grow out of!
he does it to annoy you dan. but i'll talk to him.
no! then he'll know he's getting to me! he can't know that!
oh my god daniel.
gael perez thoughts and prayers to daniel jones-ricciardo
daniel jones-ricciardo i'm going to laugh my ass off when your sisters start interrupting your dates and shit.
gael perez my sisters are way too mature for that shit.
rhys jones I CAN BE MATURE BITCH!
daniel jones-ricciardo is this what max felt when corey kept showing up unannounced to his house?
max jones-verstappen you still have a few years until you have to give him a key.
daphne jones-ricciardo like i said, this is no one's fault but daniel.
isabella perez rhys who's your favorite brother-in-law?
rhys jones that's like asking me who's my favorite cat? do i pick meredith? olivia? benjamin? sassy? jimmy? holly?
zoya torres well my favorite leclerc is baby jewel so that’s not a tough choice for me.
fernando alonso he’s deflecting. which means he has a favorite or he likes you both.
rhys jones i have a reputation to maintain. i can’t say i like them.
daniel jones-ricciardo WHICH MEANS HE LIKES US! A WIN IS A WIN!
max jones-verstappen see you should’ve known he liked you the moment he threw a tantrum and threatened zac’s safety after mclaren dropped you
daphne jones-ricciardo and you should’ve known after silverstone ‘21
pato o'ward i still don't know if he likes me.
rhys jones i like you pato! you're pretty cool!
rhys jones cooler than max and daniel.
pato o'ward SUCK ON THAT BITCHES!
sebastian vettel
isabella perez if i ever hear max emilian jones-verstappen complain about corey i'll show him the obvious pictures of him crashing daphne and daniel’s dates
max jones-verstappen i’ve never done that! ever!
freya vettel what about that time you crashed daph and daniel's anniversary dinner?
natalia ruiz or that time you threatened to show up on their honeymoon?
esteban ocon or when you got in between them as they were about to kiss?
rhys jones i remember you crying one time because daniel wanted to spend time with his wife and not you
fernando alonso there's also the time max didn't speak to daniel for a week after daniel ditched him to spend time with daphne before the rep tour.
max jones-verstappen OKAY! I GET IT! I'M THEIR THIRD WHEEL!!
lewis hamilton you act like their child, and i was convinced bailey was their child.
mae jones-verstappen i don't ever want to hear this man complaining about corey ever again.
daniel jones-ricciardo and i've been complaining about rhys when the biggest problem has been max.
daphne jones-ricciardo AND! he has a key to our places! he has his own room! the cats adore him!
gael perez this dude is complaining about corey when he's exactly like him.
max jones-verstappen I SHARE THAT ROOM WITH MY WIFE DAPHNE!
daphne jones-verstappen YOU'VE CRASHED MORE DATES THAN I CAN REMEMBER!!
lance stroll lmao!!! max can't win everything!!
isabella perez how can you expect him to win against the daphne jones-ricciardo
oscar piastri bailey is their child but so is max or that's what she's saying.
bailey winters corey arrives to a biggest third wheel competition and max verstappen is already there.
lando norris it's a loss for corey because max wins everything.
penelope trevino max is a hypocrite for that.
max jones-verstappen i hate every single one of you
sebastian vettel we've gone over this max, no you don't.
max jones-verstappen i don't actually but stop calling me out!
zoya torres but you make it so easy maxie.
max jones-verstappen YOU SHUT YOUR MOUTH ZOYA.
zoya torres you're such a hater maxie.
fernando alonso i don't know why any of you are arguing about third wheels when all of you have your own.
rowan todd we do not!
lewis hamilton rowan and pierre have yuki
sebastian vettel freya and mick have lance
fernando alonso charles and natalia have many, but mainly joris.
alex albon bailey and lando have max f.
george russell arthur and dulce have dulce's friend.
gael perez logan and zoya have conan. isa and oscar have larri.
alex albon it's almost comical and i have to laugh.
isabella perez son of a bitch they're right.
arthur leclerc you've got to be kidding me.
lewis hamilton how did none of you notice this?
daniel jones-ricciardo we're dumb?
fernando alonso that tracks.
taglist: @burningcupcakefire @arkhammaid @applopie @sunflower-golden-vol6 @lorarri @bb-swift @thewannabewriter @mypage-myfandoms @stopeatread @hobiismyhopeu @lilsiz @alessioayla @niniluvsainz @au-ghosttype @six-call @justtprachisblog @nichmeddar @landonorizzz @unluckyyoshi @cool-ultra-nerd @kami10471633 @1nt3rnetgf @fernandoswarcrimes @arieltwvdtohamflash @brekkers-whore @natcha888 @camdensreg @mycenterfold @dear-fifi @georgeparisole @dan3avocado @nikfigueiredo @namgification @jensonsonlybutton @weekendlusting @trouble-sistar @lesliiieeeee @leclercsluv @33-81 @theseus-jpg @sarah-thatstings-ann @minmira95 @casperlikej @formulaonebuff @hopenshaw @ijustgomessitupx @hwalllllllelujah @doodlehunz @prongsvault
¡leclerc-s speaks!
y'all this was supposed to come out much sooner in the day but i got busy so apologizes for that. i feel like this part is ass but we'll deal with it, i could always come back and edit it later.
¡disclaimer!
this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!
#leclerc-s#the honest series#formula 1#formula 1 fic#fanfic#fanfiction#f1#f1 smau#f1 social media au#f1 instagram au#f1 fic#daniel ricciardo#daniel ricciardo x female oc
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guys things are happening
#so i met this girl at work last summer and we clicked right away and we were super close for a while#and it was really only a few months but i considered her one of my best friends#and then both of us got promoted to basically shift leads and right after that things just got really weird between us#i never figured out what exactly happened but it was just like tense and off which sucked bc the time before that was so much fun#but i just pushed it aside bc i still wanted to be friends with her and i was hoping it would just pass i gués#and THEN a couple months later she got promoted to store manager which was… shocking#i want to make it super clear i did not want to be manager and i truly was not jealous of her job#but i just did not think she was the right choice for manager bc after working super closely with her for months#i had seen her do sooo much shit that was either not allowed or just like not correct and straight up kinda dumb??#but none of the higher ups knew about it bc i would always help her fix her mistakes bc she was my friend and i wanted things done right yk#so anyway she became manager and our friendship just got even weirder bc suddenly she was my boss and i did not think she was a good manager#as much as i still loved her as a person she just got on my nerves a lot at work bc of the way she was running things#THEN a month after that annual company wide layoffs happened and i got laid off 😍 which i have vented a ton about on here bc it was awful#and the one bright side to it was that i thought maybe our friendship could start to go back to normal now that we didn’t work together#but instead she pretty much stopped talking to me completely aside from sending me a tiktok occasionally#so i was like okay this sucks but oh well i’ve got my own shit to deal with now that i’ve gotten laid off so i’ll just give her space#and tbh i was just hoping a band we both like would go on tour soon or something so i’d have a good opportunity to ask her to hang out again#BUT THEN she texted me a few minutes ago and turns out she just got fired???#which does not happen often at that job btw there’s very low turnover i think only like 2 people got fired the whole time i worked there#usually layoffs are the only time people end up leaving#and it’s weird bc i spent all that time thinking it was a bad choice for them to make her manager and she wasn’t doing a good job#but i’m still somehow surprised???#and i feel so guilty bc i talked so much shit about the whole thing with one of my other friends bc her management pissed me off so bad#and it’s not like me talking about it with someone who didn’t even work there caused her to get fired but i still feel so bad#like yeah i do think she shouldn’t have been manager in the first place but i would never wish that on someone yk#so idk i’m just like in a very weird headspace rn!!#vent#lj.txt
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sworn enemy - matt sturniolo
I don’t have many enemies in my life. I try to get along with most people, and even if I don’t like them, I do my best to be friendly no matter what. But there’s one person that I absolutely cannot stand: Matt Sturniolo.
I moved to LA about six months ago, and the triplets were some of the first people I met. I got close with Nick first, then Chris, and I attempted to get close with Matt, but he was so closed off and became outwardly rude to me every interaction we had. I have no idea why he hates me so much, but I will not tolerate him giving me that kind of attitude for no reason when I’ve tried to be his friend.
So I don’t try anymore. I’m over at their house more than I’m at mine, and I’ve gotten to the point of completely ignoring that asshole when he comes into the room. Is it rude to ignore someone in their own home? Sure, but none of this would be happening if he didn’t make it abundantly clear from day one that he has no interest in being my friend.
Nick and Chris invited me over tonight to watch a movie, so of course I accepted. Despite everything with Matt, I absolutely adore Nick and Chris and would never turn down an opportunity to spend time with them.
“Helloooo,” I say when I walk into the living room, where they’re already setting up the movie.
“Hey!” Nick smiles as he gives me a hug. “Movie’s almost ready, you wanna get some snacks?”
I nod and head to the kitchen, saying hello to Chris in the process. I’m so invested in rummaging through their fridge that I don’t even notice Matt walk into the room until he groans.
“Oh joy, look who’s here!” he says as I turn around.
“Don’t worry, I won’t bother you,” I tell him as I grab some drinks. “Just go back to your cave and it’ll be like I’m not even here!”
He rolls his eyes. “I can feel your presence even from there. Seriously, who invited her?”
“We did,” Chris says. “Come on dude, isn’t this getting a little old? It’s time to get over whatever dumb shit you have against her and grow up.”
Matt shakes his head as he takes a box of Goldfish to the couch. “Nah, I’m good. So what are we watching?”
“Oh, so now you wanna watch with us?” I ask. “Two seconds ago you were acting like it was the end of the world that I’m here.”
“Well, this is my house, and I should be able to watch a movie in my house even when little annoying creatures are sitting on my couch,” he smiles sarcastically at me.
I say nothing in response. He’s such a dick.
“Oh, before I forget, do you want to come to TopGolf tomorrow night with us and our friends?” Chris asks me.
“I wish, but I’m going to a bar tomorrow night with my roommate,” I tell him.
“No worries, we’ll go another time. Matt’s not going either because he’s just too good for all of us, isn’t that right Matt?” Chris teases and pokes Matt’s stomach, earning a punch to his upper arm from Matt.
I roll my eyes at Matt’s clear inability to have any fun and sit back as the movie begins.
I should not have gone out tonight. I’m having the worst night. I should have gone to TopGolf with Chris and Nick. All my life choices are being regretted.
My roommate is currently in the bathroom probably sucking some random guy off, and I have somehow gotten in the middle of two drunk guys fighting over god knows what. The place is crowded and I’m being swallowed in a sea of people as I desperately try to get away from the fight before punches start being thrown.
I’m unsuccessful.
In the midst of the chaos, one of the guys accidentally nails me right in the eye as he goes to hit the other. He doesn’t even notice and continues going after him, but other people do notice. I really wish they hadn’t. I want nothing more than to just get out of there.
I push my way to the entrance and ignore the small crowd of people following me and asking if I’m okay.
“I’m fine,” I tell them, speeding up and breathing a sigh of relief when I make it outside.
The pain in my eye doesn’t even register until I open my camera and see it: red, bloody, and already starting to swell. I’m tearing up, and I can’t tell if it’s from the pain or from the disaster that is tonight. I need to go home, but there’s no way I’m going back inside to get my roommate, and she definitely won’t see if I text or call her. I could Uber, but I’m terrified of Ubering alone, especially in Los Angeles at 11 PM. I don’t want to bother Nick and Chris while they’re out, even though I know they would drop everything to get me.
A pit in my stomach rises as I click Matt’s contact name and text him.
are you up? kind of in a situation here and need a ride
Bruh
Call someone else
i wouldn’t ask unless i really needed help
please
I hate how desperate I sound, especially to him, but I’m cold and scared and in pain, so at this point I really don’t care.
Jesus fine where are u
I send him my location and wait. He pulls up ten minutes later, and I do my best to hide my tear stained and bloody face as I get in the car.
“Thank you so much,” I tell him, trying to control my shaky voice. “I’m really sorry, I just–”
“Are you okay?” he asks. I’m barely looking at him, but I can feel him staring at me.
“Yeah, why?”
He turns my face towards him with his thumb. His eyes widen when he sees my eye, which definitely looks worse than it did 10 minutes ago. “Dude! What the fuck happened???”
“Nothing, I’m fine,” I tell him, my eyes starting to well up again.
“You’re not fine. What happened? Who did this to you?”
“Nobody did anything, I swear. Two guys were just fighting and I couldn’t move fast enough and I got hit. It’s my fault, but I’m fine. It doesn’t even hurt,” I explain unconvincingly as I start to cry.
“If it doesn’t hurt, why are you crying?”
“Because I just wanna go home, Matt! Can you just take me home?” I sob.
“Okay, okay,” he says gently as he switches gears to drive. “Can I take you to my house? We need to clean up that eye.”
I nod and look out the window as he drives us home. He is the absolute last person I want to see in this state. I know he’s going to use this against me in a few days and he’s never going to let me live it down.
When we get to the triplets’ house, I make a beeline for Matt’s bathroom and look at myself in the mirror.
“Oh my god,” I mumble. I look awful. My eye is completely swollen and it’s turning purple. I have a gash in my cheek. “Why the fuck did I go out tonight?” I say as Matt walks in behind me. “I have to go to work looking like this! I’m not gonna make any tips! People are gonna throw up looking at me!”
“Okay, calm down,” he tells me. “Sit on the toilet. I’m gonna clean it and get you some ice and then you can just chill here, okay?”
I nod and sit down on the toilet lid as he gets a cotton ball and some hydrogen peroxide. He tilts my chin up to look at him. “Little sting,” he mumbles. I scrunch my face at the feeling of the peroxide on the cut. “I know, I’m sorry, almost done.”
He dabs the cut a few times and throws the cotton ball out. “Come on,” he says, motioning me to get up. “Go lay down and I’ll get ice.”
I silently oblige and lay on his bed, giving him a small smile when he returns with some ice chunks in a ziplock bag covered in a paper towel.
“It’s the best I could do,” he says when he hands it to me. “We don’t have any actual ice packs.”
“It’s great, thank you.”
He lays down next to me and turns on the TV. I’m not even paying attention. All I can think about is trying not to ask the one thing I desperately want to know. I almost keep myself from saying it, until it just comes out of my mouth like word vomit.
“Why don’t you like me?”
He looks at me, his eyebrows slightly furrowed. “What?”
I immediately regret everything, but I ask again. “Why don’t you like me? I mean, Nick and Chris both like me, so I would assume you would too, but like… did I do something to you?”
He sits up and turns the TV off. “I dropped everything tonight to come save you from a bar. Why don’t you think I like you?”
“You’re just so mean to me. You have been since the day we met. And I don’t understand what I did to deserve that. If you don’t like me, that’s fine, I just want to know why.”
He doesn’t say anything for a moment. “I do like you. I never meant to make it seem like I don’t, I thought we were just playing around. Like friends tease each other, ya know?”
“Well yeah, but… you’ve never done anything to make me think we’re friends, so…”
“I’m sorry,” he says. He opens his mouth like he’s going to say something else, but then closes it.
“What?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “Nothin. Do you want to stay here tonight? I can get you something to change into.”
“Oh,” I reply, completely taken aback by this. “Yeah… yeah, that would be nice. Thank you.”
He offers me a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt which I take into the bathroom and change into, discarding the ice pack in the process. I take another look in the mirror and sigh.
“God, I look fucking disgusting,” I say when I climb back into his bed.
“You look beautiful,” he says so quietly I have to double check if I even heard him correctly.
“Don’t tell me that just because you feel bad for me.”
“I’m not.” He turns on his side to face me. “You are beautiful.”
“Why are you being so nice to me all of a sudden?”
His eyes are moving between my eyes and my lips. I’m starting to put the pieces together, and it’s terrifying.
“Because I’m tired of pushing my feelings down and making it your problem,” he says. I don’t say anything, I just give him time to explain. “I didn’t want to like you because you were Nick and Chris’ friend first, and I didn’t want to ruin anything. I thought being a dick would make my feelings go away. It didn’t.”
“I like you, Matt,” I whisper. “I have since I first met you. It made me so sad to think that you didn’t like me. And I’m sorry I’ve also been mean to you.”
“Don’t be sorry, I deserved it,” he says. “Do you still hurt?”
I shake my head. “Not really.”
“Good,” he says before lightly holding my cheek and pressing a soft kiss to my lips. I freeze for a moment, not fully processing what’s happening, and then I hold his wrist and kiss him back, our lips moving perfectly together.
It’s clear that neither of us have any intention of taking it further tonight. We continue to kiss for just a couple minutes until we separate, doing nothing but staring into each others’ eyes.
“Goodnight, Matt,” I say.
“Goodnight.”
#matt sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#nick sturniolo#matt sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo x reader#sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo smut#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#sturniolo x reader
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Part 1.
Maybe if Steve acts casual Robin won’t even notice. She barely pays attention to him when she’s too busy rambling about her love life. Or lack there of. If Steve’s lucky, today is gonna be one of those days.
But Steve’s good luck probably ended the first time he took a look at a demogorgon.
“What is that?” Robin giggled. If she finds this amusing wait until she hears what actually happened.
“What?”
“Don’t play dumb. That only worked when I thought you were an actual idiot.” She rolled her eyes.
“Yeah well, I was hoping you wouldn’t notice.” Steve put on his family video vest and clocked in.
“What? I notice things!” Robin exclaimed when Steve made his way to the counter.
“Yeah, when you’re not too busy daydreaming about Vickie.”
“You’re changing the subject!”
“Objection!”
“Stop it!”
Steve sighed. How could you explain your friend sucked your neck to make your another friend jealous when you don’t even like said friend? Tricky.
Ugh. Robin was gonna make fun of him.
“You wouldn’t believe me.” Steve tried. It was a last resort to save himself from the embarrassment.
“Yeah, because I’ve never experienced anything out of the ordinary.” She raised an eyebrow. Steve knew she wouldn’t let it go. “When did you even go on a date, dingus? I don’t remember you telling me about it.”
“I didn’t go on a date.”
“Well then who did that?” She narrowed her eyes. “Ew! Are you in a friends with benefits situation?” She look scandalized and curious at the same time. “Because honestly Steve, I don’t think that’s your thing. I mean even if you try, it wouldn’t work out. You’re like an actual romantic. Wanting a serious relationship, yearning connection and all that shit. It would be cute if you weren’t kinda desperate sometimes.” Okay he had to cut her off if he wanted to keep his ego unbruised.
“Jesus! Okay! You don’t have to say it like I’m some loser who can’t get a girlfriend!” If he needed humbling he knew who to call now though.
“But you kind of are.”
“Do you want to know or not?” Even if he was embarrassed about the whole thing, he couldn’t lie and say he wasn’t hoping Robin would give him some insight. Once she stopped making fun of him. “It was Eddie.”
Her eyes widened in surprise and… excitement? “Holy shit! It finally happened?” What is she talking about now? “I thought I would actually have to wait another year at least for you guys to figure it out.” There’s nothing that makes Steve feel more inadequate than when he doesn’t get what people are talking about. “I mean anyone who’s got eyes could see how much you two liked each other and it’s cute but I was getting tired of the pining..” she trailed off when she saw how silent Steve was. “Why aren’t you as excited as me?”
Pining? Like each other? Did Robin think..? Did Eddie?
“What the fuck are you talking about?” He questioned. His mind was going through every interaction him and Eddie once had. Trying to analyze his own behavior to come up with an explanation as to why someone would think he likes Eddie.
“Oh god. I thought. Did you guys not like… get together?” She was hesitant. It felt like she was trying not to scare a wild animal.
“No.”
“I gotta stop running my mouth like that. I’m sorry.” She looked mortified and it would be funny if this was another situation. “But what? Why would he do that? I’m so lost here, Steve.”
Steve went through backstory first, then he started retelling the events of the other day. Including how he actually enjoyed himself a little. He might as well be a hundred percent transparent, she was his best friend after all.
“Robin, say something.” His best friend being silent was not something he was used to.
“I’m so confused.” She said.
“Me too.” His confusion was starting to fade. The answer right in front of his face.
“So you’re… not together? Even after that?”
“I don’t even like him like that!”
“But you said you liked it!”
“Who wouldn’t!”
“I wouldn’t! Steve, a boy giving me hickeys is one of my worst nightmares.” He knew that. He knew it meant something that he liked it. The question is if he’s ready to face what it means.
“I- I know, okay?”
“Steve, say the word and we’ll stop talking about this.” He loves his best friend. He doesn’t know what he’d do without her.
“No. I think I’m ready.” Steve muttered. Robin smiled gently at him and that was all the encouragement he needed to feel safe enough to say it out loud.
“I like him.”
They hugged.
-
“It kinda sucks that he doesn’t like me back though.”
Robin thunked her head on the counter.
#kinda rushed#don’t know if this is going anywhere#steddie#steveddie#steve x eddie#eddie x steve#steve harrington x eddie munson#steve harrington#eddie munson#robin buckley#stranger things#stranger things 4#ficlet#mer writes sometimes#platonic stobin#i want what they have#steve and robin#eddie pov next ?? perhaps ?
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He is much more older than you - part 3
part 1 || part 2 / this is weird. I don’t feel good these days. Forgive me please, i love you 💕
When Simon saw you, the first thing he thought was how beautiful you were. Just like many other soldiers and rookies.
When Soap was talking to you for the first time, Simon hesitated to introduce himself to you. He wasn’t shy or anything, God, he was far from that. He knew what to say to make a woman fall in love with him, but still he hesitated. You were younger, so much younger than him.
He tried everything to ignore you, to ignore his feelings for you. He failed. His heart failed.
The day you first sucked his cock, was on his mind every day and night.
He still remembered the way your hands felt around him, the way your lips parted to take his cock like the good little girl you were.
“Mhm, yeah. Good fuckin’ girl. Takin’ me so well, so fuckin’ well.”
He moaned and groaned, kept pushing his hips back against the wall to savor the feeling of your mouth.
He came so hard…and fast, much to his dismay. But he wasn’t the one to complain.
He came to his senses after realizing what had happened, and he wanted to knock himself out. He was your superior, he was your lieutenant. He was twice your age. It wasn’t appropriate, it wasn’t normal. It was unprofessional of him.
“Get out. Just get out, leave my office.”
He muttered to you while zipping up his pants, and the pure hurt that crossed your face was something he regretted for a brief moment.
You complied, though. You got out and never looked back. You heard his fist punching the wall, but you ignored. After getting back into your room, you let out the most painful sob ever. You cried, cried and cried until the sun came up again.
You questioned yourself. Was it normal for you to like a guy who was much more older than you? Was it normal that he let you suck his cock? Did he regret it? Yes. Did he just use you for his own pleasure, just like the other women?
It was infuriating. This wasn’t just heartbreak, this was far from that, that you couldn’t name.
Wiping away your tears, you decided to take some medicine from the kitchen. Your brain was mushy, and all you needed was an Advil.
Getting out of your room, you double checked the corridor for anyone and after finding none you walked down to the kitchen.
A gasp left your mouth as you came face to chest with the heartbreaker.
You looked down and stepped aside, leaving him behind with a confused expression.
“Sergeant,”
“I’ve already talked to Price. I’m not coming to the training.”
You cut him off mid sentence, and mumbled with a cracked voice. You heard him sigh with a heavy voice, then steps were coming towards you.
He stood next to you, not saying a word.
“I want you to understand, that this- is not appropriate.”
You snorted a laugh, but you were far from happy.
“Oh yeah it’s not, so you used my fucking mouth to cum?”
He growled out a curse word, his chest vibrating next to your head.
“Language.”
You angrily slammed the glass on the counter, and turned to look at him.
His eyes took you in fully, your red nose and puffy eyes made his heart clench.
“Language? You know what? Fuck you! I’m done with this shit, okay?”
You yelled, and he closed his eyes. It was silent for a moment before he opened his eyes again.
“ I just don’t want you to feel bad after we start..this.”
You sighed and gripped your nose, feeling like crying again. Why wouldn’t he just give in, it was exhausting.
“I-“
You took a deep breath.
“Y’know what I want? All I want is you. Yeah, you. Not your cock, not your mouth. Your heart is what I want, what I need Ghost.”
Simon’s heart started pounding against his ribcage, and he swallowed the lump in his throat.
“Pretty girl…I’ve never given my heart to anyone before is what you forget.”
He mumbled and took a step forward, hand reaching out to wipe your eyes. You shuddered and threw your arms around him, and he chuckled.
“Sweet little girl wants my heart, hm?”
He smiled, eyes softened as he looked at the window to see the reflections of you two.
“Don’t cry over me, yeah?”
You sniffled and hugged him tighter. Finally feeling peace again. Your headache was worse by now, but this was worth it.
“Don’t make me cry, then.”
He smiled again, and put his chin down on your head.
“Let me make it up to, pretty girl.”
#call of duty#cod mwf2#simon riley#simon riley angst#simon riley x reader#call of dooty#simon ghost riley#simon riley x you#ghost x you#simon riley fluff#he’s much more older than you#cod mw x reader#cod modern warfare#call of duty modern warfare#cod men#drabble#simon riley smut#simon ghost x reader#simon ghost x you#ghost simon riley#angst fluff#ghost cod#ghost x reader
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It’s Alright, It’s Okay
Pairing: Daryl Dixon x fem!reader {Could be platonic but that’s not where my brain was}
Setting: Alexandria era
Warnings: Mentions of self harm, struggles with mental illness
Summary: You accidentally allow Daryl to see your scars.
A/N: Yesterday sucked for me for a million different reasons. This is really a way for me to vent more than anything. I’ve never done a y/n before so I’m sorry if I screw it up. No beta, all mistakes are cause I suck.
“I got the dishes!” You volunteered, probably a little too cheerfully, before collecting the empty plates from the coffee table and shuffling along to the kitchen. You had a dining table but it had never seen a single use.
It had been a rather uneventful day in Alexandria, for which you were thankful. That meant no one had died just trying to complete what used to be mundane tasks for everyday living. Now, since the world had gone to shit, everything was a risk. Just scrubbing the sauce from those dishes could somehow very well lead to your demise. Regardless, you rolled up your sleeves and ran the water.
Daryl had brought home a deer earlier in the day. It was a large buck that would feed the town for a while if the meat was rationed properly. He had been given his own portion, as per usual, for being responsible for the kill. The archer had used the meat grinder in the kitchen at his and Carol’s place, meaning, of course, that Carol had offered and he had shrugged while sharpening a knife.
You had chosen that moment to knock on their door. The silver-haired woman had shown you a cookie recipe but the pantry was out of an ingredient. Carol usually had the things you needed or would at least know something you could substitute.
“Oh, man! My sister used to make venison spaghetti!” You had commented while she had stepped away to get what you needed. You had half a box of angel hair pasta and a can of sauce at your place. “Hey, Dixon?” You continued when he hummed in acknowledgment, “think I could steal just a little of this to make some?”
He had stared at you for a moment before giving a nod. In your excitement, you had thrown him an invite to share the meal just as Carol returned and handed over the ziplock bag with the ingredient you needed for the cookies.
“Alright.” He drawled, sheathing the knife he had been working with.
You quickly invited Carol as well, realizing what you had done, but she smiled knowingly and shook her head. You had at least waited until you were on their porch before slapping a palm to your forehead and calling yourself an idiot.
Still, dinner had gone over without a hitch, even if you did sit side by side on the couch with your plates on your laps. You had laughed when he’d tip back his head to dangle the end of the noodles over his mouth so he could descend the forkful carefully. He had even chuckled when you had dropped half a bite onto your shirt when trying to mimic his actions. It had really been…nice.
Now you stood in your kitchen, rinsing the dishes and placing them in the strainer. You hadn’t heard him enter, but you rarely did. The man moved like a ghost for someone his size.
“S’that from?” His sudden inquiry from just behind you had startled you enough to send the plate clattering into the sink. It didn’t break, thank goodness.
“What’s what from?” You replied, casting him a brief glance before you continued your task. The last dish was quickly rinsed and placed with the others.
“Them scars.”
You were drying your hands on a towel when you suddenly stilled. Fuck. The pale, raised imperfections stood out starkly on your forearms and you instantly felt nausea creeping up your throat, burning at the back of your tongue. “Oh, that’s nothing.” You dropped the towel and quickly started to roll down your sleeves.
But he was faster.
His calloused fingers felt rough against your skin in contrast to his gentle grip around your wrist. You felt electric pulses centering from where he was touching you, but the shame erupting from within you wouldn’t allow you to dwell on how right that felt.
Tears were already forming on your lashes as he studied the myriad of scars littering your arm from wrist to elbow. Some were larger or more jagged than others, but each one contained a story of your past; a hurt you inflicted upon yourself to cope with the hurt done to you by someone else.
“Don’t look like nothin’ to me.”
You had never heard him speak so softly and it made you feel that much worse. Daryl Dixon was anything but soft. For him to pity you must mean you were a real piece of work.
“Please,” you begged, your bottom lip quivering. You were barely holding yourself together. “Just…leave it.”
Those striking blue eyes left your arm to focus on your face. You quickly looked away, lest he see how pathetic you were. He released you and took a step back.
“Thanks for dinner, Y/N.”
You nodded and tried to smile, but never met his gaze before you heard the front door close. You sat on the kitchen floor and cried for hours, finally dragging yourself to the couch a few hours before you’d have to be up for the start of another day.
Months passed by and things changed, as they often did. You started to find Daryl sitting on your porch steps, cleaning his crossbow or tinkering with some motorcycle part. Most days, you just offered him a greeting and went on your way. Some days, when you were feeling brave or especially curious, you would ask about his weapon. His replies were always short and gruff but never rude or angry.
Eventually, this became the norm. You started bringing him water or lemonade, sitting with him while you drank your tea. Conversations were never lengthy but enough to ensure any silence was comfortable. You started to miss him when he was gone for runs or recruiting. Then you’d open your door one morning to find him perched in what you had long ago deemed ‘his spot’ and the smile that would grace your features was unbidden yet genuine.
One warm summer evening, while you sat together on the top step, your head was laid against his shoulder while his arm was draped around yours. The first time you had tried to lean on him, he had flinched so hard that he had dropped the water glass and you had apologized profusely while cleaning up the mess. At some later point, you both had started dropping your walls, bit by bit, and now here you were.
Still, even with the contentment you found in each other's company, something lingered.
“Daryl?”
“Hmm?”
You could feel him move and knew he was looking down toward where your temple rested against the front of his shoulder. “I’d like to tell you about it now,” you paused for a breath, “if you still want to know.” You waited for him to ask what you were talking about but, as he tended to do, the archer surprised you.
“Ya can tell me if ya wanna talk ‘bout it. Ya don’t hafta though.”
You smiled to yourself but it faded just as quickly. “I did it to myself.” You took another deep breath before continuing, keeping your eyes on the stars in the distant sky. “My life was hard even before the end of the world. I couldn’t cope with the things that happened to me…that were done to me… so I’d find something sharp—” you heard and felt his breath hitch but you couldn’t stop now. “I’d use anything at first. Anything that could make a cut. Eventually I started using a razor blade.” You just let the words tumble out, feeling a tear slide down your cheek. You hadn’t even realized you were crying. “Everything just hurt so bad and it was the only way I could handle it all. It was the only thing that kept the pain at bay. I know it doesn’t make sense but I just… I needed…”
You felt Daryl shift and quickly found yourself pressed against his chest, his arm around your back while his other hand pressed against the back of your head. He had hugged you before but this? This was different. He didn’t say anything but you already knew that he wasn’t good with words, especially when it came to expressing emotion. So he was offering you this comfort.
And you accepted it without a second thought, crying hard while your hands fisted the material of his leather vest. The more you trembled, the tighter he held you. It was as if he was trying to keep you from shaking apart but somehow you knew that even if you did, he would pick up the pieces and put you together again.
After a long while, your tears had all but stopped, leaving you a sniffling, tired mess in his arms. He didn’t seem to care but had loosened his hold slightly and was rubbing small circles over your back while you collected yourself.
Now came the shame. “I’m sorry.” You managed quickly while you pulled away from him. His hands hovered for a moment like you would fall apart again any moment but he soon let them fall onto his knees.
“What for?”
You could see him trying to catch your gaze from the corner of your eye as you wiped angrily at your face. “I know what I did was stupid.”
“It weren’t stupid, Y/N.” Daryl said softly. You remembered when he had used that same softness when he had first seen the proof of your self mutilation. You nodded but didn’t say anything for a while. Eventually, you went back to staring at the stars, even though you could feel him still staring at you.
“I don’t hate them, you know.” You finally said. With a sigh, you braved a glance at him. He was still watching you, expression unreadable but not hard. “My scars.” Daryl nodded for you to continue. “I had a lot of battles and they are proof of that but… I won.” You looked away and shrugged with a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “I’m still here.”
“M’glad.” He replied quickly, drawing your gaze back to him. “That you’re still here.”
You smiled again. It was small but this time, it was genuine. “Me too.” You watched each other for a few moments and you couldn’t help but notice him draw his bottom lip in between his teeth to gnaw at it. As you opened your mouth to ask if he was okay, he pushed himself off the step to stand.
“C’mon.” Daryl jerked his head toward your front door. Your brow knitted in confusion but you stood and crossed the small distance to the door.
“Daryl?”
“I wanna show ya somethin’.” He answered when his name had barely left your lips. Daryl reached in front of you to pull open the screen door and motioned for you to enter first. You could hear the deep, steadying breath he took as he followed you inside and began closing your door. “Ya trusted me with yours. I wanna trust ya with mine.”
#murda writes#daryl dixon fanfic#daryl dixon fanfiction#daryl dixon#daryl dixon x reader#the walking dead#daryl dixon x y/n#daryl dixon x you#the walking dead daryl dixon#Spotify
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Kill Bill | Tate Langdon
Summary: Tate randomly breaks up with you, moving on with Violet. It sucks, because you’re a ghost too, stuck in the house forever with a broken heart. But luckily there is a way out. Or is there? (Loosely based on the song “Kill Bill” by SZA.)
Word count: 1.6k
Part two: here
Warnings: Angst, mentions of death & suic*de, not proofread and probably more (sorry!)
Author’s Note: I’m obsessed with SZA’s new album and I’ve been wanting to write for Tate for a while, and so what better way than to write some angst? Anyways, please leave feedback! <3
You frown as you stared at the new couple— Tate and Violet— from the window, holding hands as you heard their muffled laughter. Tate was holding a candy bucket, they just got back from trick-or-treating.
That was supposed to be your guys’ thing, not their thing. It was the one day you could leave this shit hole— Tate promised he would take you trick-or-treating after you confessed to him you’ve never been.
Tate broke up with you not too long ago after dating for 11 months and 13 days. You guys couldn’t even make it to your one year anniversary. You guys would’ve, if it wasn’t for him.
It started with him acting distant, making up excuses and running away from you. Then after two weeks of not seeing or hearing anything from him, he dumps you. He shrugged it off as if it were nothing, as if he didn’t convince you to take your own life and spend the rest of eternity with him.
And now he had a new girlfriend— Violet Harmon. Her family had moved in a little bit ago, Violet immediately catching Tate’s attention.
It’s funny how the same thing happened with you. You wondered if it was a endless cycle, you wondered if the same thing would happen to her.
You hadn’t officially met her yet— deciding to stay in the shadows, she seemed sweet, but you just couldn’t help but hate her.
The couple made their way inside the house, the steps becoming closer and closer. You froze, becoming unseen.
“You know what we should watch?” You heard him ask Violet, the both of them stepping into her room before closing the door.
You came closer to the door, placing your ear against it to hear their conversation.
“Tate, I’m gonna gain like 10 pounds if I eat all this.” Violet said, giggling.
“Well, if I eat this half you’ll only gain 5.” He offered, slight amusement in his voice. He leaned forward, capturing her lips.
You back away from the door, hearing all that smooching and how they were definitely making out made you sick to your stomach.
You run to the nearest bathroom, puking.
-
“My dad’s not here.” You heard a voice from behind you, startling you.
It wasn’t just a voice, it was her voice.
You hesitantly turn around, facing Violet. She looked at you expectantly, eyes squinted. You shrunk under her gaze, breaking eye contact.
“H-he’s not?” You asked.
“No. He’s not. I can leave a message for hi—“
“No! I mean— uhm— no. It’s okay, I’ll have my mom call him or something.” You say, finally looking up at her.
“Who let you in anyways.”
“Moi— the maid. Or housekeeper— whatever you call her. She let me in.” You spoke, biting the inside of your cheek.
“Oh.” She mumbled, looking around. You look away, trying to think of a way to get out of there. You could just simply disappear— you were a ghost— but you didn’t want to expose yourself.
You weren’t a patient of her Dad’s, but after snooping around you found out that Tate was. You didn’t think anyone was home, trying to take a peek at his file. Too bad little miss perfect caught you, huh?
“So, what are you seeing my dad for?” She asks, causing you to look back at her. You open your mouth, a response on the tip of your tongue before it dies away, the hickey on her neck becoming your new focus point. Your face falls.
She furrows her eyebrows, placing her hand on her hip. “Uhm… are yo—“
“Tate. He’s the one who gave you that hickey, right?” You blurt, your eyes flickering back to hers.
As if her eyebrows can furrow any further, they do, her hand quickly coming up to cover the hickey.
You scowl, her suddenly becoming the one who couldn’t keep eye contact. “H-how— wha—“
“Be careful around him, or you’re just gonna become one of his victims.” You snark, storming off before disappearing.
You didn’t mean to lash out, you just couldn’t help if. It wasn’t fair. How come he gets to move on? How come he gets to leave you in the dust? How come you’re stuck in this house for eternity, your heart shattering every time you saw or heard of him. You couldn’t even remember the last time he spared you a glance.
Fucking bastard.
And how badly you wanted to kill him and his new girlfriend. Too bad he’s already dead and if you kill her, you’ll be doing him a favor.
-
When you’re a ghost stuck in a house for eternity, there’s really nothing to do. You’ve read every single book in this house at least a hundred times, visited every part of this house at least a million times, and probably more.
Tate never let you talk to the other ghosts, mainly Chad and Patrick.
Since you’re a ghost stuck in a house for eternity, struggling to get over your ex boyfriend, you needed advice.
“Oh honey, you’re barking up the wrong tree.” Chad announced, eyeing you up and down as you entered the room. Patrick turned, scoffing. “What you want?”
“I need…” You cringed at yourself, before shaking your head. “Never mind, sorry.” You spin around, getting ready to leave before they stopped you.
“Come on, we don’t bite. You obviously came here for something, your boyfriend trying to plot some revenge or someth—“ Chad started.
“No— we actually broke up. That’s what I came here for. He’s dating that uh, new girl.” You interrupt, head low.
They both stay silent, sharing a knowing look before staring back at you. “Violet? Jesus— she’s a pain in my ass. She’s so loud at night, I’m surprised her parents haven’t said anything. She sounds like a dying cat when she moans.” They both laugh.
You flinch, you’ve heard her moaning too. That’s why you stayed in the basement at night.
“Uhr— yeah. I know you guys don’t like Tat—“
“We don’t like both of them, hun.”
“Okay, both of them, but I need your guys’ help. Look, I know we may have had our differences and stuff… but I’m desperate.” You beg, looking between them.
You watch as Chad raises an eyebrow, Patrick pressing his lips inti a straight line before motioning for you to come over. “Fine, but you’re gonna owe us.”
-
You hum a soft tone, rubbing your eyes as you made your way down to the basement. You round the corner, eyes almost bulging out of your head as you spot the blond mop of curls by your makeshift bed.
“What are you doing?” You ask harshly, rubbing the last bit of sleep from your eyes before staring at him.
“Have you been sleeping down here?” Tate asks softly, ignoring your question.
“What are you doing here?” You repeat yourself, taking a sharp inhale as he finally turned around.
“What are you doing with that gay couple? I told you to stay away from them Y/N, they’re not safe.” He says, taking a step towards you. You take one back, shaking your head.
“They’re nice actually. You know they have names, right? Chad and Patrick.” You snark, staring up at him.
“I don’t care. Stay away from them— Violet too. You spooked her.”
“‘Spooked her’? I was just telling her the truth.” You say.
He sighs, rubbing his temples. “Just— don’t ruin this for me. Kay?”
“What? I’m not gonna ruin your stupid fucking relationship, Tate. Go be happy with her, I don’t care. I’ll leave your girlfriend alone, okay? Now can you go? I’ve had a long night.” You sigh, giving up as your shoulders drop.
You push past him, making your way to your bed.
“Why are you so jealous? She makes m—“ He starts.
“I’m not jealous!” You shout, eyebrows furrowing. “You wanna know why I was talking to Chad and Patrick? Because we’re planning to dig up my bones and bury me in some graveyard. Just far away from you. So, now you and your girlfriend can be happy! I’ll most definitely leave the two of you alone.” You finally admit.
You almost wish you didn’t say that when you looked up, seeing the pained expression on his face. “Wha— how do you even know about that?!”
“Moira.” You mumble, shifting your weight onto one foot.
“Moira? God damnit— look, Y/N, you c-can’t leave. I won’t let you!” He announced sadly, eyes glistening in light from the window above.
You clench your fists, anger bubbling up inside you. “I’m stuck here for eternity! Tate— this is like hell for me! You have no right to choose this choice for me.”
“Hell? You think it’s hell here?” He practically whimpered, frowning.
You stay quiet for a few moments, sitting on the edge of your makeshift bed. “Yes. I’m leaving, wether you like or not. Can you leave me alone now?”
It feels like the wind just got knocked out of him, dropping to his knees as he wraps his arms tightly around your legs. “You can’t— please. I’m sorry, please don’t leave me. You’re a-all I have. I love you, I love you so much—“ He begged, tears flooding his cheeks as his grip on your legs got impossibly tighter.
“Please don’t leave me. If Violet’s the problem I can get rid of her! Her family too— I can get rid of anyone or anything that’s the problem, okay? If I’m problem I can leave you alone! You’ll never see me again— please, I promise, i p—“
“Go away, Tate.” You say softly, wiping your eyes before any tears could start. He stops, eyes widening as he looks up at you in tears. “NO! What? No! Please!”
You look away, not having the strength to look at him. “Go away.”
And he listened.
#tate langdon imagine#tate langdon x reader#tate langdon#ahs#ahs murder house#violet harmon#tate langdon angst#tate langdon ahs#evan peters#evan peters x reader#angst#fanfiction#imagine
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prompting my own gomens tickle content im so desperate—crowley is bothering aziraphale for attention (maybe while aziraphale is trying to read or bake or organize or something) until my man is thrown into the bookshop couch and tickled to pieces for being such an annoying little shit. discuss. (ideally this is a recurring event because we know crowley wants attention no matter how he gets it) -🍓, n
happy holidays!! hope you like it <33
-
Aziraphale took a slow, deep breath. In and out.
“Was that really necessary?”
Crowley snickered behind him, “What, I thought you liked when it snows?”
Aziraphale huffed, brushing off the flour Crowley had sprinkled onto his shoulders. He refused to turn and look at him, because right now he did not need that mischievous demon to see the smile he was fighting off.
“Well, I prefer when the snow is actually snow. Like on a perfect Christmas day!” He glanced over his shoulder with a cheeky side-eye, “You’re making a mess of my best garments.”
Crowley snorted, “Best garments my arse, you’ve had that one for, what, 100-somethin’ years now? You ask me, it’s about time you get a new wardrobe.”
Aziraphale decided against responding, instead going back to kneading his dough. It was silent only for a moment before he heard Crowley suck his teeth.
“You’re boring. Dreadfully boring. The hell do you expect me to do, wait for bread to rise that I won’t even eat? Like watching paint dry…” He heard pacing footsteps behind him now.
“You don’t have to stay. I’m just trying to keep busy, you’re the one who decided today was the perfect one for a rainstorm-“
“Because I thought it’d give us some ffffuckin’… some alone time, angel,” Crowley mumbled in slight embarrassment and frustration, leaning against the wall and staring daggers into Aziraphale’s back. “Didn’t realize you hated spending time with me so much…”
Aziraphale couldn’t hold back a fond chuckle at his pouty demon, molding his dough to perfection. “Is that not what we’re doing right now? Spending time with one another?” He loved making Crowley work for it sometimes, especially when Crowley’s been so (endearingly) annoying.
Crowley grumbled, but Aziraphale felt arms wrap around his waist only moments later, a head resting on his shoulder. “Not the way I wanted, though.”
“Must you always get your way?”
Crowley chuckled, giving a kiss to Aziraphale’s ear and whispering, “My way’s the more fun one and you know it.”
Aziraphale flushed, but otherwise gave no reaction. He continued to knead, and felt a bit flustered at how intently Crowley watched his hands work.
He felt hot air against his ear once more, “You’re very good at that, angel,” Crowley hummed, kissing behind his ear, “Got such a way with your hands.”
Aziraphale tucked his lips in, his hands slowing, “You’re distracting me, Crowley. Quit.”
Crowley chuckled darkly, “Whaaaat, I’m just observing!”
“Yes, well, you’re very talkative for someone who’s ‘just observing,’” Aziraphale was ready to let his dough rest when he felt the arms at his waist squeeze tighter.
“Can’t help myself. You’re a bit easy to tease,” Crowley snickered, biting at the lobe. Aziraphale gasped softly, fingers nearly pinching at the dough. It tickled, and Crowley wouldn’t stop even when Aziraphale started squirming away and huffing. The demon knew he was tickling, even blowing air into the ear to make Aziraphale squeak, before finally the angel-
“Okay, I think I’ve had enough,” he said through a breathy giggle.
“Enough of what? M’not doing anything,” Crowley pinched Aziraphale’s sides, purposefully tickling him now. Aziraphale couldn’t help but yip at the tickle, how frustratingly embarrassing, and finally he snapped.
Aziraphale whipped around, grabbing his leather collar and pushing Crowley’s chest towards the door, leading him back towards the living room.
The demon’s eyes were wide,“Gotten impatient, have you? Someone can’t handle a little—oh-!” Crowley yelped as he stumbled backwards, “Ohohoh, excited are we?”
Aziraphale wore a smug grin as he used more force to push Crowley against the couch, “You’re very persistent.”
“I try,” Crowley gleamed, leaning his smug head back against his hands, “I mean it worked, right?”
Aziraphale just hummed, crawling on Crowley’s waist with his intentions seeming obvious. The demon chuckled, prideful over another successful temptation. He pressed his hands into Aziraphale’s thighs, smoothing the pants with his palms.
Aziraphale gently took Crowley’s wrists, bringing them above Crowley’s head and meeting their faces in the middle. “Oh, it’s that kinda night, is it?” Crowley mumbled against Aziraphale’s lips. He felt the weight lift off his wrists, but since it seemed his angel was taking a more, mhm, controlling role tonight, he kept his hands where they were.
Aziraphale said nothing in return, if only humming in affirmation. After all, he was a little busy making sure his hands tracked down the demon's body to that verrrry specific spot on his lower ribs. And Crowley remained none the wiser, still caught in trying to keep his hands up and off Aziraphale (which was agonizingly hard, how he’d love to stroke his soft cheek with his thumb, or scratch along his back, or maybe even keep up his cheeky streak and tickle his—)
“GahK-“ Crowley choked, nearly biting Aziraphale in the lip. He jerked, pinned under Aziraphale’s weight as he felt fingers pinching into his fucking ribs, that sneaky little- “Wahait angel!”
“None of that. You were being particularly annoying just moments ago,” Aziraphale tutted with a smile, fighting to keep his fingers under those ribs as Crowley wriggled and squirmed and laughed. “I shouldn’t be rewarding such pestering behavior, now should I?”
“Yohou cuhunt-!,” Crowley cackled, his hands pushing and slapping weakly against Aziraphale’s, which had now moved to squeezing against his very ticklish belly. “Ahaha-! Hahaha nohoho!”r
“You aren’t helping your case any, Crowley~,” Aziraphale sing-songed, poking his fingers up and down Crowley’s sensitive torso, which made him squirm like a giggly worm on a hook, his hands mainly just gripping onto Aziraphale’s sleeves at this point for something to hold onto. Aziraphale smiled down at his giggling frame fondly, “What would help you, however, is. a proper apology.”
Crowley scoffed through his giggles (it came out more like a choke but thankfully Aziraphale didn’t tease him about it), shaking his head from side to side. “Make me-ehehee!”
“Oh now you’re asking for it,” Aziraphale took Crowley’s batting hands with relative ease and hid them under his knees, pinning him down fully. Crowley felt a zing through his chest, digging his heels into the couch despite no longer being tickled just because he needed something, anything to put his anxious (excited) energy toward.
“Hhhmmmmhh,” Crowley hummed through a nervous giggle, refusing to look Aziraphale in the eyes. Hopefully his lips don’t bleed from how hard he was biting them.
Aziraphale looked so smug above him, cheeky grin and all. “Say you’re sorry. I won’t even make you do the dance.”
Crowley chuckled in his throat, “Not happenin’.”
“Isn’t it?”
“Nope,” Crowley popped.
“I think you will.”
“And why’s that?”
“Because I happen to know…” Aziraphale placed soft fingertips against the skin where Crowley’s shirt rode up, his lower belly quivering at the gentle touch. Crowley’s face scrunched hard, and Aziraphale only smiled harder, “…that being gentle with you makes for a most delicious torture.”
Crowley stood no chance holding back his whine. “You’re being mean, angel. I don’t even know what I should be ap-ahha—apohohologizing—wahahait, wait just gimme a secohohond—!”
Aziraphale had just barely grazed his nails against the soft skin, back and forth against that pant line and, and, and—God, how did you make an angel this demonic?!
“Such a sensitive demon,” back and forth, a single-finger scribble inside that awful hip pocket, and Crowley tittered as he felt his face heat to an unreasonable degree. “So, are we going to keep name calling, Crowley?”
Aziraphale brought both hands into his evil equation, fluttering against his hips with a gentle ferocity that sent Crowley into a horribly embarrassing giggle fit. He kicked against the arm of the couch, his body too long and his nerves far too alight to keep still.
“Angel plehehease.” Oh how he hated that word. Aziraphale hummed, his laughter sounded so pretty when it was laced with those desperate giggles.
“Please…?” He gave a quick pinch to those hips, a flustered cackle escaping Crowley’s chest before bringing his fingers up to barely flutter against Crowley’s lower ribs. Fuck Aziraphale for knowing him so well.
“Nonononohohohoho you bihihitch!” Crowley squirmed and shook, hair a tousled mess and cheeks dusted a pretty pink in his delighted embarrassment.
Aziraphale sighed dramatically, pinching the ribs, “Oh well…” except this time the pinches didn’t stop, gentle and precise as they plucked against each and every rib. Crowley couldn’t stop the cackles and giggles and snorts and whines and fuck…maybe this was worth all the fuss it took to get here.
Crowley laughed and laughed, spewing curses here and there as his ribs were plucked and poked, his belly scribbled, curse his fucking waistline for being so damn sensitive—
“Ahahangel-! I—fuhuhuhuck!—I cahahant!” Crowley pulled at his hand, those fingers poking delicately along his waist and around towards his back making words very hard right now.
“A break, love?” Aziraphale asked so sweetly as if he wasn’t breaking Crowley down bit by bit, one sensitive nerve ending at a time.
“Yes-!” Crowley squeaked as Aziraphale pinched his sides just to be cruel. But of course, Aziraphale pulled away, giving his belly a warm rub that only an angel could make feel so good.
Aziraphale kissed his cheek tenderly. Crowley scrunched his neck instinctively. “You’re lucky you’re cute, Crowley,” he whispered in his ear like Crowley had done just a bit ago to him. Crowley was still giggling at the slight contact, twitchy and unsure if it was over for good or if this was really just a break. Maybe a really short one with how long Aziraphale’s been lingering at his devastingly ticklish ears.
“A-Angel, the ears” He squirmed his head, shoulders as scrunched as they could go with his hands pinned by his sides.
“Mmm, yes I’m aware. I did say a break, no?”
“Ffffuck you’ll kill me there,” Crowley said, a breath away from another giggle fit.
“What an unusually adorable death for a demon of your stature,” Aziraphale teased. He kissed the sensitive ear, unable to hold back a chuckle at Crowley’s squeak. He kissed again, and again, light as he dragged his soft lips against the shell, relishing in Crowley’s growing giggles.
“Oh fuhuhuck.”
“So incessant with the cursing. It’s almost like you want me to keep going.”
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i don’t know how much longer i can go on without reading a very detailed description of billy and stu oiled up sharpy :(
I was about to write a silly paragraph of oiled boys but then i remembered this degenerate wip of a beach episode which starts with a sweaty hookup so here, smutty oiled boys under the cut:
(ps. I do intent to finish this ficlet at some point, i just dk when)
August 16th, 1996
He’s covered in sweat.
His own and now increasingly Stu’s, rolling in drops down their chests and mixing where their stomachs press together. Stu’s skin is hot to the touch, slick as his bare thighs slide over Billy’s. He’s wearing those stupid, short little shorts, and Billy’s hands are sliding up under the hem to grab his ass.
August has been sweltering. It’s the kind of heat that makes the air feel heavy, collecting on your skin unless you’re inside with the windows closed and the AC on full blast. And they haven’t even had that, not with the brown-out that started yesterday.
Stu’s place is one of a few that still has power, turns out he’s just far enough out of town to be on a different grid. He’s always lucky like that, isn’t he? So now Randy, Tatum, and Sid are here, laying around in the living room watching movies at a reasonable temperature. Not him though, and not Stu. They were five minutes ago, but the moment Stu came back inside after driving to pick up the girls Billy lost his mind a little. He’s been doing that a lot lately.
It’s the way he fucking smells. He thinks he should probably hate it, it’s an unapologetically masculine scent, just deodorant and sweat but fuck he really doesn’t hate it. He could smell him through Tatum’s cloying perfume and Sid’s shampoo, and Randy’s aftershave, and it made his stupid mouth water. So like… 20 minutes into the movie he made an excuse about needing to go make a call to his dad and Stu followed with an excuse about needing to put food out for the stray cat that likes to crawl in through the doggy door in the garage. Because Stu knows better, of course he does.
So for some reason they’ve decided to cram themselves into the garage crawl space they used to play in as kids, which is also the only part of the house that isn’t temperature controlled. The result is that they’re both dripping sweat, t-shirts discarded immediately with the rest of their clothes soon to follow if he has anything to say about it.
“Ah, yeah-” Stu’s moaning, rocking his hips down, hard and tenting his evil little shorts, and Billy’s clapping a hand over his mouth.
“Shut the fuck up, they’ll hear you-” He’s hissing this under his breath but it might be undermined by the fact that he’s also grinding up against Stu’s ass.
“You don’t want them to join us?” Stu’s eyes are flashing as he grinds into Billy’s palm. Jesus christ-
“What? Fuck no-” He’s grimacing, blood rushing to his face even though he knows Stu’s just talking shit, grinning like an absolute ass.
“Aww, so you just want some alone time with me-” Stu’s starting to look way too smug.
“No, I wanna get my dick sucked.” Billy sneers, shoving him to the side and rolling them over to get on top.
“By me,” Stu doesn’t look any less smug as his back hits the floor.
“Well I don’t fucking want Randy to do it.” He snaps, thumping a fist into his chest.
“But you didn’t even consider your girlfriend.” Cocky little shithead. He could just remind him that Sid is fucking frigid but he thinks he can do better.
“Why would I when I’ve already got you trained?” He’s aiming for aloof but he can acknowledge that his voice is a little too rough, and Stu’s eyes go hooded.
“Well fuck,” He groans, too loud as Billy starts to rock his hips. “Oh- okay, yeah, I’ll do my trick, now gimme my treat,” He’s sticking his tongue out and it’s a stupid fucking line but Billy’s inhaling and Stu is everywhere, and it’s making him dumb.
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Hi, I need some help if anyone has advice or something. Or even just a “that’s rough buddy”
Last night I had one of the worst breakdowns I’ve had in a long time bc I saw a commission of my abuser with stsc. She commissions artists just about every single day of herself with TF characters, so I always avoid the tumblr search tags. Even non-TF artists I feel wary of bc it doesn’t matter, if you’re an artist and your comms are open, she will buy from you and it’s always her self insert/OC. I never look up self shipping or transformers or anything like that in the tumblr search. I never interact with anything she’s a part of. But this time I was simply searching up something entirely unrelated in a browser, and she just - she showed up. She fucking showed up! All of this time I take to be so careful, to limit my tumblr experience drastically just to protect myself, and yet I still see her. I cannot believe how easy it is to find my abuser floating around online because she commissions people every single day. I wasn’t even on tumblr and I still managed to see her. It was just… Google images. No keywords that could have possibly led to me seeing that, but she showed up as one of the first results in the images and I just. had the worst reaction ever. Understandably
It was her pink OC, and very long story I won’t bother you with, my abuser’s pink OC is the reason why the color pink became a cptsd trigger for me in 2022, and I was really struggling with that shit when it was fresh. Obviously I got better with it because uh, I’m a Barbie blog now, but I still have my bad days with it and I’ve never been fully okay with pink. I never feel fully “safe” around it. Which sucks. But I was at the point where I could tolerate it. Well, until now 😭 ugh
Seeing my abuser was already a big shock, obviously horrible. Seeing my abuser be lovey and soft with stsc was also really horrible. But seeing the pink and immediately my brain saying “oh look it’s pink, that’s dangerous, but maybe it’s Barbie pi— ohhh nooo, that’s your abuser, she’s right there!!! That’s her!!! In the pink!!! I told you pink was a trigger!!! You’re in danger now you’re gonna die!!!” makes me feel like I’ve gone backwards in my healing process and I’m afraid that’s irreversible. I know healing isn’t linear and I know setbacks are normal, but this feels different. It was Barbie pink, like the hot magenta color you see on the album cover? I feel sick typing this jfc. My abuser is now associated with Barbie pink in my brain. I don’t know how to fix this. It used to be more of a milky pink that would bother me bc THAT is what her OC color used to be, but now apparently she’s? Barbie pink???? And a paranoid part of me believes she might have changed it on purpose just to fuck with me because she knows I see her commissions everywhere I go, because one of our last conversations we ever had was her saying she was fully aware how much her own s/i was a trigger for me. This is so much worse bc now every time I see Barbie Pink I’m not gonna think of Barbie! I’m thinking of the person who nearly fucking killed me multiple times!
I was doing soo much better with my pink trigger. I associated pink with how safe and loved Barbie and Ken make me feel. The hot magenta Barbie Pink made me feel the safest because that’s LITERALLY Barbie pink. I would still get tense seeing it but then I’d immediately say to myself “that’s Barbie pink. That’s Barbies color. Barbie would never let my abuser come near me, because she’s a girls girl, and she’s smart, she would not allow herself to be manipulated, she’d keep me safe” etc etc. and I would almost immediately be totally fine with looking at the color, my tense feeling would melt away most of the time. i was doing so much better but now it’s like this is ruining all of my progress. My abuser’s main color now is Barbie pink and I feel really sick.
I’m extremely shaken up over not just seeing my abuser again, in a commission no less (which she’d often use against me, so seeing TF commissions of any sort give me bad reactions, hence why I don’t even look at TF fanart whatsoever even if I wasn’t triggered by the actual franchise) but also seeing the very Thing that turned pink into a trigger in the first place. I feel very hopeless bc I miss stsc but seeing him be romantic in a commission with my abuser, on top of the trauma associated with him just in general because of said abuser, makes me feel so impossible to reach him. So not only do I feel hopeless and miss my starlight so fucking badly, as I do everyday, but now I feel worse with the color pink. I don’t want this to ruin Barbie for me. I don’t want to be scared of the very thing that was helping me heal this far.
I don’t know how to fix this. I’m hoping I will eventually bounce back from this major trigger of seeing my abuser AND tf together, like this was a triple hit on me, had three major triggers in one image — I’m just hoping I’ll… move on?? And then maybe pink will go back to being tolerable again? But I’m scared it won’t. I’m scared I really cannot heal no matter what I try to do
Anyway idk what kind of advice I’m even asking for, maybe reassurance that it’s gonna be ok. Or something 😔 literally anything helps I don’t care WHAT it is, if anyone can spare something nice in my inbox or the replies, I will super appreciate it
#vent#ptsd#ok so. actually I’ve queued this post and I’m not online rn . i am hopefully asleep#but when I wake up I will read and appreciate any messages 😭
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End of the World
Sam x Bucky | 2.1K Words| Rated E
In response to this: Does anyone have any good fic recs for Sam and Bucky hooking up for the first time right before the battle in Wakanda? Really in the mood for some 'we might die, so I'm gonna shoot my shot with the guy i've been pining after forever' SamBucky vibes.
@staying-elive this is for you. Hope it’s okay x
The man was insufferable, Sam thought as he and Steve’s friend, James Bucky Barnes, sat in the car and waited. Lord was he insufferable. Not Steve, he was tolerable. His friend, Bucky, was insufferable. Sure, he’d been through a lot, and Sam could understand that, but he was beginning to be a pain in Sam’s ass (and not in a good, sexy kinda way). They didn’t know one another, but they were grown ass men and could be civil, right? Yeah, well, tell that to the bionic staring machine.
“Can you move your seat up?”
Bitch, can you slide your beefy ass across to the other side of this car and quit bothering me? Is what Sam wanted to say, but a simple no would suffice.
Sam didn’t ask for him to have Sam’s six while they handled business. Sam wasn’t new to this superhero shit, thank you very much. It wasn’t his first rodeo, so to speak. He may not be super-fucking-powered, but he could handle his own. After all, he had gone up against the Winter Soldier and lived to talk about it. Still, Bucky stayed close.
Maybe he was doing Steve a solid by being there with Sam. By running slowly to keep pace with Sam. By jumping in front of the Spider-Kid to soften the blow to Sam’s body. And that was – okay Sam could admit, that was nice. Then he had to go and ruin it all by opening his mouth and talking shit.
Why are the fine ones always this annoying? Sam asked himself before lying and saying, “I hate you.”
Sam did not hate James Bucky Barnes. No, he did not. He kinda hated himself for flushing warm when Bucky stared at him too long, dragging his gaze from Sam’s eyes to his lips, and back again. Yeah, he kinda hated himself when, in quiet moments, he wondered what it would be like to have all of that super strength levelled at him in a different way. Where he would lift Sam from the floor and pin him to a wall – or toss him down on one of the shitty motel beds – or manhandle him while sinking himself deep inside of Sam. Yeah, Sam kinda hated himself for the thoughts he had about Bucky in the shower, when he had to bite back sounds so his friends wouldn’t hear as he coated the tiled wall with his release. Yeah, Sam kinda hated himself for being attracted to Steve’s annoying, old ass friend.
Why the hell was the former Winter Soldier still lying there covered in Spider-Kid gunk when he could just break through it? Why was he taking his sweet damn time to get up and help Sam out? Finally, he got to his feet, and went to Sam.
“Well, you’re welcome, by the way,” said Bucky as he stared down at an incapacitated Sam.
“What? For what?” asked Sam as he struggled to get lose.
“For me takin’ the brunt of that Spiderling’s hit for you,” said Bucky, as he knelt down.
“Didn’t ask you to.”
“Didn’t need to.”
“Man, stop fuckin’ around and get me outta this,” said Sam, gesturing to the substance that had him in a bind.
“Y’know, you’re kinda pretty like this,” said Bucky, with a crooked smile. “All tied up.”
Oh?
Oh.
“Quit playin’ and get me outta this.”
“You should ask me nicely,” said James Bucky Barnes because he was an asshole and liked fucking with Sam.
“You should suck my dick.”
Bucky’s eyebrow shot up before he said, “Mmm, tempting.”
“Fuck you,” said Sam, struggling a little more.
Bucky had the audacity to stare into Sam’s eyes, lick his stupidly pink lips, and say, “You offerin’, sweetheart?”
Sam didn’t know if it was the adrenaline coursing through his body, or the fact that Bucky’s voice had dropped an octave and his eyes were steely and piercing, but Sam was struck by a sudden flush of lust. He thought about it for a moment, seeing that there was a seriousness to Bucky’s reply. They were on their own, away from the battle. Sam hadn’t gotten his dick wet in ages. What was a couple of blow-jobs between thrown-together team mates? This was sure to be the end of the Avengers, might as well go out with a bang, right?
Wrong.
Even though Sam was a thrill-seeker, even though he was sure that Bucky would fuck like he fought, hot as shit and very dangerous, he knew they had a job to do. Even if hate-sex with Bucky would probably be the best of his life. Sam looked up at the other man, scoffed, and said, “Please. The only way we’d be fucking is if the world was ending.”
Bucky let out an amused little laugh, began to help Sam out of his binds, and said, “Noted.”
xXxXx
The past couple of years on the run were hectic, to say the least. Moving from one place to the next, living off shitty food in shittier accommodations had Sam missing home. Rhodey had been good at keeping him updated on Sarah and the boys, making sure that they were okay. Making him feel less shitty about being away from them. His family was part of the world, and saving the world meant saving them, so Sam found himself piloting the jet to Wakanda to help a friend.
He knew a friend of a friend was there. Had been there for a while now. He wasn’t sure is said friend of a friend, James Bucky Barnes, was out of the freezer. If he was doing alright. If he was healing. When they touched down, Sam had to hold back a smile when he saw Steve’s friend. He looked good, Sam could admit that. Sam watched the two best friends embraced and he felt a little nostalgic for home. And despite the sombre mood, Bucky was smiling. It was nice.
It was nice right up until he looked Sam dead in the eyes as he answered Steve’s question with, “Pretty good – for the end of the world.”
So, he remembered, then? Or maybe it was a blanket statement? Whatever it was, it was doing something for Sam. All of those lonely nights on the run were made a little warmer by thoughts of what it would feel like to be with Bucky Barnes. But Sam had probably missed his chance. They were gearing up for war.
…..
“Hiding away from everyone, uh?” came a voice behind Sam as he leaned against one of the walls of the Royal Palace Gardens.
It was Bucky. Sam rolled his eyes.
“I’m not a coward, Barnes,” said Sam dryly. “If that’s what you’re tryna say.”
“What? No, of course not,” said Bucky, sounding earnest. “That’s not what I meant at all. I read your file. You’re the bravest of us all.”
“Oh, okay,” said Sam, glancing sideways at the other man. “I’m just no help in there, with all the science stuff and strategy. I see someone who needs help, and I’m there. If there’s a fight that needs fighting, I’m there. Just needed to take a moment to myself. Try to call my sister. Figured this could be it. The end of the world.”
Bucky nodded his head knowingly.
“What’re you doin’ out here?” Sam added.
“Same as you,” Bucky replied. “Sorta. I got no family to call, but I needed a moment, too, since the world is ending.”
Sam nodded his head and took a discreet breath.
“Plus, I figured I’d take you up on your offer.”
Sam raised an eyebrow and looked at Bucky.
“What offer?” he asked, feigning ignorance or amnesia.
Bucky tucked his hair behind his ear and said, “Back in Germany. How you and me would fuck if the world was ending.”
“Right,” was all Sam could say as he swallowed hard.
“Figured we got a little time before the fight starts,” said Bucky as he reached a hand over to trace the lines on Sam’s breastplate. “I’d really hate to die today and not know what it feels like to be with you, Sam.”
Sam looked down at where Bucky’s hand was, and then back up at his eyes.
“We’re not gonna die today,” he whispered, taking hold of Bucky’s hand.
“We might,” Bucky whispered in reply as he ran his thumb over Sam’s. “So, what d’ya say?”
xXxXx
A Wakandan Royal Palace broom closet. Sam was hooking up with the former Winter in a Wakandan Royal Palace broom closet at the end of the world. What was his life? He was drawn from his musing from the feeling of Bucky’s beard against his skin as Bucky sucked marks onto Sam’s neck while rubbing him through his tac gear.
Sam had hooked up with other soldiers before while he was deployed or on a mission. It was always fast, sweaty, and messy. He thought it would be the same with Bucky, but it wasn’t. Bucky did not smell of the desert and dried blood. He smelled of almond oil and soap. His lips were not brash and hurried, he was taking his time to kiss Sam; to savor Sam’s taste. His hand were not rough and hasty, he was touching Sam like he revered him. What would it be like if the world weren’t ending and they had more time? If they had a small bed and less clothing?
“I knew you’d taste so sweet,” Bucky whispered, his breath warm against Sam’s ear. “Knew it from the first time I saw you.”
He undid Sam’s fly and reached his hand inside the tac pants. Sam’s gasped as Bucky took hold of his dick and gave it a tug.
“You – fuck – you noticed me? Were thinkin’ about me back then?” asked Sam as his eyes closed.
Bucky continued to stroke him before kissing his lips once more and saying, “Yes. How could I not? You’re kinda fuckin’ gorgeous.”
Sam threaded his fingers through Bucky’s hair, holding him in place as he asked, “Just kinda, eh?”
Bucky twisted his wrist expertly and caused Sam to moan before he kissed the moan away, and then said, “Actually, not kinda but definitely.”
Bucky stroked Sam’s cock with more fervor and said, “Look at you, sweetheart. You’re beautiful.”
Sam brought their lips together in a crushing kiss. It grew desperate. Bucky pulled him closer. Sam reached for Bucky’s dick and released him from his constraints. Bucky almost growled at the sensation. He pushed Sam against the wall and crowded his space; Sam almost keened for him.
“Wanted you the first time I saw you,” said Bucky as he strummed their dicks together and lapped at Sam’s neck.
“You can have me,” said Sam as his legs grew weak. “Do whatever you like. I want you, too.”
…..
Sam’s head was swimming and his body was alight, but he was right. Bucky fucked like he fought: With focus and precision and strength; swathed in intensity and a little danger. He held Sam in place, Sam’s back to the wall and his legs wrapped around Bucky’s waist, and drove himself in and out of Sam’s tight heat.
Biting kisses moved across every exposed bit of Sam’s warm skin as Bucky fucked him within an inch of his life. He clung to Bucky as the older man took him apart. As Bucky impaled Sam while stroking his cock. As he kissed him and claimed him and made his toes curl. As Bucky whispered almost incoherently against Sam’s neck and ear and lips. All breathy moans and guttural groans.
And it was over too quickly, but it needed to be. The world was ending, and Sam’s felt like it was just now expanding. Opened, like Bucky had done when he slid himself inside of Sam. They each came with curses and each other’s names on their lips. Sated and breathless. Holding one another close as they came down from their respective highs.
Bucky found a clean cloth to wipe them both down before he and Sam stole glances at one another while they dressed. A slight awkwardness filled the small space as Sam found his goggles and put them on the top of his head.
“I should – ah – I should go out first,” he said as Bucky nodded his head. “You wait a minute or two then come out. Y’know, so no one sees us or whatever.”
“Right, of course,” said Bucky, as he picked up his gun that he had placed to the floor.
He stepped closer to Sam, cupped his face, and then pressed a soft, languid kiss to his lips.
“Be safe out there,” said Bucky as he backed away and let Sam leave.
Sam opened the door, looked back, and gave Bucky a sweet smile.
“You, too,” said Sam gently. “See you on the other side.”
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lucien flavius x reader
warnings: pwp, blowjobs, finger sucking, mild choking, jerking off, dom!reader, sub!lucien, orgasm denial, begging
author’s note: ive never sucked a dick before unfortunately so i apologize if this is written weird. as always feedback and requests are very welcome!! i still have a nagging feeling that there are some weird clunky sentences and mistakes and/or i overused some words too much even though ive read this over three times now and sent it to two different people to read so i also apologize about that. however one of those people was a lesbian and she said “the fact that it kept me interested is extremely impressive”
“Why don’t we work on your training, Lucien?” As much as you wished he’d let you train him on more than one thing a day, you had to admit at least the days seemed to fly past when you were with him.
He looks up from the enchanting table, his face lighting up. “Really? Oh, I’ve been looking forward to this. What shall we work on this time?”
“Well.” You smile wryly. “Don’t take this personally, but I was thinking we should build up your stamina.”
His face pales dramatically. “Oh dear. You’re going to make me exercise, aren’t you?”
“Come on, come on, outside. You want to be able to hold your own in a fight for longer, don’t you?”
He groans, dragging himself dramatically toward the door. “I suppose so.”
You roll your eyes and walk out to the sprawling, vibrant yard of Tundra Homestead. Despite his complaints, Lucien is close behind you, as always.
“We can start easy,” you say, fighting back laughter at the look of dread he’s giving you. “15 push-ups. Make sure you count them.”
“Easy?! You overestimate me.” Resentfully, he lowers himself to the ground in the most dignified way he can and begins his set of very undignified push-ups. You fold your arms and watch him amusedly.
“One… two… three… f-four…” His strained, breathy voice gives you butterflies — and not in your stomach. To make matters worse, Lucien lets out a soft, broken moan as he reaches the sixth push-up. You tighten your grip on your arms, trying with all your might not to react visibly (or audibly).
His body shakes as he struggles to raise himself up and down, breathing heavily. You imagine what he would look like, unclothed and trembling beneath you, completely at your mercy-
You clasp your hand over your mouth, horrified at your own thoughts. Holy shit, this is so bad, he’s just your traveling companion, he probably doesn’t even-
Your train of thought is interrupted by Lucien exhaling loudly and collapsing on the ground. He looks up at you with forlorn puppy eyes. “Can that please be it for today?”
You nod stiffly. “Uh- yep. That’s fine. I’m gonna- I- I’m gonna- I’ll be right back.” You turn around and practically stumble back into the house.
You sit down on the side of your bed and stare at the wall, mind and heart racing. The attraction itself wasn’t even that bad- it had always sort of been there, ever since your first meeting when you asked if he was flirting and he got all flustered. It was cute. He was cute. But now, he’s hot, which is a completely and vastly different beast to deal with. And really, it’s the implications of the attraction that have you so frazzled. Also, how did such a short and simple thing drive you so insane with lust? Where did all of this come from? What if you accidentally change the way you treat him and then he feels bad or he starts treating you differently back?
The wooden rapping of knuckles against wood breaks through the deafening silence. Lucien poked his head through the door nervously. “Is- is everything all right?”
Gods motherfucking damn it. “Yeah, it’s okay, Luce. I dunno.”
“Were my push-ups really that bad?” He asks, the slight lilt in his voice and his concerned smile clearing the cloud in your mind a bit. You chuckle.
“Can I come in?”
You nod and pat the bed next to you. He sits, his knees tilted in towards you. “Do you, er… want to talk about anything?”
“I want you,” you blurt out. Lucien stares at you, mouth open.
“I’m sorry,” you choke out, quickly standing up. “I shouldn’t have- oh my god, I’m so stupid, I’m sorry. You-”
You stop as he grabs your wrist, not pulling you back but not letting you leave either. “Do you mean, like-”
“Yes.”
He lets go of you, putting his fingertips to his lips. A deep coral hue floods across his cheeks. “Oh! Well. That’s- certainly something!”
“Look, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything- I especially shouldn’t have said it like that- if you’re disgusted and want me to leave, you can just say that, I won’t-”
He gives you an incredulous look. “What? No! No, that’s not what I meant at all! I’m not- I mean, I’m not… opposed??”
Your brain seems to have shut off. “You… really?
“Well, I wouldn’t lie to you!” He says defensively. “Especially not about this, that would be cruel!”
A fiery sensation begins to burn in the pit of your stomach. “Lucien.” There’s a new deep, sultry quality to your voice, sending visible shivers down his spine. He looks at you, silently, expectantly.
“Would you want to? Right now?”
He swallows. “I suppose I wouldn’t-”
You don’t even allow him to finish his sentence before you push him down onto the bed, climbing on top of him. He gasps quietly, almost paralyzed.
You straddle him, placing one hand on his waist and leaning down to run the other through his soft blond hair. “Relax,” you purr into his ear. “You can tell me to stop at any time.” You move your hand down to palm the growing bulge in his pants. He lets out a soft whimper, and the fire in your stomach begins to burn brighter. “Fuck,” you whisper. “You’re so pretty.” You move your hand back to his waist and start grinding against him, eliciting more muffled moans from his closed mouth. You run your thumb across his lips. “You like this?”
He nods fervently. “Yes- gods, that feels- really good-” His high, whiny voice is like a divine symphony. Your hands travel slowly down his sides until you slip your thumbs under the waistband of his pants, causing him to stir in anticipation. You drag them down his slim, downy legs, and slide yourself back onto your knees. He whines at the absence of stimulation.
“Sit up, Lucien.”
He inhales sharply and slowly props himself up with his arms, which you can see are shaking with nervousness and excitement.
“Now take your shirt off.”
He nods and eagerly pulls it over his head, tossing it to the side. You allow your gaze to indulgently explore his exposed body. “Look at you,” you breathe softly. “So obedient for me.” He closes his eyes and tilts his head back, whining again and rolling his hips forward. You reach out and hook your fingers onto his loincloth, slowly and agonizingly pulling it down to reveal his rapidly hardening cock, dripping with precum.
“Hmm,” you hum appreciatively. “Already so wet. You want me to suck your dick, Lucien?”
“Yes,” he says in a quiet, choked voice.
“Oh, you’re gonna have to do better than that, Luce. I want you to beg for me. I want you to show me that you want me as much as I want you.”
“Please,” he mewls. “Please, please, I need you- I n-need you, please make me feel good, please-” His words dissolve into incoherence as you grasp onto his thighs, your fingers sinking into his plush skin, pushing his legs further apart. He lets out high, shuddering moans as you put your lips against his cock, swirling your tongue languidly around his tip. “Fuck- oh my gods- aah-”
You continue to suck teasingly at his tip, thoroughly enjoying his taste, the heat of his skin, the high desperation of the noises he’s making. You can feel him squirming, and you can see his hands grabbing fistfuls of the sheets in the corners of your vision.
“Please,” Lucien moans. “I need more- more, please-”
You laugh softly, the vibration of the sound making him sigh wantonly. You move your head down his shaft, sucking and caressing him with your mouth and tongue. His hips buck up involuntarily, his long cock hitting the back of your throat. “Ah- sorry- fuck. It feels- so good- so good-”
You smile and reach up, grabbing his wrist and placing his hand on the back of your head. His fingers immediately lace through your hair, holding firmly onto you. “Oh my gods,” he groans, and starts slowly pushing your head up and down. You relish in his pleasure, in how perfectly his dick seems to fit in your mouth. You shift your hands to his hips, and he whines loudly, thrusting forward.
You can tell he’s holding back, trying to keep his composure. You wish you could tell him it’s okay, he can let go, but you don’t want to stop. His cock is absolutely intoxicating, and you need more of it. You want to make him completely unravel. You increase your pace, bobbing your head up and down, and using your grip on his hips to pull him closer to you, farther down your throat. He cries out your name, and you can feel him quivering beneath you. Yes. Fuck. Oh my gods. Your hands curl into claws, your nails scratching at him in blind desire. His yelps and moans only make you more and more insatiable.
But suddenly, you have an idea that makes an evil smile spread across your face. As wonderful as it would be to swallow every last drop of his cum, you want to see him. You continue to suck on him, rapidly and passionately, coaxing him towards his orgasm-
-And then, you pull back. He practically screams in agony, thrusting hopelessly into the air. You look up at his face; his eyes squeezed shut, his mouth wide open, his features twisted together in pleasure and pain. “N-no,” he gasps out. It takes every ounce of willpower in your body not to pounce on him and finish him off right there.
He opens his eyes and looks down at you pitifully, panting and twitching, leaning back on his hands. “Please, please, keep going, please-”
You climb up on top of him and then swing around, pressing yourself against his sweat-slicked back and putting your lips against his ear.
“I’m going to help you jerk off that pretty cock of yours, and you are not going to cum until I say you can.”
He whimpers quietly, and you reach forward and place your hand on his, guiding it to his throbbing dick. He wraps his fingers needily around it, and you did the same between his. He starts moving his fist up and down, but you tighten your grip and force him to slow down, to which he lets out a heavy, drawn-out moan. You splay your free hand across his smooth chest, stroking his skin, slowly traveling upward until you clasp it around his throat.
Lucien lets out a depraved keening sound, his own free hand shooting backward and finding your thigh, then clutching onto it for dear life. You look at the hopeless expression on his face, completely lost in pleasure. “That’s my good boy,” you croon in his ear, earning yourself another sweetly strangled moan.
“Please,” he stammers out, hardly able to speak. “Please let me cum, please, I want to cum, please, I need it so bad-”
“Mmm, not yet, Luci.” He groans in pain, both at your response and as you remove your hand from his. “Don’t stop, now. Keep the same pace. Be a good boy.”
“I will, I will- I’ll be such a good boy for you, please, plea-” You cut him off by shoving two fingers into his mouth, essentially having him in a headlock now. “Suck.”
He moans again around your fingers, and does as you ask. Your entire body feels as if it might burn to a crisp at any moment, seeing the pleasure he’s in because of you. He can barely concentrate on jerking off and sucking your fingers at the same time. The beautiful noises he’s making are steadily amping up in volume and desperation, and he’s becoming sloppier and shakier the more his restraint fades into utter ecstasy.
You push your fingers further into his mouth. “Does my pretty boy want to cum?” You ask sweetly. He nods and whines in response.
“Cum for me, Lucien. Show me how good you feel.” You clamp your legs on either side of his torso, spreading your fingers out in his mouth, squeezing his throat in encouragement. In a few seconds, hot streams of cum burst out of his dick, covering his hand, his legs, his stomach, the sheets, even the floor. You press hard, passionate kisses against his shoulder, cheek, and neck, everywhere you can reach, as tremors rack his body and his moans reach a heavenly climactic chorus. He calls out your name, over and over, pushing himself into you as he orgasms.
Finally, he goes limp, breathing like he had just run a marathon. You let yourself relax in the blissful intimacy of this moment, before peeling yourself off of him and gently lowering him down onto the bed, pressing a final kiss to his lips. “You’re perfect, Lucien. You did so good.”
“You,” he answered breathlessly. “You’re amazing.”
You cup his cheek in your hand. “Let’s get you cleaned up, hmm?”
The you spend the next few minutes cleaning the mess off of him and his surroundings with rags from your bedside table, while he apologizes profusely no matter how many times you assure him it’s okay (and you actually think it’s very hot). He still doesn’t seem to have complete control of his motor skills back yet.
What a man. You already can’t wait for the next time you get to rail him senseless.
#cross-posted to ao3#skyrim x reader#skyrim smut#skyrim#skyrim fanfiction#skyrim custom followers#lucien flavius#lucien flavius x reader#fun fact the aforementioned lesbian friend actually accidentally opened this as a document on her school account#she was called down to the office and the counselor said i have a career in writing
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how south park characters comfort someone? i’ve got you. please add your own thoughts!
stan: gonna be honest here, i don’t think he’d be all that receptive. i love stan, i actually think im most similar to him than any other character. that said, i think he would be pretty awkward when trying to comfort someone. especially if they’re crying. probably a tentative pat on the back, some generic advice like “it’s gonna be okay dude…just like…don’t think about it?” he means well, he really does. but bro gets extremely confused over his own emotions (and he has a lot of them) so don’t count on him to understand yours. hes even worse over text, “👍”
kyle: similar to stan in some ways, but more of a problem solver. kyle is my fav character but this guy. is not very good at listening and just wants to fix the problem. honestly depending on the situation he’d probably think you’re overreacting. but if he realizes it’s cereal then he must fix it with facts and logic. my partner does this and it’s like okay i love that you wanna fix it but can you just let me complain for a second…anyways. again very well meaning, he’d actually be very good at reassurance.
kenny: king of listening. he doesn’t talk much anyways, he’s more of an observer. so he probably already KNOWS if a friend is in distress. number one guy if you need someone to wrap an arm around you and listen to your problems and be like “that sucks dude” and when he does drop some advice, it’s like the most philosophical life changing advice you’ll ever receive. he also has experience being a source for comfort for his sister, he has a good energy. stan may be the most sensitive, but i think kenny is most in touch and understanding of emotions.
cartman: i’m sorry cartman fans. he just wouldn’t. this bitch would either try to one-up you with his own problems or just flat out laugh at you. other people’s problems are simply just not worth his time. he only cares if it can benefit him in some way. listen i love eric cartman, he IS south park. but he’s a little shit with nearly no sense of empathy and that is why we love him. unless you’re his mom or very close friend, and even then…ehh.
Oh absolutely, 100%.
Stan is probably a pretty decent listener. When it comes to advice though you’re on your own. Like you said, he’ll probably try. He means well. But he’s REALLY fucking awkward. He hesitantly pats their shoulder and says something like ‘don’t worry about it. It’ll get better.” and over text he 100% offers no advice. He’s a face to face kind of guy. Over text he kinda just shuts down.
Kyle absolutely means well. But god almighty he’s an awful listener. If you just wanna complain to him you’re gonna have to deal with a ‘yeah but…’ every five seconds. Or just flat out tell him you wanna just complain and you’ll get a listening ear, but he still tries to do something. Be it talk to someone for you, helping you out, whatever. Kyle is a fixer. And he won’t stop until the problem is fixed. He thinks he’s doing what is best but he’s not sometimes. He gets that from his ma. He has no problem dropping the harshness of reality in someone though. He drops it hard like ‘well if you’re gonna complain about abc you need to do xyz. You need to do something about said problem’ if it’s aonething only you can fix (like an insecurity or smth)
Kenny is an incredible listener and drops pearls of wisdom sometimes. He’s the quieter and more ‘mysterious’ type anyway so hearing so thing that isn’t ’haha tits’ come from him is kinda mind blowing. But when you need a friend, he’s the go to guy of the main four. He is a god at listening. He offers physical support if needed. He offers advice (even if it isn’t always good) but he will sometimes drop some poetic, metamorphic bombshell that people actually take from him. Hes the main guy to go for for consolation.
Cartman just sucks. Hell laugh. Or exploit you. Or threaten you. Unless it benefits him, oh well. Your problem.
#south park#skipper speaks#eric cartman#stan marsh#kyle broflovski#kenny mccormick#i love getting asks like this#i have ANOTHER 12 hour flight with a 4 hour layover tmrw#please feel free to bombard me with asks like this#anon#answered#south park headcanons
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Scar Buddies
remus lupin x reader
CW: bad writing, not revised probably typos, bad parents, abuse (not super detailed, just the wound shapes and where they are), cursing, tell me if there’s any more!
Christmas Break, 6th year
Going home for christmas was my least favorite part of the year at hogwarts. going home meant seeing my parents. meant coming back to hogwarts with new memories that would haunt me for the rest of my life.
Like the Black family, the L/n’s had their own ideas on bloodlines and relationships with muggleborn students. “you mustn’t have any relations with any muggleborns. you can’t taint the bloodline we have fought so hard to protect from tragedy.”
the words bubbled in my brain every so often, like a fizzy drink being tapped making the bubbles rise to the top of the liquid. my thoughts on bloodlines were the total opposite of my families. but having muggleborn and halfblood friends was something you can’t just bring up at the family table. let alone having a crush on a certain halfblood.
walking into the l/n family home felt like going into a burning building with no gear or mask to protect you from the smoke and flames. you just had to deal with the burning sensation in their lungs and suck it up. “one does not complain about their pain. it’s unladylike and quite frankly, annoying.” my mother was never one for subtlety in her ‘lessons’ on being ladylike and a ‘proper’ L/n.
“y/n.” That’s mom.
shit. what did i do now?
“your father received a letter today from the black family. you know their son, sirius.”
i nod, too scared to speak.
“well, he’s been hanging around some…mud bloods. halfbloods as well.” i freeze upon hearing her speak. “apparently you haven’t taken any of our lessons to heart. what have i told you about behavior like this? just being around people like that will ruin the reputation we built up for you.”
“i know i’m sorry-“
“do not apologize now. you need punishment before i can even think properly about forgiving what you have ruined.”
the last thing i remember was a loud roaring sound in my ears and my face going numb.
~~~~~~~
coming back from christmas break was always a relief. but this time around i felt more dread than anything else.
a large bandage covers my left eye and gauze goes across my cheeks and nose. i can feel the stares burning into my skull as i try to quickly board the express, bumping into things and people as i walk by. my eyesight isnt the greatest. neither is my luck.
when i get onto the train, the first thing i do is bump into someone’s chest.
“y/n?”
“hi remus.” my voice is strained and hoarse. god i sound pathetic.
“what happened? are- are you okay? let’s go find the rest.”
i slowly nod as he takes my hand and leads me to the rest of the marauders and sits me down.
“what the fuck.”
“well hello to you to sirius!” i reply sarcastically.
“y/n what happened?” his eyes don’t leave my face as questions me, running a hand through his hair anxiously.
“oh you know, the usual. got a haircut-“
“y/n this is not a time for jokes!” sirius yells, making me flinch as the sudden change in volume. “sorry. i’m just worried.”
“just another l/n lesson.” the train car is silent for a minute. i look up and remus takes my face in his hands. desperate to not make eyecontact with him, i squeeze my eyes shut.
“i’m going to kill them.” sirius says suddenly.
“sirius! it’s fine, i’ve been dealing with this for years. you of all people should know what it’s like.”
“exactly why i’m going to kill them! i’ve already been kicked out so what el-“
“you were kicked out?!” my eyes widen as he huffs.
“yeah. over the break. spent the rest of my christmas with the potters.” he softens a bit, realizing how tense he got.
remus still has a hand on my face and i look him in the eyes, my face burning as i realize how close we are. i try to look around the room but he’s just so handsome.
“god. you’re never going back to them. i won’t let it happen.” remus sounds so serious about it that i almost believe him. almost.
“and where would i stay then hm? hogwarts?”
“my house is alway free! mom is always asking about you so i don’t think she’ll mind.” james suggests.
“james that’s a lovely offer but-“
“but what? you want to go back there?” sirius questions.
“no i just-“
“y/n you’re staying with the potters. i can give up my room and sleep on the couch, or just share james’s room!” sirius is so adamant about me staying with the potters.
can i really stay there?
as i’m thinking, i feel the gauze around my eye pull off slightly and hear a faint gasp.
“holy shit y/n.” remus has been looking this entire time. at me. at my wounds.
“i know. fuck i know.” i push his hands off of me and look down trying not to cry.
“you’re going to the hospital wing as soon as you get to hogwarts. i’ll take you there myself alright?”
“remus. she’ll ask me where i got this and then she’ll tell dumbledoor and then my parents will find out and they’ll do even worse…” the car is silent again. it’s silent until we get to hogwarts.
“we’re going. cmon.”
i don’t try to argue with remus as he pulls me from my seat and walks with me to the hospital wing.
getting my wounds healed was an easy process but the scars are permanent. a deep cut runs from the top of my hair line, slightly into it, down to right under my eye. it completely took my eyesight out of my left eye. that’s something that can’t be healed. the scar going from cheek to cheek wasn’t as deep but was longer than the first. i’m glad i have no memory of it happening.
madam pomfrey, desperately trying to get me to speak enough to answer her questions, gets me a cup of water and something to fidget with so i don’t scratch my hand as i silently panic. remus is standing at the edge of the hospital bed i’m sitting on and Pomfrey is sat infront of me.
“who did this?”
i cant answer.
“was it your mother?”
i cant.
“your father?”
please. shut up.
“someone else?”
“it was no one.” that’s the only excuse you could come up with? really?
“you know better than that. who was it?”
i contemplate my choices for a second. 1. tell her and possibly get your parents far away from you and you live with the potters. 2. tell her and your parents are told and they take you out of hogwarts completely and send you to never be found again. 3. don’t tell her and live in silence.
“it was my mother.” oh god it felt so good to get off my chest. she looks up at me with a worried look and then softly smiles.
“thank you for telling me. you can come see me anytime you need. there will be a few arrangements made for you in the future alright?”
“can i stay with the potters?” i blurt out before i can even think properly about what i’m saying. “james said it would be okay and- and i really cant go back there. please let me stay with them. please”
There’s that soft smile again. “i’ll have a talk with the potters and see if we can have that done okay? you’ll be safe no matter where you go alright?”
“thank you. so much.”
remus walks me back to my dorm after everything is done.
“i’m glad you told her.” the whole walk had been silent until now. the sudden words shock me a bit before i answer.
“me too. god i hope i never see my mother again. or my father. honestly anyone in my family. unless it’s in the newspaper saying they’re going to azkaban.”
he chuckles slightly at my words.
“remus, why did you come with me? you missed dinner. i could’ve walked myself you know.” the question had been swimming in my head for the past hour. i had to get it out.
“well,” he started. “i wasn’t sure if you’d actually come here for starters. i mean when we were on the train you didn’t want to come here at all.”
he was right. the idea of going to the hospital wing scared the shit out of me. telling other people other than the marauders about what was happening scared me. everything about it scared me.
“but i also couldn’t stand to see you hurt alone. i know what if feels like to be alone like that.”
“oh. i’m sorry.”
“no no! it’s not your fault. you don’t have to be sorry at all. i just- i couldnt stand to see the person i’ve liked since 2nd year like that.”
i stopped walking. liked? second year? liked?! liked?!
“what?!” my sudden volume change obviously surprised him as he stops walking as well.
“yeah, is that alright?”
“alright? remus i have liked you since the moment i met you. god i never knew how oblivious i was! you’re just- you’re just perfect in every way and i cant stop thinking about you and-“
my words are cut off by a hand on my cheek and lips on mine. i melt into the kiss as he pulls me in close.
“i guess we’re scar buddies now huh?”
“oh haha remus.” i say pulling him in for another kiss.
“does this mean i can take you out on a date? maybe friday? 7pm?”
“of course.”
————————————
a/n:
okay hi!!!! sorry my writings all over the place! i’m a hot mess and my writing reflects it ahah. i hope you liked this one! if you have any requests, i’m always open to anything!
#x reader#harry potter x reader#harry potter#remus lupin x reader#remus x reader#remus lupin#remus x you#remus being remus#marauders era#marauders#x you#angst#i love you
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the wildest tattoo story i’ve ever heard. transcript below cut.
Anthony: Hi I’m Anthony Burch, your Daddymaster-
Freddie: Hi dad
Anthony: Uh, y’all played the Yakuza games? [chorus of agreement] Yeah, okay, so- I’m gonna- this isn’t gonna work so well for the podcast we’re doing. I’m gonna stand up, and then somebody just insult me.
Beth: He’s wearing a dress shirt that’s kind of nice with sweatpants-
Freddie in the background: Oh my god
Beth: So I don’t know where this is going-
Will: What is happening?
Beth: And now he’s unbuttoning his shirt-
Will (overlapping): Hey Anthony, you suck. (overlapping with Freddie) WHAT!
[exclaimations of shock]
Will: He’s got a back tattoo! It’s- it’s bitching as hell!
Beth: A fullass back tattoo, I’m never insulting this man again EVERRRR
Matt: Wait, is that a temporary tattoo?
Anthony: No it’s real
Beth: No it’s real
Matt: I mean, a temporary tattoo is real, it’s just temporary- [unintelligible behind background laughter]
Anthony: I guess mine’s temporary in the fact that I’ll die eventually, but no-
Will: What on earth- what is it? [overlapping with others] what is it? Draw a picture for our listening audience at home
Anthony: So it is a Yakuza style back tattoo. It is not complete or colored in yet, and the lower third is missing, but it's the first three cats I have instead of, like, a dragon or a fucking samurai or something cool, it's just my three cats, like, hanging out, but in Yakuza style, and it wasn't supposed to be like this. [over confused exclaimations] So I went in, and the plan was-
Matt: I mean, that's a lot for not to be-
Anthony: I KNOW.
Beth: Can I redo the [unintelligable]? This is why we all knew. This is why we all knew.
Matt: Also I’m changing the fact to that Anthony Burch is the most popular guy at school. Because he has a fucking cool tattoo
[laughter and agreement in background]
Anthony: This is a story about me being mentally not as great as I thought I was. So I went in and was like, I finally found the thing I want to do, which is a big Yakuza style tattoo of my cats because I love my cats so much. But I don't like pain, so what if you could design a tattoo for me that was, like, a three part thing, and we'll just do one part that stands on its own, and if I can handle the pain, we'll finish the rest of it?
Will softly in the background: What the fuck?
Anthony: And he went, Absolutely. And then a couple of weeks went by, and then he forgot that part and went: ‘Cool. I finished the tattoo,’ and he showed me the design, and A) I didn't like it that much, and B) it was so big- [soft ‘oh, no’ in the background] it was my whole back. In my head, I went, this is the moment. This is where you can decide to stand up for yourself and occupy the smallest amount of space a human being possibly can in the world and say, actually, we talked about it being small, or actually, I would like it if you change certain elements of the design. And I thought about that very hard for about 45 seconds, and I said, that looks perfect, let's do it.
Freddie: WHAT?
Will: This is the biggest, if not, no worries I've ever heard of in my life.
Anthony, over sounds of horror: Yeah. It’s- yeah. And so I laid on my stomach for 3 hours, and he did the most painful thing I have ever experienced in my life, including getting my butthole and ding dong waxed, the entire time being like, it would be cool if I was an adult. It would be cool if I was capable of asking for, like- I now know if I go to a restaurant and somebody just hands me a plate of shit, I'll go, that's vegan, baby. And then not complain or send it back, apparently.
Matt: Have you grown to like it?
Anthony: No. [shocked and horrified exclamations from others] It hurt a lot! No, I mean, it looks good. I mean, I just got it here. I literally just got it today.
Beth: I think it looks killer
Will: It looks badass
Anthony: Yeah, it's not done yet. I'm sure it's looking good, but I have to go back and get more stuff done. All my friends who have tattoos were like, no, it's cool, like, at a certain point, it hurts so much you get adrenaline or you get endorphins or any of this kind of stuff.
Freddie: I’ve never bought that
Anthony: Nope! It didn't happen to me. Turns out, At least not on your back, because your back is close to your spine, so you get nerves. And so I could feel the needle vibrating against my fucking bones on my back. Felt like somebody with a box cutter attached to a fucking vibrating wand just dragging it across my back.
Matt: I think in support of Anthony, we should all get back tattoos of his cats- [laughter] All four of us.
Beth: We should all get back tattoos of Anthony.
Anthony: Don’t do that
Beth: I’m gonna do it
Freddie: We were just talking about that-
Matt: We all get back tattoos of Anthony getting a back tattoo
Beth: Yes
[laughter]
Anthony: When I was there, I said, like, a full back tattoo or whatever, and some guy in the other room
Freddie: ‘OR WHATEVER?’
Anthony: Yeah, yeah, and some guy in the other room was like, ‘oo that's the right move.‘ And I was like, Cool, that must be because it's a good for beginners thing
Will, pained: Wha-
Anthony: And then as it was happening, the tattoo artist was like, you're handling this pretty well. This is, like, one of the most painful places you can possibly get tattooed.
Beth: Oh, my God.
Anthony: And I was like, Okay, cool. That's good to know.
Beth: I want you to know that I see you, and that I would probably do the same thing, so.
Anthony: Yeah. Like, tattoos come and go, being awkward is somebody’s forever
[music riff fades out]
#I HAD TO TYPE OUT THE ENTIRE THING IT'S TOO WILD#when i got my rib tat it the adrenaline did kick in and it just felt kind of like you're being tickled on the bone#which was nice actually#but GOD the 'i would rather die than have a negative social interaction' energy...relatable#dndads#even if u dont listen i encourage listening to this bc it made me scream multiple times
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Birthday |One-Shot|
Summary: You’ve spent most of your birthdays alone in the past few years, until your neighbour, Eddie comes over, making you rethink your plans to be alone.
Warning: fluff, swearing
Eddie was deicing his van when he noticed his neighbour, Mrs O’Shea was coming out of her trailer, holding a plate with a chocolate cake on it.
She approached the trailer next to his and knocked on the door. Coming out of the door was you. “Hello, Mrs O’Shea,” you greeted her. “What can I do for you?”
“I’ve just come here to drop this off. Happy birthday,” Mrs O’Shea replied, as she handed the cake to you. You thanked her, when she said, “You can share it with your friends from college tonight.”
Eddie noticed that you hesitated, before you responded to her, “Yeah, yeah. Definitely. Thanks again.”
“You’re welcome, dear. Remember not to play music too loud tonight.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t.” After saying goodbye, you shut the door, before you leaned back against the door, muttering, “Shit.”
Truth to be told, you were planning on celebrating alone, like you’ve already done in the last few years. The last time you had friends at a birthday party was at your fifteen birthday. However, when it got to your sixteenth, no one showed up. Mainly because there was a Christmas dance and everyone else went there instead. Since then, you had decided not to have a party. You had spent the next few birthdays with your family until you moved to Hawkins for community college a couple of years ago. Last year, you had spent it alone, and had planned on doing it again.
Later that evening, you were picking your favourite film to watch. You placed the cake on the coffee table and you were about to cut it when you heard a knock on your door. You sighed, hoping it wasn’t Carol singers, as you stood up and went to open the door.
It was Eddie.
“Hey,” he greeted you.
“Eddie, what are you doing here?” You asked. “Did you need your tools back?”
“No, no. I’m not here for that, I’m actually here, because well-“
Eddie handed a bag to you, as he said, “It’s nothing major, just a card and a gift for you. Happy birthday.”
You thanked him, before you began to ask, “But, how did you-?”
“I overheard Mrs O’Shea earlier,” Eddie interjected. “I thought I could give it to you, before you had guests over for your party.”
“Actually, I’m not having anyone over,” you admitted. “And there’s definitely no party.”
Eddie gaped, as he began to speak, “But, I thought you were-“
“No, I don’t see the point of having a party when people have Christmas stuff to do. That’s the downside of having a birthday close to Christmas.”
“That sucks. So, what about your family?”
“They live too far away. Not that I would expect them to come here during the Winter.”
You shrugged your shoulders, before telling him, “Thanks again for the gift.”
“No problem.” After you both bid each other good night, Eddie was about to turn and head to his trailer, when he suddenly turned back to you, as he called out to you, before asking you, “Are you really gonna spend your birthday on your own?”
You nodded before replying, “Unless you want to join me and watch a film?”
“Well, it’s your birthday, you can do what you want. If you want me to watch a movie with you, I will.” Eddie chuckled, when you smiled as you asked, “Okay. Would you like to join me for a movie?”
“I’d be happy to,” Eddie replied. “Could you give me a minute? I need to get something from my place.”
“Sure.”
A moment later, you were cutting a couple of slices of cake when you heard the door knock, followed by Eddie calling out, “It’s just me.”
You opened the door, finding Eddie standing outside with his acoustic guitar. After letting him in, Eddie told you, “I thought that maybe I could play your favourite songs. It could be another gift to you.”
“That’s sweet of you. Oh, that reminds me,” you replied as you grabbed the bag and took out Eddie’s gift, which was a soft dragon toy. You held it close to you, as you told him, “Thank you for this, I love it.”
“I’m glad. I didn’t know what you liked and it was the first thing I picked.”
You smiled, as you both sat down on the couch, and started watching your favourite film, as you told Eddie, “Help yourself to some cake.”
“Thanks,” Eddie was about to take a slice when he said, “Wait, did you make a wish before cutting the cake?”
You shook your head, before telling him, “I didn’t have a candle, so I-“ Suddenly, Eddie got up and went outside, as he said, “Be right back.”
You chuckled, as you paused the movie, while asking yourself, “What’s he doing now?”
A moment later, Eddie came back with a birthday candle and a lighter. He stuck a candle on the sliced cake and lit it. He then told you, “There. Now you can make a wish.”
You giggled, before you made your wish and blew out the candle.
Eddie cheered, as you put his cake on a plate, and handed it to him, before playing the video.
After watching the movie, Eddie played some of your favourite songs on his guitar, while you were mesmerised by his guitar skills. In between playing the guitar, you and Eddie were chatting about things from family to music, with Eddie inviting you to see his band play at the Hideout.
A few moments later, you were cutting the rest of the cake for Eddie’s uncle, as well as his friends, and covered it in cling film, before handing it to him. “Thanks,” Eddie told you, as he grabbed his guitar with his free hand. “I’ll get the door for you,” you began to speak. “Are you sure you don’t need me to help you taking it home?”
“I’m sure I’ll manage. But thanks,” Eddie replied, as you opened the door for him when you said, “Thanks for tonight. I didn’t think that I would have company on my birthday this year.”
Eddie chuckled, before telling you, “Thanks for letting me join you.”
After bidding each other good night, you wrapped your arms around him and hugged him. “If I didn’t have my hands full, I would hug you back,” Eddie said, which made you giggle. After moving your head back, so you could face him, you both gazed at each other before you leaned your heads closer and shared a kiss.
You broke off the kiss, as the pair of you giggled. “So...did you wish for that?” Eddie asked.
You chuckled, before confessing, “No. I wished for something else.”
“Like what?”
You giggled before you retorted, “I’m not telling.”
Eddie laughed, before you gave him a passionate peck.
It may not have been much, but it was one of the best birthdays you’ve had in ages.
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