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emmyrosee · 3 months

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Sukuna hates how petty you can get when you’re fighting.

There is a part of him that loves your stubbornness, sure, like when you huff at him and make him work for your affection, but right now, you’re on day three of the silent treatment, and he’s losing it.

You enter a room and he’s already in it, you leave. You’re talking to yuuji and he comes in, you stop talking immediately. You haven’t been staying the night anymore, and you haven’t given him a kiss goodbye any time you’ve left. Even his ma is questioning what he did wrong, and he can’t give her a concrete answer.

He’s losing it.

Hes spammed texted you, he’s been trapping you in rooms by leaning in the doorframe, he’s been trying to get yuuji to be his messenger, but nothings working. You’re not biting.

“You’re over complicating this,” yuuji shakes his head and thumbing through channels. “Literally just apologize.”

“At this point I don’t even know what I’m apologizing for!”

“Well they’re on their way over, thinking you’re going to apologize, so you’d better figure it out.”

“You’ve been an immense help, thank you, asshole.”

As if on cue, there’s a knock at the door, and when Sukuna takes a deep breath and answers it, you nearly spin on your heel to leave.

“Oh I don’t think so,” he snips, grabbing your hand and pulling you in the house and trying not to focus on how you’re not even fighting against him, and that’s how indifferent you are to him. “We’re talking. Like it.”

“Hey dawg!” Yuuji cheers, clicking off the tv and waving. You wave back, your streak of not talking in front of Sukuna continuing. The younger chuckles, “I’ll let the adults duke it out. See ya!”

The room fills with silence as yuuji leaves, making Sukuna immensely uncomfortable. The way you’re looking at him has him uncomfortable, you’re making him so uncomfortable, and he just wishes you’d toss your pride to the side and talk to him and cuss him out or something.

“You look… good.”

Nothing.

“I’ve missed you.”

Nada.

“I made out with someone else because I got sick of you ignoring me.”

You scowl at him.

“Okay, I was lying. I was hoping you’d cuss me out.”

No dice.

“You’re acting like a fucking child!” He takes a deep breath in to try and ground himself, and you merely watch him with a hurt expression.

Okay. That didn’t help his situation.

“Fucks sake,” he grumbles, making a move to guide you backwards. He’s got you backed into a wall, hands on your shoulders while your arms stay nonchalantly crossed.

“I don’t get why you’re so mad at me; what did I even do?” He snaps, leaning close to your face threateningly.

You blink unamused.

Oh.

You’re gonna speak alright. He’s gonna make sure of it.

“Speak.”

You merely look him up and down and turn your head.

“Talk! Now!”

You let a tired exhale through your nose pass.

“I said i was sorry, and i know you know that was hard for me, why am i still being punished by you?” It’s bait to make you mad and talk, he knows he hasn’t apologized to the most sincere of his ability, but he hasn’t done anything wrong.

“Maybe I’ll tickle ya, how about that?”

That, does, have your eyes widening but you still don’t spare him a breath. He smirks, “I’d bet you’d hate that, huh? Holding in all that laughter and begs for me to stop, knowing I’m not going to until you talk to me… and I’ll do it too. You know that.”

You merely cross your arms over your chest tighter.

He shrugs, “you asked for it.”

And he’s gotta say, he’s impressed with how little you’re fighting back from him scooping you in his arms and tossing you on the couch, straddling you, even taking your two wrists in his massive paw and holding them above your head. Your lips wobble in anticipation, and he’s got you booked now. “Any last words? A quick ‘I hate you,’ maybe?”

You blink, bored, almost calling his bluff, and he comes up to smack his face in frustration. He wasn’t actually bluffing, he did have full intentions of making you scream, but he was so sure you’d crack under his gaze, even a quick kick to him as he was adjusting your body.

No dice.

With a shrug, hands come down quickly to tickle the meat of your ribs, settling in the dips and scratching at the bones maddeningly. He sees your lip become wobblier, and he smirks down at you. “Nothing? Not even a giggle? You must be pissed at me.”

You screw your eyes shut to ignore him and he clicks his tongue, “now you can’t even look at me? That sucks.”

He leans down to nibble at your neck and ear, whispering little words against your skin to make you squeak. But it isn’t until he cheats and uses his mouth to blow a raspberry on your sensitive neck, an area he’s so used to pressing loving kisses to, that you finally crack.

“YOURE SO CHEAP!” You scream, followed by a flurry of laughter and struggling from his tight hold. Your laugh is whiny and desperate, feet digging into the couch while his fingers merely slither up and under your arms.

He smirks against your skin, “gotcha.”

“Fuck off!” You squeal, tugging as hard as you can in his grasp. “Stohop it!”

“Are you gonna keep ignoring me?” He asks. You shake your head back and forth, but he cocks a brow. “Is that a no? Are we going to talk about your issues with me, or am I going to have to tickle you for the next few hours?”

“HOURS?!” You howl.

He shrugs, “you ignored me for three days, least I deserve is to tickle you until you sob.”

“I wasn’t-“ you’re cut off by a flurry of your own giggles. “This isn’t-“ a few more yowls of your laughter when he digs in more. “FUCK OFF!”

“Nah,” he snickers. “This is more fun.” He does, however, stop his torment and pulls back, but he does look down at you impatiently. “Speak,” he echos from earlier.

You let out a few more titters slip past your lips, but you do sober up slightly, “you don’t even care that I was mad at you.”

“Uh, I was about to tickle you until you died, I think I cared too much-“

“No, Sukuna. You just didn’t want me to be mad. You never apologized and you never even bothered to try and make it better…”

This, oddly, has Sukuna’s heart twisting, squeezed with emotions and realization that he did mess up, pride couldn’t save him now and if he wanted to fix this, he’d have to prove it.

He sighs in truce, “I’m sorry, babe.”

“….”

“What?”

“That’s it?”

He rolls his eyes, “what else do you want me to say?”

“I want you to care that I was hurt!” You whine, raising on your elbows. “I want you to understand I was hurt, that you messed up! Not be so prideful and not admit it!”

“Alright, alright, jeez,” he groans. He locks eyes with you, and he knows you’re not going to like it, but he leans down to kiss you, using his two hands to cup your jaw, letting his thumbs stroke your bone lovingly. “I’m sorry. It must’ve sucked having to deal with my shitty ass apologies before. I never should’ve pulled that shit, and I hated not having you by my side.”

This, has you softening.

He presses another kiss to you, “I missed your laughter. I missed you scolding me. I missed you being sarcastic… don’t pull that silent treatment shit again, will ya?”

You hum happily, “don’t piss me off and I won’t have to.”

He blinks unamused, and as the thought of tickling you again crosses his mind, you lean up to kiss his lips giggling softly in the warmth. “I’m kidding. You and I both know you’re not going to stop pissing me off.”

“Love when you answer your own demands,” he chuckles.

The tightness in his soul loosens as you submit to his affections, and he does make a mental note to never piss you off so bad again where you go back to happy to never talk to him again. He hates it more than even he knows, drags him down and he feels like he’s missing a crucial part of himself.

But it is good to know he can get you back out of that funk.

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hgfictionwriter · 2 months

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Handy

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: Sometimes you forget Jessie’s an engineer. A very thoughtful, but shy one at that. One who feels more comfortable renovating your apartment than telling you she likes you.

Warnings: No warnings.

A/N: I'm hearing some fluff is in order. Hope you all enjoy!

"Where do you want this?" Jessie asked as she stood holding a large box in the doorway to your new bedroom.

You looked over your shoulder and pointed to the walk-in closet. "Over there would be great. Thank you."

"No problem," Jessie replied as she walked over and set the box down. She looked around as she stood. "Are you doing anything with the shelving in here?"

"Oh yeah," you said as you got up and joined her. "I'm going to move these shelves up and add another set here to create more storage."

"Smart. That'll be good," Jessie affirmed as she scanned the space.

You tried not to stare, but her profile, curious eyes, and the way her baby hairs stuck to her face after several trips to and from the moving truck made it challenging.

"Hey, I think that's everything."

Both you and Jessie turned when Janine's voice filtered in from the bedroom, seeing Kelli standing beside her.

"Oh amazing. Thank you so much, all of you. I'm sure your coach would have my head if he knew you helped me move, but I'm very grateful. And hey - no injuries! Knock on wood. I guess you all still have to make it home in one piece," you joked.

"Anytime," Janine said as she crossed the room and gave you a hug. "The new digs look great. Condo ownership looks good on you."

You laughed. "Thank you. And it's even better when highly trained athletes do all the heavy lifting for you."

"No unpacking though," Kelli joked. "That's where I draw the line." You held up your hands in mock surrender.

"I can handle that part. Thank you. Next round of dinner and drinks are on me."

Once everyone left and you continued the tedious task of unpacking, your phone dinged with a text. You retrieved it to see Jessie's name on the screen.

"Hey. I hope unpacking is going well. I just wanted to say that if you need any help redoing your shelves I'm happy to swing by. I like projects like that."

A small smile tugged at the corners of your mouth.

"Sometimes I forget you're an engineer. You've done so much as is - I already rolled the dice by getting you to help me move furniture and precariously packed boxes. I don’t want to push."

"I really don't mind! And setting up shelves is a lot less risky than holding the bottom end of the couch on the stairs while Kelli and Janine argue about how to angle it through a doorway."

You laughed recalling the scene in your mind. She had a point. Plus, spending some time alone, just the two of you, wouldn't be unwanted.

You'd met through Janine a few months back and had become friends in your own right since then, but it was still the norm that you typically only saw each other with Janine. This could be a nice change of pace. And, you know, if seeing her work in such a capacity would turn out to be eye candy - so be it.

"Alright. You've convinced me. When are you free? And please, please know that if you change your mind it's really not a problem at all. Please don't feel pressured or obliged."

"Excellent! Does next Sunday work for you? I'd say Saturday, but we have a game that afternoon."

"I'm aware lol. I'll be there, after all. Sunday sounds great."

"Right lol. Okay, Sunday it is! Let me know if you need me to pick anything up prior. I'm happy to."

"You're too sweet. See you then."

-----

"You brought your own drill set?" You asked with an amused smile. The blush on Jessie's face was immediate.

"Well, I didn't know what you had." Her voice rising in pitch. "And I have a spare battery. There's nothing worse mid-project than running out of a charge."

"Nothing," you mocked affectionately and she averted her gaze as her cheeks grew redder. You smiled at her and ushered her to the walk-in. "Okay, well, between the two of us I think we're all set. Let's get started."

It didn't take long for it to become Jessie leading and you helping. Going in, you felt you had a decent grasp of what to do, but as the work progressed, you realized how good it was that Jessie was here because she guided things with confidence and ease that you had to admit you probably wouldn't have had in her absence.

You were expecting this to be an all day venture, but with Jessie at the helm the work went by quickly and smoothly.

"Hand me that last shelf, please," she instructed calmly as she double-checked her work.

You were ready with it and handed it up to her. You watched in what you hoped was subtle appreciation as she set it in place.

She stood perched on the ladder, wearing her black hat and her shirt was tucked in. The tape measure was hooked onto her pocket and she wore a soft look of concentration on her face. When she took the shelf, her biceps popped as she lifted it and set it down on the brackets with ease. The pencil tucked behind her ear was the cherry on top.

Once she was confident the shelf was secure, she turned to you with a bright smile.

"All done! What do you think?"

"It's fantastic," you relayed, forcing yourself to refocus. And it was true. Not only was her workmanship thorough, but she'd tweaked a few things in your plan to optimize the setup even further. "Thank you so much. This is better than what I could've imagined. I owe you big time."

She shrugged and focused on her feet as she stepped down off the ladder. "No, it's all good. It was fun."

"Well, I really appreciate it. Truly," you went on, seeking eye contact, but she seemed to readily avoid it as she began cleaning up her tools. Eventually, she looked to you with a small smile.

"Don't mention it. Thanks for letting me help."

You rolled your eyes teasingly. "You're funny. Can I at least order us in some dinner and make you a drink or two?" You saw her begin to hesitate, a blush creeping up on her cheeks as she fidgeted. Early on, you would've immediately backed off, fearing you were making her truly uncomfortable, but by this point you knew she was just shy. And a bit skittish. You went on gently. "Consider it a small token of my appreciation."

She gave you a crooked smile as she distractedly readjusted her hat before seeming to catch herself and clasped both hands in front of her. "Okay, sure. That sounds good."

You two talked fairly late into the night and you noted how Jessie relaxed into the evening. Conversation was easy and naturally weaved from the light and fun to the more serious and heavy without getting uncomfortable or awkward. The night only came to an end because you had to work in the morning.

"Thank you again for all of your help," you told her as she stood at your front door, shoes, jacket and backpack on. "Not only does the closet look great, but it was a lot of fun - thanks to you. I can't help but think about projects half that serious that I've done with exes and they've turned into all out brawls. So, thank you."

Her posture straightened slightly and as she blushed with a nervous laugh. "Well, what can I say. We work well together." If you were right, the flush of her cheeks deepened. She averted her gaze, shuffling her feet a bit before she shoved her hands in her jacket pockets and nodded over your shoulder.

"You said you were going to change out the lighting fixtures in the living room, right?" She asked. Her smile morphed into a smirk. "I mean, I'm not an electrical engineer, but a couple lighting fixtures is no big deal. I could come over next week and help with those."

You gave her a smirk of your own, unknowingly looking her up and down.

"If you'd really like to. I certainly won't stop you."

The easy confidence she was trying to channel a moment ago flickered before she gave you a nonchalant shrug.

"Sure. It's not a problem."

"Alright," you accepted. "I'm looking forward to it. Thanks again, and good night." You leaned forward and pulled her into a short hug - something you hadn't done before - and it seemed to catch her off-guard as she very belatedly put her hands up around you as you were already beginning to pull away, and even then, her movements were stiff and tentative. When you fully broke away her face was beet red.

"Okay." Her voice was high and tight. She gave you a quick, awkward wave before turning to leave. "Have a good night."

-----

The next weekend rolled around and Jessie was yet again up on a ladder in your new apartment. She tilted her head and frowned in concentration as she installed the last set of screws on your new lighting fixture.

"Okay, go ahead and turn the breaker back on," she told you as she stepped down and walked over to the light switch. You did as you were told.

"Okay, done."

The switch went on with a soft click and light filled the room. You watched her before looking up at the newly installed fixture. She smirked.

"Looks good," she said. “How do you like it?”

“It's brilliant. Thank you again. But what I’m really interested in is this,” you said as you closed the space between you two and grasped her hand, she tensed at the contact, but didn’t pull away. You lifted her hand to see the cut on her knuckle.

“I knew it. Let’s get you cleaned up,” you said and at that she pulled her hand back, hiding it behind her back.

“It’s nothing. I’m fine.”

“I know you are, but still,” you told her gently, noting the embarrassed look on her face. “Indulge me. Let me at least put a bandaid on it.”

She grumbled in contemplation but eventually conceded. You smiled to yourself at how her head jerked away when you glanced up from her hand to catch her staring at you.

When you finished placing the bandaid on her you released her hand and took a step back. You waited to catch her eye and spoke, “Make sure you clean that up more when you get home.”

Her cheeks grew pink and she rolled her eyes. You caught the hint of a smile on her lips though.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Jessie stayed for dinner and a drink once more. Conversation flowed even easier, if that’s possible, than last time. You tried to hide the smile over how pleased you were by this since you and Jessie had been texting all week in between. It would've been understandable if you ran out of things to talk about by this point, but you didn’t - at all.

"I noticed there were a couple of dings in the drywall - probably from when we were moving stuff in. Probably Janine's doing - I'm much more conscientious," Jessie relayed with a facetious eye roll. "I could patch those up for you. I imagine the previous owners left some of the original paint or we could just get it paint matched."

You smirked at her from across the couch.

"You know, we could always just hang out - no reno job required. You don’t have to do something every time."

She blushed and took a sip of her drink.

"Oh, well, you know. I don’t mind."

"Well, how about we just hang out next time. If you are desperate to repair the drywall even after that, well, have at 'er. But maybe a work-free, normal hang out would be nice," you told her with a soft laugh. She nodded, blush fading as she returned your smile.

“Okay, that sounds like a plan." She swirled her drink, looking down at the churning liquid and speaking into it. "You could come over to my place? I could make us dinner. Or whatever." She finally mustered up the courage to look back up at you.

Now it was your turn to blush. You fiddled with your glass and offered her a hint of a smile. "Okay. That sounds nice."

————

“Whoa. That’s fancy,” Jessie commented as you set down a nice bottle of Chardonnay on her counter.

“Well, it’s my first time over. I had to break out the good stuff for you.”

Jessie grinned and retrieved a couple of glasses for you before setting down two plates of food on the kitchen table.

“This looks amazing,” you told her as you looked at the meal she prepared. “And I can’t help but think this just isn’t fair. You did all this free work for me and now you’ve made me dinner.”

“Was it free?” She squinted at you teasingly. “You had to listen to me babble on about metric versus imperial for a solid 20 minutes there.”

“I didn’t mind. I’d listen to that any day. I like hearing your facts and tidbits and about whatever you're interested in,” you assured her and she tried to conceal her smile. “How’d you become so handy anyway? I mean, I know you have this engineering background now, but still.”

She shrugged. “I liked helping my dad with projects around the house. Helping him build stuff. It was just always fascinating to me to see things come together like that and to know you did it with your own two hands.”

“That’s cute. And very sweet,” you told her as you took a bite. She dismissed your comment with a small wave of her fork.

“It’s not a big deal.”

“Well. I still think it’s cute. And I certainly reaped the rewards. Thank you again - seriously, for all of your help. You didn’t have to help me, and I really appreciate all the work you did.”

She took a sip of wine and peered at you over the glass, taking a moment to contemplate.

“There’s still that matter of the drywall,” she joked.

“You’re still on that, huh?” You said with a laugh. “What are we going to do when there are no projects left to work on?”

A faint blush began to form on Jessie’s face and she shuffled around in her chair a bit before taking a bite of food.

“There are always projects to be done. And if not, well, you’re the one who said we could hang out without a project to work on.”

You propped your elbow on the table and rest your chin in your open palm. “And the offer still stands. Clearly,” you gestured around her apartment. “If you’re interested.” Jessie dropped your gaze and flushed a deeper tone of pink.

“Yeah. I mean, we get along alright.”

You snickered a bit before taking a sip of your drink.

“What resounding affirmation," you said dryly and she shot you a bashful look. You smirked. "I guess it’s settled then.”

You polished off the bottle of wine that evening and your conversation carried you late into the night. You made a point of not checking the time and Jessie made no attempt to either. You had to work in the morning, but you just didn't care. You'd deal with the consequences later.

At some point though, an inevitable yawn escaped Jessie.

“Oh, I should let you get to sleep,” you offered, though not yet moving from your spot on the couch next to her. You were sitting across from one another and you were very aware of how if either of you shifted in a particular way, your legs would brush.

“No, it’s fine,” she dismissed. “I’ll get my second wind here in no time.” You chuckled and finally checked your phone. Your eyes went wide.

“Oh shit,” you laughed. “Well, I’ve worked off of less sleep before.”

“You didn’t tell me you were working,” she frowned at you. “Yeah, some clients are in from out of town. It’s okay, I wanted to hang out with you.” You reluctantly rose from the couch and she followed. “As much as I'm enjoying myself, I should go. I can get about 4 hours of sleep if there are no delays on the train.”

“You are not taking the train,” Jessie told you in the most stern voice you’d ever heard from her. It actually caught you off guard and you ignored the stirring in your chest at her display.

“Fine. An Uber,” you conceded.

“No. I’ll drive you,” she countered.

“Don’t be silly.” You waved her off. “You’re tired too and I’m not making you drive 30 minutes across town and back at this hour.”

“Then…I don't know, just spend the night.” She immediately held up her hands in defense. “Not like that. I just mean…it’s super late, getting home is going to be a pain. I’ll drive you home in the morning whenever you’re ready.”

“Jessie…” It was tempting. The logic wasn’t entirely bulletproof, but reasonable enough.

In the time you took to start contemplating, Jessie had run to the closet and started pulling out spare pillows and blankets. You looked at them when she returned and gave her a discerning look. You didn’t feel uncomfortable, you just didn’t want to intrude.

“I’ll take an Uber in the morning.” You told her and she gave you an easy smile as she began setting up the couch.

“I’ll drive you,” she repeated nonchalantly.

“Oh my god. You’re so stubborn,” you complained half-heartedly.

“Sometimes,” she admitted with a shrug as she went to her room for a few moments and came back out with a set of pyjamas.

“Don’t tell Janine. She’ll never let me hear the end of this,” you warned in mock petulance as you went to take the clothes from her. She pulled her fingers across her lips, feigning a zipping motion.

“She wouldn’t let me hear the end of it either, so I'd say we're now partners in crime,” she laughed, but held the clothes back from you. “These are mine. Yours are on the bed.”

“Huh?” You asked, giving her a blatant look of confusion.

“I’m sleeping out here. You take the bed,” she returned lightly and before you could retort she gently began to corral you towards her bedroom.

“Jessie.” You protested. “Are you nuts? I’m taking the couch.”

“Incorrect,” she refuted before giving you one final, soft push into the room. “I’ll see you in the morning.” She looked up at the ceiling, seeming to calculate something in her head. “6 am?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed, still giving her a lingering look of disapproval. Before you could conjure a retort, she went on.

"This is my house, so what I say goes," she said rather haughtily, coupled with a subtle smirk. She was evidently very pleased with herself and her mannerisms had you too distracted, a small flutter echoing in your chest, so you let it be. You rolled your eyes.

“Fine. Okay. Well, if you change your mind - feel free to kick me out. Of your bedroom or the apartment - either is fine.”

“Now who’s nuts,” she quipped. Her light and easy demeanour wavered slightly as she paused in the doorway and ran a hand through her hair. “Um, well, bathroom’s through there. Help yourself to whatever. Good night.”

You were still in vague disbelief about how the last part of the night had unfolded as you lay in Jessie’s bed, wearing her clothes. Had you previously imagined being in Jessie’s bed? Yes. Did you imagine this? No. Certainly not.

All things considered, you slept pretty well. You didn't expect yourself to, so it was a surprise when your alarm went off. It took you a few moments for your mind to reconcile the unfamiliar surroundings, but you quickly came to. You sat up, the first rays of morning light illuminating the room and you observed them in a more lucid headspace than you had the night before.

The room was neat, organized, minimalistic in a way, but still had plenty of things that made it Jessie. A few framed photos of family and friends, her camera, a few, select books neatly displayed, some cute trinkets from her trips around the globe - no medals on display though. How typical.

A sound from the kitchen pulled you from your observations with a frown. You thought you were hearing things at first until you heard a few more faint sounds.

You quickly got changed and tentatively opened the bedroom door a crack to peer out. Not only was Jessie up already, she was in the middle of making breakfast. You opened the door the rest of the way with a puzzled look on your face. She turned to you with a smile.

"Morning! How did you sleep?"

"How long have you been up?" You asked instead. She glanced at her watch.

"I don't know. 30 minutes maybe? So, how did you sleep?" She repeated her inquiry.

"Shockingly well," you replied with a light laugh as you leaned on the kitchen counter and watched her work. "How about you? Miss I-insist-on-taking-the-couch."

She shot you a smirk over her shoulder as she scrambled the eggs in the frying pan. "I slept perfectly well, thank you," she relayed pointedly. "Coffee?" She asked.

"Please."

"Black, right?"

You smiled at her. "Yes, thank you. Can I do anything to help you?"

"Nope, just about done," she told you as she handed you a travel mug with steaming hot coffee. "For the road," she explained.

You watched Jessie as she turned back to the stove and continued making breakfast. For a split second, you pictured yourself as a couple in this moment. Easy mornings together, sharing breakfast and coffee, talking about your day ahead, kissing each other goodbye and going your separate ways until you came home to one another. You cleared your throat and shook out your head subtly as you came back to reality. You didn't want to get too far ahead of yourself.

You both ate a quick breakfast together, and took your toast and coffee to go. Jessie navigated through traffic on the way to your apartment. You scolded yourself internally for how you found something as simple as Jessie driving, attractive. Okay, maybe you really had it bad for her.

"I have to say, I feel like I'm 18 again or something," you joked. "Getting 4 hours of sleep, going through a whole bunch of hoops just to get to school - or work in this case - on time. It's ridiculous. But it was fun." You took a sip of your coffee. "I bet you were in bed by 10 every night in uni - minus late game nights, if that was a thing. But 8 hours of sleep, very responsible, all your readings and homework done."

Jessie shot you a mild glare.

"I've had some wild nights," she countered, not sounding entirely convincing, or even remotely, really. It endeared her to you more.

"Oh yeah, I bet you were a real bad girl," you teased. Jessie rolled her eyes.

"Oh, and like you were."

You sat primly and gave her a sly smirk. "Wouldn't you like to know."

You bantered back and forth the rest of the drive, and again, it felt like you were already something you were not. You found yourself lamenting your arrival as she pulled up to your building. Pushing aside your disappointment, you instead leaned over the middle console and gave Jessie a fleeting kiss on the cheek. She startled at the touch.

"Thanks for driving me. And for letting me spend the night. And for dinner," you frowned as you added things to the list. "I've gotta start pulling my weight here."

"No," she said in a strained voice, her cheeks flaring up as she glanced at you before her eyes darted away. She laughed nervously and scratched the back of her neck. "Don't mention it."

You gave her forearm a quick squeeze, a blush threatening to form on your own face at how firm the muscles were there, and stepped out of the car. You walked to your door, quickly strategizing if or when to turn back and wave when you heard her call out your name. You turned around with a puzzled look on your face.

"Uh, I could drive you to work? When you're ready?" She offered from the car through the now-open window. Her face burned impossibly brighter red. "It'll be faster than the bus."

You smiled openly at her.

"Oh, you're just spoiling me now." She smiled in return. "Well, who am I to say 'no'?" ------

A/N: Part Two is available here.

#jessie fleming #jessie fleming x reader #woso #woso x reader #jflem #woso imagine #canwnt #portland thorns

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apuckishwit · 1 year

Text

When Your Boyfriend's a Reformed Mean Girl

100 percent inspired by this tiktok: https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTR75sjkf/

Time seems to do wierd things for Eddie Munson.

It's something Steve has gotten used to, in the year they've been dating. Eddie is attentive and affectionate, always makes sure Steve needs are being met, always goes the extra mile to let Steve know how much he loves him, how much he cherishes their time together. In many ways, he's the best partner Steve's ever had.

Just...sometimes things like approaching deadlines and important dates seem to literally not register in his brain until it's almost too late. And not even then, sometimes.

Eddie acknowledges that it's a problem. He puts every effort into finding workarounds. There is a calendar hanging at both his (brand new, government-funded) trailer and Steve's house, hanging right by the door with color-coded schedules and a pack of Post-It notes and a cup of pens sitting on a little table below it in case something changes or comes up. Steve has a dedicated half hour every night where he's allowed to remind Eddie of things they have coming up, or ask if they've been added to the calendar and Eddie is one hundred percent not allowed to gripe about being nagged in that thirty minutes. Not that he would, because most of the time there's at least one, "Oh, shit, forgot about that." When something slips through the cracks, he apologizes promptly and sincerely if it's something that affects someone other than him and he is always trying to do better.

Steve understands. Hell, after as many concussions as he's had, details get away from him too sometimes. There's several color-coded blocks on the calendar for Steve, as well. Sometimes, Eddie just forgets things despite his best efforts.

But their anniversary? The date that Steve has been carefully planning for almost a month to celebrate their first (of hopefully, many) year together as a couple? Really?

Eddie is going to be horrified.

He is going to feel so bad, and so guilty, and he is absolutely going to go all out to make it up to Steve. Steve knows this. He knows Eddie loves him, and that Eddie was looking forward to tonight as much as he was, and that this is just an instance of Eddie's brain betraying him, and not him actively trying to hurt Steve, or be dismissive of him. Eddie is going to feel awful when he realizes that he stood Steve up on their one-year anniversary to fight imaginary dragons with the boys. Hell, the boys are probably going to feel awful when they realize they gave Eddie something else to focus on in the lead-up to his one-year anniversary.

Well. Dustin, Lucas, and Will are going to feel awful. Mike will probably think it's hilarious.

The point is, Steve knows Eddie didn't do this on purpose, and it's not that Eddie doesn't value his time with Steve enough to remember the date, and so he's merely irritated. Maybe a little exasperated. Not truly angry.

All he has to do is radio over to Wheeler's place and remind Eddie what the date is. His boyfriend will literally drop everything, will probably not even bother to pack up his precious miniatures and dice before he's tearing out of the driveway and breaking every traffic law imaginable to get to Steve's house. Steve doesn't actually want Eddie to get a ticket or anything, though. Besides.

He's feeling a little petty.

There's steaks waiting to be tossed on the grill, twice-baked potatoes in the oven, and a fucking homemade chiffon cake with fresh strawberries and whipped cream chilling in the fridge. Eddie's gift is sitting on the counter, in an elegant little gift bag tied with black ribbon.

"Hey Rob, you wanna come over for dinner?" he says into his walkie, deciding to let Fate decide if his boyfriend is listening and catches a clue.

"Do I get a piece of that cake you made?" Robin replies immediately, amusement already dancing in her voice because she's his (platonic) soulmate and she can read his mind.

"You can take the leftovers home," he says.

And then his (romantic) soulmate, who can usually read his mind, comes over the channel as well. "Have fun, babe!" Eddie says brightly. "This is probably going to run later than I thought. I'll probably just pick you up for breakfast tomorrow, okay?"

Steve rolls his eyes fondly. "Okay."

"Love you!" Eddie says, and signs off.

Robin brings a bottle of wine she stole from her parents' pantry and they demolish the dinner and half the cake. Steve does get another package of steaks out to thaw in the fridge for tomorrow, though, and blows out the fancy candles he'd lit before they burn too low to be used again. Fuck if he's making another chiffon cake, though, persnickety little thing. He calls Enzo's and orders a chocolate marble cheesecake to be picked up tomorrow.

"So you gonna milk this for a nice present or what?" Robin asks as Steve is packing the remains of the cake for her to take home, as promised.

"Nah. He's fucking perfect like 90% of the time...I'm not gonna get mad at him for the other ten." Robin smiles at him, a little gooey-eyed. Steve returns it with a smirk. "But I'm not letting him off the hook entirely."

He has just finished putting the dishes away when he hears the rumble of Eddie's van in the driveway. He glances down at his watch, laughing to himself a little when he notes that while late, it is far, far too early for a gaming session to be done. He scoops his little gift bag off the counter and saunters to the front door just in time for a frantic knocking to sound. He schools his features and opens the door.

"Steve! Stevie, baby, I am so, so sorry. I swear to God, I had tonight written down in like five different places, but Dustin wanted to try a new character class and we haven't done this campaign yet, and I got so excited...I'm so sorry I forgot, but I'm here and I SWEAR I will make it up to you!" Eddie pauses for breath, wild-eyed and panting.

Steve holds the silence for a moment, and then shakes his head, leaning forward to drop a kiss on Eddie's cheek. "You're such a nerd," he says, affection dripping from his words. He sighs. "I hope you know, now I'm expecting flowers tomorrow. And I get to pick the movies for, like, two weeks with no complaints."

Eddie almost wilts in relief. "Absolutely none," he promises, reaching out to grip Steve's hand. "I will make tomorrow night AMAZING. I promise."

Steve smiles at him, his chest aching with the love he feels for this man. But he's still feeling just a little bit petty. He holds the bag out to Eddie, tilting his head coyly. "You can still open this tonight, though."

"Babe! I thought we said no gifts." He takes the bag in his hands, plucking at the ribbon.

Steve's smile turns just a little sharper. He worked fucking hard on that cake. "It's kind of for both of us, really. It's what I was gonna wear up to bed tonight."

Eddie peeks in the box, his brow furrowing. "Stevie...there's nothing but strawberry lip gloss and a bottle of lube in here." He looks up, and freezes as his brain catches up with what his mouth just said.

Steve leans forward and kisses him, hard, long, and absolutely filthy. "Suffer," he whispers against his boyfriend's lips.

Then he shuts the door in his face.

#Steddie #Steddie fic #stranger things #Stranger things fic #steve harrington #steve x eddie #eddie munson #adhd eddie munson #My writing #I couldn't resist!

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Dolcezza Extra I

Read Dolcezza here | ~4.7k words

From me: this is something I’ve never done before: an alternate idea to something I've already written. I will be copying and pasting parts to keep the continuity but I hope you like it. It was pretty fun. The first couple paragraphs are from the original part. I’m sure you can all follow without me telling you all this. Have fun!

Warnings: stalking, scary (?) Also, no clue what kinds of protocols are supposed to be in place for this sort of thing. I don't think it makes a lot of sense logistically or law-wise. But that's not what we're here for, right?! I wanted it to kind of go right in the middle of Part 8, like starts in the beginning-ish part of it and end essentially in the same way.

It was one of those nights where everything was going wrong, and everything was too busy. Antonio was caring for Leo, the baby, and the missus—all sick with something Leo brought home from preschool, so Harry and Niall were left in charge. Normally, the sweet girl found her way down and situate herself at a station doing the takeout orders but given the little... spat (what else could he call it?) she seemed to be avoiding him.

His phone began vibrating in his pocket without pause for three full minutes, but he literally hadn’t a second to look at it. All he wanted was for the pretty girl to appear. He wanted to apologize profusely for overstepping. He just cared for her so much. Even if she wasn’t comfortable with how he handled things, he wanted to make it better. He cared so deeply for her it hurt to be apart from her without so much as a text message between them over the last two days. He managed to see her exit a car that wasn’t hers parked in her spot. At least her car was getting fixed. But he imagined she had another busy Friday and Saturday. He wished he could have helped more. Wished he didn’t mess up and revealed that he messed it up in a way he couldn’t fix it.

The moment the orders slowed, Harry was planning to race up her steps and beg for forgiveness.

Harry dropped a knife for the third time on the same onion he had been trying to dice for the last five minutes. He growled to himself, snagged it off the floor (nearly slicing his hand from his anger overtaking rational thought to pick it up by the handle), and all but tossed it in the sink.

“Why not just talk to her?” Niall muttered across the way.

“Shut up,” he snapped, bitterness coating his voice. Niall raised his eyebrows at him and shook his head. He turned the other way, turned his attention to the soup he was pouring into bowls. “M’going to,” he mumbled grabbing a clean knife as he started chopping again. “Sorry.”

He nodded. “It’s alright. Just thinking we could really use her help,” Niall smirked.

Harry snorted. “Y’could probably ask her,” he mumbled. “She’d come running t’help m’sure.”

“Yeah, but it defeats your whole she’s spreading herself too thin. And then I’m no different than rest, huh?”

Harry sighed, grateful for his understanding. “You’re a really good friend, Niall.”

“Don’t I know it,” he laughed. It was infectious. Hard to keep Harry in a bad mood and he prayed to God the orders slowed soon so he could run up and beg her to come help Niall and him because as much as he didn’t want to ask her for another thing, working with her on busy nights were some of his favorite moments.

Harry’s phone was still vibrating. He wondered if he set a timer for something and it was just going off continuously. “M’phone’s been ringing nonstop.”

“Mum?” Niall asked.

“No... she knows m’at work. Plus, she’d call the restaurant if it was an emergency. I gave her the number.”

“S’probably an alarm, yeah?”

“Yeah... probably.”

“Oh, she’s here,” Niall mumbled his gaze narrowing at the slip of paper in his hand. “Eggplant and two times the extra garlic bread…” Niall waved the ticket out like he always did when they realized the arrival of Harry’s Principessa.

Well, at least Harry wouldn’t have to sprint upstairs to apologize. Still, it was odd she didn’t make herself known when she got there even if they weren’t exactly on speaking terms. Harry glanced toward the window for a peek to see if she was there, but he was too far away. “Niall did you see her?” He asked.

“No…” his voice was low, over the bustle of the few staff that were in the kitchen, Harry hardly heard him. Like he was piecing a puzzle together. He was studying the slip. Like it would give him the hint.

“See who?” The hostess asked. She was grabbing a take-out order off the counter that Niall had just finished packaging. Niall slid the ticket into the holder still examining it.

“Principessa,” Niall mumbled. “She always orders extra garlic bread with her eggplant.”

“Oh yeah she’s here with her brother or something,” Antonio’s nephew, Matteo, jumped right into the conversation as he brought back empty plates from the dining room.

Harry’s head snapped up from the veggies he was cutting and tossing into a pot to make a sauce. “Brother...?” Harry didn’t think that made sense at all. He remembered seeing “James groceries” on her calendar while he cleaned earlier in the week. It was always done on a day when James had to work in the evening so there was no way he would have come all the way out here for dinner. Still, he thought Harry would have known if James was here—between his protective brother streak or even just saying hello and thank you for the food. Harry thought she would bring him right back here to the kitchen and make herself at home.

But maybe Harry misread it. Or maybe James finally suspected she was tired and strung out and was taking a step to help with his kind older sister.

“Well, it’s not dinner with you; so, who else would it be?” Matteo reminded them with a shrug.

Niall gasped dropping the plate he was holding, and it shattered to the ground. Everyone stopped to look at him and he grabbed the ticket once more. Like it finally revealed the missing clue. At the same time Harry dropped the fourth knife he was using because if Matteo hadn’t said “who else would it be” they might not have put it together right then.

Harry hurried to the window and searched. “Where’s she sitting?” His voice was hurried. There was a one second pause. “Matteo, now!”

“Corner, near the door. What’s—”

“Niall...” Harry’s body felt weak and shaky. His blood was hot and boiling immediately. His vision was getting blurry at the edges, and he had never felt so close to throwing up in his whole life. Not even when he had the flu in university.

Why was his phone vibrating still?

“Oh no,” he murmured reaching for the phone in his pocket.

“Shit!” Niall hissed looking at the direction of the man sitting across from the pretty girl all the way across the restaurant.

Harry slid his thumb across his phone without taking his eyes off the table across the main room. The weakness he felt ached through every inch in his body. “Eleanor, I—”

He yanked the phone away from his ear as she responded, loudly, shouting. “Harry! For the love of GOD! Do you never look at your phone!? Why do you even have one!?”

Harry felt sicker at the accusation. How could he not look at his phone? “El—”

“Harry it’s bad,” Eleanor sobbed, barely getting the words out. Harry could hear Louis shushing her as best he could. “It’s really bad.”

It was every one of Harry’s worst nightmares.

She was trying to process why the door was open. She quietly stepped back from her own door, but she wasn’t in control of her own body. Her heart was beating a little faster than normal. Her brain tried to reason with her muscles that there had to be a reasonable explanation. Instead, her muscles continued moving; she pressed the volume button on her phone to turn Eleanor’s voice down even though she continued rambling about how Harry adored her, and she was pretty sure he was in love with her too.

Not even the idea of Harry loving her could shake the nerves away.

“El... Eleanor,” she whispered listening intently to Antonio’s office door distinctly closing and three foreboding footsteps reaching her door. The clinking metallic sound of someone fiddling with the lock on her door came next. She had the phone pressed to her lips trying to soundlessly alert Eleanor as best she could as she scurried backwards as if the door was on fire. “El! STOP!” She hissed listening for more sound.

“What?” She could hear the eye roll in her friend’s voice. “You have to confront these emotions Harry is—” There was a low voice cursing outside her door as the lock was fiddled with more and she stepped back as the door opened. Her jaw dropped along with her phone smacking to the ground. She could faintly hear Eleanor calling at the sound of the noise.

The man before her smiled excitedly, relieved. “You’re home. I knew I’d find you,” he sighed with relief reaching for her. Instinctively she took a step back, it took every ounce of her self-control to keep from throwing up all over herself or the not-so-stranger. “I’m so glad I’ve found you; I missed you so much.”

Her heart was pounding erratically. Her only saving grace was knowing Eleanor heard. She reached for her phone. Autopilot. Grab the phone that clattered to the floor.

He kicked it out of the way. “You don’t need that,” he assured her with an easy smile. She straightened; cleared her throat.

“I…don’t?” She whispered. She should have spoken louder so Eleanor could hear. Of course, she loved her apartment, and she loved Antonio and the little family he invited her to be part of that was Dolcezza. Right then, however, she wanted to cry that her apartment was soundproofed beyond auditorial recognition. Her eyes dropped to the fabric in his hand. She swallowed the bile that continued rising in her throat while he looked at her as if he had known her his whole life.

“No,” he shook his head.

Her mind wasn’t working. She was exhausted and terrified and poor Eleanor was screaming from the other end of the line. He grabbed the phone. “Hi Eleanor,” he said simply. “She’s okay. We’re going on a trip, she’ll be safe with me,” he assured her.

Then he left her phone on the side table. Hanging up and leaving it there. It started to vibrate immediately; Eleanor desperate to hear her answer again. Instead, he ignored it, held his hand out for her to take. “I need my stuff—” she stepped toward her bedroom, but he grabbed her arm. She yanked it away, like he burned her. She gasped at the touch, and he frowned.

“Sorry—”

Her fight or flight kicked in and she bolted for the bathroom. It would lock and she would drop from the second story if necessary or scream until Harry heard her.

Oh. Harry.

Right as she tried to slam the door shut behind her his foot got in the way. She yelped as he grabbed her arm and yanked her out of the room. “Honey, stop fighting me,” he grumbled bitterly. She felt so sick. So scared. She wanted to scream and cry but it would be useless. No one would hear her. She needed to make someone hear her.

Slowly, painfully slowly, her brain started to work. It wasn’t much. But she prayed silently to herself that it would be. She took a shaky inhaled breath. “I’m…sorry,” her voice cracked, and tears welled in her eyes. She couldn’t look at him. She was too scared. It was a nightmare, but she could feel the way her teeth bit into her cheek. It wasn’t something she would be waking up from. “I’ve had a really long week and a really long day. I haven’t eaten yet,” she whispered. “I was going to go downstairs and eat at the restaurant,” she sniffled. “Can we do that? A date?” It tasted sour in her mouth to say it. Her fingernails dug into her palms reminding her further it was a nightmare. It had to work. Please let it work.

“A date?” He mused. He stuffed the fabric in his hands into the pocket of his pants.

“Please,” she whispered. “I’m starving.”

“And then we can go to my place?”

The idea was so nauseating, so terrifying, she worried that it wouldn’t work. If the food got to her table, she was so incredibly scared she wouldn’t be able to eat it. Her whole body felt shaky and clammy. Like when she had the flu. One bite and she would be puking all over her table.

But hopefully that would get Harry’s attention.

“Okay,” he agreed and held his hand out for her to take. It felt like cheating on Harry to hold someone else’s hand. She forced the tears behind her eyes and willed the nausea to stay in the pit of her stomach.

She placed her hand in his.

Harry was pacing trying to figure out how to tell her he knew. Niall was on the phone with the police begging for no sirens and no lights. Eleanor was, in the smallest of possible ways, relieved to hear she was in the restaurant and not halfway to somewhere they didn’t know.

Harry couldn’t see her face. It killed him. Why didn’t he go up sooner? Why didn’t he beg for her to come down and help so they could make up? Why didn’t he insist and help her stubborn self the way he wanted to?!

“Goddamnit!” He shouted and shoved a bin of clean cutlery on the floor. It was so loud the restaurant ceased to make noise for a prolonged moment.

“Harry,” Niall was off the phone with the police Eleanor sobbing in his other ear no doubt. “You need to be smart. They cannot leave before the police get here or we’re fucked. Eleanor already sent the detective on her case to his old place of residence and there is no sign of him there. So, if they leave…” he trailed off and Harry released a strangled noise from his throat. Not quite a cry, not quite a yell. The pain was so intense from the thought he thought he could feel it in the atoms of his body. “If you cannot have a controlled response...,” Niall warned without finishing the sentence.

Harry swallowed the feeling of being sick down. He knew what Niall meant. “Okay,” he croaked.

Everyone was still trying to work. But the whispers ensued. Within moments, everyone knew. Everyone was trying to piece together a plan and Harry felt so confused, so lost, so scared because the only one he could ever imagine getting out of this situation was his sweet Principessa herself.

“Alright,” he cleared his throat. He needed to be brave. She needed him. She never needed anyone. The weight of that made him terrified. Shaking his head he pressed the heels of his palms in his eyes to stop the stressed tears from escaping. He swallowed and shook his head again. She did the hard part. She got herself in the restaurant and Harry’s attention without even talking to him. “Niall, bring out the garlic bread in three minutes,” he ordered while untying his apron and heading for the door to the alleyway. “Tell Eleanor to tell the detective to hurry.”

The restaurant was easily one of her top five favorite places in the world. But right now, she wanted to scream and run from it. Where was Harry or Niall?! God, she wanted to kill Matteo. How did he not know? Wasn’t everyone under a silent direction to tell Harry when she arrived?

The worry began to take over. Harry wasn’t coming to her rescue because he didn’t want to. She pushed him away and he was going to let—

No.

Harry, despite how mad he might have been, would never let anything happen to her. She was certain.

Wasn’t she?

Perhaps Harry really just didn’t know. It was unfortunate, but there was nothing she could do about it. Especially without any indication that anyone knew she was there. Her back was to the restaurant, and she was still in her gym clothes. With her back turned, hair in a ponytail, she was probably less recognizable than normal. That had to be it. He had no idea she was there.

It was a miracle she could keep her breathing as even as she did. The thoughts started to spiral further. Maybe he wouldn’t know. It was really busy in the restaurant—Matteo might not have noticed she was there with a stranger when he seated them since the hostess wasn’t there. Maybe he didn’t tell Harry yet.

Her heart was beating so loudly in her ears it was hard to hold a conversation with him almost because she couldn’t hear him; more so than the fact that she didn’t want to talk to him. But she didn’t have a choice. He asked her about work, her family, and if she had been reading anything good. She wasn’t into it—it was obvious and she wished she was because the only thing that was going to save her was being able to play it off that she didn’t want to crawl out of her skin at the sight or sound of him. Her stomach was churning, and her voice was so quiet she wished she could do a better job acting but she was terrified. Pain started behind her eyes, and she wanted to scream.

“Good evening.”

Her head snapped up to Harry briefly, who seemingly appeared out of thin air. Her jaw dropped silently. She was really beginning to believe that he wasn’t coming to her rescue. But now he was there. He knew she was there. He was going to help. She was sure of it.

He knew she was there.

Her heart started to pound in a new way, still scared but for the first time in twenty minutes she took a deep cleansing breath; relieved. She looked at her lap afraid to give it away that she knew him. “We are very short staffed this evening. We’re extremely sorry for the delay,” Harry sounded so formal, and she couldn’t look at him. If she did, she would cry. “Your food will be out as soon as we can. Please be patient with us. We’re very sorry.”

If she looked up, she knew his eyes would be looking at her. She knew his apologies weren’t about the food. The gravity in his voice said he was sorry because he didn’t know she was there sooner. He was sorry he didn’t come upstairs or to her rescue faster. A tear slipped across her cheek. “It’s okay,” she murmured. “Do you have a bathroom?” She asked.

“I don’t think—”

“Of course,” Harry interrupted hurriedly; she could practically hear the excitement in his voice. Like he was grateful she had a plan because he was a little stuck, a little lost. It made her feel weak immediately. The worry Harry must have felt because of her made her feel guilty and sad. She wanted to fix it and it was hard she felt like she was balancing on a tightrope. She hoped Harry wouldn’t hate her for running the second she had the opportunity. “I’ll lead you,” he offered.

“You just used the bathroom upstairs, honey,” the man reminded her. His voice was tight.

He was going to be mad if she left; that much was evident. “Well, I just—” She started.

“She’s all set, actually. Thank you.”

Harry stared at him. Weighing his options. She could see it. She cleared her throat. “Um...it’s okay,” she whispered quietly. Refusing to look at Harry again. If she did, she was going to blow what little cover she had. Poor Harry. “M’just a little tired,” she assured him, trying to sound braver than she felt.

“S’back and to the left,” Harry murmured and then headed to the next table and explained the short-staffed shift again. She wondered what he was thinking and what he was saying to the table. They looked like regulars, but she wasn’t completely sure because her mind was frazzled. Harry leaving her to fend for herself, even though he was only four feet away at most had her aching for him more than she ever wanted to hold his hand in her whole life.

Harry was losing his mind. He knew she understood his apology for taking so long. He knew that she understood between the lines that he was apologizing for Matteo’s mistake in not telling him sooner. Harry would have been out in the dining room so much faster. As much as it pained him to see her seated across from another man, regardless of the circumstances. It would have been better if she was with another guy in general. At least he wouldn’t be worried sick about her safety.

It took every bit of his strength to keep blowing their cover. To keep from shaking while he told the next table that they were short-staffed. They quietly inquired about the strange man sitting with the sweet girl they all had grown to know as their sometimes-waitress and Harry’s lovely Principessa. He quietly murmured something and then casually bumped into the table dropping the knife near the edge to the floor. As he bent to grab it, he murmured to the guy, pleaded with his eyes as he tried to whisper devoid of emotion. “Do not let her leave with him.”

Harry moved to the next table—strategically he chose the tables that allowed him to keep her in his peripheral. It was killing him. The shaking was becoming uncontrollable, and the whisper beg to the couples, imploring for help from the people he had gotten to know over the years, was getting strangled in his throat as he moved to the third and fourth table.

He was at a loss. The bathroom was a great idea, but he hadn’t a clue as to how to get her from point A to point B. Maybe he could pour hot soup on her, insist she come to the kitchen for help. But he wasn’t sure he wanted to spill their hot soup in her lap either. He supposed he could throw ice cubes in it and make it less horrible on her delicate skin, but he had to do something! His mind was spiraling. He wouldn’t see her in his peripheral in just two more tables and he was already about triple the distance of what he wanted to be from her—granted even an inch of space given the scenario seemed more horrific than he could bear.

He was feeling nauseous. Maybe he should just grab her by the hand and pull her away. But they had a chance to get rid of him. To keep him away from her once and for all. He violated the restraining order. That had to be something. He would have to go away.

Despite the fact she was so close but felt like an entire galaxy away. Harry was crumbling internally. This poor older woman who had been coming in every Saturday for years looked at him with pity in his eyes as he repeated his spiel once more. The agony he felt was in every inch of his bones, every pore of his skin. His eye was twitching.

When he got her safe and out of harm’s way, he planned on never letting go of her. At least not for a few days. He was going to kiss her and hold her. Apologize to her and cook for her. He wasn’t going to let her out of his sight. Harry was going to tell her he loved her and didn’t care if she was stubborn or felt like she was hard to care for because she didn’t like to be needy. He was needy. He needed her. It was killing him to be so close and so far away. So helpless and terrified that he couldn’t help her the way he wanted to right then. Even scared shitless, he thought she was beautiful and brave. So brave. She got here. She got his attention. That had to mean something. She believed in Harry and that he would find her or know she was there despite the frustration and anxiety she felt.

It was hard to believe it was only three minutes since he actually talked to her and apologized for taking so long. Niall came from the back with a plate of garlic bread as promised. Niall was going to come up with the next part of the plan, Harry hoped. Hell, he would go back to the table, feigning exhaustion for apologizing twice. God, he needed to get a bowl of soup, he was going to have to spill it in her lap! It was the only way.

Harry listened intently as Niall arrived at their table. He could almost see the glitter of her tears in her eyes. Nearly crying again at the sight of Niall. He wanted to make a joke more than anything that it had nothing to do with Niall but everything to do with her favorite bread in his hands. But he was mortified. Speechless in front of a table waiting with waited breath as they heard the murmurs and the wisps of what Harry managed to mumble before Niall’s arrival.

“Garlic bread,” he announced, as if she didn’t know. “Buon appetite,” he winked casually. He was far better at lying and acting than Harry or herself combined. She was itching to run. Niall and Harry, both could stop him. Someone would tackle him, right? She was fluttery. Ready to leave as soon as she saw an opening because she didn’t know what else to do. “Can I get you two anything else?” Niall asked kindly.

“I know you,” he said. It lacked suspicion but was no less terrifying.

She could see Harry’s back straightened in her peripheral and his speech silenced. Matteo and the hostess were working from the other end of the room at the same time. Probably explaining the situation to every table as quietly as they could just like Harry was.

Without any tell in sight, Niall merely tilted his head and looked at him. “Hmm...sorry. M’not sure I recognize you,” he shrugged. Niall stepped closer, getting a better look at the man across from her. His acting skills deserved an award.

But in moving closer, Niall also blocked her a good margin from his view. It was her chance. She bolted. Running from the main room and toward the kitchen so fast it took a minute for anyone to realize she was gone. She zipped out the kitchen door, back through the alley, and up to her apartment. She heard a shout coming quickly behind her, so she had to be faster. She hurried back into her apartment unable to do anything but grab her phone off the table and run into the bedroom and hide in the closet, closing the door quietly behind her. She dialed Eleanor. Her heart pounding as she heard the sound of steps. She left the door open to make it look like she ran back out, but it was impossible.

He was already in the apartment. Already tearing through her belongings, shouting, upending her furniture, and rifling through everything.

“Babe?” Eleanor nearly screeched with relief.

“I can’t talk,” she whispered barely an audible octave.

“Okay, okay, I’ll stay on the phone,” she promised. “The police are on their way.”

general taglist: @justlemmeadoreyou @daydreamingofmatilda @sunshinemoonsposts @tiredinwinter @loving-hazz

@likeapplejuicenpeach @straightontilmornin @freedomfireflies @littlenatilda @kathb59

@babegoals @angel-upon @lilfreakjez @mleestiles @ameliaalvarez06

@canyonmoondreams @summertime-pills @daphnesutton @l4rrysh0use @perfectywrong

@foreverxholland @lovrave @st-ev-ie @pandeebearstyles @toosarcastic03

@luvonstyles @tenaciousperfectionunknown @classychalamet @love-letters-to-uranus @emmaawbr

@crossyourpeter @kissitnhekitchen @kittenhere @stylesfever @harryscherri

@indierockgirrl @michellekstyles @hermionelove @somethingabout1d19

Dolcezza: @matildasatellite @lovingfurypanda @sideboobrry11 @theresnooneheretosave @12yeahiminluvwu

@cohnfusedarling

I'm sorry if I missed anyone in the taglist. Please let me know if you'd like to join, if I put you on the wrong list, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :)

If you like this, check out my masterlist for more of my writing.

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mypoisonedvine · 2 years

Text

𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 • eddie munson x reader

sequel to 𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗼𝗿𝗲

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 • far too long after your rendezvous with that cute groupie you couldn't get out of your head, you finally make good on your promise to call.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 • 4k

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 • smut (18+ only), phone sex, m and f masturbation, discussions of oral f and m receiving and penetrative sex, subby eddie, pillow humping (kinda), fluff, pining, some angst, lots of dirty talk

Your manager was the one who convinced you to get a cell phone. It was a luxury item, it was a status symbol— it was bulky and heavy and you barely used it. She was still the only person who called you on it!

And you'd never even placed a call from the brick before, not in the first three months of owning it.

But, it's usefulness became more apparent when you were stuck on the tour bus, up later than usual, horribly bored. Not just bored, but… lonely, to put it nicely.

Your mind ran through some people you could call to take care of this problem, but it's not like anyone could get on the bus with you when you were going 75 miles an hour through the California desert.

That's when you remembered someone else; someone you'd never really forgotten.

Rolling on your side on the bed, you slid open your bedside drawer and searched until you found a folded up piece of paper. You opened it and beamed as you saw the numbers written in messy, boyish scrawl, snatching the phone so you could punch it in.

You held it to your ear as it rang, anticipation building.

"Hello?"

You smiled as you heard the familiar voice, blurting out, "Eddie?"

The next pause was so long that you almost worried you'd accidentally called the wrong number, but he finally broke it. "You know how long I've been waiting for you to call?" he laughed breathlessly.

"Sorry for the suspense, kid," you smiled. "Got busy."

"That new album— wow," he began immediately. "I was worried when you put out a ballad as a single, but damn— it was such a good record!"

"The label picks the singles," you explained.

"You just keep getting better," he sighed. "You're incredible."

"You flatter me," you cooed.

"How've you been?!" he asked excitedly.

"Uh, you know, the usual. We're doing a tour in Europe this time, kinda crazy," you hummed.

"Tell me all about it!" he encouraged.

"Oh, it's boring," you dismissed.

"No, seriously, I have a geography final tomorrow."

You laughed. "I forgot how funny you are."

"Well, I try…"

"And I forgot how sexy your voice is."

He paused for a second. "Oh, you think so?"

"Are you alone?"

"Y-yeah, whole place to myself," he agreed.

"Good. Because I want you to say some things to me that I don't need anybody else hearing."

You could all but hear his shiver, and you grinned. "Okay," he said shakily.

"Do you still jerk off to my poster?" you asked, point-blank.

"Yes," he answered instantly.

"Tell me how you do it," you instructed. "Tell me what you think about."

"Uh, fuck," he stalled as you slipped your hand into your panties. You were already just a little wet from hearing him talk at all. "I mean, like, how I do it physically?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Well, when I'm thinking about you I get hard in a half second… so I just lay in my bed and look at it— your poster is right on the other wall. And I get it out of my jeans and start stroking my dick."

"You don't use lotion?"

"Only when I'm feeling… extravagant."

You smiled. "And, not to be too cliched here, but what are you wearing?"

"Well, uh," he stammered, "I run this club at my school? And we make— I make— shirts for everybody. So I'm wearing mine. And my leather jacket, and some ripped jeans."

"Sounds cute," you smiled. "This club, it's not the I fucked a celebrity club or anything, is it?"

"N-no, it's just a club for Dungeons and Dragons."

"Oh right— that, uh, Satanic game," you nodded.

"Oh! It's not actually Satanic," he corrected, "it's just an immersive roleplaying experience where you roll dice and you can do basically anything you want. It's a fantasy game!"

"Oh," you frowned, "I think I liked it better when I thought it was Satanic."

He snorted a laugh. "But you probably don't wanna hear about that. You could always, uh, tell me what you're wearing?"

"Gonna be a pretty short list," you warned. "I've only got my underwear on."

"O-oh, shit," he hissed, "that's hot."

It was only because you'd stripped out of your performance wear and got too lazy to put pajamas on.

"It would be even hotter if you didn't have anything on," Eddie added, and you laughed but respected his boldness.

"Not while you're still totally clothed, pretty boy," you cooed.

"Well I can get naked in, like, ten seconds," he offered.

"Oh, I'm sure," you grinned, "but not yet. I want you to just touch yourself through your jeans first."

"You… huh?" he mumbled.

"I'm sure you've got a nice bulge going," you assumed, "just rub your dick through your jeans— get even harder for me."

"O-oh, fuck," he groaned. "Okay, I'm doing it…"

"Does that feel good?" you pressed.

"Not good enough," he whined. "Obviously I don't usually tease myself this much."

"Well, this will be a fun new experience for you," you decided. "I'm teasing myself too, if that makes you feel any better. I'm playing with my clit really slow and gentle…"

"Fuck," he grunted, "you sh-should play with your tits, too."

"Yeah? I was thinking about licking my fingers and running them around my nipples, what do you think?"

"I think if those are the fingers that were just on your pussy, then that's really fucking sexy," he replied.

"They are," you promised, and he growled through his teeth.

"God, do it, I wanna hear it," he encouraged.

Pulling your hand out from your panties and bringing it to your tongue, you wet your fingertips and circled your hardening nipples one at a time. Your moan was totally natural, and louder than you expected.

"You sound so pretty," he praised, "I— god, I'm squeezing my bulge way too hard and it's not even helping. I need to be in you right now."

"I'd be so much louder if you were," you imagined, shutting your eyes, picturing him above you again.

"God, please, I'm so hard," he whimpered. "It fucking hurts, I need to—"

"Get it out, Eddie," you offered, and you heard him sigh so hard it was almost a moan as the sound of fabric shuffling came through the line. At the same time, you put your hand in your panties again, biting your lip while you rubbed your clit properly.

"Can I jerk off?" he asked dutifully, and you grinned.

"No, right now I just want you to rub it on something," you decided. "Is there anything in your room that's as soft as me?"

"Fuck no," he sighed, "for that to be true there'd have to be a girl in here."

"Have there, uh, been any girls in your room since you last saw me?"

There was a pause, and it made your heart catch. "Don't tell me you're jealous," he realized, lowering his voice in a way that made you shudder.

"So what if I am? I wish you were all mine, pretty boy— nobody else should get to feel that perfect cock of yours…"

He laughed a little. "Well, there have been a couple girls since you rocked my world in that bus, darling," he admitted. "But they were nothing compared to you."

It still made your jaw clench angrily. He shouldn't have told you— you were going to go harder on him now. "Come on, Eddie, something to rub your cock on, I don't have all night here."

"Okay, well, there's… something here…"

You raised an eyebrow. "And what would that be?"

"Um… you remember when I used your extremely tiny bathroom before I left?" he mumbled, and you grinned.

"Yeah…?"

"Well, there was a shirt on the floor— a black one? I guess you changed out of it that day but, uh… I might have… taken it."

You smiled wide, feeling your cunt pulse as you imagined him that desperate. "Naughty," you scolded.

"It was this old KISS shirt and it smelled like you— and I actually sprayed it with your perfume while I was in there too and… there's still a little bit of your scent left on it. I get rock hard every time I smell it."

"Then rub your cock on it. Put it on your bed and hump it like the needy boy you are, hm?"

"Sh-shit," he groaned, and you heard the bed creaking under his weight. "Fuck, it's— god, you're so— shit."

You grinned playfully at his obvious disdain for the teasing, but he was helpless to you now. "Keep going, do it just how you would fuck me," you encouraged, "give that shirt the night of its life, Eddie."

"Ohhh baby," he whined. "Fuck, I'm so fuckin' hard… I-I'm leaking…"

"Hm, wish I could lick that up for you," you cooed, laughing when he moaned loudly.

"You're so dirty," he groaned, "the things you say— oh my god—"

"I just like driving you crazy," you admitted.

"Yeah? It's working," he sighed.

"Are you still humping the shirt, Eddie?"

"Yeah, how I'd fuck you, like you said," he agreed. "I'm giving it, uh, long strokes— that's what made you moan the loudest, before. And you liked it when I went really deep."

"Yeah," you agreed, back longing to arch hearing him talk like that. "I liked feeling your cock all the way inside— I was afraid at first that you wouldn't fit…"

"Y-you're making that up," he coughed.

"No, really, I wasn't sure I could take it…"

"Well, fuck, you did," he sighed, "you took it so well— all of me, all of my… big c-cock…"

"Uh huh," you agreed coyly. "You're good at this, Eddie, you're making me jealous of my own fucking shirt."

"Don't make me come on it," he whimpered, "cause then I'll have to wash it and your smell will be gone— please, it's all I've got left of you."

Ouch. Leave it to him to drop those little heartbreakers when you were trying to be sexy.

"You don't need to come on it, in fact you can stop humping it altogether," you decided. "Stroke that pretty cock for me Eddie, I wanna hear you moan."

It was so loud, poor baby, he was so sensitive. "Thank you," he choked out, and your heart twisted.

"Just think about how much better it would feel if it was me instead of your hand."

"So much better, god, fuckin' perfect," he whined.

You smiled to yourself. "Do you miss my pussy?"

"So much— I always think about it when I do this."

"She's so wet for you right now," you taunted, making him groan.

"God, what I would give to slide right into your wet little hole, let you feel this cock stretch you out— I wanna feel you cream on me again."

"Uh huh? What else do you want?"

"I want— I want you to suck me off again, your mouth felt fucking amazing," he added.

"Anything else?"

"A-and I wish I'd gotten a chance to eat you out when we were together— I would've loved making you come on my tongue.”

“Well,” you smirked, “I certainly wouldn’t have minded that…”

“Yeah? Then maybe I would’ve made you come twice,” he purred, “again.”

“Bet you’re still real proud of that,” you giggled.

“Proud is an understatement— I’m waiting for my trophy any day now,” he corrected. “Shit, and making you come with my head between your thighs? Holding your hips so I can keep you just where I want you? Tasting how bad you need me?”

You moaned as you rubbed your clit harder and faster, your hips starting to rock on their own as your pleasure grew.

“Fuck, do that again,” he grunted. “Moan for me again.”

You couldn’t exactly force it to happen, but you did slide two fingers into yourself— just to feel full for a moment— and your next sound was lower and needier. “God, I miss your cock,” you admitted with a sigh.

“Just say the word, I swear on my life I’d be driving across the country to see you,” he sighed.

“But you can’t miss that— ah, fuck— that geography final,” you purred, making him laugh.

“Guess not,” he agreed. “F-fuck, I’m close…”

“Good,” you praised, “I’m so hot imagining you coming right now— making a nice big mess, jerking your thick cock, listening to me, picturing us together again—”

“Tell me it’s gonna happen,” he groaned, “‘cause fuck, babe— I dunno how I’m supposed to go on knowing it was just one night.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Shouldn’t you be happy with just one night? That’s more than most people get.”

He paused. “I should be, yeah, but m’not. It was too good for just once— the way I feel about you, I can’t be happy with just once,” he admitted with a heavy sigh. “If you weren’t gonna make me yours, you should’ve never touched me.”

As fucked up as it was, you nearly came when he said that— but you managed to hold back. Not because you got off to sad things, but because you felt the exact same fucking way. “You’re mine, Eddie,” you breathed. “Mine— fucking mine.”

“Oh god,” he whined, “I-I’m gonna come. Fuck. Please…”

“Come for me, Eddie,” you ordered, but he surprised you by disobeying (for now).

"I-I want you to come when I come," he pleaded.

"No, then I won't be able to focus on how cute you sound," you laughed. "I need to listen closely so I can imagine you're pumping that huge load into me instead."

"Fuck," he groaned. "That's what I'm imagining too. It felt so good to come inside you…"

"I loved all that jizz dripping out of me for the rest of the night," you recalled, "it felt so dirty but I fuckin' loved it."

"Oh fuck, oh fuck," he whimpered.

"After you left, I tasted it," you admitted.

"Oh fuck!" he said again, yelping. "I-I'm gonna come, I'm so close, just— just tell me somethin'."

"Tell you what?"

"Tell me you really care about me."

You gasped slightly. "Eddie, I…"

You surprised yourself when you realized what you were about to say. I'm falling for you. You tried to think of what else you could say, something that would be true and satisfy him without giving yourself away entirely. I think sometimes you're the only one who ever loved me for who I am. I miss you so much that I can't bring myself to call because I'll miss you more. I get scared because I worry you'd hate me if you knew me better. I regret letting you go even though I know it was right.

"I meant what I said before," you offered instead. "I need you."

"I— oh god— I need you too," he whimpered. "I'm gonna come, fuck fuck fuck!"

His high pitched whines dropped to a low, deep groan as he came— abrupt, choking sorts of moans that made it so easy to imagine every pump of hot come he was coating his bed with.

"Oh my god," he sighed, "fuck, I just… I came everywhere. Fuck."

He let out a breathless laugh and it was the sweetest thing you'd heard all day.

"I… I have no idea how to clean this up," he realized. "B-but you still need to come, right? Just tell me what you wanna hear, you can get off to my voice."

"I want to hear you beg," you decided.

"I— god, I'll try," he offered. "Uh, please? Please come…"

"Good start," you egged him on.

"I… I want you to," he kept going. "I wanna hear it, and I can imagine that I'm licking your cunt while you do it."

Fuck, he's not bad. "I'm close," you whispered, "Eddie, I'm close— just keep going…"

"Please, please," he whimpered, "let me hear it, come for me— I know you'll sound so damn good… please just come, I want you to feel as good as I do— you deserve to feel so good…"

You gasped as it hit you, a sharp stab of pleasure that made your fingers nearly cramp up— but thankfully they didn’t, and you were able to keep pushing yourself further and further into it.

“Fuck, s’good, you’re so good,” he praised, “you sound just like I remember— except, you know, you were louder with me.”

You smiled as you started to come down, hips bucking weakly while a wave of numbness settled over you. “Damn,” you laughed breathlessly, hearing Eddie laugh too. “I’ve actually never done that before. Phone sex— not masturbating, that I’m very familiar with.”

“I’m kind of surprised,” he replied.

“You thought I would’ve had phone sex by now?” you assumed.

“No— the masturbating thing,” he corrected, “I mean, you’re a superstar! You could just have this, like, endless line of guys who wait for you to get horny and you could have sex whenever you want.”

“Uh huh, endless line of guys?” you repeated, sinking into the sheets a little deeper— that relaxation that could only come in those ‘after’ moments only enhanced by talking with Eddie. He seemed to put you at ease so naturally. “I don’t have room for many more people in this bus.”

“Okay, then just one guy,” he added, his grin audible even through the layer of static. “One super cool, curly-haired, educationally-challenged metalhead guy!”

“Hm, he sounds like a lot of fun,” you considered, “and I do like the idea of getting laid every day.”

“Every—” he choked, starting over again as his voice cracked. “Every day?”

“What, worried you can’t keep up?” you smirked.

“Oh— no, that is… so not my problem,” he sighed, and you laughed. “I’m just dying a little inside because you’re calling me from heaven and I’m stuck in hell— which has been going by Hawkins, Indiana for the past several years.”

You smiled, softer than before. “I’ll send you a postcard. Wish you were here.”

“Yeah…”

The silence wasn’t quite awkward… it was comfortable, but somber, too.

“It’s too bad your tour didn’t stop in Indiana this time,” he finally blurted out.

“Oh, Eddie— I really tried,” you promised, sitting up. “But the venue changed their price, and the label wasn’t pleased, and I argued about it but—”

“Hey,” he interrupted with a laugh, “it’s fine. I’m a big kid, I can handle it.”

You sighed. “I know.”

“And I’ll wait for you,” he promised. “As long as you need.”

“Funny,” you laughed, “I always thought I was the one waiting on you.”

“Waiting on me to do what?” he wondered.

“Graduate!”

“Right,” he chuckled thinly, “that’s what everybody’s waiting on me to do. But I seriously don’t know if I can pass Ms. O’Donnell’s class.”

You sighed, shifting onto your side as you slipped under your covers; that orgasm took you out, and it was already later than you would normally go to sleep. “Tell me about it,” you offered.

“Well,” he sighed, “first of all, she assigns so much reading— and reading kinda gives me a headache…”

He talked for a while about it, venting about his issues, about the jocks in his class that bully him, about the teachers who didn’t really believe in him.

You listened, eyes getting heavier, the sound of his voice like a comfort for your mind similar to the blanket that was draped over your body. “And don’t even get me started on Mr. Young’s math class…”

“Eddie?” you interrupted.

“Huh?” he mumbled. “Oh, fuck, was I rambling again.”

“No, no, it was fine,” you promised, “I’m just getting pretty tired…”

“Oh… okay,” he offered.

“Will you stay on the line until I fall asleep?” you requested hesitantly.

“O-oh! Yeah, sure,” he agreed.

You couldn’t be sure how long he stayed on after you drifted off, soothed by the fuzzy sound of the silence over the phone— you had no way of knowing that he stayed on for hours and just listened to your breathing, hoping to hear you whisper or mumble to yourself, smiling when you snored for a minute.

All you knew was that when you woke up, there was a dial tone in your ear.

You hung up and put the phone away, its battery nearly drained, and snuggled yourself back into the sheets for a few more hours— hopefully able to continue your dream where it left off.

You called again a few months later, from what was technically your home phone— but the LA mansion never really felt like home.

An older, rougher voice answered after five or six rings. "Hello?"

"Um, is Eddie there?" you asked.

"No," the man answered flatly.

"Will… he be back soon?"

"Considering he doesn't live here anymore, I'm figurin' not."

"O-oh…"

"Who's callin'?"

"Uh, just an old friend. He's not… in jail or anything, is he?"

The man laughed heartily. "Amazingly, no. He moved to Indianapolis after he graduated—"

You interrupted with a beaming smile: "He graduated?"

"Yes ma'am, and he even got a few As on his final report card," he explained proudly.

You opened your mouth to ask for another way to reach Eddie now— a new number, maybe an address, but you suddenly stopped. He finally did it, he escaped. And he did it without you.

Maybe he needed to move on; really, it sounded like he already had.

Now that he was out of school he might ask to join you on tour like you promised over a year ago. It would break your heart to have to say no to him— if you could find the strength to. Worse, you were terrified that he wouldn't ask to be with you, that he'd be content without you… which simultaneously is what you wanted, and what you feared most.

You didn't want to know, was the main thing. You didn't want to find out the hard way that he didn't need you anymore.

"Listen, uh, next time you see him, just tell him to take care, okay?" you requested.

"Sure, can I get a name with that message?" the man pressed.

You wouldn't believe me if I told you. "You don't have to say it's from me," you decided. "Just tell him on my behalf, is all."

"O…kay…" he replied, confused. "I will."

You thanked him and hung up, looking around the empty house— someone else decorated it, and it looked good, but it was too empty and clean, too sterile. Why even have all this space if you had nothing to fill it with but noise.

Noise, that’s what you needed right now; you went upstairs to grab your guitar, suddenly realizing you had a new song to write.

part 3

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader

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wonderlandwalker · 3 months

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One Day at a Time | Finnick Odair x Reader

Previous Part / THG Masterlist / Inbox

Summary: a short collection of sweet moments shared between you and Finnick as you recover, reminding the both of you of the love you share

(part 4 of the remember series but could also be read on its own I think, you can find the other parts in my masterlist)

Content Warnings / Tags: Fluff, no use of y/n, mentions of punching, I really think that's it.

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: It's finally here! Sorry it took so long my only excuse is that I am an absolute mess of a human being which is a terrible one but oh well. This will be the final part of the series, hope the fluff makes up for all the heartbreak I've put you through <3

It's been a week now, one week of blissful moments spend with Finnick while recovering from the attack within district 13. After all that had happened you were in need of some peace, and the universe granted it.

On the first day you were still in the hospital wing, an IV dripping steady fluids into your system. You woke up to Finnick sitting next to you, one of his hands holding onto yours while the other was holding up a book. It was one of your favourites, and you had been pestering him about reading it so you could talk about it with him, but he had always brushed you off, saying he'd get around to it eventually. It seems eventually finally came around. You coaxed him into getting in the bed with you, he was hesitant at first, not wanting to hurt you, but he wasn't above your charms either, your eyes pleading with him in a way he couldn't resist. He had settled in behind you, letting you lean against him, ignoring the dirty look the nurse gave you. You had asked him to read to you, and even though you already knew it by heart, his sweet voice added a whole new element to the story so beloved.

The second day was spent trying to convince the nurse to let you leave the hospital room, if only for a few hours, she didn't initially want to agree, but Finnick simply wouldn't drop the subject. So you walked together towards the dinner hall, feeling like little children sneaking out past the curfew.

Supper had already finished, but Finnick was friends with one of the cooks who let him into the kitchens. He told you to sit down on the table in the middle of the room and gave you a quick peck on the lips before moving over to the fridge. It was simple, it wasn't much, but it was perfect. He would let you taste the dish in-between steps, always forgetting one ingredient or another, but you didn't mind reminding him. At some point you could have sworn he was doing it on purpose, but maybe he was just too caught up in having you there with him again. You offered to help with meting the butter, dicing the vegetables, stirring the sauce, but each and every time he would insist you stayed right where you were, accentuated with a quick kiss, his hands on your face smearing flour all over your jaw, not that you minded. He claimed he was the better cook anyway, that you'd only hold him back, now that one you both knew was a lie, but it was a precious one, one that didn't need to be disturbed.

Day three consisted of a slow day back in your room, having been cleared by the doctor and finally being in your own space again. You and Finnick hadn't shared a room in a while now with everything that had gone down, but you had immediately decided to spend your nights together again, not wanting to spend more time apart than necessary. You hadn't fully recovered yet, still needing your rest, but Finnick had set his mind on moving your things back into his room today.

So there you were, sitting crossed legged on his bed absentmindedly sipping on some coffee he had brought you as you watched him bustle about. He was only gone a few minutes at a time, but you never failed to produce a smile when you saw him approaching again, hands full with some of your books, the collection of flowers he had given you over the years that you had dried and pressed in-between the pages were sticking out slightly, but he handled them with care. Even while you weren't together you couldn't find it ins yourself to get rid of them, and you're glad of it now. He goes back and forth for a while, collecting your pillow, your skin care products, your small radio that barely managed to get a reception down here, but you couldn't bare to part with. Each time he'd ask you where you wanted him to put it down, carefully creating a space that consisted of the both of you.

On day four you had finally woken up in his arms again, wondering how you could have ever forgotten this feeling. When he noticed you were awake he had moved to place a delicate kiss on your lips, basking in the simplicity of the fact that he could. He had told you he had a surprise for you today, and you couldn't help how giddy you already got from the mere thought of what it could be. But it was oh so much better than you could have imagined, because today Finnick took you to the surface. How he managed to get you past all the checkpoints was beyond you, and when you asked he had simply said he had friends in all the right places.

It was a bit of a walk to the spot he wanted to take you, but you revelled in the sunlight against your face, needing to squint your eyes to see properly with how bright the sun was but too blissed to care. The high grass rustled against your bare legs as you continued to walk, and the tickling sensation brought back so many fond memories. When you finally made it to the clearing it was a sight from a dream. The tree next to the lake provided a shadow you could both comfortably lay in as the smell of the fresh water blessed your senses once more. The wildflowers adorning the space around you were once you could recall from back home, with a few others you couldn't identify. Finnick had picked a few, placing them behind your ear as he talked about what the flower meant. A myosotis, he had called it, representing true love and dedication. He told you about the myth behind the forget-me-nots, how they had been afraid of being forgotten by the gods, and you had vowed in return to never spend a day without thinking of him again.

During the fifth day you didn't do much of anything special, but you supposed that depends on your definition of the word. Finnick had made dandelion tea from flowers he had collected yesterday, the familiar taste bringing back a sense of nostalgia for a time that you wouldn't be able to return to. You had once told him your mother used to make it when you were sick, and ever since he would go collect them by the cliffs for you. You had insisted it was too much work that he didn't need to worry himself with, he had countered that he enjoyed the view where they grew anyway, and really, he was going for himself as much as for you. Maybe he had simply been trying to get you to stop fussing over the subject, maybe it had really been true.

You spend the day talking to your friends, reminiscing in regained memories and filling in gaps that you couldn't on your own. As you sat next to Johanna she talked on about the days Finnick spent longing after you, claiming he was alright wirh being just friends, but she was convinced that if any of her friends looked at her the way he looked at you she would have suckerpunched them.

On the sixth day you had begged Finnick train with you, saying how you wanted to get your strength back, how you missed the exercise and the content feeling of aching muscles. He had been reluctant, of course he had been, but once you had managed to drag him onto the training mat he revelled in it. He couldn't deny he had missed sparring with you, the action so effortless with you. He had made fun of how you threw your punches, saying you had to extent your arms further to complete the motion, but he was the one not protection his core properly while fixating on you. It had been good to feel your body in motion again, he was still stronger than you, knocking the breath out of your lungs once be stopped holding back, but you were still faster, getting the drop on him in the split seconds he was distracted. The manner in which your muscle memory still held up, the way in which you still used the same techniques without meaning to, it was good to know there are some things people can't take from you.

The seventh day you picked your routine back up. Waking up to an empty bed but not lonely, his side was still warm as you rolled over. Once you opened your eyes you saw the cup of coffee and the note on the bedside table. Finnick knew you never slept for long after he left, somehow he still knew. He had been given some time off during your recovery, but district 13 didn't stand still and they had needed his help. You weren't expected back yet, but the sense of purpose was one that you were always glad to have. You drank the coffee he left you as you got dressed, smiling as he had made it exactly to your liking, even if he used to complain you couldn't even call it coffee anymore with that much sugar in it. And so you went back to work, moving to scribble a quick message on the back of the note if he came back looking for you, not that he needed it, somehow he would always know where you were.

In the past week you had learned that a love as great as the one you shared with Finnick could never be forgotten, not really, because no matter how many memories faded, there would always come new ones. And soon, even though you didn't know it yet, Finnick would give you his mother's ring once more, and this time you would remember everything that led you here, and you would remember saying yes.

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m00nsbaby · 11 months

Text

The invisible barrier.

(Jake Lockley x F!Reader)

Tags - Warnings: Jake doesn’t know about Marc or Steven. Angst, smut, fluff, everything. Most of Jake’s dialogues are in Spanish, most of reader’s are in English except in November - December. Word count: 4,9 k. (Lol, sorry) Summary: A whole year trying to understand Jake Lockley. (Literally)

January.

"¡Hola!" (Hello.) The sudden voice next to you made you jump as you made the most important and complicated decision of the week.

Would you choose pretzels with dark or white chocolate?

Reluctantly, you turned to your side to see a man standing just a few inches away from you. On another occasion, you would have probably jumped back or fled to another aisle in the supermarket, but the apologetic smile on his lips and the puppy-like look in his eyes told you that he didn't want to be in this situation either.

"Perdón, ¿Podrías decirme qué dice aquí?” (Sorry. Could you tell me what it says here?) The words came out quickly from his mouth and you furrowed your brow in confusion. Your fleeting and ridiculous Spanish classes had never been of much use, even less now that you had the opportunity to help an attractive man.

"I don't... Huh." You cleared your throat, searching for a way to say, 'Maybe I can't help you, but I'll move heaven and earth to try.' Dramatic? Yes, of course, but what more could be expected from a hopeless romantic? Many love stories began like this in your mind; this was a scenario you had imagined at least twice before falling asleep. "No hablo español." (I don’t speak Spanish.)

The man blinked a couple of times, as if realizing that he had gathered courage for about 15 minutes only to lose his dignity like this.

"Oh." He cleared his throat, nodding afterward. "Thanks," he said shyly, as if trying to hide his accent.

"No, no, let me help you. What do you need?" You turned the bag of Cheetos he was holding in his hands so you could see the list of ingredients on the back as he was asking. Both of you were guessing what you were saying. Your gaze scanned the list, nodding your head when you detected the problem. Everything was written in English.

Sure, your aisle companion had an extra problem on top of that. The letters were too small for his poor eyesight, and he would rather ask for help from strangers than give up on the idea of using glasses.

"Give me a second." Your fingers quickly handled your phone as you took the bag from his hands.

You took a photo and the app took care of the work for you, translating every word on the red packaging you held. You didn't hesitate to take a step forward and extend your hand far enough for your phone to be at the stranger's ear level, who didn't question your methods for a moment.

He just stood still, listening.

"¿Colorante rojo número 6?” (Red dye number 6?) He questioned when the voice function finished. And you quickly scanned the phone screen, trying to find the part on the list that seemed closest to what he had just said.

Well, seis = 6, that one was easy.

"Yes, 6." You saw him smile and take the bag back from your hands to shake it in a celebratory manner. "Why?"

"Huh?"

"Why 6?" He guessed based on how you tilted your head to one side what you were asking.

"Soy alérgico al número 4, o al menos eso creo.” (I'm allergic to the number 4. Or at least, I think I am.) He pointed to his throat. "Siento comezón en la garganta cuando como cosas que lo tienen.” (My throat itches when I eat things that have it.")

Did you understand anything he said? No, nothing beyond the number 4. So, you smiled and nodded, eliciting a warm laugh from him.

He was cute.

"Gracias." (Thank you.) It seemed like he understood the basics, just like you. It was better to use his words than to deal with the pronunciation of the "t" and "h" together.

"It's okay." You shrugged while continuing to smile in a friendly manner. It wasn't because the stranger was incredibly attractive; you always behaved this way with people, or at least you tried to. "Enjoy your Cheetos."

Another giggle. "Cheetos," he repeated, imitating the way you pronounced the brand's name.

You rolled your eyes playfully and went back to the pretzels without saying anything else.

Well, there went the potential love of your life. Both of you were too shy to engage in casual conversation. You were aware that pretending to have the confidence to do so would be a lie.

Silently, you paid for your pretzels covered in white chocolate, looking around in case the guy was still nearby. After a few seconds, you gave up. Well, it was nothing out of the ordinary, even with one more chance, you wouldn't have approached him. More than 20 dollars for a bag of chocolate covered pretzels? That must be a crime, the first time you bought one . . .

"Hola de nuevo.” (Hi again.) The leather of his jacket brushed against your skin as you bumped into him. He was in the exact same position as you, one hand holding his Cheetos, the other clutching the receipt he was trying to read with squinted eyes.

You almost had a heart attack.

"Hi." You smiled, your cheeks betraying you as they turned rosy just from being around him like this. You had to take a step back after the clumsy little push you gave him.

"¿Tienes cómo regresar a tu casa?” (Do you have a way to get home?) You frowned at the question. This only confirmed that your crazy fantasy wasn't going to work out; there was a huge barrier between you.

He could see the confusion on your face so he pointed outside. It was raining heavily.

"Oh." You had been so engrossed in your pursuit of him that you hadn't thought about that. It wasn't a terrible problem, though; you could just wait until it calmed down.

You could spend another $20 on an umbrella in the worst case. Or call a car to take you the 10-minute walk to your house.

"I'll just wait." You had to remind yourself not to get too deep into your words.

"Yo te llevo.” (I'll give you a ride.) He quickly said. "A ride." The way the 'r' rolled off his mouth was enough to make you dizzy.

"Are you sure?" This couldn't be happening. This genuinely couldn't be happening.

"Of course, I'm sure," he repeated, smiling. This couldn't be happening.

It couldn't.

That night, you ran together to his car in the rain, laughing. He opened the door for you, even though it meant a few extra minutes of water poured on him.

You gave him directions through your phone, and you learned how to say "cuadras" (blocks) to guide someone next time, and he kept telling you something you didn't understand, but he noticed you were just nodding for him to keep talking.

He said goodbye with a kiss on your cheek. He used a word similar to "custom" to justify it, ‘costumbre’ maybe.

Oh, and you exchanged numbers. It turned out the stranger, Jake Lockley, worked as a taxi driver most nights. You understood that because the words "taxi" and "noche" were in your mental dictionary.

February.

Your first date was a disaster.

You never considered that to spend the day together, you had to exchange more than 5 words, and Jake stained your beautiful pink sundress with an ice cream that didn't even taste that good.

Oh, at some point, you tripped too. You were so focused on trying to understand one of the anecdotes he was telling you that you ended up on the ground with a scraped knee.

That wasn't so bad, though. I mean, you had Jake on one knee, checking yours. He even had you step on his thigh so he could clean you up with his ice cream-covered napkin.

When the day came to an end, he took you home. You noticed he had memorized your address, making it easier for both of you. You hummed a song together to cover the silence of two people who had to resort to other means of communication than talking.

"I had fun." Lie, this hadn't been anything like you imagined a first date, not after reading books or watching movies.

He nodded silently as he got out of the car to open the door for you.

And even though the date was a complete disaster, Jake kissed you.

He kissed you against the closed door of your apartment, holding you by the waist as if you intended to escape from his arms, begging you silently not to separate from him.

"¿Repetimos la próxima semana?” (Second date next week?)

March.

Text messages flowed throughout the weeks. Depending on the day, one or the other used the translator to send messages that the other could understand.

Sometimes they were just silly pictures, mostly of cats. You found a silly liking for sending him videos and photos of different animals in romantic situations, hugging each other and such, with only the description 'us.'

Jake responded ‘nosotros’ with different emojis depending on the day. He liked the white heart.

His car became familiar to you, as well as the late-night drives with music. You wondered if Jake had started neglecting his work to spend more time with you, and although it sounded selfish, you didn't care much.

You enjoyed his company.

April.

Your fingers played with his curls while both of you rested comfortably on your bed, you on the pillows, Jake on your abdomen.

He was surprisingly interested in one of the old books you hadn't touched in a long time.

"Jake?" He immediately put the book down to look at you. "Can you help me with a word?"

"¿Ahora?" (Now?) he asked.

"Right now."

"¿Cuál palabra?" (Which word?) He closed his eyes as your fingers continued to enjoy playing with his hair. It was so soft that the gentle caresses you gave were enough to mess it up.

"Boyfriend."

"Novio." You stretched your free hand with difficulty. He opened his eyes again, looking at you with interest as you struggled in the least attractive way to open one of your drawers with one hand. Something cracked in it.

You put the bag of Cheetos on his chest, clearing your throat afterwards.

"¿Quieres ser mi novio?” (Do you want to be my boyfriend?)

May.

"Jake?"

The car hadn't started yet when he turned to look at you, raising his eyebrows as if to ask what was wrong. You stretched enough to touch his knuckles, which were marked with a purple tone and scraped.

Your gaze went to him. It was as if both of you knew how to communicate through looks.

"No sé qué me pasó. Mi teoría es que golpee algo mientras dormía.” (I don't know what happened. My theory is that I hit something while asleep.) He frowned as he extended his fingers to get a better view of them. It looked like he had beaten up someone, and he couldn't deny that it hurt, especially when he gripped the steering wheel of the car.

"Are you still having those strange dreams?"

"Weird dreams," Jake whispered to himself as a way to remember your words. "Sí, sueños raros.” (Yes, weird dreams.)

You pursed your lips without saying more as you brushed his knuckles with your thumb, as gently as you could.

"Let's go." You finally gave in, returning to your seat with an unconvincing gesture.

June.

"I don't understand football." You said as you walked hand in hand, leaning some of your weight against his body.

Technically, neither of you were drunk; you were just flushed from the heat of the alcohol, giggly and a little tipsy. Jake had mentioned how funny it would be to go to one of those bars where they show football games for fans, even though neither of you were fans. Choosing a team randomly to support, drinking things with strange names, and maybe sharing spicy wings sounded like a good plan.

That was your Friday night.

"Tampoco yo.” (Neither do I.) Jake was doing his best not to laugh. He failed miserably.

When you reached his car, you leaned your body against it, and your hands ended up on your boyfriend's shirt. He immediately knew what you wanted, bringing both hands to your waist and leaning forward, closer.

"Is it hot here, or was it the 4 margaritas we drank?" You whispered while trying to contain your smile.

"Debe ser ese vestido.” (It must be that dress.) His lips brushed against yours. The sudden change in his voice made you shiver, so husky. “O por lo menos es lo que me está poniendo caliente a mi.” (At least I know that's what's making me hot.) It was the last thing he said before kissing you as if his life depended on it.

You moaned into his mouth, pressed between his body and the car. The kiss was wet as his mischievous hands slid under your dress, squeezing your ass firmly enough for it to hurt. Not in a bad way. "Jake." You complained as you looked around to make sure no one was walking by to see you.

"Date la vuelta.” (Turn around.) Apparently, your Spanish only worked in moments of convenience because you obeyed immediately. You turned your body with difficulty, mainly because he refused to let go of you. You felt his erection against you as soon as your cheek collided with the cold metal of the car. He was rubbing against your ass while biting your neck to his liking, sucking and licking your skin until he marked it. "Fuck, Jake." You whispered with your eyes closed. You could have cum right there with just his kisses and soft touches. Fortunately, he was more considerate because one of the hands that rested on your waist little by little went between your legs, your dress was already raised enough to only have to worry about your panties, he brushed his fingers over your abdomen before sliding his middle finger between your lips. First he wetted it well before moving up to your clit. His touch made you tremble and hiss. "¿Un par de besos te tienen así, corazón?” (A couple of kisses have you like this, sweetheart?) You could hear the smirk on his lips as his finger traced circles against your most sensitive area. "Imagínate como será cuando esté dentro de ti.” (Imagine how it will be like when I'm inside you.) A shameless moan escaped from you. "Eso quieres, ¿No?” (You want that, don't you?) He kept talking in your ear while he distributed one or two kisses between your neck and your shoulder. “Sentirme duro. Profundo.” (To feel me hard. Deep.) He simulated thrusts between each word, his hip pushing yours harder against the car and against his hand that kept playing with your pussy to make you whimper. You nodded without opening your eyes. "Con palabras." (Use your words.) He said clicking his tongue.

"Yes please." You begged desperately while trying to get air through your mouth. "Buena niña.” (Good girl.) You swallowed the complaint of feeling him take his hand out of your panties, just because you immediately heard how he started to unbutton his jeans. "Escupe.” (Spit.) You could feel his girth between your legs, letting you know that there were no more clothes involved. You took a few seconds to be able to clean the fingers that were inside you before with your tongue, making Jake groan just by imagining what you would do with your mouth in another situation. When you were satisfied you spat into the palm of his hand as requested. He wrapped his hand around his cock, and covered it with your saliva. He used the same hand to accommodate it between your lips. A sigh of relief left your mouth when you finally felt it inside you. A muffled whimper accompanied the way your muscles suddenly relaxed, as if that was what you needed. "Mierda, amor." (Shit, love.) As Jake's forehead rested against your shoulder, he muttered under his breath. "Voy a terminar rápido si sigues apretándome así.” (I'm going to finish fast if you keep squeezing me like this.) His voice made you dizzy, you mentally thanked all those days you spent understanding each other because his words could have been enough to push you to the limit. It didn't take long for both of you to pick up a delicious rhythm. When he pushed his hip forward, you pushed back to make him go deeper. When he was pulling back, you were pulling forward almost taking his member all the way out to prepare for his next thrust. You were so close you had to bite the hand he put to your mouth to keep from screaming. "¿Vas a terminar para mi, mi vida?” (Are you going to finish for me, my life?) He whimpered. Oh god, he fucking whimpered. He had a desperate tone to his voice, almost like he was comforting you. "Déjame sentirlo, por favor, por favor.” (Let me feel it, please, please.) This time it was he who was begging. Your saliva had started running against Jake's hand. You were seeing stars from squeezing your eyes shut, and how close you were wasn't helping at all. The spasms had started around him, and without warning, the inevitable happened. He finished inside of you. His cum being pushed deeper inside you with each thrust he took to finish his orgasm was enough for you to reach yours. "Amor, carajo.” (Love, damn it.) His voice cracked at the sensitivity combining with your walls squeezing him every few seconds. You were milking him. "Te amo.” (I love you.) He whispered as his breath interrupted each of his words. That was the first time he said it.

July.

The only thing that relaxed you was that this 360° turn apparently had nothing to do with you.

Jake was someone else.

His flirty and playful personality was just a memory to you. Under his eyes, there were huge dark circles since his dreams had become crazier and more frequent.

There were unexplained wounds on his body, according to him. Or sometimes there were none, but he felt the pain throughout his body, as if a truck had run over him, he said.

He became silent, as if he felt he was talking too much when he started to let out words about what was happening. He still hugged and kissed you, still spent afternoons with you and continued to respond “nosotros" to your silly animal photos.

But something wasn't right. There was something so... strange.

You did what you could to work on it, to let it pass.

Even if it cost you the trust in your relationship.

August.

Your hands trembled as you dialed his number for the tenth time that night. Maybe you were being dramatic, but Jake always made sure to let you know when he had returned home.

The sudden change that had occurred in him over the past 3 months didn't help at all. You wouldn't last a lifetime without wondering why his body kept producing wounds he claimed not to remember, or about those days of complete dissociation on his part, when he swore you were playing with him when you told him it was Saturday and not Wednesday.

"I just want to know you're okay." You whispered with a broken voice to the voicemail. "Please, just tell me you're okay."

There was no response that night. You couldn't sleep either.

The next day, when he showed up at your doorstep with the dark circles you had learned to get used to over the days, your body's first reaction was to push him with all your strength. It was only enough to make him stagger.

"You're an idiot." You spat the words, your eyes flooded with tears.

"Me quedé dormido anoche, perdón.” (I fell asleep, I'm sorry.) He didn't even seem to believe the words coming out of his mouth, but how could he explain to you what was happening in his life if he didn't even know what the hell was going on?

"How much longer do you plan on lying to me?" You didn't care that people passing by on the street saw you both as crazy. You in your pajamas, him leaning against the car as a method of protection.

"No te estoy mintiendo." (I’m not lying to you.) He raised his voice a little, letting out a lot of the feelings he had been suppressing for a while.

"Do you think I'm stupid?" The worst part was that you also had things bottled up inside you, the worry for him being the thing that choked you every day, squeezing tighter and tighter.

"Creo que no quieres entenderme.” (I think you don't want to understand me.) He was angry. You had never heard him like this, especially not directed at you. "Creo que ni siquiera estás intentando.” (I think you're not even trying.)

Damn the day you started to understand his words.

"I'm not understanding you, Jake?" You had already broken into tears. Your finger collided against his chest in an accusatory manner while he seemed unaffected, even though inside he was falling apart.

It was too much for him. Everything was too much.

"I've been trying for months to ignore what you're hiding from me." It was so difficult to argue in this way that frustration was suffocating you.

"¡No te estoy ocultando una mierda!” (I'm not hiding shit from you!) You snapped.

With fear.

Mid-sentence, Jake had reached out a hand to push you. Not with much force, just enough to separate you from his chest.

In seconds, he became aware of what he had done. If the car wasn't behind him, he would have moved even further away from you. He was overwhelmed by fear too.

He was losing himself as he had suspected.

"Me tengo que ir.” (I have to go.)

"Jake Lockley, if you leave, I don't want you to come back." Tired of seeing him run away from the problems, you resorted to the last card you would have liked to play.

You were foolish to think he would risk hurting you again. The last thing you heard was the sound of the engine accelerating to get away from you as fast as possible.

September.

The first part of September is blurry. You did your best to survive without him, but the days passed so quickly that you began to question if you were alive or just living in a bad dream that had lasted longer than necessary.

It was as if Jake was dead to you, without any sign, without any notice, nothing.

He simply disappeared.

The clear countdown of the days begins on the 13th, when your phone lit up to notify you that he wasn't doing much better than you.

✉: ¿Podemos hablar? (Can we talk?)

✉: Estoy perdido. (I'm lost.)

It hurt not having him, but it hurt more to see Jake's well-being. Not knowing how he was, where he was, what he was doing after that tragic day tormented you.

You replied, and the most important relationship in your life turned into a series of midnight calls where you tried to understand what your ex-boyfriend was mumbling from the solitude of his car.

You had friendships that had started in stranger ways than this, you could endure this.

Make it work.

October.

"Trick or treat." Mentally, he slapped himself for how ridiculous his way of reappearing was.

A half-smile appeared on your lips as you opened the door and came face to face with an embarrassed Jake, wearing your favorite leather jacket and both hands in his pockets as if he was waiting to be scolded by you.

"I doubt any of these things don't have artificial coloring number 4." That was your only response as you leaned your body against the door frame. With one hand, you held the huge container of candies that came out of hiding every Halloween.

"Estaba por aquí.” (I was around here.) Jake pointed back, the path that led to the supermarket, or at least that's what you assumed. He had a very lame excuse to see you, but that worked for you. The interest was enough. "Y pensé en venir a saludar.” (And I thought of coming. To say hi.)

"I'm watching Friday The 13th." You looked behind him. Children approached with shyness, seeking candy. "Come in, let me finish with the candies."

Your smile was so genuine that Jake's heart skipped a beat. How had he lasted so long without you? Those lost 3 months would always be present in the multiple mistakes he made.

That night, you kissed until it hurt. Until your lips hurt from bites, until the skin of his neck burned from love bites, until his fingers became imprinted on your waist. "I love you." You said between moans as the movie gave you an almost unreal vision of who the love of your life was. Flashes in white, in red, even in black showing you how beautiful he was from any angle or lighting. He made your sofa creak as he raised his hip toward you, thrusting into you even deeper if that was possible. "I love you, Jake." You repeated with a broken voice while your little jumps gained more strength. Your body was already exhausted, your legs were shaking and your hair stuck to your forehead and neck from sweat but emotionally you refused to get away from him. "Te amo. Te amo. Te amo.” (I love you. I love you. I love you.) His whispers mixed with his panting. You both seemed to be on the verge of tears. "Don't go away again." Your fingers tightened on his chest, scratching at his skin as you had done many times before. "Don't ever leave me again, Jake." The way you said his name burned in his heart. He brought a hand to one of yours to squeeze them on his chest, making you feel his agitated heartbeat. There was no need to say more, not while your kisses, movements and moans spoke for themselves. That night, as you rested on his chest after an orgasm that made you both shake from head to toe, he promised you never to leave. "Mi vida.” (My life.) He repeated as his fingers untangled your hair and your weight on him increased as you drifted off to sleep. "Mi cielo. Mi corazón.” (My darling. My heart.) He whispered in your ear. "Mi todo." (My everything.)

November.

Everything with Jake was stupidly easy.

Laughing, singing, existing.

As easy as in the romantic comedies you used to love watching before you met him. And it's not that you had forgotten about those because of him, but now you enjoyed watching action movies, those that allow you to get distracted without losing track of the plot.

You didn't press him to talk about what happened in those months, knowing that there were still a thousand secrets between you because you still saw strange bruises on his body, marks on his knuckles, or felt him getting up in the early hours of the morning when he stayed over with you.

"Leave me alone!" You ran down the hallway, laughing with him trailing behind. Probably restraining himself because it would be impossible for him not to catch you with his eyes closed.

He wrapped an arm around you to press you against his chest and used the other to prevent both of you from crashing into the wall. He was laughing too.

"Do you give up?" He squeezed you tighter with his arm.

"Never! Let me go!"

The laughter almost made it difficult for you to speak.

"Come back to me, and I'll let you go."

The seconds of silence churned his stomach.

"What?"

"I mean..." He cleared his throat. "Officially. Would you be my girlfriend? Please?"

It almost seemed like he was begging you.

You reassured his fears with a kiss.

December.

"I don't understand how you can eat these things." You took a deep breath through your mouth, sticking out your tongue, already reddened by the red dye number 6, to seek some relief from the burning sensation.

Jake was setting down a fifth box from his arms. He sighed, tired.

"No puedo creer que no me estés ayudando.” (I can't believe you're not helping me.) He approached you to steal one of the Cheetos from your bag while you licked your fingers. "Te dije que uses palillos chinos, así evitas el polvo.” (I told you to use chopsticks, that way you avoid getting your fingers dusty.)

"The dust is the best part." You popped your thumb out of your mouth.

"Disgusting." He feigned a look of disgust as he settled between your legs, resting a hand on your thigh and giving it a squeeze.

"You didn't say that when..."

"¡Dios mío!" (My God!) He gasped, biting his lower lip to suppress his laughter. He leaned forward, stealing a chaste kiss from you. "Compórtate.” (Behave.)

"Are there many more boxes left? I didn't think you had so much stuff in your apartment." You pushed the box aside as you leaned forward to prolong your kisses.

"This is my apartment." He whispered with a smile against your lips.

"Touché." Your fingers slowly roamed his shirt collar before pulling him closer with a tug on the fabric. "What if you take a break?"

Jake's hands were already on his pants, figuring out how to unbutton his jeans without separating from your body.

"I'm never going to stop unpacking." He complained as his lips began to descend towards your neck.

Ok now that I have written happy endings for the three of them I’m sick of them, lol, I’ll try to get angst-ier with these thingies

#jake lockley #jake lockley x reader #jake lockley x you #marc spector x you #marc spector x reader #marc spector #Steven Grant #steven grant x you #steven grant x reader #moon knight x reader #Moon Knight #moon knight x you #marvel #Oscar Isaac #oscar isaac x reader #oscar isaac x you

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thydungeongal · 1 month

Note

Hey do you know any ttrpgs that take place in high fantasy worlds but aren't combat centric?

I've got a sprawling fantasy world or several I want to keep using for games but I want to step away from the combat-centric dungeon crawls of your dnd's and pathfinders for a bit and experience more of what's going on in the RPG space.

Sorry if you're not the right person to ask, you just feel like someone who might have opinions on the topic.

I have a few I could recommend!

First of all, Burning Wheel. Burning Wheel is an interesting game because it's a fantasy RPG with a very simple core system (d6 dice pool) with a bunch of systems built on top of it to the point where it's actually amazingly complex. Now, the default setting of Burning Wheel is very Tolkienistic. It assumes a medieval level of technology and a human-centric world, with elves, dwarves, and orcs filling the non-human side. It's a fascinating system but also a lot. What it does best is support characters with firm beliefs and ideals living according to those beliefs and ideals, and it can support high intrigue just as well as combat. (There is a combat system but it is almost better suited to duels instead of skirmishes.)

Mythras and RuneQuest are d100 fantasy RPGs, the former being basically a version of the latter but without the Glorantha license. Now, they are very trad RPGs and as such combat remains the one part of their systems they are most opinionated about, but both make combat into a very gritty and lethal affair to the point where engaging in combat without thinking is very much discouraged. They also have extremely detailed and fine-grained magic systems, as well as systems that encourage characters growing organically. And the system of Passions that mechanically reward characters acting according to their beliefs and building connections to the world. Now, Glorantha is one of the coolest fantasy settings on the planet, but if you've already got a setting of your own Mythras might be the better of the two.

Hmmm. I'm actually drawing a blank here. Oh, there's Free from the Yoke, which is a game based on Legacy: Life Among the Ruins, but set in a medieval fantasy setting where an alliance of noble houses has staged a revolution and freed their people from foreign rule. The game has some implied setting to it, with there apparently being some Slavic influences to the setting, but looking at it I think it could fit into almost any high fantasy setting with minimal modification. However, the gameplay loop will center around each player controlling a noble house, with two different levels of fiction (house level and character level, as they each also control an individual member of their own house), so it shouldn't be treated as a generic game.

#thydungeongal answers

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htttg · 9 months

Text

Lasagne - Alessia Russo x reader

Summary: while ur girlfriends away at a game, you make her a lil surprise to come back to...

1.5k words

"Hey guys, what's up, as I'm sure you all know, my girlfriend Alessia has a big game today; a friendly with Scotland and very sadly I can't be there 'cause my big fat leg injury. So instead, I'm gonna just make some food and put the game on, and I thought you could join me," I spoke to my Instagram live from my kitchen.

"Kay, obviously gotta get all the ingredients out - we're making Lessi's favourite, lasagne, and her mum sent me her recipe so I'm gonna have to try my very best to live up to her mum's standards,"

I chatted to my phone absentmindedly as I collected all my ingredients.

"Guys I realise I'm giving you a tough choice here on where your attention goes - to the game or to me making lasagne. Look I will not be offended if you chose the game, I'm not the best chef in the whole of Europe, the Lionesses however,"

By now I had all the ingredients out and had started mixing up the sauce, talking and joking with myself to make the live entertaining. I had Lessi's game up on my laptop just behind my phone.

"I'm warning you lot now," I spoke, "that I'm the worst with onions, the literal worst so I will be in a right state in about thirty seconds,"

I peeled the onion, and diced it finely, trying to do it as quickly as possible as tears seeped from my eyes.

I stuck the onions in the saucepan but had to collect myself still.

Strings of curses came flying out my mouth as I strained my eyes a lot.

"Fuck, you're not supposed to touch them, are you? Maybe that makes it worse. I don't even think it can get worse, fucking look at me,"

I got closer to the camera, showing everyone my bloodshot, teary eyes, which just kept twitching.

I tried to get over the feeling, taking a breather. I rested my hands on my knees to support myself as I leaned over.

Suddenly, from my laptop, there was an eruption of noise and I shot up.

"Did they just score? Oh my god, Lessi scored, ahhh guys England are winning! Fuck my eyes! Awh she's doing so well, look at that replay that's a beautiful goal, jesus my girlfriend is so talented. Fuck my fucking eyes man this hurts. Awh she looks so happy, I'm so proud bless. God I wish I could've been there, guys they scored! My eyes still hurt like hell, god I told you I was the worst. I don't even get this - why me? Fuck!" I took another second, and then tried to continue, shaking my face as if it would help, "Okay, okay I have to keep going or I won't be done in time, shit, my eyes look bloody awful, hold on,"

I disappeared from my phone's view for a moment and came back with sunglasses on.

"What do you think guys? Look good?" I chuckled to myself, "yeah, these actually are Lessi's, not mine, they were the first ones I found. I might have to steal them from her though, definitely look better on me. Okay, let's keep going,"

England had scored another two goals by the time I was starting to construct the layers of the lasagne, with Less getting one of the assists. She really was playing great today, getting many praises from the commentators for her performance.

It really did make me so happy, seeing her beaming on screen. She'd been needing a win since a recent loss that she had taken pretty hard.

I wacked the lasagne in the oven a few minutes later, checking the time left on the match to make sure I had my timing right.

"Perfect, she'll get back a few minutes after it should come out the oven, now we just wait,"

I kept on with the live, turning my full attention to the game now. Scotland managed to score despite England dominating possession, but spirits still seemed high, England still leading by two goals.

Eventually my timer went, it had been 20 minutes since I put the lasagne in, so I went to check on it, even though I knew it would still need a fair amount of time.

"Right the cheese hasn't browned or anything, so I know it needs more time. How do I know though, when it's fully done, just from the cheese on top or what? I'ma give Carol a ring,"

I grabbed the house phone and dialled Alessia's mum's number. As it rang, I did a lil dance to the live.

"Hello?"

"Oh, hey Carol, it's Y/N,"

"Hi love, is the lasagne going alright?"

"Yes, great in fact and I haven't burnt the house down just yet,"

She chuckled a little at that.

"I was just calling to ask how you know it's done; I'm watching for when the cheese brown so when it does should I just take it out then?"

"Yeah, so when it's golden brown on top that's done, and the sauce will be bubbling around the edges. If you want, you can also stick it with a toothpick. If it's easy to push to the bottom layer then you should be good to go,"

"Oh that’s perfect, thank you so much. You watching the game?"

"Of course, course I am. Her goal was beautiful, wasn't it?"

"Sailed right into the net, amazing goal. She really is playing amazingly, she should be so proud,"

"And right after that hard loss the other day,"

"Yeah for sure, and you can see she's having so much fun as well, so nice to see,"

"And she's lucky to have you too, making her lasagne is so sweet she'll be so thankful,"

"Well, I have to give you some credit, it's your recipe after all. Anyway Carol, I better focus on my lasagne, or she'll come home to a burnt brick instead,"

"Of course, well I hope to speak to you soon, I'll give Less a call after the game,"

"We should look at going out for a meal soon, it's been a while,"

"Oh, that would be perfect, bye then,"

"Bye!"

The game ended shortly after, and then I got a message from my girlfriend saying she'd be home in 10. Perfect timing pretty much.

10 minutes later I heard her keys rattling in the door and ran to go greet her.

"Lessi, hun, you did so amazing!" I called out before practically throwing myself into her arms.

She pulled me close, her arms tightly wrapped around my shoulders as mine snaked around her waist. I buried my head into the crook of her neck, enjoying being so close to her after what had felt like ages.

"I missed you," I told her.

I could feel her sniffing the air, evidently the smell of the lasagne creeping into her senses.

"Lasagne?" she asked hesitantly, her voice filled with hope.

I chuckled, pulling away from the hug and leading her into the kitchen.

"I thought it'd be nice to make you something, plus you deserve it with that goal, stunning. Here, come, I'm live on Instagram,"

"You really made me lasagne?" she asked happily.

"Your mum’s recipe,"

She pulled me back into a hug from behind as I was facing my phone, watching the messages on my live fly past. Her chin nestled into my neck.

"I love you so much," she whispered quietly before pressing a kiss into my skin, giving me goosebumps.

"Alright, get off you big lump," I told her, but my tone was light and there was a smile plastered on my face, "I'll serve it up,"

She withdrew from the embrace and sat up on one of the stools.

We talked with each other and with the live as I dished up the lasagne for us both.

"Here, pass," I indicated to my phone which she was holding and propped it up to get a video of her trying the dish I'd slaved over for more than an hour.

"It's good," she said with a grin, it came out muffled with her cheeks stuffed with pasta, and I could tell she really meant it, "it's really good. Mmm! Exactly what I needed,"

"Yayy. I'm glad it's good," I responded, and then we ended the live a few minutes later with a wave to the camera.

"Now that's off, I can do this," I said and turned to her.

I pulled her in for a kiss. It tasted like lasagne. She pulled away when we both ended up smiling into each other's lips.

"You couldn't do that before we ended the live?" she teased. I know she didn't mean it, we'd both talked about pda before, deciding not everyone needed to see it. Best not to encourage the tiktok edits.

"You really did play amazing today Less, I was so proud. You made it look easy,"

She chuckled a little.

"Come back here," she mumbled, putting her hand on the back of my neck to kiss me again. It was more this time, our lips moving together perfectly until she cheekily bit down on my lip.

"Less!" I cried out, pulling back sharply.

"Sorry," she said, clearly not meaning it by the brazen smirk on her face, "you tasted too good I thought you were lasagne,"

#alessia russo #alessia russo imagine #woso imagines #x reader #lionesses

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wonbriiize · 7 months

Text

pairing; wonbin x reader

genre; fluff

warnings; none (? i think,, a kiss at the end tho)

note; it‘s my first time writing something like this but i tried my best,, let me know if there’s anything that i can do better next time !! + it‘s a bit long oops

one condition

in which you’re playing monopoly with your friends and everything is going well until wonbin, your best friend (who has a crush on you but you don’t know that) steals your money and runs away with it…

“i‘m buying this street!” sungchan announces while he takes out the street card from the box, not letting sohee do his job since he‘s supposed to be the bank and the person who gives out all the cards.

“hey, you need to pay for it first!”

“chill, here‘s your money,” sungchan throws it to sohee who starts counting it once he has it in his hands. “okay, it’s the right amount. *y/n* it’s your turn.”

you roll the dices and see that you have to take 10 steps. once you land on the final street, you decide to buy it since no one has done it. the second you want to grab your money, you notice that it’s not on the table. where did it go? you could have sworn that you’ve put it on the left side, right next to wonbin‘s bought streets.

wonbin is enjoying this whole situation because he knows exactly where your money is. he can’t hold himself back from snickering silently. sadly, his silent wasn’t quiet enough because your eyes wander over to wonbin. ”give me back my money!” he throws his arms up. ”who says that i have it?” ”oh, stop lying wonbin!”

you grab after his hands and search them. it’s not there.. but where is it then?

your eyes move towards the pocket of his sweatshirt and before you can grab into them, wonbin stands up and runs away.

he‘s not serious right now, is he? you think.

sungchan and sohee seem to be enjoying it since they’re laughing their asses off. you glare at them before you stand up and run after wonbin. knowing wonbin, he probably ran into his room. it’s his safe place.

“wonbin stop being so annoying and give it back!” you yell, running towards his room. once you arrive, you notice that his door is widely open. he should have closed it.

you walk into the room, looking around to find wonbin. thump! the door behind you closes. you turn around and see wonbin leaning against it with the biggest grin on his face, holding up the money in his hands. your money.

“this is so childish wonbin! just give it back.”

”come and get it yourself,” he grins.

glaring at him doesn’t help because his grin just keeps getting wider and wider while he’s stretching his arm up super high. launching yourself at him, you start holding down his upper body (which is very defined as you can feel) with one hand and with the other you’re trying to bring down the arm but it’s not working.

“guess you’re too short to reach it,” wonbin smirks.

“guess you can’t play a game without cheating,” you say and look at his face.

in this moment, you notice how close you both are standing to each other. his face is only a few inches apart and you stare at him, noticing not one single imperfection.

wonbin notices you staring which just makes him smile even more. that’s what he wants, he wants you this close to him, always. he has been wanting this since the day he saw you tripping over your own shoelaces and helped you up. this was the start of your friendship.

that was three years ago.

“okay, i‘m going to give it back to you,” he gives in. for him, it’s now or never. this is the perfect moment.

”as you should,” those words just come out of you like a whisper because you’re still so mesmerized by him. this is the first time you’ve ever been this close to wonbin and honestly, you don’t mind. you’re actually enjoying this.

”under one condition. we go on a date.”

”what?” this throws you offguard.

”i want to take you out on a date.”

”wait, why? so suddenly?”

wonbin takes his arm down so now you’re holding both of his shoulders. after realizing this, you let go.

”not suddenly. i have been wanting to ask you this since forever, i just never had the guts to do it.. until now,” wonbin scratches the back of his head, avoiding your gaze. this is the first time in the three years of friendship that you’ve seen him act like this.. so shy. it’s cute.

”basically all it took for you to ask me this was stealing my monopoly money, running away and luring me into your room. why not just.. ask?” now you’re finding this situation hilarious, but in a very good way.

“it’s funnier like that,” wonbin steps closer to you, the big smile being back on his face.

”so, *y/n*, will you go on a date with me?”

he looks directly into your eyes and it’s like he’s staring right into your soul, that’s how intense this feels. but you’re loving it. you’re feeling something weird in your stomach. maybe it’s those butterflies that everyone talks about when they have a crush on someone. you’re getting the urge to get more of this feeling.. more of wonbin.

“okay, i will,” you can’t hold back a little smile when you see how happy wonbin is after hearing this. ”under one condition,” you add and take a step closer to wonbin.

“i want you to kiss me,” you say, taking another step towards him.

wonbin starts smiling so brightly but once he notices that he’s losing his cool persona like that, he tries to hold it back a little.

“as you wish,” he says, closing the distance between the two of you.

when your lips touch, you feel chills all over your body. in the best way possible.

the feeling in your stomach only grows and grows the longer the two of you kiss.

yeah, you think. it’s definitely butterflies.

#riize drabbles #riize oneshots #riize imagines #riize wonbin #riize scenarios #riize fics #park wonbin #riize #monopoly #i tried my best #riize sungchan #riize sohee #kpop #riize x reader #x reader

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ouroborosorder · 3 months

Note

Do you have an instance of Arknights VFX that gets frequently praised that you as a VFX artist think is mediocre or bad?

EBENHOLZ' SKIN "EINE VARIATION" IS A CRIME AGAINST ME SPECIFICALLY.

Look. I love Ebenholz, a lot. His effects are really strong, too! Some of my personal favorites. But this skin. Jesus Christ this skin.

I have seen so many people praising this skin as having good effects or being better than his original and it genuinely makes me wonder if half of the effects are actually rendered in some sort of shrimp colors that everyone but me can see.

There is not a single part of this skin's effects that I don't hate. Not just because I find them ugly, uninteresting, and unclear, but because I think they fundamentally misunderstand who Ebenholz is.

You asked for this.

Part 1 - The Colors.

The actual art for his skin has a beautiful striking blue and light gray background, with the light pink Arts accentuating it, and then the blood red and pitch black of his outfit meant to draw the eye to the center. This works perfectly in the art, so what's wrong?

First problem. Ebenholz doesn't have the blue background in gameplay. Meaning that his effects are red (not pink, like the art, they are red) and his skin is red. So there's extreme monochrome happening, with absolutely no interesting contrast between him and his Arts. His Elite Charge is blue, at the very least, so his signature gimmick stands out uniquely, which is quite nice! That's a great decision that won't cause any problems down the line at all.

"Oh, but Keys, it's so that the red Arts stand out when he uses his S3 and summons that giant goat spirit in the background!" That's a great point, person I just made up. Please remember this excellent point for later.

Part 2 - General Effects

The effect starts with a deploy animation wherein Ebenholz is surrounded by sparkles like some sort of magical girl. The deploy effect is genuinely bad in so many ways, mostly related to timing and motion, but this rant is going to be long enough. And I'm gonna need to focus and talk about the sparkles.

The biggest thing to know about Eine Variation is this image. Get acquainted with it. If there was a recurring visual motif in Eine Variation, it is this piece from the original art.

And yeah, as an effects artist, I'd be amped to work on this. This looks fucking sick as shit. It's dynamic, it's chaotic, it's got harsh lines to contrast the flowing music staff, it's great. So let's see how this texture looks in g- okay what the fuck.

In the game, it looks nothing like the art. It's literally just the stock glimmer effect. It's not even a new texture. This thing's been in the game since release. It looks. Bad. It's way too simplistic. Because it wasn't meant to be the center of attention, it's meant to appear for an instant and then fade. Like, you know. A glimmer.

What you just saw in the screenshot above is one of Ebenholz' Mystic Caster charges. And it is easily my least favorite part of the entire skin.

Ebenholz (Original Flavor)'s Mystic Caster charges has one of my favorite visual touches in the entire game. Ebenholz fights using artifacts from the Witch King whose power he inherits - a wand and a set of five Originium dice. So he wields the wand, and has die rotate around him as he fights. In-game, they represent this by his charges being the dice, rotating around his hand. This is, as we say in the vfx industry, fucking badass. So naturally they removed the dice entirely in Eine Variation.

Fuck.

Fine, alright. Maybe it's him... moving further from the Witch King's influence, then? We'll go with that hey stop looking at his S3 what are you doing don't get ahead of me.

Now, I know what you're thinking. "hey, Keys, this is unfair. You're asking us to judge an animated effect based on a static picture of it." Well, my dear reader, I have bad news. You just saw the entire charge's visual. The whole thing.

They are a glimmer of light that does not pulse or twinkle. They just. Sit there. Floating. Again, it's just so simplistic, it's not even interesting to talk about.

The only good thing I can say about it is that it's way easier to tell how many charges he has since they're bigger, more spread out, and not moving. Also the Elite charge is WAY more distinct, since it's bright blue now to contrast with the red normal charges. Which is nice! A good decision! It would sure be a shame if it bit them in the ass later!

Part 3 - Attack and Skill 1

Did you think I was kidding when I said that the sparkles are the sole visual motif in this skin?

I hate these attack trails. Not only are they too simplistic, they're just too cute. I joked about magical girls before, but dear god, this just doesn't fucking look right. This skin is literally described as him being apathetic and miserable as a noble, so why are the effects so... Colorful and cute? Ebenholz isn't a cutesy goofy music-themed magical girl, Ebenholz is a sad gay goth kid who would create a fake My Immortal confession for attention.

I also hate the musical notes. I know I complained about the glimmers being too one-note (pardon the pun), but they just don't interact with the rest of the effect at all. There's nothing else musical about what is happening here. They feel added to remind you that he is casting music.

God I fucking hate the sparkles so goddamned much. I also find it really funny that one single musical note bursts forth with each hit. These shapes are just... So boring, so simple. But put a pin in that for a later.

His S1 uptime comes with an awful aura. he glows red. There is only red and white. this is all there is. This is all there will ever be. That's all I've got about S1.

Part 3 - Skill 2

Oh jesus go back to the red and white

First off, I find these goat so fucking ugly. The synths are a truly terrible choice, because synths and digital music don't come up in any capacity throughout the rest of the effects. So. Great work. This doesn't make sense.

Anyway I hate the color here. The original has a great two-tone black smoke with bright blue glowing eyes, contrasting with Eben's orange Arts. In the skin they slapped an awful blue glow haze over them. This makes them just completely draw visual attention, while they don't match up with Ebenholz' aesthetic at all. if you could see the black, there would be a clear visual link between them, but... Nope. It's ONLY blue, motherfuckers.

Also, they passively emit triangles, which is the only time in this entire effect that the Arts = Geometric Triangles visual idea appears in the entire skin based around an arts caster. Yay for recurring game-wide motifs!

Shockingly, I hate the explosion. It's passable, it's fine. But the timing is absolutely awful. The original's feels like an explosion that is pulling the target in, but the skin's feels like an explosion followed by absorption. It makes it feel less like an explosion and more like a contrivance. Also, it spawns only like, four notes total, which is just so low. Please have more notes, you even have the musical staff, you're so close to having this look like musical arts. I also hate the random swirl of red. The goat didn't have any red in it. Why does this have red. Monochrome would have actually worked better, this is just a summon.

Part 4 - Sound of Silence

Eine Variation S3 features Ebenholz getting hoverhanded by a goat.

I wish I had any other way to put it. But he gets hoverhanded by a goat for the entire uptime of this attack.

What even is this thing? Obviously, it's the goat behind him in his splash art, but what is it? Is it the Witch King? That would make sense, but why is the Witch King's avatar blue? The Witch King has literally never been blue, he's always been associated as being red. Unless this isn't The Witch King, in which case, what the fuck is it then?

I hate this effect more than anything else in this game. The ghost looks absolutely awful. it is very blatantly just the art from the actual skin, slapped behind him with no regard for aesthetic consistancy. Or even regard for if the image is readable at the distance Arknights is played at. The goatghost.jpg is not animated at all, but the hands move up and down, which weirdly only further reveals how static the ghost is. Also the hands aren't animated outside of going up and down which is just so uncanny and uncomfortable. It just reveals how desperately they needed to have some animation to make it not look like absolute hot garbage, and they still failed.

After an entire skin of absurdly simplistic geometric shapes and basic ass textures, suddenly they think they can pull off some shit that looks like a granblue render. This doesn't even look in-line with the rest of the skin's effects, let alone with the chibi artstyle.

Now. Why I truly, truly hate this attack.

When you activate S3, all of Ebenholz' Charges become Elite charges. Meaning they all become blue.

The charges all finally become blue.

In the only part of the skin where you have a blue background.

I just. I can't figure out how you'd fuck this up this bad. If the Elite Charges were red, it would look like the fucking skin art, with the red notes on the pink staff. They'd stand out, or at least look fucking decent. How many charges does Ebenholz have? Oh I don't know THEY'RE FUCKING BLUE ON BLUE.

WHY. WHY ANY OF THIS. WHY ALL OF THIS. I'M IN HELL. THIS WAS MADE TO TORMENT ME PERSONALLY RIGHT

anyway I will give credit where credit is due. I actually quite like the trail when he casts his stocks in S3.

The slight orange two-tone and complicated trails add a lot of nuance and depth to the effect, and the glimmer is toned down to the point where I can see the diamond shape hidden underneath. There is one singular silver lining to this cloud. It could use more musical touches and less fucking sparkles but at this point I need to compliment something.

Finale - Why Do I Give A Shit

Eine Variation launched as part of the Bloodline of Combat skins that came out with Lone Trail. It released alongside Specter the Unchained's Born as One; my personal favorite skin in the entire game. It is a skin that perfectly conveys Laruntina's love of natural beauty and Specter's love of poetry and recitation, bringing them together into poems reflected in a starry lake. The effects are serene and dreamlike, peaceful yet chaotic. It conveys who they are going into the future, who they are together.

Born as One is Bloodline of Combat at its best. Bloodline of Combat is at its best when it tells you something about who this character is at this part of their life. How they change, how they grow, how they look at the world in this point of their life. This is the story that good effects can tell.

So I ask you: What story does Eine Variation's effects tell?

If this an Ebenholz who is growing further from the Witch King's legacy into his own man, then why does the avatar of the Witch King appear behind him? Why does the flavor text describe this as clothing worn by every Graf Urtica? Why does it not lean further into the synth aesthetic to separate himself from the classical music of Leithanien?

If this is an Ebenholz who is currently stuck within the confines of nobility, why is he not wielding the dice associated with his title as Graf Urbica? Why do his fucking goats have synths instead of traditional instruments? Why is the Witch King the wrong color?

And most importantly to all of this: Why are all the shapes so simple?

Yes, Arknights' Arts are geometric. They're usually represented by simple triangles. This is true. But think about who Ebenholz is.

Ebenholz is not a simple and elegant person. Ebenholz is a man who nails complicated, difficult, strange flute solos, but who fails to do simple rhythms and scales. He excels at the complex, the elaborate, and the detailed, and fails at the simplistic. This is always how Ebenholz has been.

So a skin full of simple shapes, easy language, and flat colors... Isn't how he'd fight. It's not who he is. It's not how he'd act. It doesn't just feel wrong, it feels like it's not made for him.

I don't just hate this skin because I think its effects are bad. I mean, I do, and they definitely are.

I hate this skin because it just... Fundamentally does not understand who Ebenholz is. And it definitely does not understand why he is so special.

#(feel free to skip to the ending if you don't want to read an unhinged amount of text about something I hate)#arknights #arknights vfx breakdown #emphasis on breakdown

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lunarzstarz · 1 year

Text

(12 Days of Kinkmas) Day 3: Exhibitionism

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader x Steve Harrington

Content Warning: NSFW 18+ minors dni, oral (m receiving), throat fucking, fingering, spanking, praise kink, p in v sex, unprotected sex, dom(ish) bisexual Eddie and sub(ish) reader/Steve, nicknames (sweetheart, sweet thing, baby, good boy), Steve has a bisexual awakening, Steve’s thick dick (honestly cannot stop thinking about it)

Summary: You and Eddie give Steve an extra special Christmas gift…

A/N: Let’s just pretend I didn’t post this 2 days late…anyways I’ve wanted to write a Steddie x reader fic forever so here it is I hope you like it :)

As always likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated <3

Word Count: 3.5k

You were laying on the couch in Eddie’s trailer, legs resting on his lap while he watched the TV. Winter was here and it was time to start saving money and thinking about Christmas presents for friends and family.

“Okay so far I’ve got a mug for Wayne, new dice for all the boys, the girls are getting make up, Nancy a new dress, Robin a new sweater, but I still can’t think of anything for Steve” you sigh, setting the list aside. You and Steve had been friends for a long time, but when it came to birthdays and Christmas you were clueless on what to get him, never feeling fully satisfied with the gifts you gave him and he always managed to get you something great.

“What are you getting me?” he turns his attention to you, and you roll your eyes, throwing your pen at him.

“Cologne and a blowjob” you reply bluntly, teasing of course, you had an extra special gift for Eddie this year.

“Same as last year? You know me so well” he smiles blissfully “Can I get a preview though? These pants are getting pretty tight sweetheart” he palms himself and you lightly kick his stomach.

“Come on Eds, what do we get Steve? He’s your friend too you know” you huff, wrecking your brain to think of something better than last year.

“A girlfriend?” Eddie snickers.

“Oh come on that isn’t nice, you have to stop bullying him for that” you tut, nudging him.

“I’m sorry I can't help it, the man probably hasn’t got laid since eighty four” he laughs again, focusing on the TV again.

“Yeah well, lest we forget that you would be a single virgin right now if it wasn’t for me, so you have no room to talk” you remind him.

“I know, but I’m not and I love you for it” he shifts from his position to lay on top of you “Come on, you’ve been gift planning all morning, I’m bored.” You knew what that meant, especially by the bulge now pressing against your thigh.

“You really are insatiable, you know that?” you look down at him as he rests his head on your chest.

“Thanks baby” he grins up at you stupidly before sitting back again. You positioned yourself on your knees next to him and your hands went straight for his belt. He lifted his hips so you could slide his jeans and underwear off, his hard cock resting against his stomach.

“You owe me later” you say before taking him by the base and pumping him at a painfully slow pace. There was so much pre cum, like he was aching for your mouth, like you hadn’t sucked him off this morning already.

“Don’t worry I’ll fuck you nice a good later, just shit- stop being a tease” he hisses when you swipe your thumb over his leaky slit. You lean down and spit onto his tip, letting it run along his length to help you slide over him easier. He bucked his hips impatiently, his head hitting your lips when you lean down to wrap them around him.

He gathered your hair in one hand, the light tug felt nice as you slid him further into your mouth, he never pushed you, knowing your throat was probably still sore from his roughness earlier. So instead he let you do it your way, slow and teasing, but keeping up a pace knew got him there after a while and made him feel good. This was the pace that made him make all those sounds you loved, the whiney sighs, the deep groans.

“Fuuuck sweetheart, never get tired of this mouth” he moans, thumb brushing the side of your head as you take him halfway, pumping the rest of him, bringing your free hand up to cup his balls. “Love having my cock in your mouth don’t you? Take it so well” he praises, hips moving involuntarily.

You knew it would take him a while to cum like this, but you didn’t mind, he was right, no matter how much you acted annoyed when he asked you to suck him off, you always would. You loved the weight of his length on your tongue or when his salty cum dripped down your throat. So you went on like this for at least twenty more minutes, stopping every time he was close to build up his release.

“Gonna cum next time baby, just keep sucking, just like that” he instructed, balls tightening as he felt his orgasm approach.

You paid no attention to the sound of tires on gravel outside, or the footsteps approaching the trailer, you were only focused on making Eddie feel good. That was until there was a knock on the door a few feet away from you.

You pull off Eddie with a pop “Shit, it’s Steve!” you whisper yell.

“What the fuck is he doing here?” He matches your tone.

“He’s here to pick up the things I got for the christmas party, quick put it away!” you go to sit up and fix yourself, but Eddie’s grip remains on your hair.

“We aren't finished here yet, maybe we could give him an early christmas present” he has that menacing smirk on his face.

“Eddie no, you have no idea how he would react!” you warn him.

“Please, he’s a guy who hasn’t been with anyone other than his right hand in at least six months, trust me” he pushes you back down again “now get back to work, it hurts” he groans when your tongue meets his tip again. “It’s open!” Eddie calls in a sing-song voice, he couldn't wait to see Steve’s face.

“Hey, is Y/n around? Said she had some…stuff for t-the…party” Steve trails off when he turns from shutting the door to see the two of you.

“She’s a bit, christ- busy right now, but I’m sure she will be more than happy to help once she’s finished” Eddie says, trying to keep his cool.

“I-I um could come back later if-” Steve was flushing pink, unable to tear his eyes away from the sight, your mouth wrapping around Eddie’s cock, the way he was looking at him like he was next.

“Don’t worry about it Stevie” Eddie says, calling him by the nickname you usually had reserved for him “take a seat, won’t be much longer with a mouth like this” Steve took a seat in the armchair opposite, eyes blown wide as he watches Eddie lose himself, he looked like he was about to cum in his pants. “Think she’s got a present for you Steve, a real good one” he says, head falling back.

“That’s it sweetheart, right there fuck- fuck- right there” he whines loudly, holding you in place as he let his load into your mouth. You give him a few more pumps, making sure you got every last drop. He pulls you off, spit and cum dribbling down your chin, you swallow and wipe it with the back of your hand.

You look over at Steve who is still staring at you open mouthed, pupils blown wide from watching you. “Hi” you give him a shy smile and he gulps, Eddie sitting with a smug grin on his face.

“You gonna give Steve his present? He seems like he really needs it” Eddie’s eyes drift to the prominent bulge in Steve’s sweatpants, Steve turning bright red and trying to hide it.

You knew what Eddie was hinting too, you were no stranger to him letting other people have you or threesomes with his friends, it was just something that was a part of your relationship. Eddie never got insecure or jealous either, he got off on it and after had their way with you, Eddie would be there to fuck you ten times harder, it was his way of reminding you, no matter who you slept with, in the end he was always better.

Eddie got up from his spot on the couch, planting a kiss on the top of your head as a way to say thank you “Your turn Stevie.”

Steve gulped “I- uh, you don’t have to-” he started rambling.

“Relax, she just wants to make you feel good, nothing to worry about” Eddie gestures for him to take his spot next to you.

“And you don’t- you’re okay with this?” he asks Eddie, confused by the whole idea.

“More than okay” Eddie says casually, taking the cigarette that was behind his ear and lighting it “you don’t have to of course, up to you, but you look like you need to let off a load, that right hand not cutting it anymore?” he teases.

Steve rolled his eyes, Eddie had been bringing up the fact he hadn’t gotten laid in months almost every time they were together, it was really starting to piss him off. He looked over to you, cheeks flushed, lips swollen from sucking on Eddie’s dick, tits almost spilling out of your shirt. Eddie was right, his hand wasn’t cutting it anymore and the tension had been building for weeks now.

“Okay” he said, standing up from the armchair and sat next to you “are you sure you’re okay with this?” he asks you now.

“Are you?” you gave him a weak smile, he looked nervous, you couldn’t blame him after being best friends with you for years.

“Yeah” he said, taking a deep breath “should I?” he tugs on his waist band.

“All you need to do is relax, just do what feels right” you place a kiss to his cheek, then the corner of his mouth, his lips parting slightly as his eyes shut. You kissed along his jaw and stopped below his ear “You gonna let me take care of you Stevie?” you ask, grazing your hand over the outline of his bulge.

“Fuck yes” he says, grinding against the palm of your hand, the touch of someone else already feeling ten times better than his own. You smile against the skin of his neck, placing light kisses, finding a spot to suck on to leave a few marks.

Meanwhile on the other side of the room, Eddie has stripped down to his underwear and shirt, lounging in the armchair, cigarette in one hand while he lazily strokes his cock with the other as he watches you two.

You pull back the waistband of his sweatpants and boxers, reaching for his hard-on. He sighs when you brush against his leaking tip, he was already making such a mess for you. He lifted his hips to get out of his clothes, bottom half bare so you could get more access. Your eyes go wide, out of all the people you had been with, Eddie always had the biggest dick. Steve wasn’t as long as Eddie, but definitely much wider, you couldn’t help but think how he would feel stretching you out.

“What’s wrong?” Steve asks when he realizes you were staring.

“Nothing, it’s just big” you practically drool at the sight, taking him by the base and giving him a light squeeze. You leaned down to lick a long stripe from his sack to his tip, tongue lapping up the pre cum that had dribbled down his length, you felt his hips buck beneath you.

“Please” he threw his head back once you suck his tip into your mouth, starting to pump his girthy length. You let yourself drool a gag on his tip, the sloppier you were the more he seemed to like it. His hands fisting at his sides, you pull off him, pumping your spit and his pre cum along his shaft slowly, not wanting him to bust his load so soon no matter how much he needed it after so long.

Eddie stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray and stood up again, taking a seat behind you on the third and final spot on the couch. “Don’t tease the poor baby sweetheart” Eddie teased, Steve twitched in your hand at the pet name “get sucking.” You did as he said and placed Steve back in your mouth, picking up your pace “She likes it when you hold her hair, loves it when you fuck her throat” Eddie said, watching Steve struggle to find something to hold on to.

He gathered your hair up, lacing his fingers close to your scalp so he could tug lightly. You felt him hesitantly pushing your head, if it were Eddie he’d be fucking your throat raw by now. “Don’t be shy Stevie, she can take it, can’t you sweetheart?” Eddie says, hand coming down to connect with your ass, the pain dull considering your clothes still being on, but it went straight to your core.

“Mhmm” you hum, making Steve groan as it vibrates through him, his confidence building as his tip starts prodding the back of your throat. Eddie had trained you well when it came to deepthroating, but with Steve’s girth it was a bit harder than usual. You let your jaw go slack, Steve pushing your head down further until you gagged, then pulling you off again to compose yourself.

“Come on, you can do better than that” Eddie coos, pulling your pants and underwear over your ass and down to your knees, spanking you harder. “Use her, she can handle it” another smack, harder again, this one definitely leaving a mark. “Gonna get her nice and ready for you Stevie, you want Steve to fuck you sweet thing?” he asks, placing a kiss to the mark he left behind.

“Yes, so bad” you reply, another smack.

“Best get to work then, gotta show him how good you can be for him” Eddie said, spreading your ass and spitting on it, letting his drool run down to your cunt, mixing with your slick.

You let Steve guide his cock back into your mouth, prepared to take him all the way. He pushed you this time, when he felt the restriction of your throat, he slid further in “Fuck, feels so f-fucking good” he whined, hips bucking up to fit the last of his length down your throat.

“That’s it, taking him so well, sweet thing” Eddie praised, his fingers coming down to tease your entrance. “All she wanted to do was make you happy Stevie, wanted to give you something special this year, isn’t that sweet” Eddie said, pushing his fingers into you “Though I just think she wanted an excuse to have your cock.”

You can’t say anything, too busy focusing on the feeling of Eddie’s fingers knuckle deep in your cunt and Steve fucking your throat. “Oh shit, m’gonna cum” Steve moans grew louder, fucking into you faster, the feeling of your throat constricting around him so tight was bringing him so close to the edge.

“Go ahead, cum down her throat, she wants it bad don’t you?” Eddie felt you squeeze around his fingers “fuck yeah she wants it, wants you to fill her up.”

Steve’s grip on your hair grew tighter as he held you flush against his base, the scarce hair of his happy trail ticking your cheek. He came with a loud whine, thighs shaking beneath you as his cum painted your throat.

“Holy shit” he panted, pulling you off so you could get your breath back.

You gasp, spit and cum dripping onto your chest “Did such a good job baby” Eddie pulled you back so he could kiss you, partially to soothe you and partially to taste Steve on your lips. “Look at him, made him feel so good” you both watched as Steve tried to gather himself, chest heaving beneath his shirt, hair clinging to his damp forehead. “Think our girl needs a reward don’t you Harrington?” Steve opened his eyes to look at him, our girl.

“Y-yeah” he said, starting to come down from his high.

“What do you say sweetheart? You want Steve to fuck your pussy, think he deserves it?” Eddie asks, kissing the side of your neck, hand reaching to your front to stroke your clit.

“Fuck- yes!” you moan, leaning into his touch. Eddie leaned back, placing you between his legs so he could watch Steve fuck into you.

“Come on Steve, don’t make her wait any longer” Eddie encourages him out of his pleasured daze. He gets up on his knees in front of you, getting rid of the bunched up clothes around your ankles. Eddie hooked his hands behind the backs of your knees to pull them to your chest, making sure you were spread for Steve.

“Pretty isn’t she” Eddie says when he catches him staring at your slick cunt.

“So pretty” Steve agrees, stroking his cock a few times to get it hard again. Tapping his tip against your wet clit “Just, let me know if you need me to stop.”

You nod and Eddie laughs “Don’t think she will, but how sweet, isn’t he such a good boy for us sweets?” Eddie smiles up at Steve, his cheeks heating up again, did Eddie have this effect on everyone?

He lined himself up with your entrance and pushed into you, the two of them watching your face contort at the stretch. “Fuuuck” you gasp, the sting was something new.

Eddie grinded against your back, groaning as he watched Steve’s thick cock sink deeper into you. “That’s it baby, taking it so well” Eddie whispers whiney praises in your ear.

“S-so big” you let out a shaky breath, the ache making your eyes water as he bottoms out. You hold onto his shoulders, nails biting into his skin as he starts the slow rock of his hips.

“You feel so good, so fucking tight” Steve grips onto your hips as he pulls out to the tip, slamming back into you.

“Oh my-” the air is knocked from your lungs as he repeated his actions. You were unable to form words, respond to whatever Eddie was whispering to you with loud cries or whimpers, he soon gave up and focused on rutting his hips into you.

Eddie didn’t think Steve had it in him, but he was pounding into you at an unforgivable pace, hips slapping against the backs of your thighs making the lost lewd sounds echo off the walls. Steve doubled over, hitting you at a deeper angle making you scream with pleasure as his thick cock dragged against your g spot.

His face was inches from yours and Eddie’s, he leaned down and kissed you, sloppy but you didn’t mind. Then after a few seconds he pulled away, looking at Eddie, you could see a switch go off in his mind as he leaned in and kissed him on the lips, you felt Eddie shiver beneath you. Steve pulled away again, clearly shocked at his own actions, but not disappointed.

“Knew it” Eddie said to you, sounding winded like Steve had taken his breath away.

Steve didn’t stop or comment on the kiss at the time, instead he picked up his pace, fucking into you brutally. It was filthy, the wet sounds of your pussy, Steve’s moans and Eddie panting in your ear, hot breath on your neck as he chased his high. You were all covered in a sheet of sweat, it beading on Steve's forehead as he tried to keep up his animalistic pace, the smell of sex in the air.

You were in heaven, body pressed between two of the hottest boys in Hawkins, it felt more like your christmas present. Tears welled up in your eyes as the feeling of core shaking pleasure took over you, Steve’s hips stuttering and Eddie’s rutting faster against you, all three of you chasing your highs.

“Aww look, you’re making her cry Stevie” Eddie coos, letting his hands roam up your shirt to your tits. “Is Steve making you feel so good? You gonna cum sweet thing?” he pinched your nipples hard making you shriek, smiling against the skin on your neck as he started sucking on it.

“Oh fuck- shit- I’m gonna cum again, where you want it?” Steve grunted, hips faltering as his orgasm approached.

“I-inside” was all you could manage as you reached your release. One last drag of his cock had you cumming with a loud cry, pure pleasure coursing through your core, cunt clinging tightly to Steve, tipping him over the edge too.

“Holy- fuck, fuck!” he moaned, thick spurts of his cum coating your walls and filling you up. He fucked his load into you, making sure you got every last drop. Eddie wasn’t long to follow, his hips coming to a stop and the feeling of warm cum on your back a few seconds later.

The three of you lay there, stacked on top of each other unable to move, not saying a word all too fucked out to form a sentence. The only sound was the three of you catching your breath, basking in the after glow of sex. You let your eyes drift shut, head fuzzy, knowing that someday this would happen again.

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vodika-vibes · 4 months

Note

Hey! Congratulations on the followers! I love your fics! I've just refound tumblr and have been obsessed with TBB and TCW .

May I please have a pansy and a purple lilac with TBB Tech and a F!reader?

Tiny Dancer

Summary: You own a dance studio on a small mid-rim world, which has started to have some severe electrical problems. Luckily, Tech is your neighbor and he's happy to help.

Pairing: TBB Tech x F!Reader

Word Count: 1120

Prompts: Pansy - You occupy my thoughts; Purple Lilac - first love

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: So, this is my first time writing Tech, so I hope I did him justice. And if I didn't, please let me know so I can do better next time. But! Welcome back to Tumblr and our little corner filled with Clones!

Once upon a time, before the war, you would travel from planet to planet, learning different dances from different people across the galaxy.

And, though you don’t like to brag, you like to think that you’re something of an expert in most forms of dancing.

But when the War started, you were forced to find a safe planet to live on. Which is how you ended up here. On some mid-rim planet, running a dance studio for anyone who wants to learn.

Sure, the war is over, but with the Empire…

Well, it’s just not safe to travel anymore.

Still, you like to think that you’re making the best of it. Or, well, you hope you are, in any event.

“You have no idea how grateful I am for this, Tech.” You say brightly to the tall man who’s standing on a ladder with his head half in your ceiling, “I would hate for someone to get hurt because of poor wiring. And the electrician I spoke to was so dismissive-”

“I am happy to help,” Tech says as he pulls his head out of the ceiling to look at you, “So far, however, I am not seeing any problems.”

Concern crosses your face, “Oh, but I saw-”

“I believe you.” He sits on the top of the ladder, “Is there another electrical panel somewhere?”

“Um…” You think back to what the previous owner said to you when you purchased the building, “The basement, I think.”

“Then we can look there next.” He climbs down the ladder, and snaps it closed before he leans it against one of the padded walls, “After you.”

You lead Tech through the studio, until you get to the basement door. You quickly unlock it, and then have to use your whole body weight to pull it open, “Sorry.” You say as you stumble back into him, “The door has always done that.”

Tech steadies you with a hand on your shoulder, “I can fix that.” He offers.

You beam at him, “Oh! Can you really? That would be wonderful!”

He stares at you for a moment, and then averts his gaze with a cough, “Yes, well. We should deal with the electrical problem first.”

“When you’re right, you’re right.” You reply with a bubbly laugh, before you turn and flip the lightswitch, and lead him down the concrete steps, “Sorry for the mess. I mostly use this as storage. And the previous owner left a bunch of junk behind when he moved out. I kind of hoped that a member of his family would come to claim it, but no dice.”

You step off the stairs, and push a stack of boxes out of the way, to make room for Tech.

“How much of this belongs to you?” Tech asks, as he pushes several boxes out of the way as well.

“Less than a quarter.” You admit with a sigh, “But I don’t want to just throw it all away, it’s not mine. Oh, the electrical box is on the back wall, I think.”

Tech sighs softly when he sees the stacks of boxes blocking his path to the electrical box, and you duck your head with a mumbled apology. “If I had known that physical labor was involved, I would have brought Wrecker.”

You giggle, “Sorry. But I do appreciate you doing this for me. I kind of expected you to tell me to kriff off.”

He shoots you an odd look, “You really think that?”

You shrug, “You’re a nice guy, Tech, but most people don’t exactly like having their freetime claimed by other people.” You grin at him, “I wouldn’t have minded if you said no, but I’m so glad you said yes.”

Tech releases a quiet laugh, “I do not think anyone can say no to you, least of all me.”

“Least of all?”

“Sorry?”

“You said ‘least of all’,” You clarify, “Why least of all?”

“Oh.” He glances at you out of the corner of his eyes, even as he slides boxes and old mats out of the way, “Because I think about you all the time. And I am pretty sure that I am in love with you. Though I am still trying to figure that out.”

You fumble with the small box you’re carrying, and only manage to not drop it because you set it on another box, “What?”

“Did you not think it was strange that I am always eager to help you?”

You stare at him, “No! I thought you just liked helping people!”

“I like helping you, specifically. You have never been bothered by my rambling.” Tech replies, “Even my own brothers tell me to shut up from time to time, but you never have.”

“Honestly, Tech, I didn’t think I was your type.” You admit sheepishly, “So I kind of slotted you in the ‘look but don’t touch’ column.”

“Why would you think that?”

“I don’t know if you noticed,” You say dryly, “But I’m a bit…flighty.”

“I noticed that, yes.”

“And, like, super scatterbrained. And not all that smart-”

“Do you want to know the first good memory I have of this planet?” Tech interrupts you.

“-uh…sure?”

“The summer dance festival.” Tech says, turning to watch you, “You were wearing this sheer material that reminded me of the ocean, and you were dancing to some type of music that I have never heard before-”

“I remember that. I was the opening act for the little ones.” You say with a small smile.

“It was the most beautiful thing that I have ever seen in my life,”

“I…really?”

“I think about that more than I should.” Tech admits, not the least bit ashamed.

You press your hands against your burning cheeks, “Oh.”

“If I have made you uncomfortable-”

“No! No! Not at all!” You blurt, and then you giggle, “I’m actually really, really happy.”

Tech pauses, “Happy enough to go on a date with me?”

You beam at him, “I’d really like that!”

A small smile crosses his face, “Then we can work out the details when we are finished here.” His smile grows when he hears you giggling even more.

“Alright! Then we should probably get to work moving the boxes.” You add as you force yourself to get your giggles under control. And then you grin, and quickly dart to his side and press a quick kiss to his cheek, before you pull away, “I have a box cart thing upstairs, let me go grab it!”And as you dart up the stairs, you see Tech press his hand against his cheek, where you just kissed him, and a bubbly giggle slips from your lips. This is the best day ever.

#star wars #tbb #vodika-vibes follower celebration #tbb tech x reader #tech x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #f!reader fanfic #answered asks

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pinky-the-elephant-room · 10 months

Text

Exhilaration

⊙ AN: I came out of my cave to write after I got inspired by Jujutsu Kaisen

⊙ Warning: Spoilers for Season 2. Explicit sexual content with degradation. A bit of an age gap of about 2 or 3 years. Senpai Gojo Satoru x Kohai Fem Reader

⊙ Summary: He attained more power than anyone could have ever imagined - to use to better society. So why is his first thought to use it to have you? AKA the fic where Gojo has a near-death experience, develops a superiority complex, and fucks you.

⊙⊙⊙⊙⊙

Exhilarated.

That was the word to describe the state he was in.

His breath, shaky, due to the sheer excitement coursing through his veins.

His eyes no doubt if he could see himself- the usual brilliance enhanced ten folds over as if his red and blue techniques actualized themselves within the depths of his irises.

He had ascended, no longer a mortal. No longer just a sorcerer. As though the heir of the Gojo clan could just be meer chattel. He would be a pretense for a God-like perfect being. If only God himself could reach the pinnacle of his power now.

Death was the inevitable end but for Gojo it instead became the catalyst of power. Power no being could have realized nor will ever realize.

Speaking of death, he had been just a hair length away from the experience as the former Zenin proceeded to slice and dice him into pieces as if he was just another nameless target.

He would have slaughtered them all. Every single one of those…. Monsters

If it wasn’t for Suguru. He would have. Until their brain matters were indistinguishable from the asphalt rubble.

⊙⊙⊙⊙⊙

Gojo tilted her head up, his thumb pressed firmly in her mouth.

She gasped, “Ah, senpai.”

Cute, cute Y/N. Why couldn’t he also have her? Out of respect for his best friend, he was contrite to leave the first year alone. Suguru was exasperated with him for trying to mess with another colleague after the last one had gone spectacularly well.

By well he means dead.

He remembered their first meeting well. On seeing him for the first time as if unable to help herself Y/N blurted, “Oh wow, you’re so handsome.” And then proceeded in utter embarrassment to melt into the ground.

He had laughed it off thinking it as no more than a slip of the tongue from a newbie.

But he had made a mistake. By dismissing Y/N he made her uninteresting and therefore assumed her weak.

She would be considered weak simply going by her cursed energy yet the difference between Y/N and weaklings was the self-awareness she had.

She was cognizant of how much energy she had and how much she can afford to use. It made her fascinating to watch.

There was no wasted effort nor cursed energy expended. She saw the problem and figured out how to handle it while keeping her person intact.

Which was why she kept surviving and kept returning mission after mission.

Gojo figured she would succumb sooner or later to a curse. As was the harsh reality of their world.

So, imagine to his surprise when his adorable kohai was still around months later to bask in his handsome face.

He could have had her months ago if he wanted to. At least that’s what he thought. She was aching for it- her eyes persistently seeking him out whenever they happened on each other.

The blessed awareness he had so praised a few moments earlier was also the reason she kept herself safe from him.

It was like she had a rule of ‘you can look but don’t touch.’

His colleagues and friends alike shared the same wariness. But they assumed with him being an ally they were safe. She however was conscious of the fact that no one was truly safe with him.

When Gojo bemoaned shared Y/N’s reluctance with Suguru- his friend in return praised Y/N’s intelligence unlike the ones he lured to his bed.

The same friend whose eyes reflected malice and disgust when faced with the ugliness of the masses.

⊙⊙

He showed up at her door room, unexpectedly hours after the failed mission—his uniform still torn and ragged, caked in his own blood.

“Senpai,” she gasped, reaching out tentatively to grasp his shoulder as if to make sure this was reality and not something from her nightmares. “Are you ok? Should I call Ieiri-senpai?”

He grabbed her hand with his own. Taking a moment to caress her hand and appreciate its softness before kissing it.

Y/N swallowed and squirmed, uncomfortable at the show of affection.

“I’m fine. In fact, I’ve never felt so better in my life.”

Tugging her hand, Gojo pulled her into his embrace.

“Except for the moments when you’re with me.”

That line would have gotten a blush from anyone else but Y/N only stared at him contemplatively.

He ignored her unspoken inquisition to lightly press his thumb against her bottom lip. Whatever momentary conflict that was brewing within her was pushed aside as he felt her teeth nip at his thumb before licking it in consolation.

Taking the action as permission, he pressed his thumb into her mouth.

She whimpered, cowed by his dominance.

Gojo glanced down and noticed her aroused nipples poking through her soft cotton t-shirt which she had worn to bed no doubt.

He tweaked it with his other hand, invoking a groan- and reached down to grab the hem of her shirt to pull it over.

Perhaps he was mentally unprepared to see her full tits look so invitingly captivating. Gojo couldn’t help himself when he maneuvered her cunt to grind on his thigh while at the same time reaching down to suck.

Her nails dug into his shoulders as Y/N without any further prompting started to writhe and grind on his thighs.

Arousal seemed to permeate through their skin. Egging each other on concurrently.

Gojo smiled widely almost a bit deranged-like at the sight of Y/N helping him pull her shirt off completely.

He pushed her to the ground and slid the boy shorts she had on until it pooled around her knees loosely.

He admired the curvature of her spine, giving quick kisses along the way until he was met with the sight of her cunt being exposed from her kneeling.

She wasn’t quite wet yet. He wasn’t disappointed though he could change that quite easily.

Gojo took his time, preparing her one finger at a time. While keeping her mouth occupied with his own, his hands in her hair allowed him to control the pace of their kiss.

Only when he could hear the wet sounds as his fingers entered back and forth did he give her a reprieve.

Relieving himself of his pants, Gojo placed himself over her. He lined his member at her entrance and then pushed slowly.

He let out a low groan and closed his eyes. She was squeezing him tightly almost like she wanted to push him back out. A shiver of pleasure goes down his spine.

“Ah!,” she cried out. “Don’t stop. Please.”

Gojo picked up his pace and basically started shoving himself inside her. A resounding sound of flesh slapping against another became evident along with the muffled screams of Y/N as she in vain tried to suppress as she bit down on her finger.

“You’re so filthy, Y/N. Aren’t you a virgin? Letting yourself be taken in this way for your first time,” he leaned over and rasped into her ear.

He hadn’t imagined fucking her doggy style right at the entrance of her dorm room.

Just like Fushigoro Toji hadn’t imagined being killed by the brat he thought he had already finished off. But life makes exceptions for Gojo Satoru.

At that moment he bites down on her shoulder as he feels pleasure takeover his mind. He did have the foresight to pull out and spill down the juncture of her thighs.

There was sick satisfaction from watching his essence coat her cunt and thighs.

Y/N slumped from exhaustion and turned on her back to watch him.

Her cheeks flushed and hair mussed, Y/N had never looked so beautiful to him.

Feeling the sting of want bubble up in his stomach again, Gojo bit the inside of her thigh and settle himself nicely in between her legs.

He would remake the very foundations of their world. Recreate and shape the world as he saw fit. As was his right. And in his world- the rules, the tradition, and the elders would be no more than a relic of the past. In this same world, he would take what he wanted without any hesitation and right the wrongs no one ever could.

In this world, he would never hesitate to have and keep Y/N. Fearing one day she too would be gone from a curse.

And now he had the means to make it a reality.

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo x oc #gojo satoru x you #gojo smut #jjk gojo #jujutsu gojo #gojo saturo #gojo satoru

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zerobaselove · 1 year

Text

acting homework | kim jiwoong

pairing: actor!jiwoong x costar!reader

genre: suggestive MINORS DNI

word count: 1096

warnings: no smut but it does get suggestive, lowercase intended, not proofread

prompts: 16. "let's kiss and see where this takes us."

notes: this unsurprisingly made my jiwoong problems so much worse LMAO but apologies as this is a little rushed and not my strong suit

"and, cut." the directors sharp voice cut through the air, ripping you and jiwoong out of the immersion of the kiss scene, not that there was much immersion to begin with. with his busy idol schedule on top of acting, you two hadn't actually gotten to meet until today, having done script readings over zoom and speaking in hypotheticals for weeks; so to say it was a little awkward was an understatement.

the director let out a heavy sigh, shaking his head at the two of you, "let's wrap up for the day," he put down his clipboard before walking over to you and jiwoong. "i need you guys to work on your chemistry, we are going for romance not whatever you think this is. you're both better than that and you know it." his words were harsh, but you couldn't help but agree with his statement; you two weren't exactly giving romance, and something had to change.

the director turned on his heel, walking back to his trailer, leaving the you and the taller man standing there, an awkward silence surrounding you. "so," you spoke up, not really knowing where to take your words. thankfully he took the lead, speaking up himself.

"do you maybe want to hang out? off this set, maybe somewhere with less people breathing down our necks." he let out a laugh, you following suit; the tension already lessening, thank god.

"yeah that sounds good, but where is even private around here?" you wondered out loud, you were in one of the biggest and busiest cities in the country. "well i know it's not very romantic but," he sighed, realizing how lame his suggestion was, "we could always go to my group's company building, there's always empty rooms there. and they're soundproof." he winked at you before his serious composure broke, suddenly covering his face in embarrassment of the implications it might've had. it was cute, you weren't used to seeing this side of him, but it made you feel a bit more at ease.

giving a small nod, you gestured for him to lead the way, the two of you making small talk on the way to the parking lot. surprisingly the conversation flowed better than you had imagined and you found yourself enjoying his conversation at the least. "this is me," he gestured to an all black car in front of you, rushing ahead to open the passenger door for you.

"thank you jiwoong." you smiled, hopping in the front seat as your eyes grazed over the details of the car.

a coffee cup for this morning you presume was sat in the cupholder, the other one filled with loose change. instead of the stereotypical fuzzy dice on the rearview mirror, he had a little charm of a butterfly which you thought was quite cute.

"here," he handed you his phone, spotify open already, "you can be in charge of the music." his smile was contagious, you thought to yourself, unable to contain a small smile from spreading to your lips as he looked at you with joy. you had only nodded as you scrolled through his playlists, heading out of the parking lot.

"oh i love this song," he exclaimed as you played something from his liked songs, causing you to laugh. "i hope so, it's from your likes." a sheepish grin took over his face, chuckling lightly before shaking his head, "you make a fair point."

the rest of the drive had been peaceful, light conversation in between faint melodies playing over the speakers. it was nice, he was nice; you had no doubt about that before, but getting to start to see his personality, you totally saw what everyone else saw in him, beyond his good looks.

arriving at what you assumed was the company building, jiwoong rushed out of the car, opening your door for you yet again. "i know how to use door handles, you know" you chuckled, nodding your head as a thank you before following him to the entrance. "what kind of gentleman would i be then?" tilting his head as the sliding doors to the building opened themselves for you this time.

eventually you ended up at what you assumed was a vocal practice room; there was a keyboard sitting in the corner with a desk and chair, as well as a small two seater couch that looked rather inviting after you'd spent your whole day standing. jiwoong sat down first, ushering you over to get comfortable.

"so, what do you want to do, do you want to practice, or?" you rambled on, not noticing the way jiwoong smiled at your string of words.

"well how about," he thought for a moment; he hadn't expected to like you this much, this quickly, but he couldn't stop thinking about kissing you, for real this time. not for the script or the directors approval, just to feel your lips on his. "let's kiss and see where this takes us, yeah?"

you didn't mean to nod so eagerly, but it was too late, jiwoong's smile widening at the idea of you wanting this as bad as he did. his hand came up to the back of your neck pulling you in slightly, your eyes fluttering shut as your heads tilted, connecting in a kiss that you were convinced had caused fireworks to go off around you. this was no match for earlier today, you thought to yourself. you weren't sure what changed but you were sure that you didn't want to stop.

you let one hand rest on his torso as you leaned in closer, parting your lips slightly, letting his tongue lick into your mouth. sure, it was moving a little fast, but you didn't care; he was addicting.

he tugged on your hair slightly, causing you to moan into his mouth which made his head spin more than he had been prepared for. his free hand had found it's way under your shirt, grabbing you at the waist, sending butterflies to your stomach. "do you want me to stop?" he mumbled against your lips, wanting to make sure you were okay with everything. you let out an opposing hum, but that wasn't enough for him.

"i need words love," the pet name made you dizzy, pulling apart for a moment to nod feverishly, "please, continue." your words were whinier than you meant them to be, but at this point you couldn't be bothered to care.

"then let's keep it up."

#zerobaseone #zerobaseonefics #boys planet #boys planet fics #boys planet imagines #boys planet reactions #kpop #boys planet drabbles #zb1 #zb1 x reader #zb1 imagines #kim jiwoong imagines

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