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empress-simps · 2 months

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Letters To My Lupin

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Fem! Reader CW: Occasional swearing but that’s about it. Genre: Fluff

Summary: Remus decided to find out who’s behind giving him little notes and chocolates ever since his fourth year at Hogwarts that made him fall in love.

Note: It’s time for my man’s fic! (Don’t let Regulus see this) This is just pure fluff guys (and self-indulgent tbh) please enjoy! I had so much fun making this! (The song I listened to while making this is Hey Lover! - Wabie, you guys might want to listen to it while reading this ;) ) Photos used are from Pinterest! Credits to the owner!

‘The man that you are, Remus Lupin. It honestly drives me crazy.’

Normally, this would be weird and downright creepy for other people if they receive this kind of note from an anonymous sender— but for Remus, it isn’t.

Remus feels his brows raise, a small smile grazes upon his lips, chuckling to himself as he folds up the small piece of paper and tucks it to his cardigan pocket, quite amused. It sort of became a part of his routine to receive letters and chocolates (mainly kisses) from his secret admirer almost every day since the start of their fourth year.

He found it weird at first, feeling a bit creeped out as he thought it was a bit stalkerish. He would find random notes to his bed with a Hershey’s kiss after taking a shower or when he got back from classes, on some occasions it will be delivered through the owl in the great hall (which was quite embarrassing in his opinion). He often catches himself waiting for the little note and chocolates to just magically appear wherever he is at the moment.

As time passed, he was actually looking forward to the little harmless notes he receives. It felt surprisingly good? Somehow, his heart fills with warmth and a smile subconsciously forms on his lips. He even has a small box hidden under his bed which was filled with the little notes you send him throughout the years.

It makes him feel like he could be loved; he’s worthy of being loved.

He took the Hershey’s chocolate bar that came along with the note, opening it and taking a bite. Seems like his secret admirer was feeling pretty generous today.

“Moony, can I have some?” Sirius asks, eyeing the chocolate in his friend’s hands.

“No. It’s mine.”

“Aw come on! Are you seriously still upset I just took one kiss from your not-so-hidden stash?! You’ve got loads of ‘em mate!” Sirius threw his arms up in the air, complaining. “It’s mine, Pads. Go buy yours.” He reasons out but breaking a piece off his chocolate bar and giving some to an awaiting and smug Sirius.

“It tastes better when it’s free,”

“Seems like Moony got a note, huh?” James teased, elbowing the tall werewolf as he saw the paper poking out of the pocket of Remus’ cardigan and the chocolate in his hands.

“What does it say, Moons?” Peter asked curiously.

Remus blushed, a shade of pink dusting his face as he shakes his head.

“Come on, Moony! You always used to tell us!” Sirius whines tugging Remus’ arm, shaking his dear friend. James laughed, a sudden glint in his eye. “Pads, stop it- “cue a protest from Sirius. “Our Moony’s blushing!” James teased in a sing song voice. “Oh sod off, Prongs!” Remus retorts back.

“You think we don’t notice mate?”

Remus fell silent, flustered. Prongs caught him off guard. “I don’t know what you’re talking about Prongs- “

“You’re in love, Moony.” Sirius cuts him off, smiling cheekily at one of his best mates. Remus raised an eyebrow and “You think I would fall for a person who sends me letters anonymously?”

“Well, yes?” Sirius smiled sheepishly as Remus shot him an unimpressed look. “You’re secretly a hopeless romantic, Moony. Don’t think we don’t notice you reading those romance books when you thought no one is looking.” Peter joined in, smiling.

He just sighs, rubbing his hands on his face. He can’t deny it, they’re right. It makes him feel stupid that he felt attraction to whoever is sending letters to him, but he can’t help it.

“Y/n, you’re seriously going to make the poor boy have diabetes by the time he turns 21.” Your friend shakes her head, seeing the overflowing number of chocolates scattered on your bed as you decide what to give him throughout the week.

“He just looks so adorable; I can’t help it!” You reasoned out, finally picking up the Reese cups at the foot of your bed and deciding you (more like your owl) will give it to him tomorrow.

“Merlin’s beard, Y/n! You’re so fucking in love with Remus Lupin. You’ve probably already spent hundreds of galleons already just to get your hands on muggle chocolate.” She told you, knowing that you bribed one of your muggle born classmates to buy you some during the break.

“Not hundreds, probably around a thousand?” You shrugged, grabbing a quill and a piece of parchment, smiling to yourself as you write. “Y/n! You’ve got to be kidding me!” Your friend exclaimed, stunned.

“Eh, it’s alright.” You waved her off, folding the piece of parchment and attaching the chocolate to it.

“I’m seriously gonna tell Sirius one of these days that you’re the one who sends love letters to his friend.”

“And I’m also gonna seriously tell him that you secretly wish you would date each other.”

Remus stared at the Reese Cup and note that was delivered in front of him as he ate breakfast in the great hall. A small smile crept through his lips as he opened the note. ‘I hope you like Reese cups :) Have a great day!’

The owl hoots, trying to get Remus’ attention. “Ah yes, I almost forgot. Sorry!” He took out a treat, feeding it to the owl before grabbing the little note he made, tying it securely so it wouldn’t fall. “Give that to your owner, yeah?” The owl then flew away.

“Finally making a move, Moony?” Sirius asked, smirking as he saw the whole interaction. “I guess? I need to find out who’s been sending them before we graduate, because I might never get the chance to.”

“Oh my Merlin! You wouldn’t believe it! Remus just sent me a letter!” You exclaimed, entering your dorm room, expecting your friend to be there.

Well she is, but two things were out of the ordinary: A boy was in your dorm room hanging out with your friend, and it was Sirius Black. Your stomach dropped. “Ah shit.” You mumbled, feeling the heat creep up your cheeks. You couldn’t even look at him, worried he’ll tease you and you just might combust from the utter embarrassment you’re feeling.

“I see you’re the one who’s sending our Moony little notes?” He grinned, acknowledging you. All you could do was mutter a small “Yeah.” wanting the castle floors to swallow you whole now.

“It’s alright, Y/n. I’m pretty sure he’s already head over heels for you. He might just marry you then and there when you finally decide to meet him.” Sirius chuckles.

“Sirius! What does it say, Y/N?” Your friend asks, clearly happy and eager for you.

“He wants to meet me,” You blushed as Sirius whistled and your friend squeals.

“That’s my Moony!”

“That’s great! When?”

You gulped, “Later evening, an hour before our Astronomy class shared with Gryffindors.”

To say that you were nervous was an understatement. Your felt your heart rate pick up every time you heard footsteps echoing, getting closer to your meeting place for it to only pass by. You kept having these mini heart attacks every now and then as you patiently waited for Remus to (hopefully) arrive.

“Y/n?” A voice called out, making you turn your head in that direction.

Remus felt his world stop, seeing the girl who took his breath away since they were first years. You offered him a nervous smile as he slowly walked towards her.

He would never admit it, but he secretly pictured you to be the one that was writing notes and giving him those chocolates that made his day. It was probably the main reason why he felt attracted to the person behind the notes and chocolates he receives. Although he made himself believe it was far from the truth, there is no way you would’ve done those when there were more good-looking guys other than him.

Except it was real. You’re standing in front of him and looking up with those eyes of yours that seem to enchant him and make him fall for you even deeper. “Hi, Rems.” Biting your lip nervously, calling him by the nickname you gave him in your letters.

Merlin, maybe Sirius is right; he might marry you right there and then.

#remus lupin x reader #remus x reader #remus x y/n #marauders x reader #moony x reader #marauders fandom #james potter #sirius black #remus lupin #peter pettigrew #marauders era

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nyimasu · 1 year

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INCHES IN BETWEEN US — BUDDHA X FEM!READER

ART CREDIT!

— CW : size kink, buddha is THE master of teasing, sweets are involved in this one (keep reading ehe), sacrilegious stuff, lots of foreplay, pet names (petal), praise kink, fingering and oral (f receiving), prone bone position

— WORD COUNT : 2.1k┊AO3 LINK

NOTE : who would've thought buddha would break me out of my writer's block *heavy sigh* you better watch out in the future for other unholy thoughts of mine about him and other ror's charas 🤭

P.S : sweeteries of the sort are NOT safe to use on intimate parts! I just added it here for funsies but you all stay safe out there please <;3

It’s too much, the dash of distance between you and him. Too close, yet so far from one another.

Nevertheless, his warmth overwrites yours like the other times as the man inches closer to your parted lips, a bright smile bordering his own while a strong hand covers your breast altogether. You close your eyes, whiny whimpers clogging your throat.

The differences between you and your partner are too many to count, starting from status and height. To feel him hover over your smaller frame is enough to make you spiral.

But not as much as when he starts to tease you about it.

A gentle kiss on the tip of your nose, then his mouth is a breath away from yours. His earrings jingle as he straddles you, lips curled in a sly smirk.

“Aw, what’s the matter? Too big of a boy for ya, uhm? You want just the tip, petal?”

A shaky sob rips through your chest at the question, eyes flying to stare into the holy ones transfixed on your body. But Buddha is far from being divine, purposely avoiding the mere enlightenment of the mind whenever he’s with you.

Why indulge himself in that when he can experience such pleasurable things such as your lips coated in sugar?

He takes off his glasses with his free hand while kneading the tender flesh of your tits caged in his other one. He leaves them on one of the many pillows scattered across the room, similar to the ones you are laying on (not a big fan of beds, the both of you).

Buddha grazes your nipples with his palm, hard, and your reaction makes him smirk.

So needy for me.

“Want me to keep doing it? Ah-ah”, he tuts when you shake your head, out of breath. “Let me hear that cute voice of yours.”

“N-no, I need you here.” you point at your crotch with your eyes, embarrassment laced with desire boiling in your veins. Buddha can feel how wet you are through the fabric of his robes, too, but he won’t let you off the hook so easily.

“Where, exactly?” he whispers, a hint of amusement tainting his voice as his fingers circle your breast and then down to graze the navel. His touch lingers on it for a second then he looks up at you, waiting.

If you stop talking, he won’t move.

He’s going to be the death of you.

“Keep going, please.” it’s a feeble, pathetic plea the one that reaches him, but he obliges all the same. On his own terms, of course.

The noise of something being unwrapped should startle you, but you are used to it. However, you can’t help but roll your eyes at the sound, especially because you know what it means.

“Did you just roll your eyes at me?” “Me? Never.” you stare at Buddha through lidded eyes. Somehow you still have some brattiness left in you, and you use it to your advantage when you raise a hand to his crotch, palming him through the robes. Oh.

You’re not the only one riled up.

His hiss proves you right, and so does the white stick poking out of his mouth: he really popped a lollipop in his mouth. A strawberry flavoured one, to be exact.

Everytime he eats one of them, it means you are going to be bedridden for a while.

Black orbs pierce your soul as he chuckles, “Ah, petal. You are going to be so much fun for centuries to come. My pretty, sweet petal.”

The tinge of possessiveness in those last words leaves you breathless, but you shoot him a beaming smile he copies right away. He will not get bored of you anytime soon, and you’re far too gone for him to back down now.

The softness of the moment turns into lust as Buddha tilts his head to the side, you gawking at him as he rolls the pink globe of sugar on his lips from one side to another.

His tongue swirls around it a few times and while he does so, he strips himself of his clothes. — what’s left of them, because the tank top had been ripped to shreds by you an hour ago.

That stark body of his, every inch of it sculptured and forged by millenia of godly training, is always a sight to see.

You feel your mouth water and almost choke on it at the sensation of his erection pushing against your thigh. He’s so pleased with your reaction — your body chanting in ecstasy for him is always music to his ears. Buddha rewards you by bending down, lollipop pushed aside in his mouth to capture your lips in a passionate kiss.

A sudden attack at your resolve to stay focused, not to give in so quickly to him, but it doesn’t work.

In the haze of the moment you suck on his canines and he moans, gaze roaming your face as he breaks the kiss and sighs out,

“Seems you can’t wait any longer, am I right?”

“I’m not the only one.” you shoot back and Buddha chuckles. Touché.

The arousal between your thighs pools more and more with every clever stroke he resumes to give to the lollipop. You try to rub them together and give yourself some sort of relief, but he's having none of that.

The deity stares you down, one eyebrow raised.

For a moment, you catch the glimpse of lilies swallowing his pupils, then they vanish.

You are unaware of his next move, but he’s not.

“Budd-” before you can finish, he presses the candy on your lower lip, prying your mouth open until the lollipop falls on your tongue. The taste of him on your taste buds makes you dizzy.

“Talk to me.”

His lips ghost over your body as he descends, his hands already on your thighs stretching them open. You do so without breaking eye contact, and when the space between your legs is enough for his frame to fill, his hair tickles your skin. Buddha leaves a sticky trail of kisses everywhere he can reach, breathing on them when you suddenly yelp.

He notices it and stares up at you just as you do the same, sprawled atop the pile of fluffy pillows and veils of the bedroom.

Magnificent, Buddha sighs in his mind and a grin is all he gives away when another warm, clear wave of arousal leaks through your pussy.

“Do you need me here?” his tongue on your thigh.

“Or here?”

When he moves again, you almost flee your skin.

“My God yes, right there.” out of reflex, you bury your fingers in his hair as he wraps his tongue around your clit, sucking on it while you yank at the locks, whining. Buddha knows better than wearing it up around you for you adore to see his long, soft strands glide over your body like silken streams of water.

To your displeasure he stops his ministrations to spare you a puzzled look, as if he heard you say the lewdest of lies. And to him, it is.

“Not God.

Me.”

And without missing a beat, Buddha dips his head down to take half of your soppy cunt in his mouth, easing two fingers in you at the same time.

You arch your back in shock, biting on the lollipop for dear life while the deity between your legs runs his tongue up your folds, humming to himself how sweeter you are than any other candy he ever ate as he fingers your insides, clenching and squeezing him until he scissors them apart. You are not going to take him fully if not fully prepped.

But it’s not enough.

“Buddha,” you keen, despair oozing from your voice as he simply coates his lips in your juices, doing nothing more. “I want more.”

He’s quick to respond without looking at you: “You should let go of any carnal desire you have, petal, if you want to achieve enlightenment.”

He did not just say that when he’s knuckles-deep inside you.

You yank at his roots, merciless, and the action has Buddha groan. The grunt goes straight to your pussy but don’t let it distract you from pushing the man’s head backward. When your eyes clash, you whisper through gritted teeth, “Don’t you dare lecture me about carnality when your cock is hard like a rock against my thigh.

How about you fuck me to Nirvana, instead?

Now that definitely stirs him up, and your words sets him ablaze.

Buddha leaves the comfort of your velvety walls and pussy with a sigh, but the emptiness is soon replaced by his hands behind your knees; he hooks your thighs on his broad shoulders, kissing them as you raise on your elbows to better stare at him.

“Mind if I borrow the lollipop?”

You give it to him, confused, until you watch as he takes it and realise what he wants to do. Your eyes go huge in alarm but Buddha carries on amidst your complaints.

“No-”

“Oh, shut up. We both know you’re not so against it when I do this.”

He kisses your knee to make sure you don’t take his words the wrong way and you immediately relax. Above everything, Buddha is a deity and as such, he acts on whims. And amongst his peers, he’s the most unpredictable one.

When he’s sure you’re not tense anymore, his hand still holding the candy lowers on your pussy and you hold your breath. But you almost faint on the spot when Buddha coats the lollipop in your juices, stroking it along your lower lips to capture every droplet.

That knocks the air out of you for good, and you’re close to hyperventilation when the candy disappears in Buddha’s mouth.

He’s sucking on it slowly, as if your release is a flavour he can’t stop to have in his mouth. Well, you’re not far from the truth.

“What a good girl”, he coos as he helps you get down on the pillows again, cupping your face the moment he comes up to peck at your lips in adoration. “Lemme taste you a bit more. Come on, don’t be shy.”

You smile, dragging him in another kiss he eagerly accepts.

But then, the world spins and you with it.

When you come to be, you notice you’re laying flat on your stomach, face buried in the pillows. What just happened?

You rise to your elbows once more and look from above your shoulder to see Buddha on his feet, legs slightly open as you watch him pump himself a few times, his own need for you so strong that the tip of his cock is already covered in precum. His gaze, transfixed at the sight of your glistening pussy, darkens the moment he feels your eyes on him.

He’s so aroused he can barely think straight.

“Why are you so far away from me?” you ask with a pout and Buddha sucks in a breath. Veins popping out on his neck, he waits for you to smile at him and when you do, another sigh claws its way out of him.

Not only you motion for Buddha to come back, but to lure him faster you spread your legs as much as you can, giving the man a full view of your cunt clamp, spasm around nothing.

“Fuck.”

“See? I need you inside me,” you’re eyeing him shamelessly and he doesn’t mind it at all. “Don’t make me wait. Please.”

So the moment he falls to his knees you smile, and he hides his face in the crook of your neck as he pushes a hand on your waist and his cock finally, finally dives into you. He moves slowly to let you adjust to his girth, and you cry in relief with each little thrust.

Every inch of his brush your sweet spots without even trying and you breathe in loudly when he bottoms out. He fills you to the brim just by staying still and Buddha is doing his best to stop himself from rutting into you. He can’t let his cock think for him, too.

But just feeling you clench around him and moan with every love bite he leaves on your neck as you take him and see goosebumps run all over your skin because of it — he’s going mad.

Your pupils are blown with lust when he tilts your head towards him, and he wastes no time in spitting the stick of the lollipop on the floor to grab you by the chin and stare at you dead in the eye. “Tell me when to move, petal.”

Spidery fingers wrap around his hand — yours. A sultry laugh escapes you yet he drinks it in when you kiss him, in line with the alluring way your hips keep bucking into his for friction.

Light green hair washes over you as Buddha complies, and when you moan on his lips as he starts to thrust into you he understands one, simple truth.

You really are the sweetest lover who ever graced Heaven and Earth, and he’s so lucky to have you all for himself.

#voice of cassandra #record of ragnarok #record of ragnarok smut #buddha x reader #buddha x you #ror buddha #shuumatsu no valkyrie #snv smut #snv buddha

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2btheanswertothequestion · 1 year

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(The final part of November Paramedic; part 6 is here and the AO3 version is here. If you want to avoid the smut, you should read on AO3.)

Eddie's apartment is full of song, but for probably the first time since he moved in it's not metal.

Max sings This Old Heart of Mine with gusto, her attention glued to her fingers as they move on the fretboard. She's in an awkward position, sitting slumped and with her leg propped onto five pillows on the coffee table. An elastic bandage is wrapped around her knee. Steve was right – she did exacerbate the injury by walking on it, and had to spend the next three days on bed rest. The knee already looks a lot better, less swollen but likely still tender, not that she's uttered a peep about it. Today is the first day she's been up and running, though not without support. Since crutches is the uncoolest kind of mobility aid Eddie took it upon himself to dig out a cane from his closet for her to use. When he asked if she liked it, she said it was great for thwacking people; he assumes that means 'yes'.

On the other end of the couch, Gareth taps along on a handheld drum. Max felt like she kept losing the rhythm and wanted extra help. Eddie is certain she was doing fine, but hey, if it calms her last-minute nerves, so be it.

The song ends, the last note lingering in the otherwise silent room. Max heaves a sigh, guitar slipping from her grip as she relaxes into her seat.

Gareth is beaming with pride; Eddie feels it too. Approximately two months of practice led to this. Just two months! He knows that she's been diligent, but still – it's impressive. Damn, he has the raddest little neighbor.

He rests his elbows on the couch's backrest and pokes Max's shoulder.

"It sounds great. You'll do amazing tomorrow."

She nods, lips tugging into a sweetly pleased smile.

"I'm ready," she says. Craning her neck, she locks their gazes. "Are you performing too?"

"No. The stage will be only yours. Although," he pats the acoustic in her lap, "I will of course be there and make sure you treat DragonSlayer with the respect she deserves."

Max's eyes crinkle with mischief.

"She won't react to you ever again after I show her what real talented fingers can do," she says, wiggling said fingers at him, and giggles when he gasps like a Victorian lady at the implied vulgarity. Turning to Gareth, she asks, "Are you gonna be there?"

Gareth's expression crumbles.

"I can't. Something is going around at work and we're short-staffed, so I'm no longer free," he says miserably. "I'll come next time. You'll do it again, right?"

She smiles wryly. "Unless I crash and burn."

Eddie pushes off the backrest and rounds the couch. He hates to spoil the mood any more, but…

"Before I forget," he says, piercing them with an unamused look. He also tries standing with his hands on his hips, but there's no way he can convey the same bitchy determination Steve can with the stance, so it feels hollow. He crosses his arms instead. "You two need to stop conspiring against me."

They blink at him, baffled.

"What?" Gareth says.

"You've been trying to set me up with Steve!"

"Well, yeah," Max says. "But not with him."

"Yeah, not with her."

It's Eddie's turn to blink. Releasing a breath that shudders with emotion, he closes his eyes and rubs circles on his temples.

"You're telling me you've worked independently of each other this entire time?"

"Seems like it!" Gareth laughs, though the mirth dims quickly. "But… who's done the best job?"

They whip toward each other. Their postures are tense, bow strings drawn and ready to shoot. Flames of competitiveness engulf them. Weirdos.

Gareth points at Max. "I made them go on a date!"

"I made them go on two dates!"

"I'm the reason they got to know each other!"

Max scoffs. "Oh, please. As if I wouldn't have eventually introduced them."

"Would you?"

"Sure. They're both older brother figures I can't get rid of who're hopelessly single and into men." She shrugs. "Why not?"

Eddie gasps again, this time more like a grandmother who's been presented with an incomprehensibly scribbled drawing from her toddler grandchild.

"I'm an older brother figure to you?" he asks, bending down to Max's level, his tone patronizingly light.

She sends him a withering look and reaches for her cane.

"Well, they almost kissed on my date!" Gareth shouts.

Max’s jaw drops. She loses her grip on the cane but gains a terrifying intensity in her eyes. A chill runs through Eddie, the tips of his appendages tingling. This is the closest he's ever gotten to catching frostbite.

"What," she says flatly.

Eddie scrambles away, metaphorically and physically, in case she decides to smack him anyway.

"N-no, we- It wasn't- Our faces just- But we didn't!"

"But it was so close," Gareth says, fingers pinched and with maybe the fraction of a fraction of an inch of air between his thumb and forefinger.

"Huh." Max continues staring Eddie down like she's plotting his murder for keeping secrets. He's about to point out that he can't be set up with Steve if he's dead when she swivels back to Gareth. "I'm making them go on a third date."

"Wait, what? When?"

"Open mic tomorrow night," she says, like he's an idiot. The scrunch of Gareth's mouth indicates that he agrees with her.

"Shit." He pats himself down, in search of something. "What time is it? Where's my phone? If I text him now I can schedule a spontaneous hang-out for tonight!"

Eddie's eyes double in size.

"Woah, woah, woah!" he exclaims, hands raised and palms facing out, as if he's warding off wild animals. "You have Steve's number?"

Gareth pauses his search to tilt his head at Eddie, like he's a puzzle he can't figure out how to solve. Or maybe just like he's a huge fucking moron. "You're telling me you don't?"

Eddie clamps his lips together; fights the urge to fidget beneath their judgmental stares. Max slowly shakes her head.

"Dumbass. You need us."

Eddie makes an ugly face at her. "Shut up."

She tuts. "So aggressive. That's a symptom of sexual frustration."

"I'm not-"

"Remember: thin walls."

"They're not that thin! I never hear you!"

"Because I know how to keep my business to myself. And you've heard me practicing the guitar, haven't you?"

He has. Shit. He buries his face in his hands.

"Shit."

"That's right," Max says snippily. "I hear everything. Every. Thing."

"Oh," Gareth says. He squeezes her good knee, oozing empathy from every pore. "Oh, you poor, innocent girl."

She soaks it up, lamenting, "It's been awful."

"Yeah… But, um. You realize that if they get together, then… "

Gareth trails off as Max nods miserably.

"Yeah, I know. I'm resigned to my fate."

Eddie pushes the heels of his hands into his eye sockets until he sees stars. He needs friends who are less invested in his sex life.

Max leaves soon after, cane clacking louder than necessary against the floor. (Eddie suspects he might not get it back once she's healed.) She stops in the doorway on her way out. While smiling in a manner that makes him break out in a cold sweat, she tells him not to take his car to the open mic and to dress nicely.

And then she's gone.

Gareth harrumphs.

"She's planning something for tomorrow. Damnit. This is unfair, you know. She's known him longer; she can talk to and influence both of you in ways I can't. I'm at a disadvantage here."

Eddie, without replying, twirls on the spot and faceplants on the couch.

Gareth groans above him. "Oh, what is it now?"

'Same as always' is what he'd like to say. Instead, he saves his breath by rolling onto his side, curling up his legs, and giving Gareth a look. It must convey how he feels, because Gareth's irritation melts off, replaced with something gentle. He squats by the couch and brushes a stray lock from Eddie's forehead. A bit like how Uncle Wayne would when he still lived at home.

"Eddie, man, you don't have to be nervous. He likes you."

"That makes it worse," Eddie says, voice raspy and thick, and fuck, he's not going to cry over this, is he? Bawl when a boy doesn't like him is normal, not when they do. "He likes me now, but if he finds out I'm his obsessive quasi-stalker? Then what?"

"I think you're blowing this out of proportion," Gareth says. He starts scratching at Eddie's scalp; it's good enough to dry his tears and slow his pulse. "Max knows about the calendar and she doesn't mind!"

Eddie snorts derisively. "Because she's nineteen and doesn't yet understand how some actions can have terrible consequences."

Gareth frowns at that with obvious disapproval. "She's still an adult. For that matter, so are you and Steve? Just talk to him about it." He sighs. "Look, I don't think he'll mind so much that he'll never get over it. And if he does… it sucks. But you'll live. There are dozens of hot guys out there, waiting to be swept off their hot… feet." He pauses to snicker.

"You're so bad at this," Eddie whispers; Gareth snickers even more.

"You know why I've stuck by you all these years?" he asks once done laughing. "Why I even started hanging with you in the first place?"

"You had stoner aspirations and I zero qualms selling weed to fourteen-year-olds?"

Gareth flicks his forehead. "Because you're cool. And likable. And you make people happy when you're around. So go out there tomorrow night and sweep those hot feet!"

Eddie snorts. Then again. His diaphragm tightens, air forces past his pursed lips, and then his body shakes with laughter. Gareth is grinning proudly, of himself and possibly Eddie as well. He snakes his arms around Eddie's waist and pulls him so close the mirth rattles through them both. It takes an eon, but at last, the laughter abates. Eddie’s lungs are sore and his eyes are wet with happiness, and he's still got an armful of best friend clinging to him.

"I'll call you the day after tomorrow." Gareth punctuates the promise with a squeeze, before pulling back. "Lunchtime. And I'll expect progress. Okay?"

Eddie nods. "Okay."

Gareth beams, ruffles Eddie's hair, and then he too leaves the apartment.

Eddie turns onto his back and stares at the ceiling. He doesn’t sigh as much as make noise while gravity pushes the air from his lungs. He could fall asleep here, on this uncomfortable couch. Turns out guitar lessons, worrying, and funny friends deplete your energy.

Before his eyelids slide shut for good he drags himself up to brush his teeth and go lie in his real bed. He needs a proper night's sleep if he'll survive tomorrow.

He wakes up on Saturday having dreamt of Steve. He eats his breakfast while thinking of Steve. He replaces brake pads, rotates tires, and talks to clients while thinking of Steve. He returns home and showers off the sweat and oil while really thinking of Steve.

He also spends a lot longer than usual contemplating how thoroughly he ought to wash himself. Fate dictates that if he cleans as if he might get laid, he won't be. However, if he's perfunctory about it, he's more likely to score. Ultimately, he does an extensive scrub. Rather be presumptuous and get nothing than be unhygienic and get lucky.

Then comes the worst part: picking an outfit.

Max told him to wear something 'nice'. Jesus. 'Wear something nice', what did that even mean? Dress less like himself? Dress more like himself? Something skimpy? Or snug? He has those leather pants that make his legs look divine, but they might be too much. He doesn't want to look like he's trying as hard as he is. Also, he's going to an open mic in a coffee shop at seven in the evening. There will be high schoolers, retirees, families with children, and others present who do not need to see his dick imprint. 'No' to the leather pants.

But maybe…

The hangers clatter and screech as he pushes them aside. Sticking his arm far into his wardrobe, he then pulls it out grasping his other battle vest.

The one in leather.

He hasn't worn it out yet. It's only recently finished, and almost ended up looking too nice, too pristine. It's not really him, not the way his frayed and trusty denim vest is. But it's still a thing of beauty: band logos immaculately painted onto the leather and spikes adorning the shoulders, collar, and lapels.

It's fucking badass. Him, though a little nicer.

He pairs the vest with his tightest Metallica tee – the one with the sleeves shorn off and the neckline cut into a v deep enough to show both tattoos – and distressed, black jeans, rips over the knees and a big hole along the inside of one thigh. The retirees will just have to fucking deal with some exposed skin.

A crowd is thronging inside Connie's when he arrives ten minutes to seven. They've built a makeshift stage on one short side, crammed between the cream'n'sugar station and a huge monstera. Microphones, stools, and a keyboard stand upon it. All the café's tables are pushed to one half of the floor, letting people mill between them and the stage. None of them seem to be his people, though.

Eddie weaves through the crowd, scanning it for short redheads and tall hunks. Nothing… nothing… not-

"Eddie!"

He turns, coming nose to nose, like tip to tip, with Steve, who's… wow. Call him the moon and Eddie a wolf, because he's about to start howling.

He's wearing pants, not jeans, that hug his hips without being obscenely tight and a fitted, teal dress shirt. The sleeves are rolled up and the top two buttons left undone, allowing yet another tantalizing peek of the sculpted pecs beneath. Nice but not too formal, if you ask anyone. Positively edible, if you ask Eddie. His mouth is actually watering a little, which is a sign he's been staring for too long.

Lifting his gaze from Steve's chest to his face, he realizes he could've taken his time because Steve is also staring. At Eddie.

Steve's breaths are slow but deep as he bites his lip hard enough to dent it, tongue flicking out to soothe the mark. Eyes glowing like embers, he trails them over Eddie's body, threatening to set him ablaze.

Eddie's jeans are too fucking tight for this.

"Starting to worry you wouldn't make it," Steve says, low and gravelly.

"No, I just, uh, running a bit late…" Eddie says, faltering as Steve drags a finger along the lapel of his vest.

"Haven't seen you in this before," he murmurs.

"It's new. First time wearing it."

"Where'd you get it?"

"I made it."

Steve's brows jump. "You made it?"

"Make like one-third of my clothes and heavily alter the rest. Metal's all about DIY, baby."

Chuckling, Steve grabs both ends of the attached leather belt and opens the vest for a better look at the Metallica shirt underneath. He doesn't ask any questions about the band, thank God, because Eddie's brain is too liquid to answer. If Steve opened the vest a bit more he'd be undressing him. Or if he tugged at the belt Eddie would stumble into him, he's so off balance.

But Steve does neither; he closes it and lets go.

"I left the others at the table. C'mon."

The rest of them also look nice, Robin in suspenders again, this time paired with shorts, and Lucas in a black sweater-red jacket combo that reminds Eddie of all the cool boys he pined over in high school. Both of them gush compliments at the sight of his vest; their childlike enthusiasm is a pretty effective boner killer, phew. The only one not mentioning his outfit is Max – she's silently staring at the tablecloth, hands in her lap and head bowed.

"Hey, Red," he says.

She looks at him, eyes like clear ponds and her freckles stark against her white skin. It might be his personal bias, but she's the prettiest of them all tonight. Canary yellow t-shirt dress and oversized jean jacket, one shoulder artfully slipping down. Loose, wavy locks cascading past her shoulders. Barely chipped nail polish and glossy lips, but no other makeup. She's radiant.

And she's shaking.

He slides into the chair next to her.

"You're still ready?"

Max nods.

"You know, I still feel like puking every time I perform."

"Yeah?" she breathes.

"Yup." His fingers encircle her wrist, squeezing. "You're gonna crush it."

She smiles tightly.

"Do you want us to film it?" Robin asks. "To show your mom?"

Max's first reaction is a frown, which evaporates at the mention of her mom; then she nods so hard she's indistinguishable from a bobblehead.

"Yes!" she says, and that's the last bit of conversation between them, for the next second the lights dim and Connie ascends the stage to announce the start of the open mic.

It's three hours long, with fifteen performers given ten minutes each, plus a few for getting on and off the stage. Max is number eight, which means she'll have about an hour and a half to sweat before it's her turn. And maybe she does manage to sweat it out and dry off, because when her time comes she strides up with the poise of a seasoned veteran.

A café worker helps her up and adjusts the mic for her. She hooks the cane on the stool and situates the guitar across her lap – one of the younger audience members shouts "Dragon!" to everyone's amusement. Once the laughter stops, she puts her mouth to the mic and emits one stuttering breath.

"Hi," she says. "My name is Max, and I'll be playing two covers and one song I wrote." She giggles as some onlookers whoop their approval. "All three are dedicated to one person here tonight. He knows who he is."

Then she plays. It's the best fucking thing Eddie has heard, not just tonight, but ever.

Her voice is strong, her rhythm is perfect. When she pauses for breath her expression defaults into a blinding smile. She breezes through The Isley Brothers and Stevie Wonder as the crowd claps along. Eddie manages to tear his eyes from her only once, to view the others' reactions. Robin tries to hold her phone steady as she sways in her seat, Steve is misty-eyed like a proud dad, and Lucas…

Lucas sits slumped forward, chin pillowed on his hands, pupils huge and dark. Lovestruck.

After You Are the Sunshine of My Life she takes a breather, sipping from her bottle of water. There's a shift in the air; the audience settles, mood sobering. When she resumes playing, the notes are softer, slower. A melancholy made bearable by her warm tones.

Max's song is about a happy then and an uncertain now. It's a song about guilt and regret. About apologizing and vowing to improve. About past loss and about future hope.

Above all, it's a promise.

It strikes like a blade through Eddie's chest. He shouldn't be hearing this. None but three, or maybe just one, of the people in here should. It's not for their ears, because they can't ever truly understand. It's too personal. Yet, she plays it for them. Tearing open her flesh and breaking her bones to show them. Listening to this is a privilege.

Her last note is a tattoo – covering up those before her, impossible to erase by those following her.

Max smiles and bows, again like a pro. As the café erupts into deafening applause, Lucas shoots from his seat. Appearing by the stage, he extends his arms to her. She hooks hers around his neck and lets him lift her down. Smiling at each other, they rest their foreheads together like they're the only ones in the room. Shit, perhaps they are.

They walk back to the table with Max's cane underneath Lucas' arm, she using him as her crutch. Arriving, the first thing she does is ask Eddie:

"How was it?"

He schools his expression.

"Red. I'm ditching my band. From now on, you and me – duo."

She boxes him in the shoulder, the shine of her smile rivaling a star.

The rest of the open mic is nice, even though the highlight is over. Still, live music is live music (and leaving in the middle would've been unacceptably rude), so they stay until Connie closes the night by thanking everyone present and encouraging them to come back next time.

Outside, they stretch their unused limbs until their joints pop, then walk a few blocks to Steve's car. It makes sense for Eddie not to have taken his van, he tells himself. The BMW is big enough for all five to sit comfortably, and he'll save on gas. Still, there's a disappointment pooling in his gut, because this means Steve will drop off Lucas, Max, and Eddie at their places before driving himself and Robin home. It's not a bad thing! He has yet to figure out how to breach the subject of the calendar. But… getting some more time to talk to Steve without amateur musicians drowning out the words would've been nice.

(This is what he gets for being so thorough in the shower.)

"Well," Robin says, hands clasped behind her head, as the BMW beeps unlocked. "I'll see you guys later."

"Where are you going?" Eddie asks.

"Steve and I live just past that building," she says, pointing. "So, I'll walk while he drives you guys."

Oh.

The disappointed pool freezes. Eddie swallows thickly. This is fine. It means nothing. Steve will drop everyone off and then go home, as planned.

He gets shotgun. Really, it's given to him because Max and Lucas commandeer the backseat, snuggling up on one-and-a-half seats while DragonSlayer claims the third. Eddie doesn't mind in the slightest – not when the kids are so close they're basically on top of each other, slotting together like a pair of puzzle pieces. Watching them separate when they arrive at the apartment complex will be devastating.

Except.

They do not go to the apartment complex. They go to a neighborhood Eddie's never been to before, parking outside a two-story house. So, they're dropping off Lucas first, then Eddie and Max, and then Steve will go home. Just as planned.

"I'm staying with Lucas tonight," Max says. "The DragonSlayer is all yours, Eddie."

She slams the door shut, the two of them walking up the shingled pathway hand in hand.

Steve hums pleasantly. "I think that did the trick – they're an item again. About time, don't you think?"

"Uh, yeah, yep, sure took them long enough, yeppers," Eddie's mouth says with negative input or permission from his brain.

Steve grins before pulling out, shirt straining against his arm as he turns the wheel and holy shit, Eddie is alone in a car with Steve!

Is everyone conspiring against him?!

Steve makes small talk during the drive, recounting which songs he recognized, sharing his favorite performances, asking for Eddie's more knowledgeable opinion. Eddie responds to the best of his abilities, which is to say 'poorly'.

When they stop by a red light and Steve absent-mindedly undoes the third button on his shirt, Eddie’s mouth dries up and he stops responding altogether, fearing his tongue will crumble to dust if he tries. If Steve is put out by Eddie's conversational skills reducing to various affirmative noises, he doesn't show it.

Finally reaching the complex, Eddie resolves to at least croak a 'thank you for the ride'. But when he turns to do just that, Steve is already looking earnestly at him with his large, honeyed eyes.

"It's really nice of you, teaching Max to play. Thank you."

"Oh, 'twas nothing." Eddie clears his throat. "She's a good student."

"I'm curious: is there a difference between acoustic and electric?"

"Not really. Electric is a little easier, 'cause they're smaller and the strings are lighter."

"Acoustic sounds better, though," Steve says and laughs at Eddie's answering grimace. "All right, maybe not to the metal master," (Eddie stifles a gigglesnort; what an adorable dork), "but to a common listener, such as myself, acoustic is nicer. You can try to change my mind if you want, though."

"By… playing both for you?"

"Yeah."

Eddie gulps audibly. "N-now?"

Steve's smile is almost too wide for his face. He cocks his head, a lock of hair falling into his eyes, who are gleaming like gold in the light of the nearby street lamp.

"I'm not busy."

Eddie leads them up the stairs to his fourth-floor apartment. Their steps echo in time with the drumming of Eddie's heart. His grip on the DragonSlayer is unyieldingly stiff, lest it slides from his clammy palm.

This is fine. Steve is going to listen to him play and then go home, just as planned.

Like the building, the locks are old; his key jams and needs to be rattled before the door opens. He lets Steve in first, then closes the door behind them. Steve waits patiently, back to the wall and chest inches from Eddie's. Has the hallway always been this cramped?

Eddie turns to fumble around for the light switch, breath hitching when Steve touches his shoulders. Grasping the vest's spiked lapels, he pulls it off Eddie's frame and hangs it on the coat rack. Next, he grabs the guitar – warm, dry skin brushing Eddie's – and props it by the doorpost. Last, he looks at Eddie, his eyes searching, searching, searching…

Disregarding his sensibilities, Eddie nods.

Steve kisses him.

The force of it sends them stumbling, Eddie's back slamming into the wall. Their mouths smush together and their noses bump; for a moment it's too hard, too much. But then Steve angles his head, their lips melding, and it's perfect. Like silk sheets and rose petals, like champagne and chocolate truffles, like summer nights and meteor showers.

Steve mumbles something about waiting, about wishing, about finally. He's touching Eddie everywhere, chest pinning him against the wall, hands running up and down his arms, thigh pushing between his legs. His hard cock pokes against Eddie's groin, and it feels so thick.

All of Eddie's nerve endings are lighting up, sending tingles to converge in his belly before shooting back out to his limbs. He has no regrets. Everything he's done or that's been done to him was worth it, because it led to the best fucking kiss of his life. Steve will have to keep him after this – exposing him to this kind of touch only once would be cruel.

It's gentle, is the thing, but with the passion of a thousand lovers. Steve cups his face, tipping it, thumb caressing his cheek and fingers rubbing circles in his hair. His lips, soft but determined, parts Eddie's for a quick taste that leaves him wanting.

Eddie tries chasing, but Steve withholds – fucking teases – and goes back to nipping and licking. Rolling his hips until Eddie gasps, then slipping in his tongue to stroke the roof of Eddie's mouth. Then he starts over again, repeating the cycle until Eddie is whining, his knees so weak he slumps onto Steve's thigh.

Grabbing hold of his ass, Steve hoists him up. Eddie squawks, legs automatically wrapping around Steve's waist. Steve grins, juuuust on the wrong side of smug, and steps away from the wall, carrying Eddie like it's nothing. It would be infuriating if Eddie wasn't too busy wondering if, and if so for how long, Steve could fuck him like this.

"Bedroom?" Steve asks.

"Yeah, it's, uh, through there," Eddie says, pointing in what might be the right direction.

Then he yanks Steve's head back by his pretty hair and swallows his moan. Because with Steve's hands occupied, it means Eddie can do whatever he wants. And what he wants is shove his tongue as far down Steve's throat as he can.

It takes them a while, but they reach the bedroom. Steve deposits them on the bed, bringing them from vertical to horizontal in a smooth slide without breaking the kiss.

Eddie wraps tighter around him, wanting to feel him everywhere and always. Alas, Steve disentangles them with a chuckle. He sits up so he's kneeling, legs spread, Eddie's thighs resting on top of his. A hungry glint in his eyes, he undoes one more of his buttons, then forgoes the rest by pulling the shirt off like a sweater and flinging it aside.

Eddie wastes no time touching him, groping the firm pecs and caressing the soft belly. The coarse hair tickles his palms.

"Fuck me, you're perfect," he murmurs.

Steve giggles, pink blooming on his face. Coaxing Eddie's hands off him, he arranges his limbs on the bed, and Eddie lets him – he can do anything as long as he does it shirtless. He smooths his hand over the Metallica logo, pretty much petting his chest, before rucking the shirt up to Eddie's chin. Steve's eyes are black, more pupil than iris; he thumbs at the tattoo on Eddie's ribs.

"I was hoping you'd have more," he says. His other hand slides across Eddie's leg, fingers ghosting the edge of the large hole before one slips inside, tucking between the denim and the skin of Eddie's thigh. Eddie gasps; Steve smiles. "How much do I need to take off to see all of them?"

"Why don't you find out, big boy?" Eddie says, breathless but grinning, scooting closer to rub his ass on Steve's dick.

Steve rips off Eddie's shirt, tosses it where he tossed his own, and crashes their lips together as he unbuckles Eddie's belt.

Eddie hums into the kiss. It's perfect. Steve is perfect. The whole thing is as if out of a dream. Jesus Christ, it is straight out of one of his fantasies. The only thing missing is… is…

The uniform.

Fuck. He can't do this. Not like this. Fuck.

Eddie breaks the kiss, gently pushing Steve away.

"Eddie?"

He shakes his head, eyes screwed shut. Looking at Steve right now is impossible – the shame will consume him. He shouldn't have let it go this far.

"Eddie? What's wrong?" Steve asks. "Please, I-"

"There's something you gotta know." Eddie forces his eyes open. The least Steve deserves is to be looked at while given the truth. Also, this is the first and possibly last time Eddie will see Steve on top of him. He should savor it. "I haven't been completely honest."

Steve's eyes dim. "You're married."

Eddie goggles. "What? No! Shit, I've never had a relationship go past the three-month mark. No, it's… Um…"

He sighs. Here comes the music; time to face it.

"You know that calendar you did? Gareth told you his mom had it?"

"Yes?"

"He lied. It's mine. I have the calendar." He inhales deeply, then lets it all out in one fast gust. "I recognized you the first time we met and I thought you were so hot and Gareth thought we should try finding you at the university and we did and then we hung out and now, uh, now we're here."

Steve blinks owlishly. "Oh."

"Yeah. I've jerked off to your picture for two and a half years and I thought you should know." Eddie rubs his eyes; they're burning, and his nose is clogging. Shit, not now… "So, um. If you want to stop, if you never want to see me again, I understand. I'm sorry."

"It's fine."

"It- Huh?"

Eddie's jaw slackens. He gawks up at Steve, who calmly meets his gaze. But it can't be this easy. It's never this easy, not for Eddie.

"S'fine." Steve shrugs. "Was that all?"

"Uh. Yeah."

"Good."

He dives back to resume the kiss, except this time it's hotter, dirtier, Steve licking behind his teeth and sucking on his tongue so Eddie's toes curl. He yanks Eddie's jeans and boxers down to his thighs, Eddie's cock springing out. Steve grips it, but doesn't stroke or squeeze – just holds. Eddie starts rocking into his fist and oh, oh, it's so good but not enough. He's so hard his head is spinning and he needs Steve's hands and his cock and he needs he needs he needs-

"Eddie," Steve says into Eddie's mouth. "What d'you want me to do? Tell me."

"Mmm, I want… Fuck, I needed you inside me two years ago."

Steve licks a wet stripe along his throat. "Whatever you want."

Then he sits up and flips Eddie over. Eddie grunts at the sudden movement, but his cock between his stomach and the mattress feels heavenly, and Steve parting his ass cheeks is even better, so he's not complaining.

He's especially not complaining when Steve leans down, rubbing his nose against Eddie's tailbone.

"You're okay with any part of me inside you?" he asks, breath warm on Eddie's skin.

Eddie groans. "Yes. Anything! Just touch me!"

Steve does, dragging the flat of his tongue from Eddie's taint up to his hole.

Eddie keens, burying it in the pillow due to those damn thin walls. It probably doesn't help, because he's being loud. He usually is, but not like this. Turns out Steve's tongue is amazing no matter where he puts it. He swirls it around the hole, laps heavily against the rim, slowly loosening Eddie up.

He writhes and moans, cock leaking precum on the sheets. Jerking forward, he humps the mattress for two sweet, relieving seconds before Steve grabs him by the hips and holds him in place. He would've griped about it if Steve hadn't immediately plunged his tongue into Eddie's hole. But Steve does, so Eddie screams instead.

Fuck the walls, he's having the time of his life.

He has been rimmed before, two or three times, but not this intensely. He hasn't been fucked by another man's tongue. Because that's what Steve's doing, lips on Eddie's ass and saliva dripping down his taint. He's as far in as it can go, tongue thrusting and stroking and… oh. Oh! Oh, fuck-

Eddie jolts, despite being held down, because Steve just flicked his tongue tip against someplace sensitive. He whines, begging Steve to do it again. Steve laughs, the sound reverberating through Eddie's ass, and does as told. And again. And again.

He flicks. Eddie screams.

He flicks. Screams.

Flicks. Screams.

And Eddie's on fire. His legs are shaking, his insides are thrumming, the pleasure courses and courses in electric waves and shit, did he just come?

"Holy shit, I think I just came," he says, fingers cramping where they've clutched the covers.

Steve pulls out with a slurp.

"Oh, cool," he pants. He crawls up the bed, his hard cock dragging a wet trail on Eddie's leg. "D'you wanna take a break or keep going?"

Eddie groans. What kind of a fucking question is that? His cock is still hard, and Steve's cock is hard, and Eddie is reeling from the best orgasm he's ever had, and does he want to keep going?

"Steve…" he says. "If you don't fuck me now, then I'll… I'll… " He trails off, slurring.

"Yes," Steve says, catching on anyway. "Okay. Yes."

He sounds wrecked. Glancing over his shoulder, Eddie is met by perfect hair in disarray, cheeks flushed and blotchy, a chin glistening with drool, and Steve's wild, ember eyes. Assured he's not the only one losing his mind, Eddie thumps his head back on the pillow. Bending his knees, he pushes his ass into the air and reaches back to spread his cheeks with his own fingers.

"Then hurry up, big boy," he croons, index finger circling the spitslick rim. "Before I do it myself."

Steve laughs, high-pitched like he's drunk. He fumbles for Eddie's lube and a condom he brought, thank fuck, because Eddie only has expired ones.

Lying on top of Eddie, Steve aligns their arms and interlocks their fingers, and pushes in. Eddie whimpers, because as loose and cock-starved as he is, Steve is huge, the tip alone wrecking his already sore ass. Steve shushes him gently, brushing away sweat-damp curls to plant a soft kiss at his nape. He rocks slowly, squeezing Eddie's hand and rubbing his hip, until the stretch gets better and the pain eases.

And then they fuck. Or maybe 'make love' is a more fitting term, because they hold hands during most of it. And sometimes, Steve will ease off, going so slow and sweet it borders on edging, drawing high-pitched noises from far down Eddie's chest. Then, once satisfied, he speeds up again, fucking harder while whispering compliments into Eddie's skin.

He makes Eddie come two more times, by fucking him and by jerking him off. At least, Eddie thinks that's what happened when he wakes up some hours later. He got a little delirious with pleasure at the end, though, so he's not a hundred percent sure.

He yawns and stretches. It's dark out, but the blinds are open and light pours in from the street lamp that for some reason had to be positioned right by his window.

"That light is the worst," Steve mumbles, burrowing into the pillow.

"Hmm, yeah. But I don't have to have my own lamp on. I save on electricity."

"Economical." Steve laughs, peeking up from the bedding. He's beautifully rumpled, bathed in shadows and light. "How d'you feel?"

"Awesome… did you clean me up?"

"Kinda had to – you passed out. I'm not letting you sleep with come crusting all over you," Steve says, nose scrunching.

"Not my fault. Blame your cock!"

They laugh again, together. It's nice. But it would've been nicer if there wasn't still one tiny thing nagging in the back of Eddie's head.

"Hey," he mumbles. "When you said… that the stuff with the calendar was fine, did you mean it? Or was your judgment clouded by horniness?"

Steve snorts. "'Course I meant it. I don't mind."

"Jesus."

"Do you want me to mind?"

"No. It's just that I've been putting off telling you about it because I was afraid you'd be upset. It's pretty creepy."

"Yeah, but…" Steve props his head onto his fist and shrugs one shoulder. "I guess it would be creepier if it were someone else. But it's you, and I like you, so… it's just flattering."

A grin stretches across Eddie's face. "You like me?"

"Uh, yeah." Steve rolls his eyes, but his face is also splitting in half. "Don't you like me?"

"I do."

Eddie winds his arms around Steve's waist, pulling him in for a kiss.

"I thought so," Steve says after their lips part. "I just didn't know how much – if you wanted to just fuck or if you wanted something more. Max was hinting you wanted more. And your friends seemed too invested for you not to want more. Then Robin told me 'he definitely wants more'. So I knew it was safe to go."

"Christ, dude, I like you so much I've given myself ulcers worrying you didn't like me back!"

"Sorry," Steve says unapologetically. "You can stop worrying."

They embrace, trading chaste kisses as they snuggle. Alternating between whispering nonsense and drawing patterns on each other and simply looking, unabashed and unhurried.

Then, Steve pulls away with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

He asks, "So where do you keep that calendar?"

Eddie's heart and stomach leap, trading places and knocking every other organ off course. He lunges at Steve, coiling around him like an octopus and trapping him to the bed.

"Nooooo!"

Steve guffaws. "I'm not gonna look for it! You'll have to tell me where it is."

He cocks his head at Eddie, sweet, innocent, evil. Eddie groans with the vigor of an annoyed pre-teen. Releasing Steve, he points at his desk.

"Top drawer."

Steve flies up, rummaging through the drawer before Eddie can blink. Whooping in triumph, he holds the calendar in front of himself and begins flipping through it. Eddie pulls the comforter up to his nose to hide his blush.

"April is missing?" Steve asks.

"The model was a cop."

"Ah."

Steve reclaims his spot on the bed. He's reached November and is scanning the photo with an approving smile.

Eddie grunts. "Are you admiring your own photo?"

"So? It's a good picture." Steve smirks at him. "I know you agree."

Grumbling, Eddie hides completely beneath the cover. This is what he gets for being honest. He's never telling the truth again.

"What do you say about me fucking you while wearing the uniform?" Steve asks.

Eddie throws off the comforter and catapults into sitting.

"We can do that?"

"Sure," Steve says easily, like he didn't just turn Eddie's world upside down. "Unless…" He leans in, lips hovering over Eddie's. "Unless you want to fuck me while I wear it?"

They don't fall back asleep until hours later.

(In fact, they sleep in until 11 am, when Eddie's alarm goes off. Gareth calls by lunchtime as promised, but Eddie misses it. He's too busy getting fucked against the shower wall.)

"You're not allowed to break up," Max says later that day, during their guitar lesson. The open mic might've passed, but she needs to learn more if they'll perform together. "It'll be awkward if you're exes. I won't be able to hang out with Steve if you're next door – I'll have to move."

Eddie smiles. He should point out they're not really together yet; that they've only barely started dating. Instead, he says:

"We won't."

And he can't explain how, but it's as if some higher power whispered all the answers to him while he slept in Steve's arms and he knows, he just knows, that he's telling the truth.

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

Thank you for reading. You're the best.

Oh, and I realize that I introduced things that excited a ton of people (such as Eddie meeting everyone else), so I might have to write a mini-sequel where that actually happens. Not now, though. Later.

Tag list: @rougenancy, @raisedbylibrarians, @yourebuckingkiddingme, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @emma77645, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @eddielives1986, @stevesbipanic, @the-redthread, @fandemonium-takes-its-toll, @henderdads, @gay-little-bitch, @lenore1232, @zerokrox-blog, @eddiemunsonswife, @cherrycolas-things, @ediewentmissing, @princess-eddie, @atombombbibunny, @ajamlessbaby, @dogswithforks, @grimmfitzz, @cutiecusp, @cuips-not-cute, @manicallydepressedrobot, @messrs-weasley, @madaboutmunson, @mightbeasleep, @suikatto, @brassreign, @snapshotmaestro, @courtjestermunson, @csinnamon-fox, @spectrum-spectre, @spinmewriteround, @just-super-fucking-gay, @escapingthereality, @oneweirdcryptid, @deehellcat, @misticageri, @lovelyscot, @linkydinky06, @rynnytintin, @anything-thats-rock-and-roll, @theysherobinbuckley, @freddykicksasses, @winterbuckwild, @sideblogofthcentury, @subparbrainfunction, @pemsha

#eddie: max is only 19 she's too young to know stuff #gareth who is 1 measly year older than max: 👁️👄👁️#stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #steddie #steddie fanfic #steddie fic: november paramedic #eddie munson #steve harrington #gareth stranger things #max mayfield #lumax #my writing

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phrandallanton · 25 days

Text

ranfren headcannons

I've done everything but posted headcannons and a fanfiction. This won't do. Here's some headcannons of mine! All of them aren't serious so don't take them that way d(>_･ ). Feel free to ask me about any other headcannons I'll definitely give more!

Randal

• if he has any pimples on his face he definitely picks at them untill they pop

• either is really good at math or sucks at math and hates it. (No in-between)(leaning towrds sucking at math more)

• has tear stains on his homework sometimes

• he bathes everyday dispite what people think. (Luther forces him too)

• his hair gets really oily. He has tried to cook with the oil his hair produced once. Nobody ate dinner that night.

• if he's frustrated and you go to poke him he'll scream on top of his lungs, but like the scream that goes from normal yelling to banshee screeching. "stop touCHING MEEEEĚĘƏƏ!!!!"

• gets in a lot of internet arguments about things that don't matter at all ("I think you'll find it's 'whom'.")

• he'd get so mad if he ask you to hold his glasses, and you proceed to carelessly get your fingerprints all over them.

• draws with those "how to draw anime" guid books.

• if he ever took a driving test, he would have already failed the moment he opens the car door.

• loves kraft mac and cheese, double points if it's in shapes of popular marketable characters.

• now thinking of it, if he was a pasta dish he would be kraft mac and cheese.

• bites his toe nails off (gross) Luther tried to get him to stop but he probably does the same thing when no one is around.

• sneezes weirdly. Like..."ah...ah...AH CHOOwoowoowoowoo..." and shakes his head. Or if he's covering it in his elbow it'll sound like a trumpet horn.

Luther

• he can dance but it's weird.

• if you tell him a joke he'll turn it into a life lesson.

• he wins every staring contest. However if your eyes start watering he'll get worried and start begging you to blink.

• treats women (and everyone) with so much respect, but he won't hesitate to punch a women if he really has to.

• *shakes his indext finger* "no no no"

• Randal probably tried to set him up on a blind date, he didn't like that. It was very awkward to say the least.

• genuinely gets happy when there are bagels at the function.

• when asked for advice, it'll sound like he's going to say something really meaningful and life changing, but then does a complete 180. "Oh, you think your ugly? Well people will have their opinions about you and ...well... you aren't the best thing to look at. But there's worst out there ♡."

• I can see him gobbling up some cheese and broccoli.

• has a walk in closet filled with clothes and accessories he doesn't wear.

• he 100% definitely has the goofiest giggle in the planet.

• eats ice cream with his front teeth.

Nyon

• I will stand by this till the day I die, he's really funny. He has a really good sense of humor. But I could also seem him not understanding jokes too. But at the same TIIIMMEE I feel like he'd be naturally funny.

• he knows lots of slang and pop culture due to watching TV a lot and probably quotes stuff in his head. (Maybe out loud if he was talking to you)

• has a lot of opinions, will never say them out loud, even when asked.

• he's the smartest out of everyone, including Luther.

• easily amused. please give him one of those little fishy nightlights. He'd enjoy looking at it so much.

• he's good at card games and Nyen doesn't like that. (Nyen has stabbed him over games of uno)

• has a really funny looking smile. (There's that one drawing in the Christmas comic where he's smiling weird after he saw Luther's reaction to the fire place tape he made for him)

Nyen

• listens to death metal but then listens to a jpop song right after. ("Can't let gang know I fw this")

• good at math, sucks at reading.

• loves hearing about drama and will be nosy.(come on man he loves Judge Judy and romance novels)

• sounds like Tom from Tom and Jerry when he yells.

• he calls himself "The Tom Cat" and (canonically) "Top of the pets in the house hold" which is practically the same as "I'm the alpha" so he's probably has said that.

• sucks at card games. Will legit end up with half of the pack of cards in his hands in the middle of an uno game.

• actually the weakest of them all. (I won't go into all that right now. But I can definitely beat him up in a fight, just sayin.)

•him and Nyon probably have times where they stay up and chit chat for a bit before they sleep, Example (from my old notes I had):

Nyon high on weed:...why do we call oranges..oranges...but we don't call apples...reds..??..

Nyen:....sh*t...you got a point... does that mean we would call lemons: short yellows and bananas: long yellows so it doesn't get confusing?...

*they then discuss this for an hour or so*

• Snores really really LOUD. Sounds like a car.

• oddly very ticklish I bet.

~~~~~~

That's all I have now. It's 2 in the morning and I'm falling asleep. I might write other characters headcannons later.

"I'm going to sleep" -bop it

#ranfren #catmen #luther ranfren #luther von ivory #comic #web series #nyon ranfren #Nyon #nyen catman #nyen ranfren #Nyen #randals friends #randal ivory #ranfren randal #headcanon #Ranfren headcannons #i need to sleep now #yawn

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heartfullofleeches · 1 year

Note

Imagine Miller doing a subbathon with yan chat except instead of donating bits to keep the stream going, they’re donating bits to see Y/n. Y/n is just sitting there next to Miller reading a book or something whilst they play a game and anytime the counter runs out because chat didn’t donate Miller juts kinda, throws a blanket over them or something until someone donates

A shadow appears outside your tent.

"Mind if I come in? Looks so cozy from here I might not leave.. Ow, ow, shit- not again." Setting up for the stream, Miller pokes their head through the curtains of your enclosure to attach a mic piece to a hanging frame, cerulean dreads snagging on the velcro latch in the midst of their playful banter. They mutter expletives, since as they tear their locks free. They crawl inside the tent and tap the mic overhead where you lay with a book in your lap and surrounded by a small library filled with more novels and other items needed for the duration of your stay. When Miller told you they'd be pulling out all the stops for your new corner - they meant it.

The whole idea for the space came when they discovered the very foundation for it online. They had mindlessly scrolling through various forums looking for ideas to make their room feel more of a home for you when they came across a frame for a floor bed fashioned in the design of a small house. It went in their cart that second and on their doorstep a day later. After gutting one side of their floor and setting the bed up, Miller fit it with your favorite sheets and pillows. They strung up mood lights and installed shelves into the walls for your trinkets. By the time they were done, the area was more decked out than their entire apartment. A fair act given who it was for. You warmed up to it well enough and that's all they could ever ask.

Miller grabs the remote for the lights and turns them up. "Quiet read in the dark unless you want eyesight somehow worse than mine." Their voice softens the closer they get until their lips graze your cheek. "You good to start?"

"Mmm...." You pull the blanket trapped beneath their knees over your lap. "Now I am."

Miller smiles. "Good. Remember, just turn off the cameras if you can't handle the attention. There's one there, there, and obviously here-" They point around the room, stopping on the front facing camera of your laptop. "And you have my card if you want order something to eat while we're live. I'll check on you in about an hour. Be good."

Miller nabs the pillow cushioning your elbow and lightly smacks your knee with it before backing out of the tent. They place it behind their neck as they sit down at their desk and adjust their headphones over their ears. Waking their monitors up, they find the feeds from your cameras on one and the scheduled stream on the other. Right before they tune in, Miller presses a kiss to the pads of their fingers and places it on the screen where you sat. The curtains draw back.

"Saw that!"

Miller hushes you, wiping the snicker off their face as the stream goes live. "Hey, guys. As some of you may know if you follow the community page, we have a special stream today."

They eyes the chat as you get comfortable. You yawn, laying on your side with your book in hand.

[I'll take your entire stock.]

[So glad I got paid yesterday. How are they so freaking cute?!]

[If someone gives a certain amount can they read to us too???]

[Alexa, what's my location]

"Your first mistake is thinking I'd have one of those things. Your second is not realizing we plan on moving every two years. You can watch them all you want, but it's best you remember Y/n is my partner. Cross any boundaries and I will take them away just as easily as I have shown them off to you.... but I'll still send pictures from the wedding!... Baby, you doing okay?

You hold your finger over your laptop's camera, reading the flood of messages and donations from your phone. "They absolutely hate when I do this.... but I think it works in our favor."

#yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere insert #yandere headcanons #yandere x you #yandere blurb #yandere drabble #Yandere streamer #yandere oneshot #Miller my oc

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electrosair · 11 months

Text

Where do they like to kiss? dendro + electro ver.

english isn’t my first language, sorry for mistakes

characters: al haitham + baizhu + kaveh + tighnari + cyno (separate)

word count: almost 1k

Al Haitham

Top of the head.

Somehow or other he has to show that he's still the cool guy, so he won't give you a lot of kisses or affectionate caresses in front of people. But once it's just the two of you, things change.

I was sitting on his lap, head buried in the hollow of his neck and half asleep, focusing solely on how his chest expanded and sank with each breath in rhythm with mine. He held a book in his hands and his eyes moved from left to right, reading every word and occasionally letting out little murmurs. He closed the book abruptly, perhaps unhappy with its contents, and I jumped at the noise. "Oh, sorry." He said in a soft tone and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me closer to his torso. "You can go back to sleep." He sketched out a small laugh and pressed his lips against the top of my head, ruffling my hair slightly.

Baizhu

Wounds.

Hear me out, I know this probably sounds very typical or very weird or both at the same time. But for some reason my head only sees it possible for Baizhu to spend all his free time poking you in the scrapes and bruises so they 'heal faster'.

His work shift was over and we were relaxing quietly, ordering some new products that had just arrived at the pharmacy and talking about the day when he saw a previously unseen wound on the skin of my arm. "When did you get it? Let me see." He asked and dropped the jar of crushed herbs on a shelf, taking my wrist to closely examine the bruise. I quickly explained that it was a simple knock with a door, but Baizhu was adamant that it needed to be treated, not at all for the fact that he loved the feel of my skin under his touch. "Does it hurt much?" His fingers caressed the bruise on the outside of my arm and when I nodded slightly he brought his warm lips to it.

Kaveh

Cheeks.

Okay, but Kaveh getting upset about his job? Why do I feel like he would come back to you for a lot of comfort after a day with really annoying customers? He'd ask you for advice only to have you say one sentence to him, light up his own light bulb and shower you all over the face with kisses.

I was already tucked up in bed and Kaveh had not yet arrived home. The sounds of Al Haitham's footsteps stopped quite a while ago and the worry began to grow on me, only then the door opened and the noise returned to the house. Kaveh appeared through his door frame, looking drunk as he propped himself up so as not to fall. I jumped out of the sheets to go hold him down and sit him on the edge of the mattress, questions coming out of my mouth as I tried to check if he was okay. "Customers are insufferable, not like you." He mumbled vaguely, his arms gripped me tightly and he leaned me against his own body. I tried to speak again, but he cut me off before I could. "Oh, I should have thought of that before, just having you here does it for me." He laughed and kissed my cheeks quickly, still drunk and slid over to scribble something in his notebook.

Tighnari

Forehead.

This man is too sweet to exist, he would try to give you a single kiss, maybe as a goodbye, a peck or something but he would just convince himself that it's not enough and kiss your forehead (or anywhere else) as well.

I could see him gathering his stuff in a backpack for today's expedition, he said something about a strange plant throughout the day yesterday but I didn't pay much attention to him from the moment he uttered the phrase 'it's too dangerous for you to go blah blah blah'. Once everything he saw as necessary for his outing was inside the green bag he approached me, that typical face that even if I asked him on my knees he wasn't going to let me go. "Before you ask, no." I rolled my eyes, holding back a small laugh and nodded my head. "Well, I'll be going now then, I'll be back in the evening." He left a kiss on my lips and headed for the exit of our cabin but before he left he turned on his own heels and ran up to me again, leaving a kiss on my forehead.

Cyno

Legs.

This definitely sounds weird, but let me explain. I'm 100% sure Cyno would take you on some missions with him and you'd come back in pain from all that walking, so there's nothing better than kisses to relieve.

I kept my eyes closed as I groaned lying down, my calves felt more sore than usual and I knew perfectly well that tomorrow I was going to have a stiffness that wouldn't let me walk, but still I didn't plan to let Cyno down once I told him I would accompany him, at least for this week. "Is something wrong, do you want to rest?" I merely pointed to my legs, looking at him with abandoned puppy dog eyes, maybe I'd get him to give me a piggyback ride or more rest time. "What does that mean?" he asked and crouched down to my height, running his hand down my legs gently as he inspected. Noticing my expressions of pleasure as he massaged, he smiled and began spreading kisses all over my exposed skin, getting giggles from me.

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thewulf · 4 months

Text

For That Long? || Aragorn

Summary: Request -Hello! 👋 Your work is absolutely amazing! Especially your Aragorn fics (My King! 🗡️👑❤️) In fact, whenever works best for you, here’s an idea: During the victory celebration at Helm’s Deep, the reader (also a Dunedain Ranger) offers a quick dance lesson for Aragorn to a) enjoy the celebration with him and.... Read Rest Here

A/N: Thank you for the sweetest little request anon! I had too much fun writing this one. I love trying to get into his head. Keep sending amazing requests my way! And thank you for you kind comments!

Pairing: Aragorn x Reader

Word Count: 3.5k +

TW: fluff?

“Not like that, Strider.” You giggled something fierce as he tripped over his own feet for the umpteenth time that night. Somehow you had convinced him to dance with you after quite literally decades of trying to get him as your partner.

“Have I not already told you how hopeless this is, Callia?” He asked you by your chosen Ranger name. You had to abandon Y/N when you left home all those years ago. If you were captured you must never give up your true name for your family could bear danger to your chosen work.

“You just need to relax yourself. Your mind.” You poked his forehead while grinning from ear to ear.

He sighed, “I cannot keep making a fool of myself in front of…”

You stopped him by placing his hand on your hip catching him most off guard, “My King overthinks.” You whispered as you took a soft step towards him. He smelled good. Like of the woody scent he naturally had but even better.

“I am no King.”

You smiled more to yourself than him, “Not yet. But the people have decided. It be but a mere month and you shall be.”

“It does not feel right hearing you call me that, my lady.” He countered while raising his eyebrows right up waiting for your retaliation.

Trying your best, but failing, you made a face in reaction, “You know I am hardly a lady.”

He hummed. Not even realizing you had begun to lead him you kept talking trying to rid his mind of the thoughts that plagued him. For if there was anybody who knew Strider better than himself it was you. Time had a way of making your heart the softest for him and truly only him. Countless sleepless nights of diving into your worst nightmares and trauma would find a way to bond the two seemingly hopeless souls.

“The opposite is true.” He smiled down at you with a look you had rarely seen from the hardened leader. You had been away from him longer than you wished. He had told you to go to Minas Tirith after getting orders from Gandalf to help the Hobbits of the Shire. You had heard the story of the great Bilbo Baggins and now apparently Strider had to accompany his nephew, Frodo. He had told you to go to Minas Tirith and wait for his word.

That had been six months ago. You had gotten used to life without him how odd it may seem. You had made a few friends that you probably never would have had Strider joined you. It was terribly uncomfortable. Your simple life changed when you had gotten word from him asking you to join him in Rohan. He knew something was coming and needed all the help he could get.

“A lady does not count her kills.” You spoke breaking the comfortable silence between the two of you. A shift occurred as he had taken control of the dancing now. Your easy banter all but freeing his mind from his thoughts. Dancing wasn’t so bad. Especially if he got to hold you like this.

“By your definition.” He smirked down but dared not look into your eyes for he knew he would cave to any of your demands, “Not by mine. And did you not say I was to be King?”

You fought every urge in you not to pinch his side, “You are impossible.”

“Do you not refute, my lady?” His smirk only grew as he noticed your face fighting the urge to react. It was amusing watching you try and stay neutral. For he had missed this. Sure, it was not only the two of you dancing but it had felt like it. You had a way of taking his mind off of whatever he needed. You had always seemed to have known what he may have needed.

“It is no use in arguing with you, Aragorn.” You gave him the eye letting him know you were not over the little secret he had kept from you for so long. You had only found out of the name when Legolas shouted it on the battlefield almost costing you your life. It had left you stunned. Who was Aragorn and why had Strider reacted as if it was his name.

Because it was. He had apologized profusely before you finally gave in. Leading you to this moment with him. You had finally convinced him he needed to learn how to properly dance since he was to be the king. And lucky for him you so happened to know many dances as your mother had insisted a girl your age to learn them all those years ago in Dúnedain.

An amused smile crossed his features as he led you across the dance floor. Maybe he was not so pathetic after all, “It is not like you, Callia, to bite your tongue.”

“Hush you.” A laugh escaped you. It was no use trying to hide your own amusement. Yes, he pushed you, but it had also shown you how much he too cared for you.

He slowly stopped the two of you from your dance before replying, “You are most fortunate the music has ended."

A quick nod left you head as it spun out of control by his soft touch and daring words, “Most fortunate indeed.” Begrudgingly you took a step back knowing the moment between the two of you had ended.

But his words had stopped you from turning all the way around, “I will stop teasing you if you lead me in another dance. For I must learn. I do not wish to embarrass you.”

You only grinned before stepping back into his hands, “You could never embarrass me Strider.”

Your eyes glistened with unshed tears as you took in the breathtaking room before you. Stifling a laugh, you couldn’t truly believe you had made it here with him, alive and in one piece. Your truest and oldest friend crowned the King of Gondor. How you would never have believed this only three years prior. You watched as royalty and common people alike danced with joy and glee for their newfound leader. Aragorn. It felt the most surreal as you watched him mingle with people that mattered. A King. Who would’ve thought. Glancing down at your nearly empty glass you sighed knowing you had to make the walk back to get another drink.

But you never made it as you were intercepted by nonother the man you were watching far too often that night, “Strider!” You smiled trying to play it off as nothing as his broad hands covered the length of your forearm with ease, “You best get dancing. You have many eyes on you, my King.” You grinned with ease knowing calling him such made him uncomfortable. You truly had known him as Strider for as long as you could remember. You’d met as teenagers in your youth, kids from Dúnedain.

Your fathers were friends keeping you close together often until he went off on his own. When it came time to leave you had heard Strider was a Ranger. Having a feeling you’d run into him again you weren’t surprised you were assigned to his company not long after you left home to find a purpose. Just like him. In a lot of ways, you were the same. But in so many different.

For the last sixty or so years the two of you became something of a menace in the North. Something to be feared. Always working as a team, the two of you always seemed to come out of battles unscathed.

He grumbled in response to the title name you had used on him, “I have told you not to call me that. It does not feel right hearing those words from you. Strider will do.”

You smiled seeing how you managed to get under his skin with such ease, “Strider is too informal. May I call you Aragorn at least?”

“I think Strider is perfectly formal. But you may call me as you see fit. So long as it is not, my King.” He smiled right back at you. Even he had to admit how nice it was seeing you so at ease. He had roamed the North for nearly sixty years with you. He had never seen you so relaxed. He was sure he had seen you smiling more tonight than he had in the past sixty combined. You smiled like that bright eyed teenager who had an obvious crush on the older teen. It was times like these that made him wish he had told you how he had felt the same. He had longed for you for so long in silence. He had a duty to uphold. But now? Time was different. He needed somebody on his side. He had always known that somebody was you.

You bowed just knowing it would push his nerves further, “As my King wishes, I shall only refer to him as Aragorn.”

His mouth dropped at your brazenness, but he should have known better. He was convinced you were placed with him was to keep hm grounded. You had a certain way about you that had him acting his very best, “Y/N.” He let out an audible sigh letting you know he was annoyed.

“Strider.” You raised an eyebrow as if to challenge him knowing that name was now obsolete in your vocabulary. He was Aragorn now. You could get used to it.

He looked to the dance floor before turning back to you, “Would you join me in a dance?” He held his hand out for you to take giving you your favorite impatient face. It was your favorite thing to do after all, push his buttons.

Your smirk turned up into a genuine smile, “This is a pleasant change. I would be honored to join you in a dance, Aragorn.”

“Are you going to choose a name Callia?” He grumbled as you placed your hand in his. His smile never faltered even though he pretended to be most annoyed by you. It wasn’t lost on your how gently he wrapped his hand around yours before nodding his head to the nearly empty ballroom floor.

You giggled more to yourself knowing how annoyed he was with you. Maybe you should stop winding him up. It was almost too much fun to stop though, “Am I not allowed to interchange two of your many names?” You followed along his lead down to the center of the empty floor.

He stopped once he had found a place good enough. Placed one hand over your hip and one behind your back, “Hands on my shoulders.” His voice dropped nearly an octave as he gave you a simple order. A shiver ran down your side at his touch. This was new for you as well. Sure, you had found him ever so attractive, but he hadn’t the slightest interest in you. Everything was platonic as could be between the two of you. So, you had backed off and kept it cool knowing nothing was ever going to happen.

You did as he wished and wrapped your hands around his neck, far more intimate than you had intended but you were committed now. It would be almost more embarrassing to unwrap yourself from him, “You did not answer my question.” You spoke trying to rid your mind of overthinking this situation you had seemed to find yourself in.

He gave you a grin as his eyes trailed all over your face, “I was only playing with you. You may call me as you please.”

Before you could answer the music started forcing your concentration of following his lead. It was impressive how quickly he had picked up on the steps of the dances you had only taught him only a few times a month ago. It had been a little over a month after the Celebration of Helm’s Deep after the hell that was the battle.

You were almost upset when the music had stopped knowing his hands would soon leave you. It was not right to have these feelings for such a longtime friend. Let alone the King of Gondor. But how could you not? He was Strider the great Ranger of the North. He was Aragorn the leader of the Fellowship. He was the King of Gondor. He was everything.

Fortunate for you he hadn’t move his hands from your waist even as the music stopped, “I do think I should call you Aragorn. It suits your stature. You have outgrown Strider.”

He bowed his head before slowly bringing his eyes up to yours, “Then Aragorn I shall be, my lady.” He was smirking now knowing how much you too loathed the high title he had seemed to start calling you.

With a frustrated breath your eyes narrowed at his, “If you shall call me my lady, then I will call you my King.” You too didn’t enjoy how the high title rolled off his lips. You were anything but a lady even in the dress you protested but had been convinced of.

He let out a breathy chuckle as he finally came back to his senses and let his hands go of your waist. You feared to admit how much you had enjoyed his touch and closeness, “I suppose that is fair, Callia.”

Stepping forward to straighten his collar you could only smile up at him in adoration, “You look very handsome tonight. Who knew you cleaned up so well?”

He took your hand in his once more, “It took a fair bit of work. But I must say, it is you who shines the brightest tonight.”

He had never complimented you so forthright before it drew a small gasp out of your very own mouth, “You are most kind to me. Thank you Aragorn.” You were suddenly thankful you had put some makeup on. You were praying it was covering up the sure-fire pink tint that was bound to be covering your cheeks.

He watched as you turned away from him, “You must get back to your advisor. He looks very weary over in the corner.” You tried a good excuse to walk away from him. He was suddenly becoming too much even for you.

“Wait,” You stopped and turned back to him with that subtle blush coating your face. When you stopped he continued, “Come take a walk with me. I wish to talk with just you.” His darting eyes let you know people were listening, always listening in now that he had such a high title.

“As you wish.” You followed him as he left the hall as discretely as he could.

The two of you had made it all the way to the gardens before he had spoken once more, “I want to thank you, Y/N.” By speaking your true born name, you knew this was serious. There was no playfulness of my lady or the knowing name of Callie. Y/N.

You had no clue where this was coming from. Truly, you rattled your mind for further thoughts before you gave in, “Whatever for?”

He smiled as he led you down the path of roses he had grown fond of in his short time here, “For always being there for me. You have shown up for me time and time yet again.” He paused taking your hand in his before placing a gentle kiss on the back of it. Had he no idea what he was doing to you?

“You are my truest friend.” You answered honestly after a few long moments of trying your hardest not to cave into whatever was taking over your mind. He was your friend! Only a friend. That is all he had ever wanted. He was simply thanking you for the journey. That was all. One chapter of your lives had closed and the next was to begin. You had to wonder where you would end up. In the capital being a guard? Roaming the woodland realms for danger? Head home and care for your aging parents? The choices were endless for your new life.

He let out a short laugh, “For that you are. May I tell you something?”

“Anything.” The response was so automatic it almost took you by surprise.

“If not for you, I would not be here.” He spoke quickly.

It took you much longer to process those words, “What do you mean?”

“If I had not known you would always be there I would not be king.” He smiled as his eyes traced your nervous face. You were truly the most beautiful woman he had ever known. How had he gotten so lucky with you? And by any other stroke of luck, you would accept his next question that had been weighing heavily on his mind.

“I am not sure what you mean Aragorn.” Your heart rate sped up just a tad as he stepped back from you. He fished something out of his robe pocked. Your eyes went wide as he held an old relic. A beautiful ring covered in gemstones.

“You have always been there for me Y/N. I fear nobody could ever take that place. I wish nobody to take that place. For I am the happiest when I am with you. Those last six months have not been good for me. But now that I am back with you I feel whole once again. There is no lady that could take your place Y/N. For your place is next to me.” The last words to come out of his mouth almost came out as a whisper for even he was nervous. The mighty King of Gondor afraid of some feelings he had almost his entire life. Oh, how his father would be laughing now.

Your heart rate kicked it up another notch. It felt like you had been training it was racing so fast, “Forgive me, I fear I am not enough…”

He stopped you this time though by placing a gentle finger on your lips, “I wish to not hear you speak poorly of yourself. For I do not respect those words. I will never believe them. I do know your entirely Y/N. Please, do me the honor of letting me court you.”

Your breath had been taken from you now, “You like me?” You had managed to get out feeling oddly faint.

“I love you.” He said so effortlessly you weren’t sure you had him quite right.

Your eyes turned up to his as he stepped closer to you, “You love me?”

A quick nod came from his head as his eyes bore right into yours, “I do.”

“I love you, too.” You spoke back before you could let your thoughts get the better of you.

His hands moved to your cheeks as he held you in his own, “For nearly seventy years I have yearned to hear those words from your lips.”

“For that long?” You asked in bewilderment to his statement. How had he kept it from you with such ease? It amazed you he had managed to be so stoic when you had been so obvious. Why had he fought it for so long?

He did what you least expected and bowed down to you, slowly. He had made sure you knew his intention, “I may not have always been wise to it but indeed. I have always loved you.”

You nodded quickly, your smile beaming brighter than ever before. He was sure that was his new favorite look on you, “Yea.”

“Yea?” He asked you as confirmation.

“I accept. I would be honored to stand by your side Aragorn.” Before you could bow to him he caught your chin in his hand shaking his hand to let you know that would be most unnecessary.

“You are doing me the honor.” He fastened the necklace with the ring on your neck tucking it underneath the top of your dress. His hands trailed down your sides resting on your hip for longer than he should have. He needed to take a step back or he would kiss you. Not that you wouldn’t let him, no. He was sure you would be more than happy about it. He simply wanted to charm you before he kissed you. He would not rush into this with you. For he had taken nearly seventy years to admit how he had felt. What was a little longer?

“You made it, Strider. You did it.” You brushed his wavy hair away from his face knowing that would be the last time you referred to him as such. From here forth he would be Aragorn. And you would wed him. How a life you dreamed of had come to fruition was beyond you.

He shook his head grabbing at your hands once more, “We made it. We did it.” He spoke of all the wishes the two of you spoke about in your many long nights. The dreams had seemed to come truer than either of you could have imagined. It almost didn’t feel real.

You nodded with nothing but love in your eyes, “Indeed, we did it.”

Permanent Taglist (Message me or comment below if you want to be added!) : @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @hardballoonlove @rosiahills22 @djs8891

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starillusion13 · 4 months

Text

MINE TO KILL (Teaser)

Pairing: Royal! Yunho x f! reader (ft. Wooyoung)

Genre: Royal, Mature, Enemies to (?), Smut, Angst

W.C: ??? [1.5k (this is only for teaser)]

Warnings: mention of - to kill someone and threats (all the rest warnings will be in the main plot.

Network: @cultofdionysusnet @k-vanity

Note: Thanks for reading and reblogging. I appreciate all of your reviews and feel free to text me if you want. Spread love to others, not hate. I love Yunho when he is angry and guys finally I have identified my bias in Ateez I think it’s Yunho😃 dw it will change in my next fic lol

"And you thought I won't notice?"

You flinched to the sudden dark voice from the stairs. The ceiling lights and the lamps had a warm radiant but those lights were still piercing on your skin. As if the hatred inside you was adding to the heat of the lights.

Your piercing eyes reflected the shining light of the light chain decorated on the railings. You gripped the glass tighter in your hand, feeling the anger rising in you to watch him descending the stairs.

He should slip a step and fall from the stairs in front of you. You scoffed mentally.

The boots hit to the marbled stairs slowly, the walk was slow, too slow to let you hear each sound of his boot precisely and clearly.

Your glares directed towards him made his corner of the lip to tug upwards slightly. He watched you intently and noticed your slight fear which you were trying to hide it but still couldn't.

At this point, the grip on the glass could have broke it easily but somehow it didn't break.

Maybe like the hatred inside you was enough to burn him but the slight fear was more powerful to hold it back.

"Why are you here?" You hissed.

He eyed the glass in your grip and walked forward to stand a bit too close to your liking. you were glued to the ground where you were standing. you wanted to run away but still something inside you was forcing you to face it, face him like the royal you are. are you strong enough? maybe not. he is more powerful than you. both in morals and money.

"If I say...for you?" he said and leaned forward to inhale the perfume. he hummed near your ear, "same sweet smell. It always remind me of the night. don't you miss that night of us?"

"Never. why can't you just forget about it?"

he chuckled and stood straight, "oh it's too perfect and interesting to remember. how can I just let that sweet moment slip through my mind. I am carving it on a campus to make it remember even if I have amnesia one day."

you gritted your teeth and raised the glass to throw the wine at him but he was quick to get a hold of your hand and took away the glass from you. you glared at him but he just smirked at you and brought the glass to his lips, maintaining an eye contact with you. you could hear some people passing by the passage through, outside the main door of the hall in the backyard of the palace. you glanced to the direction of the door and hoped someone to enter so that you could escape his grip because your strength was nothing to his.

the voices became distant and the hope inside you died down with the rising of the bubble of the little fear.

"I hope you soon have the amnesia and so that I can kill you by myself." you wiggled your hand under his grip.

he ignored you and asked, "did you drink this yet? did your lips touched the glass?" He swirled the wine in the glass.

"why? will you drink from it now?"

he poked his inner cheek and smirked widely, "oh! I am craving for the lips from that night and if you don't give me the honor to devour them again then I have to do it in this way."

"Yunho, mind your words." you threatened him only to get a loud laugh from him. he threw his head back and amusedly watched his grip on your wrist. the image from that night flashed in front of his eyes. the same way you were whimpering under this hold and begging to him. He could feel something inside him stinging, might be the hatred for you.

"But you loved every words from me when I was choking you." He cocked an eyebrow and smirked.

"Please stop it."

"And if I don't?" He loosened his grip on your wrist and as soon as you stepped backward, he harshly grabbed your arm and pulled you towards him. "Does Wooyoung know about this?"

"About what?" You hissed at him because the grip was leaving red marks on your arm and the rings in his fingers were pressing on your skin.

The touch was filled with hatred or love?

It's visible that it's all about the hate for you.

"About us? The love we shared that night. The way I made you feel good." He leaned to your level to whisper into your ears, his breath hitting your nape and you shivered, "the way I marked you mine. When in the first place you were always his."

"There is nothing called us. That night was a mistake. Don't talk about it again. I don't want Wooyoung to know about it. And I am never yours."

He sipped the wine from your glass and closed his eyes, humming in the taste of the liquid. You watched him in disgust. Gulping down the glass, he noticed your glare.

He paused to stare at the door and when the voice of the person on the other side became distant and he noticed that you were distracted.

He threw the glass across the room and glared at you. You flinched to his sudden action and his grip tightened.

"y/n...y/n...y/n..."

He sang your name and his voice and the name coming out from his mouth sent a shiver down your spine. He noticed your little gulp and harshly turned you around and flushed your back against his chest.

"Y/n and Yunho...isn't our name fit nicely together?" He darkly chuckled in your ears. His one hand grabbing your arm tightly and the other placed on your throat. The hand was caressing the skin around when he suddenly squeezed it.

Your choking sound made him smile widely and in satisfaction he whispered, "it will be so fun to kill you, y/n."

You scoffed, "is that a threat?" and gritted your teeth.

He chuckled amusedly, "why? Does that sound like a compliment?"

He loosened his grip around your throat, you coughed out and took deep breaths but he held you against his body.

"Leave me, Yunho."

"I will only leave you when I will kill you."

He gripped your jaw and made you face him. His glares were strong, his muscles tight against the jaw and neck and the gritted teeth hissing at you.

"Then kill me."

"Y/n. Y/n, where are you?" Wooyoung's voice echoed around the place and you both could hear it. You broke the stare with him and looked towards the door when the door was pushed open.

Yunho changed your position quickly and placed his hand on your cheek and other still holding your arm. Smiling at you and you stared at him in confused silence.

Why is he suddenly acting like this?

Wooyoung entered the hall and found you with Yunho, he smiled at your form who was held by his brother. You both were facing side to him. Yet to notice his approaching steps towards you.

“There you are my love. What are you doing here, y/n? That even with Yunho?” He was smiling all the way and when he reached near you, you pushed Yunho’s hand and hugged Wooyoung, burying your face into his chest.

Wooyoung smiled and patted your head in his embrace and with confusion, he looked at his brother.

“What happened to her?”

Yunho chuckled, “she lost her balance in this dress and her glass fell from her grasp so I was just helping her out.”

Wooyoung nodded and felt your hug tightened around him. You clutched his coat tighter and closed your eyes in anger.

These brothers were always different from each other. Even this day, Wooyoung was in red attire representing his love and passion for you. Whereas Yunho in black attire radiating luxury and power in elegance shooting towards you.

“Are you okay, y/n?”

You nodded to his question and he urged you to stand straight. He told his brother that he would like to leave the place with you to spend some time and his brother nodded. He guided you towards the door and you followed him with your hand entangled with his and looking down. You could feel a stare burning hole on your back but you didn’t look back.

Yunho’s eyes followed till you both exited the door and took a turn. As soon as you were out of his sight, he grabbed his hairs and harshly brushed it back in annoyance.

“I will kill you, y/n.”

He clenched his jaw and glared at the way from where you left with his brother.

“Always remember that you are mine.”

He exhaled heavily and clenched his fist where his knuckled turned white and the palm was almost flushed red with slight edges of the nails digging into his skin.

“Mine to kill.”

T.B.C.

[READ HERE]

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bri-the-fando-meister · 1 year

Text

You're Safe With Me

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

Minho x reader female

Summary: Minho is out on a daily run to map the maze and he finds a girl trapped in the maze, on her own, with no sign of how she got there. Minho takes her back to the glade, and looks after her for her first night.

Word count: 1950

Read time : 13 minutes

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Cool rock on your face, littered with debris. Nice and relaxing coolness, want to sleep. Dust filling air, hard to breathe, want to cough, dry throat, can't cough. Constant thump, distant and mesmerizing. Loud breathing, mine or someone else's?

"I want sleep, but where am I?" you croak, burning your throat as you speak. You opened your eyes.

Walls, tall and ancient , ivy covered walls, three walls surrounding you, one long corridor. Trapped, your chest felt tight and you found it hard to breathe.

You got up and walked toward the end of the corridor and saw two exits, you took a step back, hide.

The thumps got louder, closer and closer. And heavy breathing followed it. Someone was there. Who. Maybe it's a person.

I should check. But I am scared. I should check. My chest is tight again.

Dizzy, spinning walls, the dirt is flying. Must. Check. Now. Sit down before I fall. Yell out, now sitting, I am safe.

"Help me! Where am I?" you croaked half yelling.

"Who are you, where are you? How did you get in here? I am going to find you." a voice replied.

"O-ok"

"just stay where you are." it ordered

You were sitting too close to the entryway of your corridor. So that's when he saw you and you saw him, he kind of, almost, maybe ran into you.

He lowered his body to match your height and reached one of his arms to you and placed his hand on your shoulder, you flinched.

"Hey, it's okay. You're okay. You are safe now. Let's get you out of here and get you some food and water." the boy spoke gently "You are safe with me."

He hooked his arm over your shoulders and using his free hand, he held onto your hands.

"It's okay, you are safe, I promise"

"I get that I am safe but, but are there more of you? Like, more people?"

"Yeah, there are more people, they are all great people."

"Okay then, keep them away from me. By the way, what is your name?"

"My name? Minho. I am Minho"

"Okay Minho, I don't want to meet your friends."

You stopped walking, you understood he was taking you to them.

"I know that you are scared, but please, you need to keep moving. How about you, what is your name?"

"Y/n"

After an hour of walking and being dragged, you had arrived to a point where there was a break in the walls, leading out to a grassy square, filled with boys running about, working.

You hid around a corner, "No, I am not going." It didn't faze Minho as he walked into the grassy place and yelled.

"Alby! I am back!" a boy came running to Minho

"Newt, where's Alby? I need to show him something"

"Sorry Minho, he can't come, he is dealing with something important at the moment."

"Okay then Newt, if you say so. You are going to want to see this."

Minho began leading the boy assumably called Newt to your location, you told him you didn't want to meet anyone else.

"Minho, NO, I told you I didn't want to meet your stupid friends"

"Minho, who the shuck said that?"

"Ahhh, does Alby's important business have something to do with no greenie being in the box when it came up?" you poked your head around the corner to listen in.

"Yeah....."

"Well, Newt. I found our greenie in the middle of the maze." He gestured foy you to come to him.

"Come on darling, it's okay. This is Newt, he is really nice. Remember, I promised that you would be safe with me." Newt waved.

You began to slowly walk to the two boys, when you got there you grabbed Minho's arm and hugged it closely for comfort, he looked down at you and swilled a warm smile.

"Minho, I want you to come back with me, I feel safe in there, come back with me." you began to tug his arm, but his tall muscular build made it impossible to move him. After giving up you just walked back into the walls, Minho followed. Newt yelled to him. "Minho, you have like, 30 seconds to get out."

"Look, you need to get out of here, it isn't safe in here, you could die on your own."

"Minho, Get out now!" Newt yelled

"I am sorry, but you have to move"

"10-9" Minho picked you up and began to run "8-7-6-5" a few meters left to the grass "4-3" A giant gust of wind "2" you fell out of Minho's arms and landed on the grass "1" BANG!

"You still want to be in there now? You could have died for shuck sake. What were you thinking?" Newt was yelling at you. You began to cry, you didn't like yelling.

Yelling hurt, you couldn't quite connect the dots but, you remembered when you were yelled at, you would get hit.

You cowered, bracing for impact through heavy sobs. "Please don't hit me. Please don't. Don't hit me. Don't yell. What did I do wrong. I am sorry. Just hit me."

You cried so hard and found it hard to breathe, "Just hit me already, I am used to it. Sorry for being a burden."

When you didn't get hit you decided to see what was happening, so you turned your head. When you turned around you saw Minho having a go at Newt because of what he did. Newt pointed at you and spoke to Minho "You might want to talk to her, calm her down"

"Hey, hey. It's okay" he sat down on the grass with you, you were curled up in a loose ball so he wrapped himself around you. Giving you a warm hug.

"Do you want me to just be here, or do you want me to comfort you?"

"Both." you said, in broken sobs "I don't think that I like Newt."

"I get that you might not like him but, he was yelling out of concern, you could have died today, and he was very worried about you."

"I know, I, I just remember that whenever I got yelled at, I would be hit until I couldn't feel it anymore. Yelling hurts, I don't like it"

"He is sorry, I already talked to him, he didn't know that that triggered you."

"Okay, it was just a bit scary."

"I know, it's okay now. I promise, you are safe. Also, meet Alby, he is our leader."

"Hey there greenie, I see you have already made close friends with my best man."

"How long have you been watching?"

"I have been standing there since I heard you bawling your eyes out. Sorry about Newt, he was just really worried about you, he always is worried about the green-beans. By the way, what's your name?"

"Y/n, that's my name."

"Well then Y/n, we are going to need to find you some sleeping arrangements, it is already dark."

"Okay, where can I sleep?"

"We have some huts, some of the guys already sleep in them, the most important ones at least. Lucky Minho has one. And we have some hammocks outside the homestead. Your choice."

"Minho, can I sleep in your hut? I can take the floor if you want."

"Uhh, sure. If you really want to, I will take the floor though."

"Well, Y/n, now you have sleeping arrangements you'd be best to go have a sleep, you have had a rough day. We will need to talk in the morning so we can set a few boundaries."

Minho helped pull you up off of the ground.

"Let's go, I will show you my hut." he smiled so warmly that you couldn't help but calm down a bit.

He hooked his arm around your waist and walked you away to his hut.

"Here we are Y/n, this is my hut, just let me unlock it" he fumbled around his pocket for his keys and finally fished them out. when he unlocked it you got a strong smell of woodiness and a bit of boy funk, but it was quite comforting.

The room was about three meters by three meters, not too big but big enough to have his bed and chair in there.

He pushed the chair into the corner and placed a sleeping bag on the floor. He made the bed and pulled all the sheets back into place and put the pillow back on the bed. It wasn't much but it was his hut, it had bits of paper strewn everywhere and had notes scrawled on them.

He pointed to the bed "Sleep, you need it"

"But, what about you, you don't need to sleep on the floor."

"I can sleep in the sleeping bag, I say you sleep on the bed, so do it."

You got into his bed and curled up under his covers. The smell of them were so comforting. You couldn't sleep though, you felt too vulnerable, you could be hit while you were asleep, nightmares could come.

After what felt like hours of tossing and turning you finally gave up trying to sleep, you were too scared.

"Minho, are you still awake"

"Yeah, what's up Y/n? To busy wanting to talk to me than sleep hey?" Minho was half-asleep, he spoke groggily, he sounded like he was drunk.

"I can't sleep, I am too scared, I don't want to be here."

Minho got up and sat on the end of the bed.

"Look, you need to go to sleep, it isn't healthy being awake for too long. What can I do to help you sleep?"

"I don't know, I don't feel safe, what if Newt comes and yells again, and hits me this time?" You sat up. "I don't want to be alone."

"You aren't alone Y/n, how about I sit next to you until you fall asleep. Do you think that would help?"

"O-ok. Thanks"

"Would you mind scooching over though, so I can sit next to you."

"Yeah, sure." you shuffled over so that you were a bit closer to the wall.

Minho stood up and walked towards your end of the bed and sat down, well actually, more like he fell. "Sorry Y/n, just tripped on my shucking rubbish"

He pulled the covers off of you and shifted his body down so that he was lay next to you. Then he pulled the covers back onto both of you.

"Thanks Minho, I, I just don't feel safe here, or anywhere. It's like I am missing something."

Minho began to fiddle with your hair.

"You know Y/n, I think that you are overreacting. And you also need a hug"

Minho forced his arm under your back and pulled you into his warm chest, embracing you, comforting you. "Remember, I told you that you are safe with me"

"Minho, thankyou, thanks for making me feel safe, making me feel like I am worth it."

"Anytime Y/n, but maybe next time, do what you're told, you could have died today, if it weren't for Newt, I wouldn't have gotten you out in time."

"He's still scary though" you mumbled, groggily.

The warmth of Minho's chest was comforting, soothing and relaxing. You were in just the right spot to listen to his heartbeat, it was almost as mesmerizing as his footsteps when he was running.

"Y/n, I understand that, but I will keep you safe, I will protect you. so go to sleep now, I will too, I am already too comfy to go back to my sleeping bag."

You chuckled.

"Okay Minho, goodnight" then you were out like a light.

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

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prettyniji · 2 years

Text

authors note: aaa my first post !!!! hello i am maia and i love silly vtubers so i decided to write for them ! feel free to request anything anytime ૮₍ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ₎ა also im too lazy to learn the html stuff so my post doesn’t look as fancy (╥﹏╥) and i wrote this all on my pc so i hope it doesnt look silly on mobile ......

all writing is mine and mine only !! no reposting ,,, this isnt proofread very well sorry for any mistakes hehe

characters: vox akuma; mysta rias; ike eveland; luca kaneshiro; shu yamino; shxtou

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗ luxiem + shoto needy for attention ˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

ʚɞ vox akuma ʚɞ

i can’t decide if vox would be stubborn about wanting your attention or he would just annoy you till you give him what he wants ....

he would definitely either ominously stare at your from across the room until u ask him what’s wrong, or he would contantly poke your cheeks until you look him in the eyes, in which he then just give you the biggest, cheekiest smile you’ve ever seen he’d be like (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

if you were sitting on the bed on your phone and he had just finished up a stream or playing a game, he would definitely do that cliche thing where he just sighs over and over again until you sigh yourself, look over at ur needy boyfriend and reluctantly ask him what’s wrong.

he would only sigh again and tell you how his partner is paying more attention to their phone than him !! despicable right ? :((( how dare they !

OR ! if he’s feeling extra pouty and stubborn he would try to do anything possible to put aside his neediness, playing games with shoto, tweeting weird 5head tweets, but eventually he would get impatient (with a decision he made...) and flop beside you on the bed and lay his head on your lap

he’d grab your hand and force it towards his head, forcing you to play with your boyfriends long hair and fall asleep as you braid his hair, making him realise it would be a lot easier if he just asked for attention hehe (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟ

more under the cut !!

ʚɞ mysta rias ʚɞ

the fox-like detective would be another one to refuse to ask for your attention, but unlike mr voice demon he’s not stubborn, he just wouldn’t want to bother you :((

even if you weren’t doing anything in particular, mysta would still not really want to bother you, so you would have to be the one to approach him. it wouldn’t be hard to notice when mysta’s feeling needy, as he spends a lot of time staring at you, and instantly looking away when you make eye contact with him. he also sits next to you with a sligh gap in between you, fidgeting with his hands trying to form a million plans in his head trying to find ways to make you give him some attention (⸝⸝ᵕᴗᵕ⸝⸝)

when you eventually notice his nervousness and neediness, doing any simple thing such as grabbing his hand or pulling his head to lie on your shoulder, will make him let out a sigh and mutter a “thank you”

pls treat him right and give him the attention he needs 24/7 he deserves it (❀❛ ֊ ❛„)♡

ʚɞ ike eveland ʚɞ

i can imagine ike being slightly open about being needy for your attention, however he wouldn’t outrightly say it. he would find ways to constantly touch you, such as sitting closer to you than normal and laying your head on his lap as he reads.

ike will have just finished up a long drinking stream, the alcohol in his system making him feel extra warm and cutesy, wanting to be held in your arms (୨୧ ❛ᴗ❛)✧

he would stumble his way towards your shared room to find you lying in bed, and he could already envision cosying up next to you and feeling warm and fuzzy from your undivided attention.

however, unfortunately for the poor novelist, whatever you were looking at on your phone (he was too jealous to look..) was slightly more important than your tipsy boyfriend. \(๑•́o•̀๑)/

ike, now glaring holes into your poor phone, laid his head on your shoulder, his cheeks warm to the touch, and buried his head into the crook of your neck

if that wasn’t enough to grab your full attention, what else was he supposed to do rather than grab your phone and aggressively sit it somewhere behind him on the bed (he didn’t care where, as long as he got your hand in his hair hehe)

the second you let out a laugh and wrap your arm around your slighly dizzy tipsy boyfriend, you feel him sigh against your neck and plant a small kiss against you (୨୧ᵕ̤ᴗᵕ̤)

peace at last for the drunk novelist !!!

ʚɞ luca kaneshiro ʚɞ

our big mafia boss is just about the biggest cuddle bug around around would not be afraid to jump into your arms whenever he feels he hasn’t had enough attention from you ( ๑ ˃̵ᴗ˂̵)و ♡

if you were slighly busy with work on a laptop or something, he would lather himself all over you like a koala and whine about how much he wishes he was your laptop in his next life so he could lie on your lap peacefully.

he’d bury his head in your neck so far you could smell his shampoo, and place kisses all over your neck trying his hardest to tickle you to make you give him the tiniest sliver of attention

big scary mafia boss would wrap his arms around you and slowly close your laptop like a cat that’s hoping you don’t notice him (very obviously) dramatically closing your laptop —ฅ/ᐠ. ̫ .ᐟ\ฅ —

when you snuggle into his hair asking what’s gotten him so cuddly, he simply whines “babyyyyy you haven’t paid me any attention to me on my day off!! if it’s my day off that means it’s your day off too” /ᐠ. .ᐟ\ฅ

and if you somehow resist the cute mafia boss you must have all the strength in the world to turn down his puppy dog eyes .... because i wouldn’t be able to i’d jump to give him all the attention in the world hehe

ʚɞ shu yamino ʚɞ

the cutest sorcerer in the world would probably start feeling needy after playing games on stream for a while, but he’s not the type to end stream because of his neediness. why would he when he can just make you come to him? ( ˶ˆ꒳ˆ˵ )

shu knew you were doing your own work in a different room so he’d text you to bring all your stuff into his room, not replying when you ask why

when you quietly enter his room hearing him talk to his chat, you see a space next to his desk that’s been obviously cleared to fit all of your work, and a chair sat next to his.

smiling like a dummy at your boyfriend clearing his desk mid stream just so you can sit next to him, you sit and immediately see him judge how far your chair is from his, and pull you closer to him.

STILL smiling like a dummy your try your hardest to go back to your work but cant find the ability to focus when your boyfriend woke up today and decided to be the cutest man on earth, his hand tracing random shapes on your thigh and his shoulder touching yours.

as soon as shu finishes up his stream you decide you can spare some time to give attention to the most cat-like sorcerer in the world, who immediately turns to you and gives you the brightest smile you need to look away before you go blind ପ૮๑ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ๑ აଓ

“are you almost done love? do you wanna watch some movies when you’re free?” and it’s impossible to say no to your boyfriend who looks like hes about to jump out his seat the second you say yes <3

ʚɞ shoto ʚɞ

this boy is the human reincarnation of a puppy,so when he’s needy you can count on the fact he will follow you around everywhere you go, asking “where are you going baby?” everytime you so much as lift a finger to go get food or leave the room at all !

your boyfriend would practically have his hypothetical tail wagging back and forth the second you even look at him ૮⍝• ᴥ •⍝ა

he would chat your ear off talking about anything and everything, slowly inching closer and closer to you until he’s sitting in your lap, arms wrapped around your neck, kissing all over your face and grabbing your hands to put them around him.

shoto would kiss every part of your body he could reach, talking about how much he misses you and bargaining anything to make you pay attention to him, even though he doesnt need to bargain anything since who wouldn’t pay attention to the cutest boy ever ??

your hyper boyfriend would lay his entire body on you and invite you to play games with him or watch any anime he can think of, telling you that you should take a break after working for so long, even if you are simply working on a hobby rather than work stuffs ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

as soon as you close your laptop and pat his legs to get him off you, he gets up and grabs your hand, dragging you to bed to watch all your favourites as you cuddle him like a big teddy ʕっ•ᴥ•ʔっ

thank you for reading !! have a good day ♡〜٩( ˃▿˂ )۶〜♡

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sharedramblings · 1 year

Text

Evening Antics

Summary: A lot of free time paired with how your mind works is the formula for your own entertainment.

Author's note: Titles and summaries really aren't my thing. Also, this should have been posted two days ago but better late than never, right?

Taglist: @friskyfisher

—-—-

It's still early evening yet you two are already in your shared chambers. A rare occurrence, what with the profession that the woman you love so much has. So days like this are more special, more treasured. Mostly it's spent in each other's presence, doing things together or separately, in comfortable silence or while conversing with one another.

Tonight, it seems it'll be activities done individually after noticing that Larissa's already engrossed in the book she held between her hands. You surveyed her relaxed, sitting form, noticing that her ankles are crossed while her back rests on the cushioned headboard of the bed. A comfortable position, you think, one you'd like to partake in.

With a little plan in mind, you sit on your side of the bed, gently crawling towards her until you reach her enticing thighs. You plop your head in it, a sound that's a mixture of a moan and a sigh leaving your lips at the softness you feel underneath you.

"No pillow can ever compare to this." You confidently say, looking at the direction where her eyes would be if the book isn't blocking your view.

"Let's test that theory some other time once we've purchased those incredibly soft pillows." Larissa countered, flipping the book on the next page.

"I stand by it. Besides it's already proven and tested, so there's no room for argument." Comes your rebut as you unlock your phone.

"Proven by who, exactly?" This time she lowered the book a bit, allowing you to see her eyes and the raised eyebrow directed at you.

You proudly gestured to yourself before narrowing your gaze at her when a thought came to you. "Who else would it be? Are you letting someone else rest on my pillows?"

She playfully swats your forehead at your loaded questions, "It's always fascinating how you come up with such deductions."

You only pout at that, crossing your arms in your chest while she goes back to her book. You turn your head to your left, kissing the skin of her thigh that's immediately within your reach. "All mine" you whispered. Little did you know that the simple action made a closed-lip smile appear on her face, the crows feet on the side of her eyes apparent as her eyes crinkle.

You resume to your previous place, the back of your head resting on top of her thighs once more. After a while you decided to unlock your phone again, this time using it like how you were supposed to earlier. You were busy scrolling the time away, while Larissa read it off. The occasional sound of her turning the page, as well as the small gasps, hums, or huffs while she consumes the words written on the paper draws your attention away from your mindless browsing whenever they happen.

Soon you felt a bit sore with your position so you decided to slightly move your head to your right, coming closer to Larissa's clothed stomach. You were about to continue scrolling until something caught your eye. You side-eyed the baby blue silk camisole that touches your cheek in an interval. An inhale, then it grazes your cheek. An exhale, and then it slowly retreats. You watched it happen for a few more times, loving the way it touches your face.

An idea comes by, and you quickly put it in motion. You slowly raise the camisole up, coming face to face with Larissa's tummy. The blonde didn't give any reaction, too absorbed on whatever was happening in the book. You appreciate the soft-looking (it's definitely soft) porcelain skin, watching it rise and fall in time with the woman's breathing. It pokes at your nose now, and it makes you smile.

So soft.

You touch your pointer finger to it, enjoying the way your fingers follow the movement. Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale. And then she huffs, and her tummy takes a sharp and sudden contraction. The motions her abdomen does has you transfixed in place, eyes never moving away from her skin, just wondering about the expanse of it.

Eventually you chucked your phone blindly in bed, now having a more interesting thing to do than scrolling. The bouncing of your phone pulled Larissa out of her own bubble, closing the book to look at you. The sight made her eyebrows cinched, baffled at the position she found you in. Your left hand has her top lifted up, while your right– particularly your index finger– was poking at her stomach, and your head was directly facing it, facing her.

Before she can talk, however, you've beaten her to it. "Don't mind me. Proceed please."

The grin that accompanied your prompting has her suspicious but she's also in a curiosity-inducing section of the story so she did as you said, albeit somehow reluctant.

You wait until she's focused on the novel again before placing a fleeting kiss on the part of her belly that's exactly where your lips are aligned. And then you did it again, a little on the left this time. On the right. Just below the last kiss. Then above.

The strain on your neck forced you to reposition, so now you're laying by your front, your elbows which are placed on either side of your girlfriend helping you lift your upper body up. You let the camisole hoist up along with your movements, not caring to hold them up again. You showered her skin with little kisses, because that's what this soft, entrancing tummy deserves.

A contented sigh of your name was uttered above you, then a sound of something hitting a wooden thing followed suit. Larissa was finally done reading for the night, not even feeling a tinge of annoyance when your kisses made it hard to concentrate.

Gradually, your hands found purchased on her back, rubbing and scratching at the smooth flesh. You trace the vertical groove on her back where her spine is located, up and down, gently, softly, repeatedly.

Larissa closed her eyes at the simultaneous sensations she can feel in her skin, your soft caresses and kisses taking all her focus.

Every region of her stomach received a smooch, nothing left unkissed. Your continuous attack inevitably slows down, letting her top fall back in place with the biggest smile on your face.

The blonde slowly opens her eyes, looking so relaxed. Her pupils are a bit blown than normal, but not with lust. It was adoration, warmth, love. Softness. Directed at you. Elicited by you.

Her voice came a bit velvety when she talked, "Satisfied?"

You tilt your head to the side at her question, staring at her gorgeous blue eyes while your chin rests in the palm of your hand. You produced a long hum, feigning thinking about the answer, before shaking your head with firm certainty.

"Now that you asked, no. I'm not done yet." But instead of lifting her camisole, you pressed your lips in her clothed tummy, making a loud kissing noise during the kiss.

"Mwah!"

The exaggerated sound made Larissa chuckle, the action making her stomach contract and tremble. You littered more of it in the expanse of her tummy, the last one purposefully placed in her navel, both of your faces adorned with toothy huge grins as you stare at each other.

"And now?" She asked after you stopped. You playfully hum again, faking another pondering of your answer.

Larissa gasps, pretending alongside you. "You're insatiable."

Before you could reply, she was pulling you up towards her, giving you a peck on your lips. "So?"

"One more and then we'll see." You whispered, and Larissa happily obliged. She was planning for another peck but you weren't having it, chasing after her when she draws back. There wasn't any possible escaping for her as she's trapped between you and the headboard, so she entirely welcomes your lips fully invading hers. Her hands cups your jaw, thumbs caressing the apple of your cheeks.

You would have loved to never end the kiss, but your brain alerted you that you need oxygen so you detached from it, chest heaving while you rest your forehead with hers.

As soon as your breathing becomes normal, you retreat further until you can see her whole face, her hand coming back down her sides. Her lips are a bit swollen, hair a bit disheveled. An exquisite look.

"Can I ask for one more thing?" Your question was met with intrigued eyes, Larissa gesturing for you to continue.

Your hand moves to her stomach, caressing before coming to a rest in a certain area. "Can I bite?" you asked, hand squeezing and pinching where it stopped to accentuate the query. You were hopeful, giving her your best puppy dog-eyes to ensure that she'll allow you.

Her answer was immediate, and it's not favorable to you. "Absolutely not."

You whine and pout, coming closer to her. "Please?"

"No."

"Just this once?" You clasped your hands together, taking your pleading up a notch.

"Your 'just this once' liner" she air-quoted what you said, looking at you with a straight face, "are never just that and we both know it."

The thought has been in your head ever since you showered her tummy with smooches but you didn't want to end the kissing abruptly. You decided then that you'll chomp on her tummy, bite the flesh playfully, after the kissing. So you cling to her like a koala, thinking of ways to convince her, still not ready to accept defeat.

"Pleaaaase! It's calling to me!" you reason out, hugging her tighter.

She huffed a laugh at the ridiculousness of your statement, "The next thing you'll tell me is that my stomach bewitched you."

You nodded fervently, agreeing with her. "Because it did!" to which she chuckled again.

It was more like your mind though, because her tummy is so soft, so cuddly, so bite-worthy, that you can't help but want to do it.

You slide down the bed while maintaining the hug, only stopping when your face is planted in her stomach. Larissa can't do anything if you've already gone on with it, and that's what you're about to do.

You give her stomach a squeeze before leaning back, your gaze zeroed in on the still-covered flesh, not paying mind if Larissa's watching you. You were about to let your thoughts win out when her stern yet tinge with slight mischief voice stopped you in your tracks, "Carry on with it and there will be consequences, darling."

You weigh the pseudo-deadly gleam in her eyes along with her warning, thinking of what could be in store for you if you do what you wished. You slowly retreat, shutting your mouth close, the corner of your lips pulling down in a frown. "You don't love me anymore."

The belly laugh that escaped her lips was heavenly, a wordless response to your remark. You felt the motions of her tummy in your chin, and in that short moment, you soak her carefree nature in.

"I did not expect you to be so desperate to warrant pulling that card of yours."

#larissa weems #larissa weems x reader

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gerrystamour · 1 year

Text

grow back your sharpest teeth (you know my desire)

Rated E | Steddie Week Day 7: Free Space | 5600 Words | Complete

“Wouldn’t you be Ken, though?” Steve had hoped Eddie would ask a question like that and he had to refrain from punching the air and ruining his punchline. “I come with all the coolest accessories, so clearly I’m still Barbie,” Steve retorted, his voice going just a bit deeper as he leaned closer to Eddie. This is my final entry for @steddie-week Day 7: Free Space and holy moly CW: This is a transmasc Steve Harrington fic and he, like me, does not have bottom-dysphoria and the fic refers to his genitalia with a mixture of feminine & masculine terminology. ADDITIONALLY, this fic features a novelty strap-on and breeding kink.

[ READ ON AO3 ]

“This is the dumbest, silliest, most ridiculous idea you’ve ever come up with, Dingus,” Robin said fondly as she followed Steve down the street.

“That’s a lot of words for ‘completely genius,’ Robs,” Steve sniffed indignantly, ignoring Robin’s raised eyebrow.

“So, this has nothing to do with a certain tattoo artist you’ve been trying to seduce for months?” she asked knowingly, and Steve stood up straighter.

When Steve had met Eddie Munson a year ago, he had instantly fallen for him and had lamented that fact to Robin in excruciating detail. They’d met each other when Dustin finally talked Steve into joining a one-shot at his nerdy club thing. Had Dustin disclosed that the DM was literally the hottest man on the planet, Steve would’ve agreed a lot quicker to joining the table.

Not only was Eddie hot, though: he was hilarious and sweet, plus he was a tattoo artist and he played guitar, and Steve was also pretty sure he sang. Either way, Steve was very much into him, and he was sure that the feelings were reciprocated but it was impossible to actually get Eddie alone and ask him out.

Then Robin jokingly brought up getting matching tattoos and Steve had an idea.

See, when Robin “jokingly” mentioned something, that usually meant she was serious about it but was presenting it as a joke to blow it off if someone thought it was stupid. The thing was, Steve never thought her ideas were stupid, especially not the ideas as brilliant as getting matching tattoos of the Barbie logo.

They could go to Eddie for the tattoos, and while Eddie was working on him, Steve could finally talk to him a bit more one-on-one, making his intentions clear. It was perfect.

“Of course, this has something to do with Eddie, but it’s also just a completely genius idea, Robs,” Steve said easily, grinning over at her as they reached the door to the shop.

Once they were inside, Steve took a look around and saw that the place was empty. They were the last appointments of the day, Eddie had said, so Steve wasn’t too shocked.

At the sound of the door chiming, Eddie poked his head out of the office in the back and grinned, his dimples on full display and making Steve’s heart stutter.

“Hey! You’re early,” Eddie said as he walked out to greet them properly. “I’ve got a couple designs done for you to choose from.”

Soon they were huddled around a battered iPad, discussing the designs Eddie drew up based on the Barbie logo until they decided on one that they both liked the best.

“I want mine in baby blue, and Steve wants his in Barbie pink,” Robin said, and Eddie laughed warmly at that.

“Listen, normally I don’t care about the tattoos my clients get, but since you’re friends I’m really curious,” Eddie confessed, gesturing at the design. “Why the Barbie logo?”

Robin laughed a bit nervously and Steve spoke up. “I mean, you know we’re both trans, right? Well, Barbie is the ideal, she’s everything, so especially for Robs here, she’s kind of a huge deal. Y’know?”

Eddie nodded with a grin. “That’s sick, I love it,” he said before turning a sly look at Steve. “Wouldn’t you be Ken, though?”

Steve had hoped Eddie would ask a question like that and he had to refrain from punching the air and ruining his punchline.

“I come with all the coolest accessories, so clearly I’m still Barbie,” Steve retorted, his voice going just a bit deeper as he leaned closer to Eddie.

Just as he’d hoped, Eddie blushed lightly and he glanced at Steve’s mouth, just like he always did when Steve flirted. Then Eddie laughed breathlessly, and he smirked suggestively.

“I bet you do, big boy,” he teased, and Steve had to hold back from cheering loudly as once again, Eddie played into the little script he’d practiced all week.

“You can always come over sometime and see for yourself,” Steve offered almost innocently if not for the way he nudged Eddie’s ankle with his foot. “Maybe even take a couple for a spin?”

Eddie’s eyes widened and his face turned a gorgeous shade of red before he cleared his throat. “Stevie, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you were asking me out,” Eddie said with an almost nervous laugh and Steve nearly screamed in frustration. Why was this man so oblivious?

“You apparently don’t actually know better,” Steve pressed then added firmly, “I wouldn’t say no to taking you out for dinner.”

Eddie blinked at Steve, his mouth falling open before he closed it quickly with a click. “Okay, yeah, sure,” Eddie said, sounding a bit strangled as he glanced at Steve’s mouth and then he stood up. “I’m going to print the stencils and we’ll get started?”

“Sounds good!” Robin said brightly. The moment Eddie disappeared into his office she turned on Steve with a shocked expression. “I cannot actually believe—oh my god, is that the Harrington Charm you’re always going on about?”

Steve smirked a bit, more than a little bit smug. “I mean, yeah,” he said with a heavy dose of fake modesty.

“Wow, that was… wow,” Robin huffed with an incredulous laugh.

When Eddie returned, they returned to the friendly banter they normally had, though there were more than a few lingering glances between him and Steve. Robin went first, getting hers done on her ribs which she didn’t even flinch through. Steve was impressed.

Once hers was done, she had to leave for work, which meant Steve would be alone with Eddie for the duration of his own tattoo.

Which, again, Steve had sort of planned.

But Steve kept it professional, platonic, while Eddie worked on his tattoo. Steve was getting his done on his back, just over his right shoulder blade. When it was done and Steve had paid for both tattoos, Eddie grabbed his wrist.

“Are you seriously asking me out?” Eddie asked, his face unsure.

Steve blinked at him for a bit before he nodded. “Yeah, Eds, I’ve been trying to ask you out since I met you,” he admitted with a laugh when Eddie’s eyes widened.

“Why, though?” Eddie asked, his voice a bit guarded.

That threw Steve off. Eddie always seemed confident, untouchable, out-of-reach. “Because you’re funny, you’re really sweet, you have an amazing smile, and you’re hot as hell,” Steve listed quickly and easily, shrugging slightly. “I’ve been really into you since I met you, man.”

Eddie laughed a bit, disbelieving but happy sounding. “Okay, I’d—I want to go out with you, but I’m a bit of a life’s-short-eat-dessert-first kind of guy, so…” Eddie trailed off, raising his eyebrows at Steve suggestively.

Steve leaned over the counter, bringing their faces close together. “You wanna go for a ride before I wine and dine you, Eddie?” he asked in a low, teasing voice and Eddie actually choked.

“Jesus H Christ, Stevie, you’re actually gonna kill me,” Eddie admitted with a weak laugh.

“You want me to stop?” he asked genuinely.

“Fuck, no, please don’t,” Eddie said quickly, shaking his head a bit.

With a laugh, Steve nodded. “How does next Saturday night sound?”

“I’ll have to check my calendar,” Eddie said with a dimpled grin. “I’ll text you.”

“Sounds perfect, Eds,” Steve replied as he leaned even closer over the counter. “Can I kiss you?”

Eddie’s breath whooshed out of him, but he nodded almost frantically, and Steve wasted no time closing the distance between them.

It was a quick kiss, almost chaste if not for the hungry groan Steve let out just before he pulled back. Eddie chased the kiss, but he was stopped by the counter when Steve took a step back toward the door. “See you on Saturday,” he said and then he left the shop.

It was only when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket with Eddie’s text message that Steve actually allowed himself to celebrate his win.

Eddie was absolutely not freaking out. That would be ridiculous. It’s not like he’d never slept with a guy way too hot for him before.

It would be the first time he slept with a guy that was way too hot for him and also a friend, though.

See, he was very much into Steve Harrington ever since that first time he played D&D with his club. The moment Dustin strolled in with Steve in tow, Eddie’s fate was sealed, and he resigned himself to pining after him forever. The constant stream of flirting wasn’t lost on Eddie, but there was no way Steve could be meaning it.

Eddie knew he wasn��t ugly or anything, but he also wasn’t hot, at least not on the same level as Steve. He knew his good angles for photos, and he knew how to style himself best, but he didn’t have the effortless looks like Steve. Eddie didn’t wake up looking gorgeous like Steve likely did.

Aside from that, Eddie was an absolute nerd, a weirdo, and Steve was as normal as they came. Sure, Steve played one-shots with Hellfire, but he never asked to join the actual party or anything like that. Plus, the moment Eddie got too excited about one of his nerdy books, shows, movies, or whatever, he knew Steve would take off.

Despite Steve’s flirting, the man exuded “vanilla” and while Eddie would definitely still enjoy that, he knew it was only a matter of time before Steve would find out his true desires. If Steve ever saw his collection of toys at home…

Which is why he’s going over to Steve’s place. Nothing crazy to scare anyone off before they got off at least once. Eddie could absolutely pretend to be normal for one, maybe two hook-ups. He would definitely be ignoring the little pang in his chest about only sleeping with Steve a couple times.

All that mattered was he was spending the night at Steve’s, and he was probably going to have the best sex of his life and he would be fine walking away from that.

Arriving at Steve’s apartment, Eddie knocked and waited a bit anxiously for Steve to answer. The moment the door opened, Eddie smoothed his expression into something cockier as he leaned against the door frame, smirking as Steve smiled brightly at him.

“Heya, how’s it going, big boy?” he asked, voice low and suggestive.

Steve laughed and to Eddie’s surprise, he pulled Eddie in for a sweet kiss. “Better now that you’re here,” Steve murmured against his lips before dragging him inside.

“You hit all the guys you seduce with that corny line, Stevie?” Eddie asked a bit breathlessly as Steve pushed his leather jacket off his shoulders. Steve just chuckled as he moved his mouth to Eddie’s throat and ran his hands up underneath his shirt.

“Only the very special guys,” Steve hummed directly into Eddie’s ear as he walked him further into the apartment. Eddie’s gut fluttered at that, and he tried to calm himself down.

Everything became a bit of a whirlwind after that, between grasping hands, greedy mouths, and rolling hips but eventually Eddie’s senses returned to him. They were sprawled across Steve’s bed, Eddie on his back with the other man on top of him with his hip rocking against Eddie’s dick. Both of them were completely naked, actually humping each other like teenagers as they panted into the sloppy kiss they shared.

Eddie snapped out of his daze and grabbed Steve’s hips, stilling his perfect, rolling motion and gasped, “Whoa, tiger. Let’s slow down a bit, or we’re gonna be done before we even start.”

“Tsk, aw, you can only come once?” Steve asked with an exaggerated little frown, his tone teasing but there was an edge of meanness to it that had a thrill rocketing through Eddie. “Can’t relate at all.”

Steve pushed up and crawled back just enough to stop touching Eddie’s cock and properly straddling his thigh. Hooking a hand under Eddie’s thigh, Steve brought his leg up to press firmly against the hot, wet mess of curls between his legs. With a happy little groan, Steve pinned Eddie’s hips against the bed, bracing himself with that contact, and started rocking his dick against his leg in earnest.

All Eddie could do was lay there while Steve moved, his hips moving in a sinful, swiveling motion that hinted at what Eddie had to look forward to. At that thought, Eddie groaned and reached up to run his hands over Steve’s stomach and chest. He thumbed the tattooed leaves and vines that followed the thin scars below Steve’s pecs, and Eddie relished the way Steve groaned at his light touch.

Steve let out another desperate sound as his stomach tensed, and Eddie was brought back to the present moment. Looking down, Eddie let out a thick groan at the shine of Steve’s slick spread over the tattooed skin of his thigh. Steve was so wet, and Eddie wanted to taste him there, to pull Steve up over his face and fucking drown himself with it.

A second later, a punched-out, shattered cry burst out of Steve’s throat, and he rocked hard and erratically against Eddie’s leg. Steve was beautiful when he came, with his perfect mouth open with his strangled noises and his strong brow furrowed, a pretty pink blush staining his cheeks, down his throat, and across his chest.

It was such a gorgeous sight, Eddie wanted to see it again, immediately.

Eddie reached up to wrap a hand around the back of Steve’s head, tangling in his thick hair and pulling him down for a hungry kiss. Dropping his leg, Eddie reached between Steve’s thighs with his other hand and began working his dick between his fingers. Steve was making delicious little noises against Eddie’s lips, rocked down to meet Eddie’s hand.

Pulling away from the kiss, Eddie asked, “Inside okay?”

“Yeah,” Steve moaned, and Eddie immediately slid two fingers further back and into Steve’s cunt.

Eddie didn’t waste any time in searching for Steve’s sweet spot, crooking his fingers at the same time he angled his thumb to continue working Steve’s dick.

The noise that tumbled from Steve’s throat and into Eddie’s mouth was intoxicating, and Eddie doubled his efforts. Steve’s cunt clenched around his fingers and Eddie pulled Steve’s head back enough to watch his face as he came with a shuddering whine.

Steve’s second release was just as beautiful. Some part of him wanted his phone so he could take a picture so he could see it again in the future.

“Okay, enough,” Steve groaned, reaching down to push Eddie’s hand away and climbing off of him to lounge back on his elbows. A suggestive expression settled across Steve’s features as he said, “There’s some shelves in the closet over there. How about you go choose your ride?”

If Eddie wasn’t so aroused, he’d be embarrassed at how quickly he clambered off the bed.

The moment Eddie stepped into the walk-in closet; he was first taken aback by the sea of polos while he searched for the shelves in question. When his eyes landed on them finally, he very nearly choked on his own tongue.

See, Eddie figured Steve had a decent collection of strap-ons if he was bragging so brazenly all this time, and he assumed it was a variation of sizes, textures, and features like vibrators and the like. What he never even considered was that Steve was a freak like him. Yet there he was standing in Steve’s closet looking at a collection of dildos that looked very similar to the ones Eddie used on himself at home. Except there was a lot more than Eddie was able to afford on his modest paycheque.

To put it simply, almost every single cock was a novelty cock. There were fat dragon cocks, long werewolf cocks with mouth-watering knots, tentacles of varying softnesses and lengths. Some Steve had doubles of, and the only difference was that the one had a cum-tube and the other didn’t. One of the werewolf cocks was repeated in every size possible except for the smallest.

On the bottom shelf were the normal dildos that Eddie had expected which gave that illusion of choice that had his stomach doing somersaults. Eddie could go for the normal ones, play at being normal for the night and gradually ease into the freaky shit with Steve. But his eyes kept returning to the shelf practically dedicated to all the cocks with knots, particularly the one Steve had in all the sizes.

Deciding on the werewolf one was easy enough, but choosing the size was tough. Looking closer, he noticed that Steve had ordered these cocks with a cum-tube, but only in the medium, large, and extra-large ones. The ones where the knots were at least as wide as a fucking soda can.

So, Steve was a freak freak. Eddie was maybe actually in love.

“You good in there, Eds?” Steve called, and the knowing tone in his voice had shame burning hot in Eddie’s gut, making his cock fucking leak.

“Y-yeah,” Eddie replied, clearing his throat as he grabbed the medium werewolf cock with the cum-tube, feeling his blush down to his bellybutton. He could absolutely take the bigger ones—and did so fairly often at home with the ones he owned—but he had never had the pleasure of someone else fucking him with a cock that large. It was better to start a little smaller, right?

Stepping back out into the bedroom, Eddie had to work to maintain eye-contact as he held the dildo out to Steve.

The toothy, broad grin that split Steve’s face had Eddie’s legs shaking under his weight. “The medium, huh?” Steve hummed knowingly as he slid off the bed and stood so close to Eddie, they were almost touching. Looking Eddie up and down appraisingly, Steve added, “I was sure you’d choose the large at least.”

Eddie opened his mouth to argue, but all that came out was a choked-off whine as a new wave of shame sent more heat rushing south. Somehow this asshole—this hot, amazing, freak of an asshole—had him figured out completely and they were barely even friends.

“Figured we could save that for next time, hm?” Eddie said without consciously deciding to do so, and Steve’s wolfish grin softened around the edges, his eyes bright with something other than lust.

“Next time, huh? Haven’t even got my cock in you and you’re planning for next time?” Steve asked teasingly as he took the dildo from Eddie, and his grin turned wicked again as he realized it was one with a cum-tube. Steve practically purred as he asked, “Oh, Eddie. You want me to breed you?”

Eddie couldn’t have responded to that question any other way if he wanted to. “Fuck, please,” he all but moaned, shivering under Steve’s heated gaze.

Steve leaned in as if to kiss Eddie, but stopped short and said, “How about you get comfy on the bed while I get ready.”

Then Steve slapped his ass and slipped past him into the closet to grab one of the leather harnesses.

Eddie almost stood there and watched Steve get ready, but getting on the bed also had its merits. Scrambling back onto it, he realized there was a stack of towels on the edge. That meant a few things, all of which had Eddie spiraling for different reasons.

Firstly, it meant that Steve was either prepared with towels near his bed on principle, or he had enough time to grab them while Eddie blue-screened choosing a cock to rearrange his guts with. The former was so endearing it hurt Eddie’s heart, and the latter was honestly a bit embarrassing.

Secondly, Steve knew this was going to be messy, possibly even guessed from the start that Eddie would choose a cock that could inject a bunch of lube deep into his ass. That was a lot to unpack, especially with how much it had his cock weeping onto the comforter.

Remembering his actual task, he debated how to set himself up for Steve. The other man didn’t tell him what to do with himself, just to get comfy, so it was up to Eddie. Part of him wanted to be facing Steve, but that felt too intimate, too soon.

With a shudder, Eddie piled up all the pillows under the comforter then laid two towels over it. Then Eddie settled on his elbows and knees above the pile with a sigh, his chest sinking into the pillows comfortably. It was enough to make Eddie blush even deeper, having his ass on full display while he was virtually alone in an unfamiliar bedroom. The thought of Steve stepping out of the closet and seeing him like that on the bed—

“Holy shit, Eds.”

Eddie wasn’t sure when it had happened, but his eyes had closed. Opening them quickly, he looked over and nearly came at the sight of Steve wearing the cock of his dreams, held on with a light-pink leather harness. The syringe for the cum-tube was held against Steve’s skin under one of the straps, and Eddie could tell Steve had prepared a full load by how far the plunger was pulled out.

Steve’s expression was equal parts awed and lustful as his eyes traveled over his body, and Eddie almost wanted to hide. There was nothing so special about him for someone like Steve to be looking at Eddie like that.

Then that predatory grin returned in full force as Steve climbed onto the bed behind Eddie, dropping a bottle of lube next to Eddie’s knee. That smile was going to be the star of Eddie’s fantasies for the rest of life.

“Presenting yourself so pretty for me already, sweetheart?” Steve cooed, the affection in his tone in direct contrast to the rough way he groped Eddie’s ass apart and exposed his hole even more.

“Steve,” Eddie whined when the rough pad of Steve’s thumb pressed flat across his entrance, teasing at pushing in dry.

“What, baby?” Steve asked, taking his thumb away to spit almost directly on his hole.

“Oh, holy shit,” Eddie practically squeaked out, his cock throbbing at the sensation of Steve’s saliva sliding down his taint as the thumb returned to massage his entrance again.

“You like that, sweetheart?” Steve purred, and while it was worded like a question, it was absolutely said as a statement. It was an observation.

“Steve, please, fuck me,” Eddie begged, tears springing to his eyes when he felt Steve’s cock slide against his inner thigh.

“Gotta prepare you first, Eds,” Steve responded, his tone smug as he grabbed the lube to slick his fingers.

“Won’t need much,” Eddie whimpered as the first digit slid easily into him.

Steve laughed at that a bit. “You get fucked like this regularly?” he asked, and Eddie shuddered as a second finger pressed into him.

“N-no, only on my own, with my own t-toys,” Eddie managed to gasp out as he rocked back against the fingers gently fucking him.

Steve groaned. “You have a cock like mine at home?” he asked, his voice a low growl.

“Y-yeah,” Eddie replied with a moan as a third finger pushed inside.

Finally, Steve’s fingers curled downward sharply, nailing Eddie’s prostate with scary accuracy and dragging a scream from his throat. “How often do you fuck yourself on my cock without me, sweetheart?” Steve asked, voice thick with his want.

The way that was worded, the implication of possession, had Eddie panting even more than the stimulation against his prostate did. “Often e-enough,” he whimpered in response, eyes rolling back when Steve spread his fingers in his hole.

“You are pretty loose,” Steve agreed with an edge to his tone that was just mean enough for Eddie’s cock to throb hotly. “But you’ve never had someone else give it to you?”

“Never, I promise, never,” Eddie gasped out, and caught up as he was in the moment, Eddie looked over his shoulder with a shy flutter of his lashes. “You’re my first, Stevie.”

For the first time that evening, Eddie seemed to actually catch Steve off guard, leaving the gorgeous man speechless as he stared down at him. Steve’s jaw was clenched, and nostrils flared while he took a few controlled breaths.

“Stevie?” Eddie prompted, rocking back onto the fingers that had stilled inside him.

Eddie’s voice seemed to do the trick in snapping Steve out of his thoughts. Withdrawing his fingers, he got started on slicking the length of his cock to the knot with a liberal amount of lube. The sound of his hand on it was absolutely obscene, it was so wet.

After a few moments, Steve spat on Eddie’s hole again and grinned at the way Eddie whimpered, then he was lining up and pushing inside.

It hurt, of course it did, but it was definitely on the good side of hurt. Eddie’s entire world narrowed onto the cock splitting his ass open, the way the girth widened as it slid into him. Once again, Eddie found that his eyes were screwed shut without him consciously choosing to close them. Blinking rapidly and looking over his shoulder, Eddie groaned thickly at the way Steve was watching his cock slowly sink into him.

“Steve, please, faster,” Eddie whined, shaking with the effort not to rock back and take Steve’s cock the rest of the way. “I can take it, please.”

“Don’t be greedy, Eddie,” Steve scolded lightly, not even looking away from where they were connected. “I want to watch your pretty hole struggle to take my cock every inch of the way.”

“Stevie,” Eddie sobbed desperately, blushing all the way to his chest.

When Steve stopped at the thickest point of the length, Eddie shook. He was so full, the stretch of his hole around Steve overwhelming, the burn of it driving him insane. Eddie’s hole clenched around the girth, struggling to adjust, and he let out a low whine.

At that, Steve sighed and snapped his hips forward. Eddie choked as the knot was pressed flush against his hole, the length of Steve thick and heavy inside him.

“Gonna fuck you now, sweetheart,” Steve cooed, and Eddie’s eyes rolled back.

“Please, please, fuck me,” he gasped, shuddering as Steve slowly begins to pull out.

Steve chuckled darkly. “Not gonna be gentle with you,” he said, voice low and growling.

“Promise?” Eddie asked a bit cheekily, looking over his shoulder to meet Steve’s positively hungry look.

Just like that, what control Steve had over himself snapped and his hips began to move. As Eddie guessed, Steve’s thrusting movements earlier were foreshadowing for the main event, and Christ was it fucking amazing. Eddie could barely breathe as Steve fucked him relentlessly, his hands on Eddie’s hips dragging him back to meet his thrusts.

Eddie was getting loud with his pleasure, punched-out little half-screams exploding from his throat. Remembering that Steve lived in an apartment and likely had neighbours, Eddie bit the pillow his chest was pressed into, muffling himself a bit.

“No,” Steve growled, and then there was a hand twisting into Eddie’s hair and pulling, lifting Eddie’s face out of the pillow. “Let me hear you.”

“Your neighbours—”

“Are gonna know just how good you feel,” Steve interrupted, and he added an extra movement to his thrusts that had his cock nailing Eddie’s prostate on every slide inward.

“Steve, please, please, please,” Eddie babbled, feeling his release building hot and heavy in his gut. He didn’t want to come until he had Steve’s knot inside him, but he couldn’t get the words out, too busy sobbing Steve’s name. It didn’t help that Steve was now using his hair as leverage.

“What is it, Eds?” Steve asked and he stopped at the next thrust, pressing the knot against him but not pushing it in. Eddie whimpered, tears falling down his cheeks as Steve knew but refused to oblige.

“Please, Steve, want it,” Eddie managed to gasp out.

“Want what?” Steve asked knowingly, almost meanly.

Eddie whimpered and rocked back against the knot. “Want it,” was all he could say to articulate his needs. “All of it, please, all of it inside.”

“You want my knot, baby?” Steve groaned, and Eddie felt him pick up the bottle of lube. He could feel a thick stream of the slick stuff pooling against his hole and the knot until it was spilling down his thighs.

“Yes, yes, Steve, I want your knot,” Eddie sobbed, tears streaming down his face now.

“Gonna give it to you, baby, don’t you worry,” Steve promised, rocking against Eddie with a bit more purpose, each shift becoming a more insistent push. “Gonna seal you with it and pump you full of my pups, huh?”

Eddie let out an almost hysterical giggle at that, overwhelmed by just how much that was doing for him, how hot it was to imagine even for a second. “Please,” he practically wailed as Steve pushed and the thickest part of the knot was stretching his hole.

“Please, what, Eds?” Steve asked knowingly, meanly even, and Eddie let out another one of his hysterical giggles.

“Give it to me, give me the knot, want it so bad, wanna feel it inside me, want you to fucking breed me, please—” Eddie was cut off with a choked grunt as Steve pushed the rest of the way in, the knot sliding in and nestling just so against Eddie’s prostate.

Steve pulled back a bit and the way the knot pulled on Eddie’s hole had him seeing stars. With a chuckle, Steve shook his hips side to side and seemed greatly amused at the way Eddie was forced to follow the motion.

“Touch yourself, Eds,” Steve ordered, and immediately Eddie had a hand underneath himself, stroking his cock in desperate, frantic motions. He had never needed to come this badly in his life.

Then Steve pressed his hips flush against Eddie’s ass, sliding the massive cock inside him deeper, and swiveling his hips in such a way that the knot was relentless pressure against Eddie’s prostate. Distantly, Eddie was aware that he was babbling nonsense, practically screaming it as his release came barreling closer.

“Here it comes, sweetheart,” Steve groaned, and that’s when Eddie felt the bloom of something warm and wet deep inside him.

And that did it.

Eddie didn’t even try to strangle the scream that exploded out of him as he came, shuddering violently as he clenched tightly around Steve’s girth while his release spilled over his hand and thighs and the towel underneath him.

With a dark chuckle, Steve pulled until the knot popped out and Eddie whimpered pitifully. Then he began to move again, as if he was about to fuck Eddie like he hadn’t just had the biggest orgasm of his life. The sound of Steve’s cock moving in and out of his bred hole was absolutely obscene, and Eddie could feel his own dick trying to get hard again.

“Can’t—” Eddie gasped, reaching back with his messy hand to stop Steve, and the other man immediately acquiesced.

“My turn, I think,” Steve agreed and suddenly Eddie was empty and Steve wasn’t touching him anymore, which was not what he wanted at all.

Then Steve rolled Eddie over onto his back and crawled up his body until he was straddling his face. If Steve was wet earlier when he was riding Eddie’s thigh, he was absolutely drenched now. Eddie thought back to earlier when he had imagined himself drowning in the wetness of Steve’s cunt, and Eddie wondered if the other man could literally read minds.

“C’mon Eds, put that mouth to good use,” Steve teased, grabbing Eddie’s hair and lowering himself to his lips.

Eddie immediately responded, lapping and sucking at Steve’s dick with purpose. Staring dazedly up the perfect, long line of Steve’s torso, Eddie happily watched him writhe and moan.

With a groan, Eddie lifted one hand to slip two fingers into Steve’s cunt curling them until Steve jolted with a sharp gasp.

“Oh, fuck,” Steve groaned, one hand twisting in Eddie’s hair as the other held onto the headboard.

Staring up at Steve through his lashes, Eddie squirmed as he felt Steve’s “load” start to trickle out of him, adding more to the mess of lube between his cheeks and on the bed. The sensation was uncomfortable, but it also served as an intimate reminder of what they did and that had Eddie’s cock trying to get hard again.

Before Eddie could think too much more about it, however, Steve’s grip in his hair became punishing and then he was coming, his cunt pulsing around Eddie’s fingers. Dutifully, Eddie worked him through it, continuing for as long as Steve would let him, which seemed to work just fine with Steve.

Steve finally lifted himself away from Eddie’s mouth after he came a third time on his tongue and fingers, his eyes shut as he collected himself. Eddie was in heaven, virtually floating where he laid on the bed staring up at the ceiling. Half of Eddie’s face was wet with Steve’s slick and the rest of his face was coated in sweat, his long, curly hair sticking to the dampness over his face.

Collapsing onto the bed next to Eddie, Steve laughed breathlessly. “That was fucking hot,” he said, grinning over at Eddie.

Eddie chuckled and nodded. “The hottest,” he agreed, already considering how soon they could meet up again for round two, or if he should just cut the crap and go on a proper date with the other man.

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Thank you so much for reading and please consider reblogging! Taglist! @patchworkgargoyle, @starryeyedjanai, @rugbertgoeshome, @ent-is-undecisive, @scarcrossdlvrs, @scoops-stevie, @matchingbatbites, @spectrum-spectre

#steddie #steve x eddie #steddieweekafterdark #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve/eddie #gerry writes #TransmascSteve.#GoodBoyEddie.

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ladylooch · 11 months

Note

I’m not Woody anon, but I already have a request to make 😂

How about a size kink with Miles? This man is super well built and huge 👀 the idea of being dominated by him seems so fun

Size Matters with Miles Wood

A/N: My Miles Wood babes.. this is for you. I’m so sad he is no longer on the Devils. I am actually very in love with this fic. Like my faces writing this was this: 😊 & 🥵 & 🥰

This man. And the way he throws punches… leaves many thoughts for imagination in a sexual situation. And I’m here to provide some of them. You can’t tell me that the way he chirps on the ice does not lead to dirty talk in the bedroom. I’m gonna stop talking now and just let you read my filth.

Also if Miles Wood said good girl to me that would be the end of my existence. Fuck.

Work Count: 1.8k

It’s another post-game on edge, awaiting for Miles to come out of the locker room. Tonight, I’m standing with his parents, Randy and Cheryl. Randy is joking around with Jim Hughes about Miles latest tumble with Brady Tkachuck. Everyone thought it was a great, heavy weight fight. I spent the entire time curled up in my seat, hands over my face, shoving my upper body into my thighs in terror.

I hate when he fights.

But damn is he good at it.

He comes strolling out of the locker room unaffected, one hand holding a bottle of water and the other stuffed into his pants pocket. He greets his mom and dad first, then comes to wrap his arms around me. When I feel his large body against mine, I finally relax. I turn my forehead into his neck. He leans his head into mine in acknowledgment. He knows how awful I feel when he fights.

“You okay?” He whispers. I nod in return, stepping back so he can converse with his parents again. He keeps his big hand around my opposite hip, cuddling me into his side.

We previously agreed to go out for a late night happy hour after the game with his parents close to their hotel. I am antsy the whole time, needing to feel Miles’ hands on me the entire time. His parents are lost in a conversation between themselves for a moment. Miles turns to me, tilting his corners up into a muted smile. I lean forward, pressing our lips together.

“I love you.” I murmur. “I’m thankful for another day of you getting off the ice healthy.”

“You worry too much.”

“You do this to me. You could not fight.”

“I could, but then who would I be? Not me.” I frown because it’s true. It’s been a part of his chaotic, electric game since he was a teenager. His dad tells stories about his fights from Boston College like he’s toned it down a bit since then, which is hard for me to believe.

“Can’t have that.” I murmur, running my hands through his curls. I hold his neck in my hand for a moment.

“So what do you two have planned for the rest of the night?” Cheryl asks.

“Sleep.” Miles chuckles, looking at his watch to see it’s already after 11pm.

“You’re getting soft in your old age.” Randy pokes at his son.

“No, I finally have something worth staying home for.” He kisses my hand, keeping it laced on his strong thigh for the remainder of the night.

When we get back to our apartment, it’s after midnight. Luckily the Devils don’t have practice tomorrow. Miles walks in behind me, tossing his keys the five feet to the kitchen counter and pushing me forward to our bedroom.

“Babe.” I chuckle, bucking my butt back into his stiff lap.

“My parents took forever to say goodbye.” He groans, reaching down for the hem of my shirt and pulling it over my head. My hair cascades back down my back and shoulders, teasing my skin. He unclasps my bra, salivating as my breasts spring free into the air. His hands come up, rolling my nipple against his ruff palms, calloused from fighting. “Just wanted to feel you like this. They like you too much.”

“Yeah because they don’t know what I do to you when they’re not around.” I turn, nipping at his lips, gripping his tie to hold his mouth to mine.

I lap my tongue against him, then slide my fingers down the silk until I reach his belt. He gathers my hair in his strong hand, lips moist from his tongue. His toothless grins shines down at me as I use his cock as lipstick. His thumb comes to my lips, pressing my bottom jaw down so my mouth opens. My tongue comes out, licking along the ridge of his head. I use it as a guide, running it along the bottom of his cock until he fills my mouth. Miles watches, eyes volatile with waves of desire.

“Good girl.” He groans. My eyes close at the praise, inner walls collapsing around nothing.

I take him deeper, sucking my cheeks in around his large girth. He’s long and wide. I’m the luckiest girl in the world, but it always leaves a few moments of pause before we can really go. My mouth adjusts to him in a few more suckles. Miles, usually one to buck into my mouth, leaves the tempo completely to me. My hand settles at the base, giving him a tug up into my mouth. He moans, breathing increasing, hands clasping my hair tighter. I stroke him a few more times just like that, reveling in the sexy noises that fall from his mouth. He works on the buttons of his shirt along with this tie, letting them fall around us. I move off his dick, going down to suck one of his balls into my mouth, then the other.

“Up, baby.” He groans, pulling me off of him by the grip on my hair. A string of saliva follows me back. Miles bites his lip, eyebrows pulling low over his eyes. His fingers work on the closures of my tight jeans, helping me shimmy them down. I step out and he grips my waist, hoisting me up into his chest. “I’m taking you right there.” He says to me before putting his lips on mine.

I moan into his mouth, gripping his brown curls as he slides into my slick entrance. He pauses there, then pushes my hips down and back so I move farther down him.

“Oh.” I whine.

“Fuck.” He breathes out, nail beds white as he grips my ass to prevent going in further. It is so tight. We can both feel how my body resists at first from both the size and the position we are in. He tries to pull me down to him again, this time sliding all the way in. “Baby.” He moans against my mouth. “You’re so wet. Feels so good around my cock.”

“You are absolutely ruining me right now.” I whimper as he begins to move. The first few thrusts of discomfort pass and then it’s all out pleasure. “Holy fuck, babe.” I squirm against his grasp, wanting to help. He walks us over to the living room wall, leaning my back against it so he can rail into me harder. It’s so zealous, just like Miles. I grip onto his wide shoulders for support. He leans forward, bruising my lips with his. His thumbs squeeze into my hip bones, leaving red rashes underneath.

“Great job beautiful. Let’s go deeper.” I nod enthusiastically, then press my hips down into his to meet him thrust for thrust. He holds my weight up like it’s nothing to him, large palms engulfing my ass.

“Fuck, babe. I love your cock.” Miles grits his teeth, thrusting harder into me.

“Yeah? This the only place you wanna be?”

“God, yes. Please don’t stop. P-please.” My voice begins to quiver as I get closer to coming.

All thoughts cease and complete feeling takes over. My muscles relax, my head slumps back into the wall and Miles takes me completely. I’m like a doll, limbs bumping up against his back and butt with each thrust. My breathing goes last as tingles begin to spread out from my core. An orgasm unleashes with brisk relief inside of me. “Yes.” I am finally able to whisper into his ear. Miles hears my voice, coated with sexual release and he grunts, coming loudly buried inside of me.

There is no doubt that watching him fight is the worst. But when he fights, he makes it up to me here, just the two of us. He takes that same big, aggressive body and channels it into incredible sex. But what comes after this might actually be as wonderful.

He pulls away, lips kissing soft presses along my warm skin, allowing my feet to touch the floor again. He works his mouth over all the marks he’s made on me. My throat, my collar bone, my hips. He turns me, lips ghosting along my butt. He then works his mouth up my spine, letting his tongue trail out in spots, eating me up.

“Do you need a bath or shower?”

“No, I just want you in our bed.”

“Okay. Go. I’ll be there in a second.” He taps my butt lovingly.

I head down the hall, stopping in our bathroom to clean myself up for a moment. I also take out my contacts and scrub the make up off my face. Before I leave the bathroom, I grab the shirt Miles was wearing before he left for the game. It’s comfy and huge, enclosing me in the smell of his cologne and our laundry detergent. In our bedroom, Miles waits for me. He has the TV on, clicking through Netflix for The Great British Baking Show- our latest binge.

I think of him pounding against Brady earlier tonight, then pounding me after, and what a contrast it is to the softness that is here now. It brings my lips up into a smile. I pad gradually over to the bed where Miles has already pulled the blankets back for me to slide in. He’s dressed himself in boxers again and has a pint of Mint Chip ice cream for us to share.

“Oh babe, they’re making tarts.” He exclaims excitedly. He tosses the remote back onto the nightstand, then settles back into the pillows with the ice cream. “Ready?” He opens his arm for me to snuggle into his chest. I curl into him, knees pressing into his hips as we sit up to eat. Miles scoops out a bite, turning the spoon for me to take. I open my mouth, licking the ice cream off the metal. He watches me, cheeks spreading wide at the way I tease him with my movements. “Fuck, I love you.” He leans forward, kissing my mouth with his plump lips.

“I love you more.”

“Nah.” He immediately disagrees, turning back to the show. I lean forward, taking his firm jaw between my teeth to nibble him. He looks back at me, biting my bottom lip in retaliation.

“Can I keep you forever?”

“Yeah, baby. Don’t look in the back of the closet.” He gives me another spoonful of ice cream, casually. “Something tells me you’ve already seen it though.” I purse my lips together guiltily as I chew. He knows I’m a snoop.

“Just the box. Big box tho.”

“Big ring.”

“Big man.” I wiggle my eyebrows at him. He chuckles.

“Lucky you.”

After tonight, yeah, I’d say so.

#Miles Wood blurb #Miles Wood Fan Fiction #Miles Wood Smut #New Jersey Devils #My writing #hockey writing #NHL fan fiction #writing request #Shot in the Dark AU

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