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#and then he suddenly starts asking me about what book i’m reading WHILE I’M TRYING TO DO DISHES
strwberri-milk · 1 day
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Midnight Blues
Rafayel x Reader || Mild Insomnia, Comfort || 1 184 words
a/n: my toxic trait is pretending im a singer and compiling songs into albums and naming them and midnight blue is the name of the hypothetical album that encapsulates falling in love with rafayel and i guess i could make a playlist bc thats the normal thing to do but i just name fanficitions after them ig. also this is based off his treasure secret time - idgaf about the mensturation i only care about the fact that hums your ass to rest and the lore drop that is rafayel calling you at night when the two of you first start met bc it would help you sleep
You can hardly remember what nights were like before without the sound of his voice in your ears.
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You sigh as you sink into your bed, staring up at the ceiling after doing another quick lap around the house to try and tire yourself out. Your body is tired, you know it is. You just wish that you could sleep, not at all excited about the prospect of having to go to work tomorrow after being unable to sleep all night.
You’re about to start your nightly routine of tossing and turning when your phone suddenly starts to ring. A smile makes its way onto your face as you recognise the caller ID, putting your phone against your ear and humming lightly to alert the other side to your presence.
“You’re still awake, huh?” Rafayel’s teasing tone asks through the phone. The two haven’t known each other long but that didn’t seem to bother Rafayel in the slightest.
“Yeah,” you sigh, putting your phone on speaker next to you on the pillow.
All it took was falling asleep one time in a conversation with him for Rafayel to pounce on that and decide to take advantage of it. You swore up and down that it was a mistake, that it wasn’t because of Rafayel that you fell asleep but deep down you know that something about that silky smooth timbre of his voice made your worries go away. You’d never slept so soundly, mortified at the teasing text that he sent you when you read it in the morning.
However, you had to admit defeat and let the man do whatever he wanted. Even before you met him it was clear that Rafayel didn’t care much for whatever the people around him want. He does as he pleases and now, it seems that he’s convinced you won’t sleep without him talking to you.
“If you wanted me to call you all you had to do was ask,” he says after a while, letting you get settled in bed.
“I’m grown. I can take care of myself,” you reply, Rafayel imagining a slight pout on your features as you did so.
“Ah, I see. So you don’t need me to talk you to sleep then? I’ll hang up then.”
“Wait!” you shout quickly, shooting out of bed and grabbing your phone.
“Don’t…don’t go. Please?”
“Begging now? I guess if you’re that desperate for my company I’ll give it to you.”
You can hear how smug he is, rolling your eyes at how obvious his tells are. You wonder how Thomas hasn’t figured him out yet – Rafayel isn’t nearly as sneaky as he seems to think he is.
“Are you driving?” you ask after a second, settled back into bed again and listening carefully to his end of the call.
“I’m heading back from an exhibition. I could have booked a hotel but I didn’t feel like staying the night there so I’m making the long drive home. I called you to see if you’d keep me company.”
You tug your blankets around yourself, losing yourself in their warmth as you yawn. The exhaustion begins to sit on your shoulders again but this time, it feels more manageable. His voice swims around your head as he starts rambling about the exhibition. You’re glad to hear that it went off without a hitch, having declined his invitation yourself due to a more urgent task of the day.
“Are you even listening to me?” he asks, bringing your attention back to him.
“Hmm? Yeah, sellers bullying you, people hitting on you, same old same old,” you mumble, burying yourself further into your bed.
“If you didn’t like it that much, why didn’t you just make something up to get out of it?”
“I couldn’t bail on Thomas again. I felt bad for him constantly fielding off journalists and this show was supposedly a big deal so I decided to do him a favour. Plus, I blew off all the shows so far this month so I might as well make myself seen at a more important one.”
Leave it to Rafayel to make doing his job seem like a favour to someone else. Even if he acts like he’s got his head in the clouds you know he’s genuinely kind – if you’ve got the patience to go digging through the layers that make up the enigmatic artist. You feel thankful that the world brought you to him, even if you weren’t sure what the budding feeling in your chest is.
“You had a long day, huh? I can hear it in your voice.”
You give him another hum, not wanting to bother with any words.
“Even if I ask you a question you don’t need to reply. It’s getting late and I won’t be home for at least another hour. I really did just want your company you know. I’m glad that you answered my call. It would have been miserable if I had to drive home all alone.”
It doesn’t take Rafayel much time to start rambling at you again. You don’t know how he manages to find anything and everything to say to you and keep himself entertained, laughing at his own jokes and taking the soft noises you make as jumping off points to completely go on a new tangent.
When he hears your light snores and steady breathing, he smiles to himself. The sound of your breath surrounds him in his car and if he weren’t such a responsible driver, he’d close his eyes just to pretend that he’s laying in bed with you.
Normally, Rafayel was perfectly content driving home in silence, finding the long expanse of road the perfect opportunity to ground himself after all of the cameras and people in his face. Honestly, he only left when he did to make sure he’d be able to call you at the same time he did every night. Your inability to sleep well worried him and even if you didn’t fully understand the extent of his feelings towards you, he wouldn’t let that get in the way of taking care of you. You make him happy after all, especially when he hears you try to rouse yourself from sleep in a desperate attempt to show him that you’re listening to him. The mental image of your sleepy eyes trying to focus on his face makes his heart melt, impatiently tapping his finger against the steering wheel at the annoyance of being unable to call you his just quite yet.
Even when he gets home, he doesn’t hang up on you. He’s careful to do his nightly routine quietly, using the sound of your breathing as his favourite symphony and he settles down for the night himself. He even continues to speak to you softly, wanting to make sure that his voice lulls you into a truly restful slumber. He thinks about you a lot and being able to help you in any form always makes his heart feel so full.
He won’t admit that talking to you on these late nights makes him sleep well too, putting his phone on the pillow beside him before falling asleep to thoughts of you.
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olivexii · 3 days
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⁀➷ ┄─ ˑ V . ☆ ──ㅤ Knee Socks
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Joseph Descamps x reader
Chapter 5
Masterlist
Warnings: Smoking
┌── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┐
“How’s your exposé coming along?” I asked the two girls as we walked to school.
“It’s alright. We haven’t started writing yet but we picked a theme, so that’s something!” Simone replied, “How’s yours? What was Descamps like?”
Michèle remained silent, listening.
“He was alright. Upset about his eye but, he was alright.”
“He didn’t start anything did he?”
“No, he was actually nice. He worked for a bit and tidied everything up at the end.” The two gave me a look of suspicion when I said that.
“He definitely wants something from you.” Simone exclaimed and Michèle nodded in agreement.
“No he doesn’t.”
“What if he does?” Asked the blonde girl.
“What could he want?”
“I don’t know, but keep your eye on him Y/N.” Simone said as we neared the school gates.
I grumbled a response that they couldn’t hear as we headed to class, Simone pointing out yet another cute boy in the corridor.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
During first lesson, Annick came running in late, blonde hair untidy and her pretty blue dress wrinkled.
“Miss Sabiani, how kind of you to grace us with your presence.” Bluebeard called to her with the intention of embarrassing her.
As Annick looked off to the side, I curiously followed her gaze, turning my head until my eyes landed on Pichon, who was smiling back at the blonde girl. Cute.
Unsurprisingly, Descamps catches my eye as I start to turn my head back to the front. I’m guessing he could feel my eyes looking towards him as he turned to face me as well, a soft, rosy pink colour coating his cheeks as we made eye contact
I quickly turned to the front after meeting his gaze, embarrassed, now focusing on the teacher and Annick.
As Mrs Giraud was distracted with reading the late note she was given, I heard Descamps’ voice call for Pichon.
Pichon stuttered out a response nervously, but I couldn’t make out what he was saying, I was too nervous to turn around and look at the two incase they caught me eavesdropping.
“You’ve come to class looking like that?”
“I’m sorry, I had to run.” The blonde at the front of the class replied, trying to catch her breath.
“Well you should leave earlier shouldn’t you? One hours detention.”
“But-”
“Do you object?” The teacher leaned towards her, late note still in hand.
While Sabiani protested against Mrs Giraud (earning her multiple hours of detention.) I turned to look at Simone on the right of me, her doing the same. We both rolled our eyes at the stubborn teacher and waited for the class to be over.
Not much else happened for the rest of the day, just a lot of eye rolling and sighing out of tiredness.
Descamps had come up to me at break, telling me that we were going to his after school to work on the project, and that he would wait for me outside of my last class.
“We need to get the Camus books from my house before we go to yours.” I told him, putting on my cardigan as he held onto my satchel.
“It’s on the way anyway.” He replied, handing me my bag back.
“Thank you.” I mumbled, throwing it over my shoulder.
We had not talked about what had happened last time we saw each other. We were both nervous to bring it up.
“My ma also wants to know if you’re staying for dinner” Descamps broke the silence, hands slumped into his pockets.
“Uhm- I’ll have to ask my brother when we get to mine.”
Suddenly his hand grabbed my arm, moving us over to the right as a car sped past us, the breeze blowing my hair into my face.
“Prick.” Joseph grumbled as he tucked my hair behind my ear before looking angrily at the car which had now sped away.
“T-thank you.” I stuttered, looking up at him as he started to walk again, leaving me stood there blushing. I ran after him to catch up, my legs not as long as his.
We didn’t speak another word until we got to my house, just awkward eye contact and the grazing of our arms as we moved out of the way of passing cars.
“I’m going to go pack the books, can you ask my brother if I can stay at yours for dinner please?” I told the tall boy as I opened the door.
He just nodded and followed me into the house.
“You took long walking.” Michael said as he stood up from the couch, walking towards us with a bottle of beer in his hand.
“Yep, I’m going to pack books, we’re study at Descamps’ tonight.” I said, pulling my cardigan and shoes off before running up the wood staircase.
“Okay…” Was all I heard from Michael as I got further away, his conversation with Joseph fading out as I entered my room.
Quickly I grabbed a bigger satchel, placing the books that Joseph had put away yesterday into it.
As I slung it over my shoulder I leant down to look at my self in my vanity mirror. My hair was out of place and my face was still red, either from walking or Joseph tucking my hair behind my ear.
I ran my hand through my hair, trying to tame it as I sighed, mentally preparing for the next few hours.
“Alright, let’s go Descamps.” I said, running down the stairs and slipping my shoes on.
“Be home before the street lamps come on!” Michael said as he turned to sit back down on the couch, papers sprawled over the floor messily, probably his homework.
“Yes I know. Come on Joseph.” I huffed, grabbing him by his jacket and walking back out onto the street.
“You’re in a rush.” He chuckled, shutting the door behind him with one hand, his other gripping onto my bare arm that was holding onto his jacket.
“I’m tired and want to sit down. Now can we hurry up and walk to yours?” I complained as I let go of him.
He laughed in response and started walking. We walked a few steps before he realised he was still holding onto my wrist, quickly letting go. I mentally pouted at this, crossing my arms in an attempt to warm me up as the autumn breeze ran through the streets.
“You’re cold.” He stated, looking at me before pulling a packet of cigarettes and a silver lighter out of his brown jacket.
“No I’m not.” I replied, bringing my arms closer to me, “I just left my cardigan back home, I’m fine.”
“You’re shaking.” The boy carried on, lighting his cigarette and taking a drag.
“I’m fine.” I stated again, my pace quickening. I just wanted to sit down in a warm house.
“Here.” He stopped in his tracks, cigarette in his mouth and lighter in hand as he pulled off his brown jacket, revealing his deep green jumper.
I didn’t reply, only turning to look at him.
He pushed the jacket into my arms, “If you die of hyperthermia, I won’t get a good grade on this project .” He chuckles and puts his lighter into his trouser pocket.
I pouted at him, putting my satchel onto the pavement and fitting my arms into his jacket. It came to my mid thigh, the arms length covering my hand completely.
“You look like you’re drowning in it.”
“Shut up. You’re abnormally shaped it’s not my fault.” I sigh, picking my bag back up.
“YOU’RE the one thats abnormally shaped.” He took another drag of his cigarette and turned to carry on walking.
“You’re like what, 187cm? That’s not normal for someone our age.” I followed him.
“Excuse you. Anything under 170 is not normal for someone our age.”
“Okay. No need to be mean about it.”
“I’m not being mean, I’m being honest. There’s a difference.” The boy turned his head to me, one hand in his pocket, the other holding the half burnt out cigarette in his smirking mouth.
“Okay fine, just unlock your door Descamps.” I grumbled as we reached his front door, happy that I could finally sit down.
“Say please.” He held the key in front of me, one hand on the door nob.
“Please unlock your stupid door Descamps.” I repeated.
“There we go. See, I have a good influence on you, teaching you manners.” He smiled as he opened the door, discarding his cigarette in a white ashtray that lay on a nearby table.
We both took our shoes off, placing them by the table and closing the front door. I kept his jacket on, not sure what to do next as I awkwardly stood in front of him.
“My room is this way.” He pointed out as we walked towards a white door. He took his green jumper off, the white shirt underneath slightly riding up.
He threw the jumper onto a brown chair and jumped onto his bed, hands behind his head and legs resting at the end of the bed.
I stood still, not knowing what to do as the boy closed his eyes.
On one side of his room there was a big window, the shelf nearby holding a few plants (pothos specifically) and a collection of vinyls.
I curiously wondered over, placing my bag by the window as I stood on my tip-toes to glance at his collection.
“Here.” I heard from behind me, the bed creaked and he walked up to me, reaching above me to grab the music. As he did so his chest touched my back, and my breath hitched in my throat.
I took the opportunity to look up at his face. Small dark freckles dotted his cheeks and his brown hair was tousled.
Joseph stepped back, not looking down at me as he turned and carried the collection to his bed. He lay back down and brought his arms behind his head again.
“Knock yourself out.” He said as I stood still, admiring him, “Why are you just stood there? Don’t be so stiff, sit down.” The boy grumbled and sat up.
Quickly I walked over and sat on the edge of his bed, looking between him and the vinyls. He just looked at me back, his hands on his lap.
I could still feel his gaze on me as I looked through his music collection slowly.
“Françoise Hardy?” I asked, looking between him and the record in front of me, “Really?”
“Yeah, what’s wrong with her? She has a good song, released last year. I forgot the name…” He tried to recall, “the one that goes, et les yeux dans les yeux?” He hummed, and pointed towards his eye, as if that would help him to remember.
“You like Françoise Hardy?” I asked again, smiling.
“Yeah… what’s wrong with her?” he questioned, head titled to the side and worry etched on his face, eye brows knotted together. He looked sort of cute. Almost like he couldn’t brutally bully half of the people in our class.
“N-nothing!” I exclaimed back, “Just figured you for more of a Johnny Hallyday kind of guy.”
The boy just looked back at me, confused as his head tilted more, his body leaning more on his hands and towards me.
“You know, the ‘French Elvis.’”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He replied softly, looking back down at the vinyl in my hands.
“Françoise Hardy however, me and my ma love her.”
“You’re so unpredictable Joseph.” I laughed, suddenly feeling hot under his gaze. I took off his brown jacket and slung it over a nearby chair.
“So, Camus?” I said, picking up my bag from by the window and going to sit down with by back leaning on his bed, books laying in my lap.
“If we have to.” He grumbled in response.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Papers were sprawled all over his bed when his mother entered the room.
“Joseph?” She whisper-shouted, before walking into the room and realising that we had both fallen asleep.
Joseph lay on his side, his head resting on his arm as his other one dangled by the side of the bed, holding the back of my head up as I was sat, legs crossed and books still sprawled on my lap.
His mother sighed before exiting the room, “Teenagers these days are so interested in their school work.” She sarcastically stated.
└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘
A/N: sorry for not uploading in a month, two deaths happened so I had a lot to take care of 😭
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togenabi · 6 months
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pick me up
roronoa zoro (opla) x reader
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♡—zoro never paid your jokes or pickup lines any mind. that is, until something happens that makes you stop.
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word count♡— 3.2k
genre♡— mild angst, fluff, straw hat!reader
content notes♡— opla zoro, fem!reader, reader wears a dress and tells very bad jokes, creepy dude oc, don't be creepy be cool yall, reader pulls off a heist with nami, zoro gets jealous, alcohol consumption, no use of y/n, barely proofread
also on♡— ao3
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author's note♡— this is a request from anon! I'm sorry if I tweaked a few things, I'm not the best at angst hhhh I hope you still like it!
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“Okay, okay. Wait. I got it this time.” You say, already trying to keep from laughing. 
“Why were the kids having trouble in pirate class?”
Zoro only side-eyes you with his arms crossed, vehemently unimpressed. 
“Because they were overbored!” 
Watching for his reaction intently, you keep your eyes focused on his face... Nothing changes. 
You tsk, but aren’t seriously discouraged. This is how he always reacts to your jokes, after all. “I’ll get you one of these days, Roronoa Zoro.”
The swordsman only sighs, leaning back into his seat to take a nap. “You do that.”
“Don’t listen to him, love.” Sanji says from the other side of the kitchen as he cleans the counter. “I thought that joke was good.”
“You’re lying, but I appreciate the sentiment, Sanji.” You grin at him. Focusing back on the book you were reading, you miss the amused, challenging look Sanji sends Zoro.
Everyone hears Luffy approaching the kitchen before he enters. “Guys!” He bellows. “We’ll be reaching land soon. Be ready to leave in fifteen minutes!”
The majority of the day is spent restocking supplies. You were all split up into pairs, but before you left, Luffy pointed to a restaurant with a flashy, illuminated sign on top that reads: ‘Bistro of Light’. How cringey of them.
“We should meet there for dinner! You don’t mind taking a break, right, Sanji?” Luffy asks eagerly, and you think that no one could say no to him when he’s so enthusiastic. Sanji nods, and you all go through the town until the sun starts to set.
The inside of the restaurant is just as ridiculous as the sign outside. Chandeliers of every color hang on the ceiling. Huge fish tanks and fountains lined with lights almost blind you. You laugh when looking at it all causes Zoro to wince. 
“Hey Zoro,” You call for him. “You know what’s faster than the speed of light?”
“...”
“My heartbeat when I think of you!” You wink at him, proud of the joke even when he only sighs and looks away.
Usopp walks up to a receptionist standing behind a desk. “Hey. Table for six, if you would be so kind.”
“I’m afraid we’re at full capacity at the moment.” They respond. “You’ll have to wait, is that alright?”
Everyone shares a look. Except for Luffy, who looks dead set on eating here, you all feel unsure about waiting.
“When’s the next table going to be available?” Usopp asks. “We’re actually a really big deal. It’s gonna be really embarrassing for you guys if you don’t let us in.” The person frowns, face screaming, ‘is this guy serious’?
But before they can reply, a booming voice enters the restaurant. A tall man, dressed in a pristine white suit and wearing jewels on every finger, pushes you out of the way to yell at the receptionist. You stumble, but thankfully Zoro is there to catch you.
“What on earth is going on here?! Why are there so many people crowding the entryway?!” He fumes, angrily gesturing to your group. 
“If they’re not going to eat, then I strongly suggest—” The rich man freezes suddenly, his eyes trained on you.
You keep your face as emotionless as possible, but you die laughing inside when Nami swipes a brooch from his jacket while he’s distracted with you.
“Ah,” The man says. His tone softening a considerable amount as he walks over to you. “I thought I had the best jewels in my treasury, but you're the most radiant gem I've ever laid my eyes on.” It takes everything in you to not back away. Zoro tenses beside you.
“Why haven’t these guests been guided to a table?” He asks, turning back to the receptionist.
“We’re at full capacity, Sir.” Oh. He must own the place. It makes sense that the owner is as gaudy as everything else in here.
“That won’t do.” He looks back to you, and you swear you could feel your skin crawl under his gaze. 
“I am Helios. Welcome to my establishment.” The man introduces himself with a flourish, bowing to you. His jewels and gold accessories glint in the light. “What might your name be?”
Reluctantly, you introduce yourself. Had this been a normal situation, you would have turned around and walked away from him the second he saw you. But, you could feel the crew going hungry, and you’re sure Nami will want to snag another ring or two—so you play nice.
Helios smiles, repeating your name. He was probably trying to sound romantic, but he’s not doing anything for you. Not when Zoro says your name much better.
You keep Zoro’s voice in mind, remembering how nice it sounds. It’s easier to smile at Helios that way. Time to lay on the charm, “I was really looking forward to having dinner here. I don’t suppose you could help us out?”
“Follow me, my dear. You deserve to dine upstairs. The view is simply spectacular at this hour.” Helios holds out his hand to you, but Luffy—bless his soul—grabs it to shake it zealously.
“Thanks so much for letting us eat here, Mr. Helios!” Luffy claps him on the back. Helios looks dumbfounded, and the crew does an impressive job keeping their composure. 
Helios tries to walk beside you as he guides you all upstairs, but Zoro is steadfast on your right, and Nami smartly positions herself on your left. Luffy and Usopp tug the restaurant owner along, chatting his ear off. You almost feel bad for him. 
Nami murmurs, her voice carefully silent so only you can hear. “Treasury, huh?”
You smile. “Of course you’d be curious about that.”
“Think you could get us to his mansion?” She dares you, eyes aglow at the promise of a good heist.
“I know I can.” You pause walking to check your reflection on an ornate, sun-shaped mirror. After fixing your hair, you grin at your friends. “I’m irresistible, after all.”
Maybe if you weren’t busy buttering up your host, you would have noticed that Zoro wasn’t eating properly. Normally, you would force him to eat. You would pile food on his plate, telling that joke about fake noodles being impasta that always cracks you up.
Zoro frowns at the meal in front of him. The fish seems to frown back. Sighing, he decides to just order another drink. But no matter what he consumes, a bitter taste always blooms in his mouth afterwards. 
The glass in his hand almost cracks when he hears your voice sucking up to Helios again. “So, you own this place? Do you live around here?”
Helios leans far too close towards you, but you grin and bear it. “Would you like a private tour, my gem?”
You place a hand on his arm, he may read it as affection, but you hold him so he keeps that distance. “That sounds wonderful.”
Zoro huffs under his breath. He needs another drink. 
Thankfully, Helios serves good booze at his manor. Zoro almost didn’t want to drink any of it, but he needs alcohol in his system if he has to watch you flirt with this idiot so Nami can rob him blind. Whatever she steals better be worth all this, or else he might punch something. Or someone. Preferably Helios.
You share a look with Nami and give her an imperceptible nod. With that signal, she passes by and pretends to lose her footing. Wine seeps into your clothes, staining the fabric and sticking it to your skin. Did she really have to pick red wine? You liked this shirt.
“Oh, my dear!” Helios gasps. “You should get cleaned up. I’ll have my servants draw you a bath and bring you fresh clothes.”
“I’m so sorry, I should’ve watched where I was going.” Nami loops her arm through yours. “Let me help you with that.” 
And so, with another fake smile sent Helios’ way, you rush with Nami to find the treasury.
“Be quick.” Nami says once you enter the luxurious bathroom prepared for you. 
As tempting as the bubble bath is, you only take a few wet towels to tidy up. You step into the curtained area, about to strip when Nami holds out a hand to stop you.
“Wait.” She says, her tone serious. A teddy bear holding a rose is propped up on a shelf behind you. Tapping its eyes, Nami scowls before throwing the bear into the trash bin.
“A camera?” She nods. “Seriously? What a creep.”
You and Nami inspect the room. It’s not clear if there are other hidden cameras, but she stands guard in front of the shower curtains just in case.
“Hey,” She starts. “Did you notice Zoro acting weird tonight?”
You frown as you change into the dress Helios prepared. “What do you mean?”
Nami hums in thought. “He’s just…” A dumbass, she wants to say, but doesn’t. “He seems extra grumpy.”
That causes you to laugh. “I guess I should prepare more jokes for him when we get back.”
She winces. “...I’m not that sure he likes those.”
“Hm… Maybe not, but,” You pause to think. He may not laugh loudly as Luffy does, but he never shot you down for being bubbly around him. “Zoro would have told me to shut up by now if he didn’t, right?”
“Huh.” Nami says. “You got a point.”
You push the curtains aside, grinning at her. “Come on, let’s break into that treasury.”
“Of course, my gem.”
“Oh my god, if that sticks I’m going to be so mad.”
The treasury was a vault full of everything from jewels to ornamental weapons. Nami playfully crowned you with a diamond tiara, and she put on dangling emerald earrings that looked stunning on her.
After filling your bags and pockets with the most you can carry, you and Nami head out to find the others. You run into Usopp on the way back to the lounge.
“I see you two cleaned up well.” He jokes. “Luffy and Sanji are in the kitchen. I was just on my way there.”
“Where’s Zoro?” You ask.
“With Helios. You know him, still drinking.”
“We should leave soon.” Nami insists. “We risk getting caught the longer we stay.”
“Right.” You hand Usopp your bag, his eyes widen comically when he feels how heavy it is. “I’ll just go say goodbye, I’ll catch up with you guys later.”
Before you even enter the lounge, however, you hear Zoro speak your name. Are they talking about you? You press your back against the wall, straining to hear their conversation.
You almost wish you didn’t.
“She tells the worst jokes and doesn’t know when to quit it. Thinks she’s hilarious but she’s really not.” Zoro speaks in that deep voice that would usually be comforting to you—but his words now pierce through you painfully.
“What exactly is your relationship with her?” Helios asks, and Zoro is silent. It feels like your heart crumbles for every second he doesn’t answer.
You’re friends! You’ve been dreaming of more but, you’ve always been friends.
…Aren’t you? Doesn’t he think so?
“I don’t know.” Your heart fully shatters. What does he mean he doesn’t know? “She just sticks to me a lot. It can get annoying.”
“Well. That’s unfortunate, but it’s nothing to sob over.” Helios kisses his teeth. “I don’t care about her attitude. All that doesn’t matter as long as she has that pretty face.”
You wait for Zoro to say something. Anything. You want him to cut Helios where he stands.
But he doesn’t. The silence drags on. The air feels like it’s pushing you down, crushing your lungs. You have to get out of here.
You burst into the kitchen, trying your best not to cry. Nami immediately rushes to you, holding your shoulders to steady you. “What happened?”
Letting out a shuddered breath, you whisper, “You were right.” It’s impossible to think straight right now. “I want to leave.”
You look to Luffy, still shaken up. Your captain’s expression is serious as he nods. “Go ahead, we’ll get Zoro and catch up.” Not needing to be told twice, you head out the door.
Before she follows you, Nami hisses at Sanji, “Talk some sense into that dumbass, won’t you?”
The entire walk back to the Going Merry is silent. You’re grateful Nami doesn’t immediately press you for what happened, but you know that you should answer her questions. You finally get the words out in the safety of her cabin.
You sit cross-legged on the bed, and everything comes pouring out. “He called me annoying.” 
“Zoro?” She asked, offering you a box of tissues.
“Yeah.” You sniff, taking the box.
“I’m sorry. That was fucked up of him to say.”
Unsure how to properly comfort you, Nami gets up and retrieves extra pillows from a storage compartment.
“Why don’t we have a girl’s night?” Nami asks, offering you a smile. It pulls a smile out of you too, the first one you mustered since Zoro crushed your spirit. 
“I’d like that.” 
Zoro is confused to find that you and Nami had left before them. Luffy gave Helios some lame excuse that you weren’t feeling well, but Zoro knew better. If you were really sick, the whole crew would be panicking and rushing to get to you.
He stares at Sanji and Usopp, trying to piece together what really happened. They both turn away from him, refusing to say anything.
In the next second, a maid rushes out, panting and screaming, “Mr. Helios! The treasury has been robbed!”
Fine. Answers can come later. For now, they need to run.
Once they’re back on the ship, Sanji follows Zoro into his cabin. He stares at the chef blankly, “Get out.”
“Did you do something?” Sanji leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Get out.” Zoro repeats, about to push him out of the room when Sanji speaks your name.
“She was upset. Asked to leave as soon as possible.” Sanji’s gaze is almost menacing, and his frown deepens when Zoro’s face falls. So, that’s what happened. You had heard him.
“Fuck.” Zoro groans, running a hand through his hair in frustration.
“Everyone noticed you getting bitchy over Helios.” Sanji notes “Did you confront him or something?”
Scoffing, Zoro sits on his hammock, the fabric dips under his weight. “It was something, all right.”
Wanting Zoro to explain himself unpromptedly, Sanji just watches him and lets the silence hang in the air. After a solid, suffocating minute, the swordsman caves.
“I called her annoying.” Zoro breathes out deeply. “I said her jokes aren’t funny and that she sticks to me a lot.”
“Man, that’s screwed up.” Sanji gapes. “I thought you cared about her?”
“Of course I do, but I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true.” Zoro defends. “Luffy’s the only one who laughs at her jokes, and she’s always by my side.” 
Sighing, Zoro continues, “...but I never minded any of it. I learned to care for those parts of her a long time ago. I was only trying to get that shithead off her back.”
“You’re an idiot.” Sanji concludes. “You have the emotional depth of a sink, sometimes.”
Zoro, surprisingly, doesn’t insult the chef back. He stares at the wall, slouched and looking the most empty Sanji’s ever seen him.
“What should I do?” He asks. “How should I make it up to her?”
Sanji’s eyes light up, he beams and claps his hands together in excitement. Even if Zoro hasn’t heard it yet, he already dreads the chef’s suggestion. 
“I have an idea.”
When you woke up the next morning, you had every intention of avoiding Zoro like the plague. It was still really difficult to look at him, the hurt you felt still stings your heart. 
But unfortunately for you, he had other plans. 
You’re gazing out into the sea on the forecastle deck when you hear a familiar set of heavy footsteps. You sigh. “I don’t want to talk, Zoro.”
“I’m not here to talk.” You turn to him questioningly, but you really shouldn’t give him the time of day. Wasn’t he the one who complained about you clinging to him?
You don’t say anything. Only glaring at him and hoping he sees how disappointed you feel. Zoro stands here, appearing strangely vulnerable. If you weren’t so hurt, you would have hugged him by now. 
But you are. So he has to wallow in the awkwardness of the consequences of his words. He—wait. What’s that on his face?
“I…” Is he… blushing? “I’m sorry I wasn’t around in the past.” 
You make a face and blink at him. What is he up to?
“...Can I be part of your future?”
That knocks the wind right out of you, your jaw practically falls to the floor. Did Roronoa Zoro just use a pickup line? On you? You can’t help but glance at your surroundings to check if the sky is still blue.
No—hold on. He can’t win you over just like that. He needs to explain why he said what he did. 
“You said my jokes are the worst.” You grumble.
“They are.” Zoro looks straight into your eyes as he speaks. “But you’re one of the best things to ever happen to me.”
“You said I always stick to your side.”
He doesn’t miss a beat and answers earnestly, “You do. And I wouldn’t want you to be anywhere else.”
“…You said you didn’t know what our relationship is.”
That causes Zoro to pause, searching your eyes as if he’ll find the answer in them. “…I don’t.”
Oh, this impossible sword-brain of a man. Your lips quiver, and you realize you can’t fight back your smile anymore. “I love you, Zoro.”
His expression shifts from anxiousness to shock, relief, and a bit of something else... 
“I love you, too.” Ah, of course. Love, that too.
Slowly, tentatively, he raises his arms, inviting you to an embrace. He’s adorable, looking a teensy bit nervous that you wouldn’t want to hold him. Giggling, you rush to him, wrapping your arms around his waist as he envelops your shoulders. 
“I bet Sanji taught you to apologize with that line.” You murmur into his chest. “If you tell me another one…” Zoro cringes, his frame tensing. 
“...I’ll give you a kiss.” His expression lifts, seriously considering it.
After a minute, Zoro clears his throat. You almost squeal in excitement.
“Roses are red, violets are blue…” A classic. This is going to be good.
“I’m sorry if I made you feel awkward, I just want to have dinner with you.” You gasp, squeezing him tighter. 
“Yes! That was perfect.” Laughing, you reach up and hold his face to keep your promise. 
You plant a sweet, short kiss on his lips. When you pull away, he’s looking at you like he would fight anyone for you. He probably would, if you’re being honest.
“You’re perfect.” He breathes, mouth against yours and then he’s kissing you again.
Hiding behind a pile of crates, the rest of the crew whoop and cheer. (Silently.)
“That was such a good line!” Luffy whispers.
“I still think he should have used the ‘I don’t speak angel’ one.” Usopp whispers back.
“What are you talking about?!” Sanji angrily, quietly mutters. “That was perfect because he apologized and delivered the line.”
“Shut it, you guys. I was right, he didn’t last a day with her mad at him.” Nami holds out her palm. “Pay up.” The others groan, handing her some berry. All’s well that ends well.
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the-oblivious-writer · 3 months
Text
Get Her Back!
Clarisse La Rue x Daughter of Athena!Reader
One-shot
Summary: You and Clarisse have always had a reputation for the rollercoaster you both called your relationship. While on another one of your "breaks," you decide you want to mess with her
Warning(s): Swearing, Clarisse & r are hella toxic, jealousy (on both ends but mostly jealous!Clarisse), making out (nothing more is hinted at, just Clarisse & r kissing like the problematic girlfriends they are), & arguing
Notes: Wooo this one got a bit heated before I knew it. Hope you enjoy
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You and Clarisse La Rue… how does one sum up your relationship with the Ares kid? You and her were known for being on and off, arguing almost as much as you made out. You were both in a toxic, heated, yet passionate, relationship. 
Oh, how you loved each other. 
You met Clarisse the first summer you got to camp. It didn’t take long for you to discover what you had gotten yourself into. She argued with you about everything, she had an ego and a temper and a wandering eye; you couldn’t help but be attracted to her, even when she was so obviously lying about her height. 
The first time you left Clarisse was in the spring, that was when your current dynamic truly started. You lasted about a week before you were back in her arms, forgetting how you threw all her stolen clothes out your cabin’s window just a few nights before. 
You were currently going through another one of your breaks with Clarisse while you laid down on your bed, reading as you tried to ignore another little lecture from your friend. 
“All I’m saying is that I don’t understand why you stay with her, you know? The second my boyfriend did me wrong, I kicked his ass out the door. For good,” he said, sitting at the end of your bed.
“That’s because you didn’t have what me and Clarisse have,” you responded, looking up at him from your book. He shrugged, mumbling, “Whatever.” 
“Do you love or hate her? I honestly can’t tell anymore. One second, she’s the worst human being to ever exist but then the next, she’s the love of your life, the woman you’re gonna marry.”
“I guess it’s up and down,” you replied in a nonchalant tone before looking back at your book.
He lightly chuckled, shaking his head a bit as he said, “I need to learn when to give up trying to figure you out.”
Later that night was the bonfire. You didn’t really feel like attending but your friend had basically begged you to go. Just five minutes in, and he was already flirting with a girl from cabin ten. You were staring off into the fire, red solo cup in your hand, when you suddenly heard somebody sit next to you. You turned your head to see a dark haired boy, looking at you with a smile as he spoke.
“Hey gorgeous, I’m Steve. I think I’ve seen you around before. Athena cabin, right?” He asked, his eyes never pulling from you. You didn’t feel like entertaining him. You weren’t stupid, you knew he was flirting with you. But thoughts of not reciprocating his flirtatious attitude quickly disappear when you see Clarisse watching from the corner of your eyes. 
All night you had to watch Clarisse cuddle up with someone who wasn’t you. And all night you refused to give her the attention you knew she was hoping to get out of it, your pride and stubbornness wouldn’t allow you to. So when you finally get the chance for that sweet revenge, you don't hesitate.
You looked at the boy next to you, putting on a sweet smile and placing a hand on his knee. “Yeah, cabin six. What about you?” You slightly tilted your head, looking at him as if he was the most interesting person on earth.
“Hermes cabin,” he responded. He suddenly grew a bit shy under touch, but welcomed it nevertheless. “Hey do you uh… wanna get out of here? I know this cool spot I could show you.” You knew what that was code for; do you want to make out?
“Sure, sounds good,” you winked at him before getting up. He held his hand out for you, which you took as you both began to walk away from the fire. Clarisse's eyes were on you the whole time, clenching her jaw as she watched you walk with him hand in hand. She ignored her siblings’ confused looks as she walked over to you before you and Steve could go any further.
“I think she’s good here,” she said—not asked.
“Um, I think she can make her own decisions. She’s a big girl, if she wants to go, she can go,” he responded. 
“I don’t know who you think you are, but she’s not leaving with you.” She glared at the boy with storms in her eyes, her fists balled up. By now your hands were separated from the boy’s, watching the entertaining scene in front of you with a knowing look on your face.
“Excuse me–” Before he could get himself into any more trouble, you walked to Clarisse’s side—she instantly put her hand on your lower back.
“Listen it was nice meeting you Steve, but she’s right; I should really get going; it’s getting kinda late.” You gave him a fake apologetic look. “Maybe I’ll see you around some other time?” You managed to get out as Clarisse was practically dragging you away. 
“What’s your problem?” You said to her when you both finally made it to the cabin—her cabin. 
“My problem? What’s yours! You know Steve is a douchebag, we were literally laughing about it last week,” Clarisse let out with an aggravated tone. 
“Why do you care so much? Shouldn’t you be thrilled that somebody else is stuck with my high maintenance ass!” She only rolled eyes, shaking her head. “Yeah, you really think I wouldn’t bring that up!” You dryly laughed.
“Oh my Gods,” she mumbled before continuing. “You are the most frustrating woman I have ever met!”
“And you’re the most hot-tempered woman I have ever met!” You shouted back, throwing your hands up as you stepped closer to her. “You’re a hot-headed asshole!”
“Well it’s better than being a stubborn know-it-all!” She took a step towards you; your faces were now no more than inches apart. You both stole a glance at the other’s lip before a moment of silence. Suddenly, your lips connected. She was firmly gripping your waist while one of your hands found itself in her hair as the other held the back of her neck.
“I fucking hate you,” you mumbled breathless against her lips. She pushed you up against the cabin door; Gods, you didn’t even care that you were still outside and anybody could just walk by.
“I fucking hate you too.” Her kissing was hungry, passionate. Blood was rushing through veins, your cheeks were warm, and butterflies had erupted in your stomach. You could feel Clarisse feeling for the door's handle for a few seconds before you reached behind you to turn it.
You both went inside, Clarisse kicking the door shut. You could feel her warm touch as her hand grazed the skin of your lower back. She walked you backwards toward her bed, never daring to pull away. 
“Fuck, I love you,” you let out as Clarisse moved down to your neck.
“I love you too, don’t you forget it,” she murmurs against you. 
Clarisse La Rue may have been narcissistic, stubborn, hot-headed, and pretentious, but you were your mother’s daughter, so maybe you could fix her.
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A/N: she could abuse me, beat the dog-shit outta me, cheat on me, hit me with her car
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FOLIE Á DEUX ─── jonathan crane ✧
ೃ⁀➷ “Not all love is gentle. Sometimes it's gritty and dirty and possessive, sometimes it's not supposed to be careful or soft at all. Sometimes it feels like teeth.” - Azra T.
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pairing. professor!jonathan crane x stalker!reader
summary. you’ve been stalking your professor for 8 months, keeping track of his movements with your diary. one day, said professor informs that you left something of yours behind in his office…
warnings. swearing, choking, p in v, dacryphilia, oral sex (f), dubcon (if u squint), stalking, breeding, orgasm delay/denial, unprotected sex, hair pulling, student-teacher relationship, SMUT UNDER THE CUT
word count. 4.5k
a/n. this is my first ever smut, so if it sucks i really do apologize. also, im kinda unsure where the plot on this one went, but whatever! lastly, i do try to keep all my fics gender-neutral, but seeing as this is smut, i had to choose, and the reader is afab.
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“Miss [Name], please stay behind after class. I need just a moment's worth of your time.” Your professor said absently, not looking at you, when he handed back your essay on the human id.
You hummed, nodding your head carefully. “Yes, Professor Crane.” 
Inwardly, you swooned at his choice of words: “I need just a moment's worth of your time.” He’d highlighted the existence of both you and him in the sentence, as if coexisting together, with one another, was plausible.
Later, when class ended, you’d packed up all your things, and walked into Professor Crane’s office off to the side, where he was tidying up. 
“You asked me to stay behind, sir?” 
“Yes,” Crane acknowledged your presence, looking at you squarely. “You forgot something in my office during our last tutoring session.” 
Your eyes widened slightly, both at the fact you’d left one of your items behind, and that your Professor had seen the item, and knew it belonged to you. He hadn’t mistaken it as his own, or anyone else's - he knew it was yours.
“Oh!” You said, a beat later. “Thank you for telling me. Where is it, exactly?”
“Before we get to that matter - do take a seat - I believe we need to have a, ah, talk.” He gestured to the seat in front of his office desk, the same seat you sat on every Wednesday at 6:30 for the past few months. 
“A talk, sir?” You pried, but sat down anyway, reveling in the one-on-one time you were experiencing with your favorite professor. 
That was the main motivator for getting tutored by the man - you adored going in, having an entire hour of him all to yourself. 
Prior, you pretended not to get some of his lessons, let your grade in his psychology class slip to a pitiful mark so low he couldn’t ignore it. You’d started the semester with a stellar grade, so he took it upon himself to offer tutoring - he knew you could understand his method of teaching, and theorized that you hadn’t been able to pay attention in class because of the sheer size of people attending. 
In actuality, however, you understood everything completely - it was merely your obsessive attraction following him like the sound of thunder trailing behind lightning. 
Crane scrubbed his face when you sat, thinking intently on what he wanted to say. “I need you to understand, Miss [Name], that a student-teacher relationship is completely taboo. Such a thing can never - should never, occur.”
Your breath hitched in your throat, and suddenly, you were reminded how you hadn’t seen that book in a while, you hadn’t read it when you woke up, when you went for lunch, you hadn’t even written anything about him for the day—
Your professor slid open one of his desk drawers, and pulled out the familiar pocket notebook you kept with yourself at all times. 
“I’m telling you about rules, Miss [Name], because you forgot this.” He said, voice low. “And, pardon my intrusion, but the stuff you have written here is quite… intriguing.”
Your heart began racing in your chest, a cold sweat trailing down your back. “Professor, I- whatever you read in there—“ You began, but froze when he opened the notebook, thumbing through the pages. 
Crane cleared his throat, looking intently at the words. His expression changed several times as his eyes flitted over your writing, and you felt your body burn with shame. 
“January 26th. Professor's gloves were found in the nook of his podium. I was looking for the green apple he’d forgo from finishing, his teeth tracks fresh on the alabaster flesh, but found his winter wear instead. Gloves were brought home - I imagined he’d come over to mine, undressed his biting winter clothing, and forgot his sweet mittens here.” Your professor read your diary out loud. Crane looked like he enjoyed your shame being laid out bare, but you were too absorbed in a whirlwind of emotion to notice. 
“P—Professor, please, I - I can explain, I didn’t mean anything—“
“April 17th. Professor came down with a flu, like I expected. I saw him walking in last week’s evening downpour and waited for what day this week he’d call in. Later, he bought cough syrup and aspirin at the convenience store. I watched him struggle to care for himself, covered head to toe in blankets, missing meals, barely able to keep upright. I wish professor knew how well I could care for him, how I fulfill his every request and need. I saw how touchy he was, how he fidgeted, that feverish want — I could satiate him like no-one else.” 
His lips enunciated every word, and the longer he went on reading, the dizzier you felt; your professor, your darling, had found out - he had found out - he had found fucking out -
“Be honest with me, Miss [Name]. Do you stalk me?” Your professor said, slipping off his wire-framed glasses. The man leaned in closer now, elbows resting on the wooden desk. 
Your eyes darted away from him, looking anywhere but forwards. You felt like you had been stripped away, so bare your professor could count how many ribs you had, how many minor hairline fractures your tattered bones had collected over the years. You tried to analyze the man’s reaction through your peripheral, but it was to no avail - he was as cold as he had been during class, during your entire time knowing the professor. 
You breathed, in and out, analyzing the situation tenfold, precisely, trying to find a way out of this place alive, dignity intact. Then, you found it. 
This man had ensnared you, entranced you with his delicious charm and carefully spoken words. You repeat inwardly to yourself: Crane knew all the right words, all the right places to touch. If he dared press charges, you would tell the world he hurt you first. 
“Yes, Professor Crane.” You nodded, unabashed after deciding how to deal with everything. He can’t touch me with this. I’ll just go first: please, he took advantage of me! I needed to pass his class… and he offered a solution to me. He’s lying! Lying to you all. He just wants to destroy me… and hide his sin.
“The human body knows when someone’s watching them, but you haven’t noticed, not once in the 8 months I’ve watched you. You didn’t notice, even when I followed you home, even to Arkham. Every obscure outing you’ve had, I’ve been there.”
“I’m quite alarmed by this information, Miss [Name]. Moreso by the absence of your remorse.” Crane said, but mere seconds later a low laugh was drawn out of him, looking more amused than alarmed if anything. 
Crane’s tone was husky, nearing a purr, and he clasped his large, calloused hands together contemplatively. “What were you going to do to me, Miss [Name]? Or were you just going to watch, standby my life?”
You chewed the inside of your cheek, unable to respond to his provocations. You didn’t want to alarm him further, tell him you’d been planning to finally have him, once and for all, as soon as you got a hold of his house keys and got the chance to replicate your own pair. You didn’t tell him that you were barely restraining yourself from knocking him out during your tutoring sessions, wanting your darling all for yourself for more than an hour a week. 
“Are you not afraid, Miss [Name]? What I can do to your life with this information? How I can ruin you, paint you mad enough to be admitted to Arkham?” he continued, closer than ever before and whispering in your ear. His plush lips brushed past the shell of your ear, making your heart skip a beat. 
You winced, both from the feeling of him near you and his sweet voice spewing poison in your ear, but quickly composed yourself, for you knew things he didn’t know you knew. 
Then - you weren’t quite sure what possessed you, but - your hand came up to his hair, tugging so he could hear you, “Professor - or, should I say… Scarecrow, what would you do, if I told the police what Gotham University’s psychology professor did in his spare time?” 
“What would you do, if I plastered pictures of the renowned Doctor Jonathan Crane wearing the familiar burlap sack mask all over Gotham - especially in places the Batman frequented?”
“I can destroy you, sir.” Your voice was quiet, but dangerous, a terribly alluring thing, like a melody Crane heard a long time ago and remembered every time he smelt the must of an old piano. “Don’t push me.”
This time, Crane stilled, turning to face you fully. His gaze had darkened, looking at you through his long lashes. “My dear, you should’ve just told me how bad you wanted to find out how this fear-toxin of mine can break you.” He whispered, so quiet you had to strain yourself to hear. 
With your professor's warm breath fanning on the nape of your neck, you couldn’t help how you squirmed, clenched your thighs together - especially when you had been dreaming of something like this for the past eight months. You couldn’t count how many times you found yourself with your hands down your pants at the thought of your darling professor having his way with you… controlling you completely. 
You didn’t answer the man for a moment, gulping down the dryness in your throat. “Would you, sir? Would you let fear dominate me like those tortured souls in the Narrows?”
Crane’s eyes trailed across your face, then he pulled back, leaning in his chair, a grin all teeth and no tongue spreading across his lips. There was something there, you realized, something he noticed in the intone of your voice - had he noticed the neediness, the warble as your thoughts went elsewhere? The arch in your back, your body desperate to be as close to him as possible?
“Can I tell you what I think?” said Crane, rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt. “I think you want me to. I think you want me to see you tremble… shake in fear… you want me to hear you beg. I think you want to be utterly consumed by me.” 
The deep timbre of his voice, the suggestion in his words, how he stared you down with each syllable, sent electric shivers down your spine. You took in a sharp breath, leaning your head back to look at the ceiling, compose yourself, when—
Crane’s rough hand gripped at your throat, thumb caressing the little notch at the center, and your heart fluttered, jumping at his touch. 
“Fear is an addicting, beautiful thing, is it not? You’re afraid of me, but you can’t help how fucking needy you are.” Your professor spoke, pressing down further on your neck. He had noticed. 
His touch made your skin feel like it was on fire, the rough pads of his fingertips digging bruises into your delicate skin. It was the most delicious thing you had ever felt, and you leaned into it, despite the connotations of death by asphyxiation looming over your shoulder. 
Your professor manhandled you, dragging your weak body over to his side of the desk, hand still curved neatly around your throat. You were growing dizzy, a fearful, pleasure-filled fog slowly clouding your mind, and you couldn’t speak. All you could do was let out little squeaks of surprise & pleasure, a moan rumbling out of you as he pressed down further. 
Crane was saying something, but you couldn’t tell under the pressure. His facial expression was all you needed, however; his eyes were bloodshot, lustful, so laser-focused that, if looks could kill, you’d have been long gone, while a feral grin replaced his emotionless facade. Crane’s usually well-kept appearance had dissolved, and his hair was askew, tie loose, buttons haphazardly undone. 
Suddenly, the man pressed himself flush against you, pressing his face into your hair, your neck - losing himself in you. His tongue flicked out, dragging a long stripe down the side of your neck, and you jumped, a startled whine tearing out of your choked-up throat. 
His grip on you tightened. “What? I’m just having a taste. Is that so wrong?” At your wide eyes, and silent response, he let out a fitful laugh. “You’re coated in shame, darling. You’re sour.”
You squirmed - not because you didn’t enjoy it - you just couldn’t breathe, but Crane didn’t care. His fingernails were sharp, maybe even drawing some of your blood.
“Plea— sir, I can’t breathe,” you stuttered out raspily. His face remained unchanged while listening to your pathetic pleas, before he leaned in close. 
“Beg for it. Beg like you’re terrified for your life. You might as well be,” he said, and he began pressing his thumb into the center of your throat, choking you fully now. 
You nodded - as much as the allowance between his hand and your head allowed, anyway. “Professor, please,” you said breathily, “please let me go. I’ll do any- anything, just puh— please stop.” 
“Ah, there it is,” Your professor cooed, eyes shutting at the sweet intone of your pleaing, distressed voice. He was losing himself in your words. “Keep going… and don’t forget the crying. It's my favorite part.”
“Let - me go! Please,” you whimpered helplessly, mustering thick, heavy tears to form at the corners of your eyes as you saw black spots dotting your vision. 
A lump formed in your throat, choking your words. “Please… stop! Let me - breathe,” You said, leaning delightedly into his touch. His other hand was now digging painfully into your hip, as if the professor were focussing intensely on holding back. 
“Look at you go,” Crane clicked his tongue, eyes opening and gazing deep into you. He pulled you in closer to him, letting go of your abused throat. 
You finally breathed, taking in such large bouts of air you might’ve choked and keeled over right there. But then, Crane’s hands at your side crawed carefully to your rear, while the other hand came up to the crown of your head to pet you. 
He whispered into the top of your head, “Did you mean it?” 
“Mean what?” You said raspily, your face pressed flat against his bandy chest. 
His hand found the swell of your ass, fingers grabbing hold and squeezing so tight you were sure there’d be a bruise later, “About doing anything. For me.”
You nodded, still not looking at him. This answer didn’t please him, however, and the hand that had been petting you tangled through your hair and roughly pulled you away, to look up at him. “In words.”
“Y— yes. I’ll do anything for you.” You rattled off, prickling pain twisting in your scalp. 
“You’ll be a good girl for me?”
“The best.” 
A grin twisted his pink, plush lips, and he promptly pushed you face down flat against his cold, wooden desk. It was rough, and sudden, pain blooming in your side. But there was a tug in your lower stomach at the way he handled you, all selfish and touchy and focused solely on chasing after his own pleasure. 
Crane’s hands roamed all over your body, leaving trails of fire in their wake. His touch was insatiable, rubbing and petting and kneading at every part of your body. 
His hands found your thighs, squeezing at the flesh, before hiking up your skirt and inspecting your panties. “Oh, you’re fucking soaked,” Crane rumbled out, voice like gravel. “You liked it, didn’t you? When I said I’d admit you to Arkham.”
Then, you heard him kneel down, and begin to press sloppy, wet kisses on your legs. “Be honest,” he said between kisses, “you want me to admit you, have you all to myself in isolation.”
You didn’t respond, instead whimpering and bucking forward when you could feel Crane’s sharp teeth brush over your sensitive skin. He noticed the effect he had on you, and you felt him smile against you. 
“Please,” you keened out, not dissimilar to how you begged him just moments ago, “stop teasing, Professor.”
You felt Crane’s hot breath fan over your clothed mound, pausing for a moment to catch his breath. “Stop teasing, how?” he said at last, before suddenly pushing your panties to the side and licking a stripe up your cunt. He lapped at your lips, collecting your wetness on his tongue, but he didn’t go further. 
“Pro - Professor,” you whined, grounding out a low moan. It wasn’t enough, and he knew it. He liked playing with you, making you squirm and shake and beg for more.
“What? This not enough for you?” He pulled away, and you hissed at the cold that hit you. Then, he tugged, hard, pulling both your underwear and your skirt down to your knees. 
“You want me to eat you out till you’re a trembling fucking mess, don’t you?” He buried himself between your legs, “I knew you were a horny little slut.”
Finally, his tongue found you once more, and pushed deep into your folds. Crane’s tongue ran across every rivet your pussy had, before darting out to your clit, suckling at the velvet bundle of nerves. His touch drew out a high-pitched keen, your back arching. 
You couldn’t see him, face still pressed against the wooden desk, but you could hear him, the filthy squelching of your pussy and his tongue making your knees buckle. 
“Fuck, Jonathan,” you choked out, when he went deeper into your quivering hole, your body tingling like nothing you’d ever felt before. At your reaction, his name curling around your pretty little lips, he went faster, wet mouth brushing against you, licking you up and down, animalistic, following his instinct to a tee.
“Please, wait -“ You said, feeling the knot in your insides grow tighter, the heat washing over you like a steaming shower, toes curling in your flats. 
“What?” He growled out beneath you, not letting up his assault on your cunt. 
“I don’t - don’t wanna come on your tongue…” You said, shaking your head weakly against the desk. “Wanna - wanna feel you in me.”
Jonathan snorted, and continued to lap up your insides, “D’you think you have a fucking choice? Huh? I know you’re a whore, you could do this all day. I’ll just make you come again on my cock.”
Before you could protest, or even just whine at his words, you shut your eyes, feeling yourself come undone, your legs barely able to keep you upright. His hands had reached away from your thighs, rough fingers toying with your fleshy button, maximizing the climax washing over you tenfold. 
“Jonathan, Jonathan!” You practically screamed out, heat in your stomach pulsing rapidly. 
“Ugh, fuck,” You heard him say, “you’re creaming all over my fucking face.” 
You were a complete mess by the time he pulled away from you, your high washing away as Crane wiped the come and wetness off his face. 
“You came that hard, just on my tongue?” He mocked, fingers spreading your lips and observing your swollen pussy as you laid flat, weakly gripping the edge of the desk so you’d stay standing. 
“Well,” he said, reaching down to his pants and undoing his belt buckle and fly, “M’not done with this sweet little cunt just yet.”
Your eyes widened, “I’m - I’m still sensitive, wait-“
Jonathan didn’t listen, however, letting his pants and boxers pool at his feet, stroking himself in the artificial light of his office, which smelt like sweat and sex. 
He spat on his hand, first coating his cock in it, then your parted lips (which you theorized was just because he wanted to feel you up again), before lining up his thick head at your entrance. “God,” he groaned, “you’re so fucking wet.”
You keened at the intrusion you felt between your legs, “Jonathan, please, jus’ - give me a sec to rest —“ You were interrupted however, by the shock of how big he felt. 
You hadn’t gotten a look at him, but as he let himself slowly enter you, you could tell it was bigger than anything you’d ever taken before. “You’re - you’re too big!” you squeaked out, “You won’t fit.”
He laughed, hands resting on your hips as he held you upright. “I’ll make it fit,” he said, before roughly pounding the rest of himself into you, stretching out your inexperienced cunt. 
You choked, his fat cock pushing you wider than you’d ever been before, the pain biting at you, a burning feeling spreading within your lower body. “Jon- Jonathan,” was all you could say, as he slowly pulled out, pure relief written on your face, until he sank right back into you, somehow deeper than before. 
Tears welled in your eyes, as he gripped harshly on the flesh of your hips, making you pound back and forth on him. His cock was hard, and thick, and he was forcing the thing deep within you at an excruciatingly quick pace. Your sensitivity was the cherry on top to this whole situation - you were trembling, body weak, shallow breaths and teary moans tearing out of you at the overstimulation.
Soon, however, the pain slowly dissolved into a filthy, exquisite pleasure that echoed throughout your entire body. The rhythm your professor had gotten to was downright perfect, filling you completely and making you clench in all the right places. Crane made your brain go foggy, focussing solely on the sound of your skin slapping against each other in the quiet, after-hours office, his taller frame encapsulating you completely.
“Fuck, you’re tight,” he cooed, hands moving to splay across your ass and spread you open further. “How many cocks have taken this sweet pussy, huh?”
You gulped. “Just,” you started, but then your eyes rolled to the back of your head, stopping you mid-sentence as his length brushed up to your most sensitive spot.
“How,” he gripped you tighter, “many,” slipped out, “cocks!”  then thrust into you roughly, rougher than before and making the desk screech forward a few inches.
“Just one!” You said at last, words choked up as his long cock pierced you. 
“Just one, huh?” He said and began pounding in and out of you faster, rougher, needier, “I bet you didn’t even fucking come, you’re so tight. This pretty pussy of yours is practically virgin.”
“Uh-huh,” you said incoherently, thoughts blending together. “Jus’ a - a fucking virgin for you,” you babbled out, losing yourself in the fast-paced pleasure he was serving on a silver platter. 
“That you are,” Jonathan growled, “you’re just my horny virgin. Mine.” Every thrust he plunged into you brushed up against that plush spot deep within you, making you drool, body going slack. 
“Oh, jesus, you’re so fucked out,” he murmured, looking down at your limp, trembling form. “Drunk on my thick fucking cock.”
The ecstasy was becoming too much for you now, controlling you completely, like if he stopped fucking you right now you’d be so fucking needy, going slowly insane until he touched you again. You knew you wouldn’t be able to fuck anyone else and feel the same; he made you feel fucking feral, instinctual, your id going into drive and controlling you instead of logic. Your darling was the only one you wanted to offer yourself up completely to. He could do anything he fucking wanted to you, and you’d take it in stride. 
“Jonathan,” you keened, feeling your walls clench around him tighter, “m’close.”
“No, you’re not,” he said, voice deep and dangerous, “keep that orgasm in, whore, till I tell you to.”
Your cheeks burned, distraught at the denial of your release, especially when his cock slipped out of you as he flipped you over. Quickly, however, he rammed his cock back into you. You were facing each other now, and you could see how hot and bothered he looked, despite how confident and careless his words had been as he fucked you.
His lips were bitten between his teeth, hair sticking to the sweat on his face, cheeks flushed. He was focussed entirely on getting back that rhythm, and you let him, watching how his gorgeous features contorted as your hot cunt sucked him in. 
Your arms reached around his neck, and he promptly lifted your legs up to hook around his back, making him fill you even further. 
“Fuck me!” You squealed, his shaft reaching places you didn’t know could be reached. It was getting harder to stop your impending orgasm, and your felt fucking sick at how sweetly he was stretching you, how you knew you couldn’t let go no matter what despite the delicious pleasure. 
“Already am, baby,” he grumbled, rutting in and out of you at a dizzying pace. You felt his pace stutter, slightly, and you heard his small, revealing whines of pleasure as his head was nestled in the nook of your neck, and you knew he was close. 
The thought of him coming in you made you tighten and tense, and he felt it, your back lifting off the desk in an arch. 
“Fuck, how’d you get even tighter?” he said shakily, before sliding out of you so far he almost pulled out completely, then let his cock thrust into you so hard you saw stars dancing across your vision.
You merely mewled back at him in response. 
“Come,” he said breathily, “come all over my thick— ugh, fuuuck, just like that, yes,” his sentence was cut off as you let go, letting the waves of pleasure surge through your body like electricity. 
Your body shook, your knees trembled, and an animalistic whine slipped out of your bruise throat as he thrust into you jerkily. Just as quickly as you camez, he did too, and you felt Jonathan’s load shoot straight up into your worn-out cunt, not impeded by a condom of any sorts. Crane’s head cocked back as he did so, jaw clenching as he released his sweet and sticky liquid deep within you, warm and coating your walls completely.
For a moment, he laid atop of you, and you both kept silent, the office filled with nothing but your breathing and the sweet smell of come. Then, he pulled away, both of you wincing as his cock left you, his come dripping out of your weeping hole onto his office floors. 
He pulled his underwear and pants back on, but revelled in your own crumpled form on his desk, your shirt hiked up, your skirt and panties hanging off your ankles, barely there. It was a shame he couldn’t have explored further up your body, groped those tits he loved seeing bounce during tutoring, but his need to fill your pussy up took precedent.
Jonathan swiped a finger into your cunt, collecting some of your combined liquid, and you flinched at the feeling. Then, he licked at his dirty finger. “Oh, baby,” he heaved, “we taste delectable mixed together.” 
You raised a brow, then weakly lifted yourself off the desk, pulling up your panties and skirt (not without adoring the feeling of Jonathan’s fresh, wet come smearing all over your panties and sensitive cunt) before reaching for his hand. He leaned in towards you, and you lapped up the juice on his finger, grinning up at him.
Jonathan looked completely lost in your performance, brows knitted. “Jesus fucking christ,” he whispered under his breath, “where has a perfect little fucktoy like you been hiding from me?”
“Oh,” you said, nonchalant, “just stalking you.” 
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lovelybluebirdie · 3 months
Text
The pale chef
Astarion x f!Reader
Summary: Astarion attempts to cook for you, but things don’t go as planned.
Word Count: 1,7k
A/N: I got the idea that Astarion naturally struggles with preparing food, so I had to write some fluff about it! Hope you enjoy :)
[ AO3 ]
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Astarion stirred the pot in concentration, holding a wooden spoon in his hand and wondering what exactly he was doing here. 
This whole endeavour resulted from your constant need to be nice to him, he thought with a sigh – apparently it made him want to be nice as well. 
It started the other day when you mentioned how you would kill for a mushroom soup. At first he thought nothing of it, but for some reason the idea stuck to his head, so Astarion decided to roam the forest and gather some mushrooms. Unfortunately it turned out rather quickly that he lacked essential knowledge on the matter, so he had to consult Gale of all people. 
Putting his pride aside, he asked through gritted teeth which ones were edible and which to avoid, since he had no desire to poison you by accident. Due to Gale being Gale, the wizard not only lectured him on different kinds of fungi, he had also given a detailed instruction on the soup’s recipe.
Astarion chuckled at the absurdity of the scene. He had never thought that one day he'd voluntarily prepare food for another person – and yet he found himself bending over the hearth and mixing different ingredients, hoping for the best.
He even wore an apron borrowed from said wizard, therefore he was more than glad that his companions had left for a supply run, while you were waiting in your shared tent so he could attempt this little surprise in solitude.
Gale's voice echoed in his mind: Chop the mushrooms, add them to the broth, stir until thickened, season with salt and pepper and sprinkle a few herbs on top – that’s it! Absolutely foolproof, even for someone who prefers to appease their hunger solely with blood.
The mushrooms had been the easiest part. His dexterous fingers cut them into perfectly bite-sized pieces, but Astarion bloody forgot how long the meal should rest on the fire.
Suddenly a burning smell lingered in the air, and he sensed in horror that the soup was boiling over.
“Fuck!” He grabbed the pot with haste and put it away from the heat.
Well, he thought as he gazed at the bubbling mass, that probably meant it was done.
With utmost care not to spill more of his precious loot, he grabbed a ladle and filled a large portion for you. If he already took the effort for such a novelty, you should at least get your belly full.
Astarion slipped out of the apron and made his way back to you. He assumed you were already growing impatient, as this entire affair had consumed far more time than he had anticipated.
“Hello, darling,” he purred when entering your tent, skilfully balancing the bowl in his hand. 
“Finally! I thought you'd kept me waiting all night – wait, what's that?” You put the book you were reading aside and eyed the dish in his hands.
“I’m not quite sure myself, but according to Gale's recipe it should resemble a mushroom soup.”
Your eyes lit up. “Hold on – you prepared this for me? You know that’s my favourite, right?”
“I suppose I do.” Astarion offered you the soup with a coy smile. “Although you should remember that I’m not particularly versed in the culinary arts, so it might be best to treat this with caution.”
You took the bowl from his slender fingers. “Hah, let me be the judge of that! Besides, it was about damn time you returned the favour of feeding me for once, hm?”
“I couldn’t try it myself for obvious reasons, but I doubt that this could compete with your delicious blood,” Astarion replied jokingly and sat next to you, curiously watching as you sniffed the soup.
“Smells not bad…” you affirmed while blowing on the steaming broth resting on your spoon. “Now comes the delicate part – the taste test.”
The spoon disappeared in your mouth, and suddenly your face twisted into a grimace. You swallowed hard, a cough forcing its way through your pressed lips.
Astarion couldn’t help but snort over your clumsy attempt to keep the soup inside. “So – I sense I failed you miserably?”
“What? No – I mean, it’s not… terrible,” you stuttered. “It’s… Well – did you let it burn by chance?”
“Maybe.” He dragged out the syllables dramatically and shrugged. “Be honest, my dead heart surely can take it – shall we save this mess for Scratch and the owlbear?”
“Of course not!” you exclaimed with widened eyes. “I’m not hesitant to share, but not something you specially made for me. Also, some things tend to get better once you get used to the flavour, you know.” 
Before Astarion could intervene, you put another spoon to your mouth and eagerly gulped it down, followed by a second and a third. 
“There’s certainly room for improvement,” you eventually muttered with full cheeks, “but it’s not that bad.”
“I’m afraid you’re a poor liar, my love.” Astarion gently grasped your wrist to prevent you from taking another mouthful. “So please let me stop you right there, before you seriously upset your gut. I’m sure we can get you something more nutritious for the evening.” Then he took the spoon from your hand and put the bowl aside.
“If you insist,” you said with fondness in your eyes while wiping soup from the corner of your mouth. “But honestly – thank you, Astarion. This was… unexpectedly sweet.”
Heat rose to his ears as he rested his hand on your stomach, starting to draw circles. “Well, let's just hope my failed culinary attempt won't kill you tonight.”
“I guess in that case Lae’zel would avenge me, so you’d better start preparing yourself.”
“Mh… You think she’d stake me?” Astarion questioned and continued to caress your belly.
“Who knows what her creativity will lead to in the end. Knowing Lae’zel, she’d probably come up with something worse,” you pondered while tapping your chin. “But I guess you wouldn't let your preferred blood supply die that easily after all, would you?”
“Oh, don't sell yourself so short,” Astarion countered in feigned bewilderment. “You know that you mean way more to me than that.”
“Is that so?”
“Well, you also keep me warm at night, sparing me the coin for a thicker blanket. You know how expensive those things can get.”
You playfully raised an eyebrow, clearly not satisfied with his response. “And if you had to give a genuine answer this time?”
Astarion clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes. “I thought my sentiments were rather obvious by now.”
“And yet I don't seem to tire of hearing your appreciation for me,” you teased.
“Getting greedy now, aren’t we? Fine, you're ... quite decent. Despite your constant need to do something heroic, of course.”
You poked his shoulder and turned away with an exaggerated pout.
Astarion chuckled, before he cleared his throat. “Alright – perhaps you’re more than that.” 
He drew you in his arms and breathed against your cheek. “One might also say you're the first person I truly came to care about. Deeply.”
Your lips brushed over his contours, searching for his own until you kissed him tenderly. “See? Wasn’t that hard, was it?”
Astarion rested a peck on your forehead and embraced you closer, a pleasant flutter spreading in his chest. 
You were right, he thought as his lips curled into an affectionate smile – with you, everything seemed surprisingly easy these days.
*
The next morning Astarion woke to a rumbling. He opened his eyes and could only make out your silhouette as you hastily rushed outside, leaving the flap of your tent wide open.
“Love, are you alright?” he asked in concern and immediately got up to follow you.
“Don't worry, I’m fine,” you huffed under your breath.
Astarion knelt beside you in the grass and frowned. “Are you sure?”
“I said… it’s alright…” You gagged between your words. “But perhaps the soup… Ugh–”
“Don’t be stubborn,” Astarion said softly, when he noticed that you were still wearing his shirt from the other night. “And for the love of the gods – please be careful not to stain my clothes.”
“That's what you’re most concerned about right now?”
“No, of course not! But – That’s my favourite,” Astarion mumbled while he reached for your hair, smoothing it back over your shoulders.
“FANGS, what did you do to her?!” Karlach’s voice erupted like a thunderstorm from the other side of the camp as she spotted the two of you.
“Nothing – I only prepared some soup for her last night!”
“Shadowheart! Hurry up, we need you – Astarion poisoned our leader!” Karlach was already marching in the cleric's direction.
“What – no!” You both spoke almost simultaneously, causing you to laugh.
“I seem to have a sensible stomach,” you managed to add before retching again.
Astarion turned serious as he rested his hand on your back. “I'm terribly sorry, my love. That wasn’t meant to happen at all.”
You offered a weak smirk. “I know, and I appreciate the thought. Besides, that means your next dish can only improve.”
Astarion gazed at you in disbelief. “You’d consider letting me cook again after this entire debacle? Those mushrooms must have gone to your beautiful head.”
“Well, on second thought–” You couldn't finish your sentence as your stomach’s content finally emptied onto the grass.
Astarion felt a twist at his ribcage seeing you like this. “We’d better make sure I haven’t actually poisoned you, shall we? – SHADOWHEART! Get yourself over here – now!” 
“I'M ON MY WAY!” Shadowheart shouted from afar.
“I think the worst is already over–” you began to explain, when another voice cut you off.
“Tsk’va! What is going on?” Lae’zel poked her head from her tent, obviously annoyed by the sudden tumult.
“Please, don’t let her stake me,” Astarion whispered and continued to stroke your back.
“Be glad that I love you, otherwise I’d probably let her get away with it this time,” you replied mischievously.
Astarion’s chest filled with warmth as he grasped for your hand. “My sweet, I truly am.” Then he bowed his head to place a kiss on your hair. “And I love you too. So much in fact, that I might consider forgiving you for ruining my shirt.”
You squeezed his hand and grinned. “Prick.”
Astarion returned your grin before his expression turned soft. “But honestly, I promise I’ll make this up to you.”
Next time he would surprise you with something less nauseating, he thought as his fingers entwined with yours – a safe choice like bringing another stray to your camp, or a nice perfume perhaps.
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astronomysturniolos · 3 months
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chris sturniolo x book lover gf-reader!!
admiration in silence
summary: chris loves you, and your reading habits, but what happens when you can’t concentrate anymore because he can’t contain himself from distracting u? (fluff)
warnings: none
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as the sun sets, it gets darker in my room, the only light source are my fairy lights draped over my white walls. the sunset casts a perfect, yellow cast on chris’s face, as he scrolls mindlessly on his phone, laying facing me. i’m sitting up, reading the new book he bought me. he loves buying me books, or really anything. he thinks it’s “mad cute” that i read, and he’s so entertained by it he keeps buying me more to the point that it’s almost covered my whole book shelve. his love language is definitely buying me things. at first i hated it, but i’ve grown to love it now that we’ve been dating for around 8 months.
i’m so engulfed with my book, i don’t even notice that the random sounds from his phone had suddenly stopped until i feel his hand start to gently caress my arm, causing me to shiver.
“what are you doing, chris?” i say kind of in an annoyed tone, which is totally fake because i can never be annoyed at him. “nothing ma, just keep reading” he says not connecting eye contact with me, instead focused on my arm, which is now coated in goosebumps.
i try to focus on my book, but i keep losing my spot, too focused on his touch. “chrisss.” i say, dragging the s out. “what baby?” he asks, lightly chuckling. “you’re distracting me.” “i don’t care.” he says still not lifting his gaze and hand away from my arm.
after a while i begin to get into my book, until i hear the snap of a camera. my head quickly turns to him. “CHRIS.” i yell, laughing slightly. “i’m sorry you just look too cute, ma” he says smiling at the picture on his phone.
i put my bookmark into my page, and drop it onto my nightstand. laying facing him as he sets his phone down on the bed and finally looks at me. his goofy smile widening and i smile too, a blush creeping on my face. i dig my head into his chest as he kisses the top of my head, and brushes his fingers through my hair. “i love your hair.” he states “i love everything about you actually, is that weird?” he asks, but it’s not really a question because he doesn’t really care. “well then call me a wierdo because i love everything about you too” i say, slightly muffled, considering my face is still in his chest, and his hands are still in my hair. he laughs, and then it goes quiet for a minute. a comfortable silence actually. then he whispers “i love you baby. so much.” if i thought i couldn’t fall in love even more with him, i was lying. “i love u to chris.” i say tiredly. we stay in that position, laying with each other, until we fall asleep, intertwined like we were made for each other.
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anna speaks: this would be so me coded if he gave me one chance🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻i lowkey hate this, bc i kinda rushed but anyways hope yall liked this🤗🤗feedback is very appreciated!!
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txtgkk · 4 months
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Muscle Memory
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Synopsis: things get a bit heated while you’re reading to Nanami as you guys are cuddled up in bed.
Warning: nsfw, 18+, fluff, smut, fem!reader, overstimulation, creampie, masturbation (fem!receiving)
A/N: Got this Idea at 4am while I was reading poetry…don’t judge me! Anyways I hope you guys enjoy! 😭✌🏽
Also! I’m so sorry for the lag & errors I literally NEVER proofread what I post cuz I’m tired and idc that much but yeah 😭 & I totally forgot I was writing this. 😜
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Nanami was always very tired and grumpy all because of his job. He hated it, he didn’t really enjoy anything in life but one thing that never failed to bring him comfort was when you guys would cuddle up in bed at night and he would listen as you read him one of your many poetry books. It was something that started randomly then developed into a routine but, tonight was different.
Nanami got home from work more frustrated that usual, he set his things on the entrance table and put his shoes against neatly against the wall. He walked straight to the bathroom and got into the shower without looking your way or saying anything. When he finished showering he walked over to his side of the closet and put on boxers and pajamas pants.
“Rough day?” You asked.
“Mhm.” He responded and let out a long sigh. He climbed into bed and pulled you close burying his face into the crook of your neck breathing in your scent.
“Do you want a massage or something?” You ask and he shook his head.
“No, can you just read to me like you usually do?” He asked and you nodded.
You picked up the book you were currently reading and began to recite the poems to him, Nanami felt himself relax as he held you close. It was only then that he realized what you were wearing, you were wearing his favorite nightgown. He loved the way it looked on you and how the baby blue color made your skin look so nice, he also loved how it showed off your curves and would ride up when you sat down.
You could hear as he groaned, he pulled away and rested his head on his arm as he laid next to you. Your body shivered when you felt his hand on your thigh, at first he was just running the tips of his fingers against it but then he began to squeeze it.
Namani didn’t know whether it was your tone or the way you were dressed but it was arousing him. His hand slowly inched closer and closer to the end of your skirt, “I love the way you read.” He said in a low tone.
“Thank you.” You smiled and continued.
His moved his hand down so it was now in-between your things, you immediately felt your body heat up and your clit began to ache.
“Your voice is so soothing.” He groaned and you could feel his fingers graze your panties.
“T-thank you…you’re too kind.” You stutter.
As you continue reading it becomes harder for you to concentrate now that all your mind is focused on is satisfying the aching feeling in-between your thighs.
Suddenly Nanami cups your cunt with his hand never once looking away from your face, you moan as goosebumps cover your body which causes him to chuckle. He loves the way your body reacts to his touch and he loves how you squeeze your thighs together.
“You’re already so wet just from my touch.” He smirks causing you to swallow hard.
You had completely forgotten about the fact that you were reading and you pressed yourself against his large hand moaning at the feeling.
“Nanami please.” You whine but he ignored you.
“Keep reading love.” He demands and you pick up the book trying to continue reading.
Once he hears you reading he slides his hand up your dress and into your panties, he then begins to massage your clit causing you to yelp. He moves his fingers in a painfully slow circular motion, your body shivers as you try to keep your composure. He picks up the speed causing you to moan, your mind becomes foggy and the once simple words on the page in front of you become more difficult to read than ever.
“Don’t stop reading.” He orders.
“Nanami I c-can’t.” You moan.
“Then I guess I should stop.” He says and your eyes widened when he suddenly stopped, the high you were chasing disappears, you quickly pick up the book.
“I-I’ll read!” You cry out and he smirks as he continues to rub your clit.
This painful torture continues until you feel and orgasm wash over you, every muscle in your body tenses as you cry out till you cum. Your chest heaves as you come down from your high, you suddenly gasp when he slips two of his large fingers into your cunt.
You clenched around hit fingers causing him to groan. He began to slowly thrust his fingers into you before picking up the pace, you moaned every time he curled his fingers inside you as he laid right by your side with a smug smirk on his face enjoying the sounds you made.
Nanami thrusted his fingers into you and curled them slightly causing your eyes to roll to the back of your head and your back to arch. Your cries filled the room and you dropped the book, “fuck, fuck, fuckkkk!” You cried as he hit you g-spot.
“It’s like fuckin’ muscle memory princess.” He chuckled softly.
Nanami suddenly sat up and moved over to your thighs as he sat on his knees, he continued to thrust his fingers into you and watch as they slip in and out of your soaped cunt.
“Baby…” Nanami said in a low growl.
“Mhmm, ahh! Nanami d-don’t stop!” You moaned.
“I love watching how your pretty pussy swallows my fingers.” He smirked.
Watching how your body reacted to his touch and hearing your lewd noises has his dick begging for relief, he continued to finger fuck you till you came around his finger then he unbuttoned his pants.
“What do you think love? Want me to fuck you till sunrise?” He asked with a large grin in his face.
“What about worked?” You breathed heavily.
“I’ll just work overtime.” He said and pulled down his pants ready to fuck you senseless. 
746 notes · View notes
babybluebex · 2 years
Text
𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐢𝐝𝐬 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | eddie gets a great idea to take pictures while he fucks you, and you can't say no to an offer like that. 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | eddie munson (stranger things, 2022) x fem!reader 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 | smut, minors dni! — oral (f!receiving), fingering, p in v sex, unprotected sex, degredation, overstimulation, breeding kink (if you squint), praise kink, marking 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 | wow what happened to only posting on wednesdays hmmm, anyway have this! i had fun writing it and i figured yall would wanna read it! | follow @cremebruhleewrites to be notified when i post a new story!
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“Just one more.” 
Click. 
“Eddie. Baby.” 
“Yes?” Your boyfriend popped out from behind his Polaroid camera, his brown eyes all wide like a puppy dog.
“You said ‘one more’ last time,” you told him, and Eddie could only smile. You were right, after all; Eddie had been taking pictures of you for what felt like hours. 
“I have to make sure I’m getting good ones,” Eddie told you. He readjusted his stance next to you, flashing another picture, and he retrieved the picture as it slid out the front of the camera. “I’m gonna put the best one in my wallet.”
“Ugh,” you groaned, scrunching your nose. “Why?” 
“Because!” Eddie exclaimed.  “I wanna be able to whip out a picture of you and show everyone how gorgeous my woman is!”
You rolled your eyes dramatically, and you swiped up the dice that sat on Eddie’s floor. At first, you had just been helping him get ready for a meeting of the Hellfire Club that night, helping him check that he had his binder and books and the necessary bits and pieces that it took to make a D&D campaign work, but, somewhere along the way, Eddie had grabbed his camera and started snapping pictures of you, abandoning his work from before. 
“Let me see,” you told him, putting your hand out so he could give you one of the pictures, and Eddie grabbed one of the ones that had already developed and handed it to you. 
It was a nice picture, you had to admit. You sat on his floor, no pants, wearing one of his shirts. It was big on you and pulled over your shoulder, and the flash had highlighted your bare shoulder. Your hair had fallen into your face in the picture, blocking your eyes, but the curve of your nose and mouth had managed to persist. You were smiling, laughing at something dumb that Eddie had said, your hand outstretched to gather up the itty bitty golf pencil Eddie had in his kit. 
“Oh,” you said softly, your grip on the picture becoming much more tender than before. “Eddie, baby—”
“I like that one,” he said, his voice lowering gently. “I like how my shirt is hanging off of you… Looks real sexy, y’know?”
“I like my smile,” you admitted. It felt weird to say that about yourself, but, if the picture were of anybody else but you, you would have been head-over-heels for that smile.
“I like your smile too,” Eddie told you. He pressed his bottom lip between his teeth for a moment, his eyes canvasing you, and he reached out and brushed your hair aside. “Here, show me that smile again.”
“Ed,” you groaned playfully, but you did what he asked of you. You smiled straight at his camera, trying to replicate the soft smile that you had in the photograph, and Eddie snapped the picture. The camera churned it out and Eddie grabbed the photograph, still all black, and he turned back to his pile of actively-developing Polaroids, pulling out one that was nearly finished. This time, you held a pair of dice in your palm, your mouth open as you spoke, but you could instantly see why Eddie had chosen it: your naked legs were just a little open, showing just the faintest hint of your pink panties. 
“Now, this,” Eddie chuckled, and he hit the back of his hand with the photo. “This is sexy.” 
“If you want a picture of me opening my legs, all you have to do is ask,” you giggled, and Eddie’s face suddenly lit up. 
“I liked the subtlety of it,” he said, but he took the camera back in his hands. “Like you’re not trying to be sexy, you just are. But if you wanna be obvious about it… Open your legs, sweetheart.” 
“Okay, that was a joke,” you laughed, but the look on your boyfriend’s face told you that he definitely didn’t think it was a joke. “But if you’re serious…” 
“Serious as a heart attack, princess,” Eddie said, lifting the camera up. “C’mon, lemme see you.” 
You chewed your lip as you thought it over, and you finally said, “You can’t show these to anyone, okay? The other ones, sure, but not these.”
“Never,” Eddie told you, and he watched as you slowly opened your legs for him, giving him and his camera the perfect view of your panties. In an instant, Eddie had the camera up to his eye, and he snapped a picture, and the camera churned it out dutifully. “That’s cute, baby. Show me your tits.” 
You couldn’t help but feel a little shy as you stripped off your shirt, and Eddie’s hands reached out and lightly touched you. Your skin hummed at his touch, and you sighed softly when he smoothed his fingers across your nipple. The camera clicked in time with your sigh, and your boyfriend smiled like the devil behind the camera.
 “You’re so fuckin’ pretty,” Eddie told you, his hand falling away from you. “My pretty girl… I have an idea.”
“Oh, God,” you sighed. “What now?” 
Eddie flipped open his camera, seeing how many pictures he had left, and he nodded in contentment when he saw more than a few in there. “Take this,” he said and passed it to you, and he added, “I’m gonna go down on you and it’s your turn to take pictures.” 
“Eddie,” you gawked. “Are you sure? I mean, you’ve got Hellfire in, like, an hour.” 
“I can make it quick,” Eddie told you, and he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your mouth. For a moment, you forgot exactly what Eddie was proposing, and you put down the camera and kissed him back, your fingers threading into that lovely long hair of his. You moaned softly when his tongue prodded your lips and finally into your mouth, and you writhed in his grip as his thigh went between your legs. 
You felt his hands travel from your hips to the hem of your panties, and Eddie took no time in pulling them down your legs. His kiss lifted from off of your lips and settled on your neck, lightly biting your skin and soothing the sting of it with his tongue. You suddenly understood Eddie wanting to take pictures; as sexy and exciting as it was, it was a reminder of your time together, no matter what was done. 
Your hands scrambled to find the camera and you quickly grabbed it, and you turned it around to snap a picture of yourself, Eddie attached to your neck. You were giddy when you considered that you would have no idea what the pictures looked like until they fully developed in a few minutes, and you knew that you would be more than a little preoccupied by then. 
Eddie heard the camera go off, and he smiled into your neck. “You’re cute,” he mumbled, and he tugged himself out of your neck. His eyes examined your skin, looking at all the red marks that he had left, and he added, “Those are gonna bruise up so nice, I love it.” 
“Good,” you replied. “Now, isn’t there something you said you were gonna do?” 
Eddie rolled his eyes playfully, and, under his breath, he said, “You, maybe.” 
“Shut up,” you chuckled. “Get down there, hurry up.”
“Telling me to hurry…” Eddie mumbled playfully under his breath. “What’s that saying? Patience is a virtue?” 
“God, just put your mouth on my fucking pussy already,” you giggled, and Eddie dutifully obeyed. He pressed light kisses to your skin for a few moments, either teasing you or warming you up, and you grabbed the camera and set off a quick picture as Eddie’s hand came up and lightly touched your thigh. He smiled into your cunt, but he quickly got to work tugging down your panties, and he didn’t wait a second to press a kiss to your skin. 
Eddie opened your legs further and fully buried himself into your cunt, sending one long kick up from your hole to your clit. The electric shock that hit your body made you whimper, and your grip faltered on the camera. He sucked hard at your clit for a few torturous seconds, just long enough to make you squeal and grab at his hair, and he smiled into your skin. “Eddie,” you whimpered, and he responded by swirling his tongue along your wet flesh, threatening your hole with the tip of his tongue. “Eddie, baby…” 
“Take a picture,” Eddie mumbled into your cunt, and you nodded quickly, fumbling with the camera to get it to your eye. In the viewfinder, you could see your boyfriend’s lovely head between your thighs, his eyes looking up at you as his mouth quirked into a cheeky grin. Just as you snapped the picture, Eddie licked hard at your clit, and you gasped as the shock radiated through your legs. 
“Ed!” you whined. ”Fuck, baby!” 
Eddie didn’t reply, closing his eyes as he went back to his work, licking and biting and sucking at you. Everything he did left a hot coil in your tummy, winding tighter and tighter, and you dug the tips of your fingers into the hard plastic of the camera. Your leg twitched by his head when he added a finger to the mix, pressing it slowly into you as his mouth focused on your clit. He took your skin into his mouth and suckled at the sensitive nerve as his finger easily sank into your wet heat, and Eddie smiled as you writhed around him. 
“You like that?” he asked, and you nodded as you quickly flashed another picture. Eddie’s laughter vibrated up your spine and into your head, and he added a second finger before he started to fuck you quick and deep. The wet sounds of it were obscene, and you moaned; it made you wish that you had a video camera, just so you could capture the noises of it.
Eddie didn’t seem satisfied with just this, because he was quickly slinking away from your body, withdrawing his fingers and mouth. You whined at the loss of his fingers, and he laughed before shushing you. “It’s okay, princess,” he told you soothingly. “You’re getting my cock now, calm down.” 
The promise of that made you shiver, and you watched greedily as Eddie leaned back and undid his belt. Quickly, you remembered the camera, and, without even looking in the viewfinder, snapped a picture of Eddie’s smooth hands and fingers, adorned with rings, undoing his belt. You discarded the picture off to the side, in the general area of the others, and Eddie gave you a smile. “I knew you’d like the picture idea,” he said as he unzipped his jeans. “Are you gonna take pictures as I fuck you?”
“Yeah,” you said, your legs quivering as Eddie handled them around his waist, his jeans yawning open to expose the band of his boxers and the little happy trail he had that extended from his tummy and down into his underwear. “Maybe I’ll put one in my wallet.”
“I’d love to see it,” Eddie told you, and he rolled his hips forward, pressing himself fully against your wet pussy. “Fuck, baby, you’re so wet. Did I do that, did I make you all wet?” 
“Yes,” you gasped. You abandoned the camera in favor of gripping Eddie’s curls, and you dragged him down into a kiss, your mouths slotting together perfectly. His tongue swiped your lips before pushing into your mouth, and his fingertips dug almost painfully into the meat of your thighs. You liked the pain of it, though, and you moaned softly into Eddie’s open mouth. 
You could see just how impatient Eddie was, his kiss heady and needy, and you whispered, “Eddie, baby please fuck me already, I can’t wait any longer.” 
Eddie groaned low in his chest, and he mumbled, “M’gonna, princess, gonna fuck you so good.” His hands left your thighs, leaving little red crescents from his nails in his wake, and turned his attention back to himself. He shoved his jeans and boxers halfway down his thighs, just enough to expose his cock, and you quivered at the sight of him. You would never get over just how pretty Eddie’s cock was, thick and long, cut, with a little curve to the left, and your mouth watered. 
Eddie’s big brown eyes focused in on your pussy, and he spread your legs wide to slot his hips fully between them. Your breathing came quick as he pressed the head of his cock to your hole, and Eddie’s lips turned into a smirk as he pressed in just the tip. You whimpered and sobbed at the feeling of it, so close to what you needed but not enough and you pulled him into another kiss. 
“Eddie, baby,” you sobbed. “No teasing, baby, please.” 
Still partially inside you, Eddie leaned over to where you had set down the camera, and he quickly focused it on where your bodies met. In a quick, fluid motion, he snapped his hips forward and filled you all up, all the way to the hilt of his cock, and the camera snapped and the flash went off. Eddie pulled out the picture and waved it a few times in the air, trying to get it to process quicker than the others (although you had told him before that Polaroids don���t work like that, but Eddie swore it helped), and he said, “That’ll be a good one. Got your tits in it; this might be the one.” 
“Eddie!” you whined, and you covered your face abashedly. “Don’t put that one in your wallet!”
“Why not?” Eddie asked. “It’s gonna be beautiful!”
“Because you’re inside me in that picture!” you protested. “That’s embarrassing, y’know?” 
“Embarrassing?” Eddie asked. “Or hot?”
You sighed, and you grabbed the camera from Eddie, letting him brace himself up on his hands so he could start slowly fucking you. The stretch around him always hurt for the first few seconds, and you squeezed your eyes closed as Eddie slowly rocked his hips forward. The feel of it was exquisite, the hot drag of him inside you making you see stars already, and the way his cock nestled into that soft spot inside you with each thrust was almost sickening. 
Your hands shook as you situated the viewfinder on your eye, and Eddie flashed you a cheeky smile as you snapped a picture. You knew the picture would be subpar, likely shaky and out of focus, but it was Eddie, and you knew that would make the picture worth something. “Fuck me,” you told him, discarding the camera once more. “Fuck me harder, Eddie, please.”
“Harder,” Eddie echoed, and one of his hands went back to your marked thigh, pulling it up to settle your leg over his shoulder. The new angle allowed him deeper, so deep that you felt like you could feel him in your chest, and your back arched as he started up a quick pace. “Good girl, taking me so well… Fuck, princess, you’re so tight for me.” 
You nodded, unable to even form words, and Eddie laughed. You weren’t sure if he was laughing with you or at you, but he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “E-Eddie,” you stammered, your arms circling around his neck and clinging onto him. “Fuck, baby, y-you’re so deep.”
Eddie didn’t respond, only gripping you tighter and fucking you faster. If you thought the sounds of him fingering you were obscene, the noises now were absolutely nasty, loud and wet, skin hitting and brushing against each other. It only spurred on the hot coil in your stomach, drawing it tighter and tighter, and you knew you wouldn’t last long. 
It was a good thing that Eddie was such a good lover, so in tune with your body and needs, because he knew exactly what you wanted without you having to tell him. His hand left your thigh and drifted down between your bodies to the apex of your legs, and his skilled fingers quickly began to play with your clit, rubbing hard and pinching it enough to make you squeal and buck your hips. 
“Fuck!” you mewled, pressing yourself closer to him. “Eddie, you’re gonna make me cum if you keep doing that.”
“What the fuck do you think I’m trying to do?” Eddie laughed. “M’gonna make you cum before I do, and I’m gonna take the prettiest picture of you, all fucked out and used.” 
“O-Okay,” you stammered. “A-As long as I get a picture of you all fucked out.” 
“Of course,” Eddie agreed. “It’s only fair.”
Eddie’s fingers resumed their work on your clit, touching you with increasing urgency. He wanted you to cum quickly, and, with his quick pace and deep thrusts, it didn’t seem like it would take much longer. Your cunt throbbed around his cock as he fucked you, trying to draw him to his end as well, and Eddie hissed through his teeth. “Goddamn it, princess,” he said. “Tryin’ to make me cum all quick too.” 
“Please, Eddie,” you whimpered. Your hands scrambled for the camera again, and you braced it against your chest as you took a picture of him. The camera churned it out, and you once again abandoned the whole thing in order to touch Eddie. His chest was heaving with pants as he fucked you hard, and your hands grappled to grab him by his shoulders. Even though he was still fully dressed, there was something even more erotic than if he were naked with you, and you grabbed fistfuls of his shirt as his breath came in quick, sharp little gasps.
You could feel his cock throb inside you, and you knew that he was painfully close. “Fuck, Eddie,” you whispered in his ear, gently biting at his earlobe. “Are you gonna cum, baby?” 
“Yeah,” he grunted out. “Gonna fill you all up, princess.” 
“Oh, Eddie,” you moaned. “Please cum, baby, please.” 
“You want it?” Eddie asked. “You want my cum?”
“Yes,” you cried. Eddie’s fingers played quicker with your clit, your thighs shaking against your will as the coil drew tighter and hotter in your belly, and you dug your fingertips hard into his tough shoulder. Every sensation was jacked up to ten, Eddie fucking you so right and touching your clit and talking to you so nasty, and your back arched as you gasped. You couldn’t even get your full sentence out, “Eddie, I’m—!”, before the coil inside you burst, and you came. 
Your vision went a little blurry as you came, warm washing over your whole body as you grabbed Eddie hard, drawing him down into a kiss. It was an ugly kiss, all teeth and tongue, but it was exactly what you wanted from him. Eddie groaned into the kiss, his thrusts getting sloppy and even harder (if that was possible), and he speared into you hard one last time before he gave a deep grunt and a long groan, and you felt him spill inside you. Your mind felt gone, but you were there enough to grapple for the camera, and you took a picture of him, his head hanging low and his eyes squeezed shut, and you giggled lightly at him. 
“Here,” Eddie whispered. “Gimme that.” You quickly passed him the camera, and he took care to focus it nicely on your cunt, still filled by his cock and leaking his cum, before he snapped a picture. Your body quivered in pleasure as Eddie put down the camera and grabbed your hips again, and he put a sweet kiss on your open mouth. “You okay?” he asked, and you nodded gently. 
“Just…” you started, and huffed out a laugh. “Fucking tired now.” 
Eddie finally withdrew his hips, pulling his softening cock from inside you with another hiss, and he sat on the floor next to you. Carefully, he pulled you into his lap, and you buried your face in his neck as he grabbed the camera and flipped it open to check the film. “One picture left,” he announced. “Would you like to do the honors?” 
You nodded and took the camera from his hands, and you turned it around on both of you. Just in time for the picture, Eddie leaned in and kissed your cheek, and you laughed as the picture flashed and then churned out.
“That’s gonna be the best one,” Eddie said, and he took the picture into his hand and reverently put it on the floor, next to the pile of other Polaroids. You caught a glimpse of the other quickly-developing pictures— your tits, Eddie’s head between your thighs, a shaky flash of his cock halfway inside you— and, when you looked back at the final picture, you saw the ghost of yourself, smiling widely, with Eddie attached to your cheek. 
“I agree.” 
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daydreaming-nerd · 2 months
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The Bonds That Break Us (Rhysand x Female! Reader) Part 4
Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3, Part 5, Part 6, Final Part
Request: "Would you do a Rhysand x fem!reader series? Maybe fem!reader is Rhysand's mate and Tamlin's sister? So secret love?"
AN: food's ready, come dish up guys
Summary: It was almost as if the cauldron liked to play games, as if it had sensed years of boredom and predictability and begged to be entertained. Its method of absolving its melancholy? Mate the High Lord of the Night Court to the younger sister of the High Lord of Spring. 
Warnings (so far): SMUT (consensual), oral (female receiving), intercourse, dirty talking, unprotected sex, masturbation, mind speak sexting?, physical abuse, mentions of SA.
Word count: 6993
(all photos are from pinterest)
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That night, after Rhysand reclothed me, we talked about the future and how Tamlin needed to know, before things got messy with Eris or before he finds out and flips. All I had to do now was wait for the opportune time, which never seemed to come as Tamlin and Tarquin had been having tension. It seemed that part of the Spring Court’s lands on the border were prime farming spots for some of the spices that the farmers in the Summer Court grew. Tarquin had asked Tamilin to purchase the land and of course when Tamlin said no things started to get messy. Tamlin would go out and negotiate daily, and everyday he would come home angry. 
Tonight was no exception.
 I was sitting in one of the tea rooms reading my book when I heard him come home. The front door slammed, shaking the house, and then his office door slammed even harder.
I flinched. 
It has been like this for three days now. I looked at the clock on the wall and figured it was better for me to retire to my room with my novel for the night. 
I barricaded my door just for safety and crawled under the covers lighting a candle so that I could pick up where I left off. The main characters had finally confessed their love for one another and things were starting to get steamy. My eyes flitted across a particularly hot line and I felt my toes curl without warning once again. I should’ve known I was going to feel a little tug at the bond, but I was unprepared for the taut pull Rhysand gave me. 
Up late reading your dirty books mate? 
“Yes, I just needed the distraction,” I replied.
Did you tell your brother yet? 
I felt a pang of guilt, he had been waiting so dutifully for me to do so, and yet another day had passed where I was too scared, “I didn’t, he came home slamming doors and breaking vases again. I’m sorry Rhys.”
There’s no need to apologize. I want you to be safe after all. 
“Thank you for understanding,” I say sweetly
Of course mate. Now tell me what in this book has you all riled up? He says and I can hear his smirk. 
“A lady never kisses and tells,” I quip back. 
Ahh yes but ladies also don’t let strange men eat them out in secret rooms at balls. He says coolly. 
“Rhysand you little shit!” I laugh down the bond.
Come on my love, I’m dying to know what gets you off… Besides my tongue of course. 
I roll my eyes and try to send the emotion down the bond,  It’s nothing special really, he’s just fucking her, but he’s waited a while to do it so it’s extra steamy. I laugh. 
Poor bastard, I know the feeling. Rhys chuckles and I feel arousal flood between my legs. 
I can’t help but let my hand drift between my legs. Since Rhys touched me at the ball it’s all I’ve thought about (not that I would ever let him know). But suddenly the need for him has been so much stronger, I chalk it up to the mating bond strengthening, needing to be consummated.  I let my hand dip between my panties and I try to keep my emotions from flooding the bond, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing I could get off on his words alone. 
“Subtle Rhys,” I chuckle. 
I don’t need to be subtle, I told you exactly how it was going to go down that night at the ball did I not? 
My heart races and I let my finger on my clit speed up. 
“I suppose you’re right,” I say. 
Are you touching yourself darling? He purrs. 
Shit. 
“No,” I lie. 
You’re a terrible liar and you always have been, he chuckles.  I can feel you, my mate. 
“Damnit,” I curse, pulling my hand from my panties. 
Oh don’t you dare stop now, not when I’m currently fisting my cock. 
The image of Rhysand laying on his bed, naked, glorious and pumping his cock sends a wave of arousal straight through me and I practically scramble to shove my hands into my panties. 
Now tell me, are you playing with that beautiful little clit? The one I licked at the ball? 
Oh I was so in for it with this man, I was so utterly and terribly fucked. 
“Yes,” I admit quietly. 
Then I am terribly jealous of those delicate fingers. 
“Rhys,” I moaned back. It was all I could think about, him. 
Slip a finger in that tight little cunt won’t you darling? 
As stupid as it felt I did it, and god it felt good. Not as good as his felt, but it would have to do. 
“It doesn’t feel as good as you,” I say, trying to play the game. 
I hear him chuckle,  No my dear they don’t and they never will. 
“Are you close?” I ask, feeling my own orgasm coming. 
Let me hear those little begs again and I will be, he drawls. 
I know exactly what he means. After he feasted on me at the ball and I nearly jumped his bones afterwards. When he said he wanted to wait I pathetically let out a whine. 
“Please Rhys, I need you.” I plead. 
Fuck y/n, I hear him moan and it’s enough to make me hit my climax. 
“Oh fuck!” I cry down the bond. 
His own string of curses followed as he came himself and I could picture him lying there, chest sweaty and heaving, the aftermath of his orgasm all over him. It was almost enough to make me reach my hands down my panties again, almost. 
“So mind sex? That’s your thing?” I taunt him. 
A loud chuckle reverberates through my mind, No you’re my thing darling. 
“I’m flattered,” I laugh. 
A moment of silence passes and my chest continues heaving as I crawl further under the covers and blow out my candle. Romance book long forgotten. I sit in the quiet for a little longer waiting for Rhys to say something, until I finally speak up.
“Are you still there?” I ask timidly.
Always, simply catching my breath. How was your day today? 
“Boring, I don’t really have any friends here except my ladies maids and they are all terrible snoops. Tamlin has them in his back pocket.” I sigh. 
Just wait till you meet Nuala and Cerridwen, they’re snoops too. He laughs. 
“I can’t wait to,” I say.
I’m happy to finally hear you say that. He muses and I can practically feel his smile. 
“Well I better get some sleep. If I plan on telling Tamlin tomorrow I’ll need my wits about me.” I sigh. 
Goodnight darling, I love you.
There’s a hopefulness in his words. One I can’t meet. That phrase, ‘I love you’. I knew I should say it back. But I didn’t know what love meant. Didn’t know how it felt. I couldn't bring myself to return the sentiment. 
"Goodnight Rhys," was all I could say.
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The next morning I woke up and Tamlin had already left, which was a damn shame because I would’ve liked to have told him before he had gone to fight with Tarquin all day. 
I paced most of the day in the tea room as I was beginning to grow antsy. Last night proved to me just how much I needed Rhysand, physically of course because of the bond. My skin was nearly sweating with need. I tried to read my book but it didn’t do much to help. I tried to go out and pick flowers for the dining table and it got me nowhere. To make matters worse it felt like Tamlin was gone for longer than usual as the darkness slid in, the moonlight shone, and all the lanterns and candles magically were lit.  
I started pacing in the foyer waiting for him to arrive home. Maybe he was taking so long because he had finally reasoned with Tarquin. I thought to myself. But as the doorknob jiggled and a fiery looking Tamlin came in I knew how dead wrong I was. 
“How was your meeting with Tarquin?” I asked, trying to seem sisterly, like that had ever won his affections. 
“Awful! The stubborn brute wants to take part of my land and only give me 20% of its profits per harvest!” he yells storming through the hall. I follow him. 
“20% isn’t bad, maybe you could show him what a generous High Lord you are by accepting the offer,” I chirped enthusiastically. 
“Are you out of your mind?” he whirls to look at me. “20% is cheap sister, not that you would ever have the mind for money. All you know how to do is spend mine.” 
“Tamlin, that's not fair and you know it.” I reason. 
“What does it matter anyways,” he rolls his eyes and begins storming off again. “You’ll be worth your weight in gold once you marry Eris and become his consort.” 
Fire boiled in my veins, “I already told you Tamlin, I don’t want to marry Eris. God how fucking selfish and cruel do you have to be to sell your sister off to a monster?!” I scream and as the words leave my mouth I already regret saying them. I had never been so bold in my life, at least not with Tamlin.
I don’t even have time to react before I feel a harsh slap across my face knocking me to the ground. “YOU ARE MY SISTER AND A WOMAN IN THIS COURT!” Tamlin screams at me. He picks me up by my hair, “and you will not question how I rule it.” 
Tears prick my eyes as the skin of my cheek burns. Tamlin releases my hair dropping my body to the ground and I’m left in a heap of tulle and tears as he slams his door. 
Are you okay? My mate calls into my mind.  
I press my cold hand to my cheek, “yeah I’m fine.” 
No you’re not, you're hurt. 
“I’m fine Rhys, it’s not bad,” I say, pulling myself up off the floor and winnowing to my room. 
What happened? 
I sigh, knowing he’ll badger me until he gets an answer. “I tried to get Tamilin to make amends with Tarquin so that he would be in a good mood and he hit me.” 
He hit you? I could hear him growling, feel the anger down the bond. 
“It’s really fine Rhys, I’m in my room now and I’m safe.” I say trying to calm him down. 
I’m going to fucking kill him y/n. I’m coming to get you right now. I’m not letting you stay there another minute. 
“Rhys please! Stop and be reasonable. If you barrel in right now it’s going to piss Tamlin off even more. He could hurt me or worse. We have to be civil about all this.” I reason with him. 
Fine, but no more after this y/n. I can’t stand it any longer. It’s killing me from the inside out. To know you’re in that horrible place. When you could be safe and warm here. 
“I promise I will figure this out, I just need time,” I assure him. 
I know you will, my beautiful strong mate.
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“Tamlin hurry up, we're already late!” Lucien screams from the foyer. It was another council day and I had hoped that Tamilin would finally be able to reason with Tarquin.
Yesterday I went into town to shop for a new dress, it seemed I had exhausted all my other purple ones and I wanted more. I picked out a dress that was a far darker purple than any I had worn before. But it seemed fitting, seemed more Rhysand. 
“Let’s go,” Tamilin ordered entering the room in a huff. He peered at the dress I was wearing, “Purple again? I’d think you’ve grown tired of it by now.” 
Was this really his method of trying to make up for hitting me and yelling at me? Giving me a somewhat backhanded compliment?
“Viviane said that it was my color,” I replied, not entirely a lie. 
He didn’t say anything, just grabbed Lucien and winnowed us to the Night Court. 
I had no clue what to expect from the Night Court. I had never been before today. I had only ever heard stories. Stories of its darkness and its monsters. When we arrived I almost couldn’t believe that this is where Rhysand lived.
The large city under the mountain had a darkness to it, while faelights bobbed all around, it didn’t hide the darkness in the shadows that lingered. The city under the mountain was a metropolis, and it was terrifying with its large spires all around. Every surface is carved with lovely, hideous artwork: figures dance and fornicate, beg and revel. I was surprised Tamlin even allowed me to come with him today. 
We enter into a dimly lit chamber where all the Lords are already seated and waiting for us to arrive, Tamlin apologizes and chalks it up to me taking too long to primp, a lie of course. As my eyes scan the room I see only two chairs open and one happens to be next to Rhysand. I try to hide the smirk on my face as I take the seat next to him, forcing Tamlin to take the other one. 
You look ravishing as always. Croons Rhyand.
“Thank you, the dress is new,” I smile.
New and purple? You flatter me mate. He smirks. 
I chuckle down the bond, “Don’t flatter yourself too much, Vivianne said she liked me in purple as well.”
Well then I’ll have to thank Viviane later. He smiles. 
The council begins and just like I figured Tamlin and Tarquin laid into one another right away. All the other Lords but Rhysand and Kallias chimed in to solve the issue, but the winter and night court Lords seemed content to watch it all play out and I didn’t blame them. It took everything in me to not turn to the side to look at Rhys. His presence was so commanding especially in his own court and I had missed his face, those eyes, so much.
I felt a large hand being placed over my own under the table. 
You’re going to get me in trouble. I gripe at Rhys but flip my hand so I can hold his back.
Shh no one can see, I just wanted to feel you. 
Eventually the fighting dies down as the Lords end up forcing Tamlin to accept the deal Tarquin has offered and I try not to smile as my brother’s pissed off face. Turns out I was right and 20% isn’t such a low number after all. Rhys lets go of my hand to stand and address the room. 
“I think we’ve had more than enough political talk, why don’t we disband.” he states, and it sounds like his voice booms off the walls of the room. 
A murmur of agreement fills the room as the sound of obsidian chairs scratch the stone below, signaling that the lords are getting up. I feel a hand on my shoulder and I feel my stomach pit, is Rhysand stupid? But when I turn around I’m met with the raking stare of Eris Vanserra. 
“Hello my little fox, I was wondering if I might speak to you for a moment?” He asks, and I can practically feel Tamlin staring daggers into the side of my head.
“Yes of course my Lord,” I smile taking his arm. 
We promenade outside the council meeting room and into the hallway. I look up to find faint faelight glowing from large chandeliers, the walls are filled with tapestries and statues of people fucking and begging just like in the rest of the city. Large pillars shoot up from the aisles supporting the large room and I still wonder how Rhys could possibly live here. 
“I’m sorry for taking you away so soon, I know that you love to talk to Viviane, but I just had to see you,” Eris says. 
“No apologies necessary,” I reply, still taking in the sites around me. 
“I know that your brother and my father are still negotiating the terms of our marriage but I couldn’t wait to give you this,” he says before pulling a long black box out of his pocket, and opening it up. 
Inside lies a rather large and beautiful necklace. A huge golden crystal is attached by a string of glittering diamonds. If it was given to me by anyone else I would’ve thought it beautiful, but I knew it’s true meaning, it’s true purpose. It wasn’t just a piece of fine jewelry, it was a collar, meant to show everyone I belonged to Eris now. I took a mental deep breath. 
“Oh Eris, it’s beautiful!” I gasp, running my hands over the chain. 
“I knew you would like it,” he smiled. “Here allow me to help you put it on.” 
I turn around and feel him place the heavy jewel around my neck. The weight of it already making me feel shackled. His fingers dust over the nape of my neck fastening the clasp. He kisses my shoulder when he’s done and I feel his hands gently turning me around so he can see it on me. 
“It looks beautiful on you, like it was made for you,” he smiles, hand caressing my face.
“I love it, thank you,” I say, trying to hide my discomfort. 
“I promise you that when we are officially engaged you will have even bigger jewels,” he smirks, stepping forward even closer, causing me to step back. “And when we’re married even bigger jewels,” He croons and my back hits one of the many pillars. “But I’ll save the biggest and most expensive ones for when you bear me our first son.” he smirks and there’s nothing I can do to stop him from crashing his lips on mine.  
Eris kisses me hungrily and needily as my hands fly to the pillar my back is pressed on, any little movement to keep him farther away from me. His hands drop to wander my waist and I feel the entire room shudder causing pieces of dust to fly up everywhere. Eris pulls himself off of me. 
“What was that?” I ask afraid. 
“I’m not sure, I’ll go check,” Eris replies and he leaves me to run back to the council chambers to confer with the rest of the Lords. 
  I step forward from the pillar and take a deep breath. I start to follow Eris back to the council room but then my skin starts to buzz again and I stop in my tracks. Rhysand’s hands graze up my arms from behind me as he leaves gentle kisses on my neck. 
“That was you wasn’t it?” I smirk. 
“Maybe,” he smiles into my skin. “He had a lot of nerve kissing my mate in my court.”
“To be fair he didn’t know,” I giggle. 
“I don’t care, he was lucky I didn’t rip his head off,” he says, continuing to kiss my neck.
“This place is terrifying, how do you live here?” I laugh.
“I don’t, this place is just where I entertain other Lords,” he explains, kissing my neck still.  
“Then where do you live?” I ask, reaching up to press my hand against his face, encouraging him not to stop. 
He smiles against my skin, “I want you to tell your brother that you’re staying with Viviane again tonight.” 
“Why?” I ask. 
“Because, I finally have you here, in my court. I want you to stay here with me, even if it’s just for one night.” he emphasizes his statement with a long lick up my neck that has my toes curling in my shoes. 
I turn to look at him, “are you sure my brother won’t find out?” I ask, finally looking into those violet eyes I had been missing. 
“I’m positive,” he smiles and his eyes glance down to the necklace. “You weren’t wearing that earlier.”
I roll my eyes, “Eris just gave it to me. He said it was a gift but it feels more like a collar.” I say straightening my shoulders in discomfort from the weight of it. 
Rhysand doesn’t say anything, he just reaches a hand around the back of my neck to unclasp the necklace. I immediately feel the weight fall off into his hand and he looks at it before chucking it somewhere in the room. 
“Rhys!” I laugh.
“Much better now we can see your pretty neck,” he smirks before leaning in to kiss me. I practically melt into his touch.
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Because the rest of the Lord ganged up on him, Tamlin left early and just like Rhys asked, I told him I would be staying with Viviane tonight. Tamlin didn’t even bat an eyelash. It wasn’t long until the last couple, Kallias and Viviane, left.  I turned to see Rhys staring at me from across the room with that playful smirk I always wanted to kiss off his face. 
“Are you ready to go mate?” he asked, holding out his arm to mine. 
I took it eagerly, “To go where?” I asked earnestly. 
“To Velaris,” he smiled brighter than I had ever seen him smile before and before I could question further he winnowed us away. 
When the shadows cleared I was in a house. A lush, beautiful and homey house. Thick red wool carpeted the floor, and the walls were made of a rich wood. Comfy chairs and chaises were littered about and a warm fire sprung to life. It looked lived in and loved compared to the mansion in the Spring Court. 
“So this is where you live?” I ask taking in my sights. 
“Yes it is. The place we just were? We call it The Court of Nightmares, that’s where we conduct business to keep up appearances for other courts. But this is where I live, Velaris, the city of starlight.” he explains watching me take it all in. 
I look out a large window and see the golden fae lights of the village beyond. It sits below a large snow capped mountain. It’s the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen, and it already feels like home. 
“What do you mean we?” I ask. Before I can answer two large crashes come from the terrace outside causing me to jump. 
“I mean my cousin Mor, my second in command and of course Cassian and Azriel.” he says nodding to the doors where the two Illyrians from the ball are waltzing in. “Y/n this is Azriel, “ Rhysand nods to the one with the shorter hair and Azriel waves. “And this is Cassian.” he nods to the one with the longer hair. 
“Ahh yes the one that bites,” I muse. 
“Only sometimes,” Cassian chuckles. “It’s a pleasure to meet you y/n,” he says, holding out his hand. 
I shake it and my whole hand nearly disappears in his just like Rhysand’s. “The pleasure is all mine, I’ve never met an Illyrian before.” I say looking over his large wings. 
“Then you’re missing out for sure,” he says looking at Azriel who just rolls his eyes.
“Your wings are magnificent, would you mind if I…” my words fall short as I hold up my hand. 
“Touch them?” Cassian asks. “Go right ahead y/n,” he smirks, eyes flitting to Rhys. 
I reach my hand out to graze over the material of his wings, they feel like leather. They are rugged to the touch and I can tell that they have seen many years of battle. I hear what sounds like the snapping of leather behind me. I turn around and my jaw nearly hits the floor. There before me, Rhysand stands with his own Illyrian wings. 
“I have wings too you know,” Rhysand says  as  he tilts his head. 
Cassian erupts into laughter, “Feeling a bit jealous there Rhys?” he jokes. 
Rhys just rolls his eyes and pulls a hand out of his pocket and offers it to me. I take his hand, still too stunned to find Rhys with wings to even speak. 
“We’ll see you two later, I’m going to give y/n the rest of the tour,” Rhysand drawls leading me towards the stairs. 
“Goodnight you two,” Cassian drawls before taking off with Azriel. 
“I didn’t know you had wings” I say, still bewildered staring up at them. 
“It’s not really something I make a spectacle of. I only have them out when I’m going to use them, otherwise they tend to get in the way,” he explains, leading me up the stairs. 
“So you can shift back and forth between having them and not having them?” I ask. 
“Essentially, yes,” he says and shifts back to his wingless form just to prove the point.
“So what was the deal with me touching Cassian’s wings? Is that like taboo or something?” I ask, feeling my cheeks heat up remembering how Cassian smirked at Rhys when I asked. 
“Illyrians can feel through their wings and are known to attack first and ask questions later if they are touched without invitation. It was basically like if you ask if you could touch his abs,” Rhysand chuckles. 
“Oh,” I said, my heart stopping. “Now I feel bad.” 
“Don’t feel bad, Cassian loves teasing me. He let you touch his wings just to watch my face as you did so,” Rhys laughed again, opening a door to our left. “This is one of the guest rooms.” 
I look around at the somewhat dark room, the same lush carpet coats the floor along with the same wooden paneling. It was quaint and perfect. Rhys continued leading us down the hall to show me another guest room which was much like the first just a little bit bigger. He explained that they were the rooms Cassian and Azriel slept in for Solstice. 
“And this is my room,” he explained before opening the door to the last room in the hallway. 
The room is much larger than the other two, the huge bed was made with dark black and purple blankets and pillows. I heard the door close as I continued to explore. The bed sat next to a balcony that had the same view of the living room, the village lit with fae lights and the snowy mountain. To the left was a large bathroom with a bathtub, large enough I realized, to fit Rhysand’s wings. 
“Your room is-” 
“Our room. This is our room now.” he says and I turn to meet his gaze. “I’ve waited so long to see you standing here. In Velaris, in the townhouse, in this room.” 
“And what is it that I’m normally doing in this room, Rhys?” I smile, faking my innocence. 
“Well,” he drawls, stepping closer to me. “It goes a little something like this,” he muses before placing a hand on my cheek and kissing me. 
This kiss is different, less heated than all the others we shared before it. It holds all the passion of what’s to come, what we both know is coming. His hands slide to my waist and I let out a small moan and I can feel Rhys trying not to smile. My hands tangle in his hair pulling him closer as I feel my legs hit the mattress. He pulls me closer to him so I don’t fall and I feel him turn me around so my back is facing him. 
“Normally I would use my magic to take your clothes off,” he says voice low, his hands unlacing the corset in my dress. “But I want to take my time with you tonight,” he continues undoing the last lace. 
I nearly melt at his words, but I feel the dress start to fall and I grab the top of it to keep it from falling down. The dress didn’t allow for any undergarments meaning I would be completely bare to him. 
Rhysand places a kiss on my shoulder, “You’ve never let a man see you naked before have you?” he asks. 
“No I haven’t,” I say shyly. I feel a moment of fear but turn around and let my dress fall to the floor in a giant pile of purple chiffon. Rhysand’s eyes rake down my body and I move to cover my breast with my arms as pink tints my cheeks. 
“Don’t you dare cover those perfect breasts mate,” he says gently, pulling my arms away. “You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I’m so lucky to call you my mate.” he kisses me again, absolving any fear I have as I feel his hands finally roam my naked body. I push him away lightly. 
“I want to see you too,” I say breathlessly looking into his eyes that are suddenly a darker shade of violet than they were before. 
“As my mate commands,” he smirks, standing back to take off his clothes. His eyes locked on mine, never breaking eye contact until he stood before me completely bare. 
I let my eyes rake down on him. His body ripples with strong and lean muscles, the upper part of his chest and shoulders are covered in swirling tattoos. My eyes dare to travel lower over his abs to his straining cock. All I can think to myself is there’s no way that’s going to fit inside me.
Rhysand chuckles, stepping towards me, “I promise it will fit mate.”
“Shit I said that out loud?” I curse ducking my chin in embarrassment. 
“No you didn’t, but your thoughts were so loud you might as well have,” he laughs tilting my chin up to meet his eyes. 
My eyes drift down to his chest again and I finally let my hands wander the muscles on his chest. His skin soft and smooth under my fingers, I run them up his abs, over his pecs, across his shoulders and down his arms earning a low groan from him. I take his hands and place them on my waist, throwing my own over his shoulders and as I look into his eyes the words just tumble out of me. 
“I love you Rhys,” I breathe. 
“You don’t have to say it just because I said it the other day,” he says almost sadly. 
“I’m not. I love you Rhysand,” I smile. 
A smile spreads across his face, “I love you too mate.” 
His hands pull me closer to him and I can feel my breasts pressing against his chest as he seals our lips again. This time the kiss is more needy as I feel my heart rate pick up. His frame backs me up and I can feel his cock pressing into me making me practically moan into the kiss. 
My legs hit the mattress again, this time he lets me fall onto the bed. I open my eyes and watch his eyes rake down me again, nothing short of a predatory gaze behind them. His knees hit the mattress and he crawls over me, caging me in with his arms. He kisses me deeply and begins to move his lips down my jaw and to my neck again. I can feel his restraint as he tries not to leave love bites all over me. His lips go lower and lower and my chest starts to heave in anticipation of what I think is next. 
“Your breasts,” he says, kissing the top of each one. “Are the most beautiful pair of breasts I’ve ever seen. I should’ve worshiped them the moment that dress hit the floor.” He smirked.
He started kissing the underside of each breast, then the sides and then the tops again purposefully avoiding the one place I wanted his mouth the most, making me squirm. 
“And these pretty pink nipples,” he says before finally taking one in his mouth and suckling. 
“Oh fuck,” I breathe having my back arch into him. His other hand comes up to draw little circles on my other nipple. 
“Dirty mouth mate,” he teases before resuming his menstrations.
My hands fly to his hair as I pull him closer to me needing more of him. Needing all of him. 
“Wouldn’t want this one to think I don’t love it,” he smirks before sucking my other bud into his mouth. 
“Rhys please,” I breathe tugging at his hair. 
“So eager are we mate?”  he says kissing down my body till he gets to my core. He skips over it and sits up, taking my leg and kissing my ankle. He draws a path of kisses all the way down my leg till he reaches the inside of my thigh. He gives me an evil grin before sitting up and beginning to do the same with the other leg.  
“Ugh Rhysand!” I groan, causing him to chuckle. 
“I told you I wanted to take my time mate,” he chuckles against my calf.  “Was there a certain body part you were hoping I would kiss?” he asks suggestively.
“Your favorite part,” I muse. 
“You cruel wicked thing. As if I could ever just choose one part of you to be my favorite.” he says, acting wounded, putting my leg down. He leans into my pussy and places a kiss there running a finger through my folds. “Though I will say that one of my top contenders is this pretty little clit.” he hums lowly before flicking his tongue over the bundle of nerves. 
“Ahh,” I scream, my hands going straight to his hair. 
“Precisely why I love it. I love the little sounds you make when I lick it,” he growls before diving in to feast on me. 
“Oh my gods Rhys!” I scream, grinding my hips into his face. 
That’s right y/n I wanna hear everything. We’re not in Beron’s office anymore, scream for me mate. He says into my mind and I do. 
I scream and writhe and moan. My eyes flit down to where his mouth is attached to my pussy. His darkened eyes look up at me watching the pleasure rake through my body. One of his hands comes from my hip and I feel his fingers tease my entrance before he slides one into me. His mouth continues suckling on my clit as his fingers curl to massage that spot inside of me that I didn’t know was there until he touched it at the ball. 
Gods your pussy tastes so good. After we’re officially mated I promise to spend a whole night between your legs eating you out until you can’t move. 
“Rhys!” I scream, his words my undoing as I cum on his tongue. He works me through my orgasm until my legs stop shaking and then he pulls his finger from me. He places a kiss on my clit one last time before moving up the bed. He watches me as he sucks all my leftover cum on his finger off. 
I grab his neck and pull him down to kiss me again. He slips his tongue into my mouth and I can taste myself on him. My hands run down his back feeling the powerful muscles there,  gods I could just sit here and touch him all day. He was as beautiful as I had pictured him that one night not too long ago. He was everything and he was mine. 
“That’s right mate, I am yours,” he said between kisses. Clearly my thoughts we’re projecting again. 
“And I am yours Rhys,” I breathe, and he takes a moment to study my face trying to read if I really mean it, like he thought the words would never leave my mouth.  
“Mine,” he grumbles, connecting our lips again. “Beautiful and perfect and all fucking mine.” 
I feel his cock nudging my entrance and I gasp. I want it, I want all of him, but I’m scared. 
“Rhys I’m scared, I’ve never had sex before,” I say. 
“Don’t worry darling I wasn’t going to push in yet. Do you think you’re ready?” he asks sweetly. 
“Yes I’m ready,” I nod. 
“Okay tell me if it hurts too much and I’ll stop right away okay?” He says, kissing my forehead. 
“I will, I promise,” I assure him, cupping his cheek. 
“Here we go,” he says and I feel the tip of his cock at my entrance and it’s enough to have a large wave of arousal flood between my legs once more. 
He pushes his tip in and I start to feel the burn but I don’t say anything as he slowly continues to push in. I feel him stretching me and the mixture of pleasure and pain starts to take over my body. Once he’s nearly fully inside me I wince and he stops. 
“Shh it’s okay, you’re doing so good my mate,” he coos, kissing my brow. 
“I’m good now, keep going,” I breathe. 
I feel him bottom out inside me and I scream in both pain and pleasure once more. 
“Fuck y/n,” he groans, but he doesn’t move trying to give me time to adjust. I relish how full I feel with him all the way in me and I look down at his arms. His muscles are taught and his veins are nearly popping and I realize it’s taking everything inside of him not to pull his cock out and slam it into me. The thought of him taking me so rough puts butterflies in my stomach. 
“Rhys please move,” I cry trying to rock my hips into him. 
He pulls out a little and thrusts back in and I hold back my cry as he does it again. He starts to build up a good slow tempo and after a while the pain disappears. 
“Fuck you’re taking me so good, you’re doing so good mate.” he groans trying to keep himself from losing control. 
“Harder Rhys,” I whine running my hands through his hair. 
“No I don’t want to hurt you,” he shakes his head watching his cock disappear inside of me looking for any hint of discomfort. 
He’s being gentle, trying to make sure I feel good. But all I can think of are his whimpers and moans from when he stroked his cock a few nights ago, and how desperately I want to hear them again. How desperately I want my pussy to be the thing that draws them from his lips. 
I grab his face and force him to look at me so that he can see how dead serious I really was, “Rhys I want you to fuck me,” I ordered him. 
“Fuck y/n,” his eyes widened and I could see all resolve has left exit his body. 
His hips thrusted into me harder and I strangled cry left my mouth as he continued to fuck me. The sound of skin slapping skin filled the room as my nails raked down his back, bringing those moans of his to the surface, I could’ve came right there. 
“Fuck Rhys it feels so good,” I say blissfully. 
“Gods mate how is your pussy so tiny and tight?” he groans into my neck fucking me harder. “You feel so good wrapped around me.” 
I feel his lips crash onto mine again, hips never faltering. I can barely keep our lips attached as he keeps pulling moans from me and all I can think is how utterly his I am. 
“Say it again,” he grits out and I know exactly what he means. 
“I’m yours Rhysand,” I hum. 
“Mine,” he grunts fucking me even harder. 
The new pace has me seeing stars as I grip onto his shoulders leaving crescent shaped marks in his skin. I feel the ever familiar knot in my stomach growing and I’m moments away from cumming with his name on my tongue. 
“Rhys I’m gonna cum,” I warn him and I can see the muscle in his jaw flicker. 
“Me too. Cum with me mate,” he grunts before flicking my clit. I crumble the moment he flicks the sensive bud. 
“OH GOD RHYS!” I scream digging my nails into his back again. 
“Oh fuck y/n,” he groans, hips stuttering as he spills his seed into me. 
We’re a heap of sweat and ragged breaths as he keeps himself propped up as not to crush me. My hands smooth back his hair and I leave sweet kisses on his brow. 
“I love you so much Rhys,” I whisper in his ear leaving a kiss there. I mean every word, my soul so full of love for him that tears prick my eyes. 
“I love you too y/n.” he smiles, pressing our lips together. 
He sits up pulling out of me and I feel a breath escape my lips, disappointed at the sudden emptiness. He sits on his knees and I watch as he stares between my legs. His eyes light up in amusement. 
“What?” I giggle sitting up a little on my arms. 
“I’ve waited forever to have this view,” he smirks. 
“What view?” I ask.
“You, naked, in my bed, with my cum dripping out of your pussy.” he muses, leaning over me again. “Totally and completely mine.” he smiles, kissing me again.
I hum in approval at his words and kiss him harder feeling his skin melt against mine. I try to pour every ounce of love I have into it. The way he kisses me has me seeing stars and I suddenly feel hot again, like I need more of him. 
“Rhys I want more,” I say between kisses. 
“I fuck you one time and you already want more?” he chuckles. “Don’t worry mate, I’m not done with you yet.”
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kyouxa · 2 months
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Diabolik lovers Lost Eden: Ayato & Laito Sakamaki (short stories)
Please no reposting onto other sites, ask me before translating this into another language too! Scans provided by: @yuikomorii​
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Ayato Sakamaki
That night, Richter visited the mansion for the first time in a while. Never before I would have thought that the man whose face I never wanted to see again, was the one I would end up choosing as my guardian. My brothers, even the Mukami guys… they looked very surprised to run into his face as well, not that I cared though. 
In any case, I just didn’t want to repeat the same mistakes I already made in this world. But thanks to her I’ve already become a different person from back then.
According to Richter’s report, the demon world itself seems to gain stability. He also mentioned that Eden’s restoration has become slightly better and that the familiars of those Mukami guys have come to help. Holy shit, after hearing all of this I couldn’t help but let my inner self get overwhelmed by relief. 
As Richter finished his report, he immediately left the mansion and I could finally return to my own room. And just as I opened the door I saw her sitting by the window, reading a book as she slowly raised her face.
“Hm… ? Is Richter-san already back on his way home? Don’t you usually have a longer talk with one another… ?”
As she spoke to me, I approached her and started to smell a calming scent. As I grabbed her hand to move her up from the chair, I couldn’t help but immediately hug her afterwards. The book she was holding in her hand instantly fell onto the floor with a thud. 
“Just outta curiosity… but did you happen to take a bath while I was gone?”
She nodded to my question and I started to smile at her in response.
“Heh, so you’ve prepared yourself already? If that’s so, then…”
As soon as I spoke those words, I pushed her down onto the bed next to me. Blocking her flustered face from uttering something, I laid my hand over her lips to keep them closed. 
While I started kissing her continuously in various spots of her neck, I disarranged her negligee slightly. And like usually, when my face is already close to her neckline, I might as well get a bit of her luxurious blood out of her dainty neck. Just when I was about to get to it, she stiffened up a little. Noticing this, I suddenly got an idea and gently licked over her neck. “Kya!!”
She was very surprised by my action and therefore let out a small scream. I guess it was pretty unexpected after all. 
“Kuku… did you think I was about to suck your blood? You fell for it, didn’t you?”
Right after I said that, I teasingly started licking her ear this time. She lets out another small scream and turns around as if I had just tickled her. I was intrigued by her unusual reaction, which is why I started to really tickle her body this time.
She busted out laughing begging me to stop while she tried to escape from my tickling attack which just made me wanna tickle her even more. If I was already given the choice I might as well do it as thoroughly as possible. 
“I’m not letting you go! At least not until I’m satisfied…”
She continued to roll around the bed for a while, trying to resist until she rapidly became obedient and calmed down. “Hm? What’s going on? Surrendering? How boring…”
Just as I was about to move my hands from her, she unexpectedly turned the situation around. “Wha–! What are… hahahaha!” 
Of all the things, I didn’t expect her to take advantage of me taking off my hands for a second to gimme a tickle counterattack. Seeing me burst into laughter made her laugh as well. “Stop already, will you!? Hahah! Shit! Chichinashi, move… !” 
Receiving even the slightest bit of retribution I immediately became serious again and got my revenge through tickling her body. She tried with all her power to go up against me and return the punishment . 
And, just for a brief period I was sure the laughter of both of us was echoing through more than just the room. To be honest, it would’ve been easy for me to get out of this situation and resist her. And yet, the reason why I go along with such a trivial battle is because I would give anything to keep seeing her carefree smile, even if it’s only for a bit longer. The fact that we can both laugh together like this makes me feel happy and maybe that’s because I’ve grown a little since then. 
Laito Sakamaki
I’ve returned to the human world in order to finish my school life as a senior high student. I never thought I would have to return here every day again. “Haa… I’m sick of reading this, I wish those tests would finally disappear for good.” While I started to comb my hair out of boredom, my girlfriend who’s sitting next to me continued studying in silence until she replied that it cannot be helped and I should continue reading. 
“Come on, Bitch-chan. No need to be such a serious and straight-laced person, no?” As I said those words, I gently put my arm around her back and started to lightly embrace her waist. Even though I saw a faint blush on her face, she reminds me that she is busy studying right now. 
“I know that.” But, despite that, I started nibbling on her ear. Perhaps this has always been my normal life no matter to what extent. 
To even think that I begged for death because it was unbearable to keep on having these powers in my state… but that is beyond doubt the absolute truth and I totally understand that I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for the power of the World Tree. The only difference from me back then and now is that I am finally able to accept that reality. During that time, my power was too strong for me to handle, I wasn’t able to come to grasp that reality. And even so, I deserved a second chance. Ironically, due to her help I could finally accept the distortion within me and become more straightforward at the end. I held up my face close to her chest in a way of telling that I love her. 
“This is all thanks to you that I can exist like this.” However, she doesn’t reply to me. “Are you agreeing with me if you’re staying silent like this?” 
It was a calm sigh that she returned to me that made me understand the answer to my question. 
“I guess I was too reckless, no?” She showed a bitter smile as I examined her expression. As I observed her tiny body calmly from top to bottom I was shaken by a sudden feeling of satisfaction. And yet there is no way to help the fact that this world is slowly going to destroy itself. I have been told that alongside my resurrection, the world tree has been new-born but started to shed its leaves ever since. Even though it’s all said and done this is happening just as he wished for. He knew right from the start that I wasn’t ever capable of being the vampire king. 
“No matter how far I move on with my life, I will always be right in the palm of his hands.” With those words escaping my mouth, I closed my eyes. It’s still unimaginable to me that I used to be a different person before, but… all I needed in the end is someone like her to accept me as I am. That is because I am Adam and she is Eve. – And no matter what will become of this world, I’m prepared for it. 
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refrigeratorwrites · 4 months
Text
⊹ ࣪ ˖୧ ‧₊˚ THE MOON IS BEAUTIFUL, ISN'T IT?
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RORONOA ZORO x GN!READER
SYNOPSIS: in which zoro comes to three conclusions about your role in his life. accompanied by unrelenting rhythms in his chest, they betray his attempt to conceal the fourth observation.
CONTENT: 1.3k words, pining, confessions, attempt at humor, spoiler free, usopp being silly, mostly zoro pov bc is a fool in love and i LOVE THAT FOR HIM!! his emotional intelligence is also very developed here lol
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on chilly, sleepless nights, zoro strongly believes that he is simply not made to love. he aimlessly wanders under warm streetlights–tipsy on a cheap bottle of booze and an aching desire to alleviate the weight in his heart.
shit. i have no idea where i am. the throbbing in his head shifts from discomfort to irritation.
with a groan, the swordsman slumps to the closest bench, blades clashing while he throws his head back. in his intoxicated state, a soft sigh slips his lips upon marveling in fascination at the twinkling stars littering the dark sky. zoro’s right eye finally flutters to a close, allowing himself to relish in the brisk winds against his tanned skin.
he recalled asking usopp–who was on his way to his workshop–about his abnormal heightened heart rhythms yesterday. odd sensations plagued his mind, leaving him constantly distracted with a rapid pulse. the frustrated boy filled his crewmate in on his recent symptoms: constricting chest pain, clammy palms, and sudden waves of nausea—which happened to catch his attention.
“you pregnant?” usopp joked in amusement. “lucky for you, sir. i happen to know a very good doctor–” a loud smack interrupted his referral.
“seriously?” the vice captain heaved. “you’ll be on a first-name basis with every doctor in this town if you keep that up, usopp.” 
“why do you always pick on me?” usopp yelped, rubbing the back of his head in an attempt to soothe the sting left by zoro’s palm. “just go to chopper for help.”
“it’s not that big of a deal. jus’ tell me what you think.” 
“you try to help a man out for once, ‘nd this is what happens… “ although he had asked, zoro’s laid-back response went over his head as the pained boy continued to complain to himself. “i’m never being nice again—‘s never worked out for me once...” 
another stern threat from the green-haired man forces him to straighten his back. he cleared his throat loudly.
“alright now, mr. roronoa! doctor usopp would like to inquire when these symptoms first began.”
“dunno.” he mumbled impatiently, choosing to ignore the sniper’s antics. “from working out too hard the other day?” zoro followed the other boy as he stroked his chin–seemingly in deep thought. 
the latter suddenly whipped his head around, “now, would you consider that to be… irregular when you exercise?”
“dude. what kinda question is that.”
“c’mon, work with me here!” usopp whined. “a guy can’t have a little fun?” zoro let out a deep sigh in defeat as he continued to think back to what happened.
“well, i was finishing up my sets when y/n came in.” he gruffed. thump. “started talking ‘bout some book they read. don’t really know what they were on about, but they seemed all excited. made me start feeling all those… feelings again.”
“…alrightttt, i’ve heard enough! session’s over.”
zoro was met with a door slammed to his face as usopp seemed to reach his destination. 
“wha– hey! what the hell was that for?” he yelled, banging against the wood. 
“for a scary fellow, you sure are slowww, my friend!” the sharp shooter shouted back at him. he slowly opened the door again and, like a child, poked his head back out. zoro’s features twisted in bewilderment.
“what? what’s that supposed to mean?”
“it means! that doctor usopp is diagnosing you with a severe case of loooove-sickkkk-nessss!” he sounded out his assessment slowly. “your task? deep introspection.”
following his prognosis with a firm nod, he begins to shut the door again–though more carefully this time.
“you can do it, man!” a thumbs up is sent to the baffled man in front of him.. “i believe in you! sorta...”
“huh? usopp, don’t patronize me.”
“oops– 'nd i almost forgot,” his eye is now barely visible through the crack. “expect a bill for my services hehe. come again next time!”
zoro paused. lovesickness?
“there you are.” a gentle voice pulls him out of his daze. thump. instantly recognizing it to be yours, he grunts to acknowledge your presence to ease the intense beating in his chest.
“you following me now?” blinking, zoro makes the foolish mistake of allowing light to enter his vision again. finally adjusting to the brightness, a silhouette of your figure emerges above him as the starlit sky illuminates behind you. 
like a deity, he ponders to himself. after his conversation with usopp, the swordsman had chosen to fulfill his role as a good patient and decisively came to three conclusions about your presence in his life:
number one. you defy everything he has learned about before. 
it’s beyond his understanding of the world. no textbook, no mythology could begin to rationalize the absolute thrill it is to purely exist alongside you. from your thoughtful analyses of the most boring novels he couldn’t begin to understand, to the thorough, strategic plans you quickly conceptualized for the crew– you really were the type of person people wrote books about. thump.
number two. you are an ethereal warmth who yearns to be seen. 
and zoro would be an idiot to ignore you. if you were a religion, zoro would proudly accept whatever you preached as long as you were the one proclaiming it. such intelligence, kindness that is exerted from one being can be incredibly overwhelming, yet he could never entertain the thought of shying away from it. thump.
number three. you deserve more than what he can offer.
zoro may be slow, but he’d be exceptionally dumb to ignore the feelings he had harbored for you. he had an inkling, a sneaky suspicion even before he had confronted usopp about his symptoms. yes, maybe he loves you. maybe he longs to hold you close on cold nights like tonight. maybe he chooses to ignore the affects you had on him. and maybe it’s best to keep his sentiments tucked away to shield you from the burdens he carries. thump.
ah. yes. an unspoken fourth conclusion. he loves you. he doesn’t dare to speak it in existence.
“noticed you leave,” your concerned voice draws his attention again. you seemed to be good at doing that. “wanted to see if you were okay.” thump. there came that feeling again. the desire. the pining. the anguish.
“needed more booze. you should head back to the ship.” he deflects.
“and leave you?” you giggle quietly, bouncing your legs to adjust to the crisp air as you take a seat beside him. he doesn’t dare to move away from you, knees grazing each other shyly. “you barely know left from right.” 
for once, he snorts in amusement. thump. a stroke of confidence consumes him. silently shrugging off the jacket around his shoulders, the stoic fighter’s calloused hands move to wrap it around your frame. you lean into his tender touch. he decides it doesn’t hurt to rest his hand in the space behind you.
“thanks,” you murmur. “it’s so nice out right now. so peaceful.”
his breath accelerates. thump. you were so close. gentle puffs of your breath slip past your velvety lips, fading into the night. this was it, wasn’t it? perhaps he was still a bit intoxicated. toxins brewing in his system, yet they present an opportunity to do something about his feelings. make a move.
no, the alcohol is just an excuse. this was real. zoro can risk it. fuck the fourth conclusion. he could be selfish for once, right? thump.
“the moon is beautiful, isn’t it?” he exhales, punctuating each word with confidence. thump. thump.
he turns to steal a glance at your eyes to find they were already set on him.
“of course.” the corners of your lips twitch upward. thump. thump. thump. “it always has been.”
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NOTE: HI FRIENDS wanted to clarify for those of you who are unaware, "the moon is beautiful, isn't it?" is a poetic way of saying "i love you" in japanese. from my understanding and the way i use it here, the phrase emphasizes the importance of sharing the beauty of the night sky with another person. simply taking a moment to pause and connect under the same moon with someone you treasure. reader's response that the moon has always been beautiful therefore implies that they have, in fact, always loved zoro.
ANYWAYS THO lovestruck zoro has been on my mind A LOT these days so BOOM brain dump. i had two braincells and a dream. pls enjoy :D
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h4rring1on · 2 years
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hii!! could you please do one where eddie is fighting someone (probably jason) and reader tries to step in and stop him but ends up getting hurt? ty and i love ur writing :)
warnings: swearing, reader gets hurt and gets a bruise, eddie and jason fight, eddie is angry here
pairing: eddie munson x reader
ೃ༄*ੈ✩
you walked along the halls, book in your hand as you hummed to yourself while reading, suddenly, everyone in hall started leaving the school and crowding around something
furrowing your eyebrows, you closed your book and walked out, you pushed yourself into the crowd only to see eddie and jason fighting
jason grabbed eddie and tried to punch him but eddie avoided it, he then grabbed jason and punched him but jason wasn’t able to avoid it
“eddie!” you yelled to try and stop him, you hate to see him fighting someone, he ends up getting hurt and it wouldn’t even be worth it.
mike, one of the hellfire members held you back so you don’t do anything stupid. but you managed to slip away from his grip and ran to the middle of the fight, jason was about to hit eddie, but to your unfortunate luck, you got the hit right to your eye
you fell back and eddie grabbed jason and punched him way harder than before, making him fall to the ground
“motherfucker!” eddie yelled and punched him again
mike held you up and gripped you harder than before so you don’t run back, dustin also ran to you and saw your face, his eyes widening at the sight of the little specks of blood that consumed the white part of your eye
“shit” he muttered
“let me go!” you yelled, you pushed dustin back and pushed mike away as well, jeff, who was trying to pull eddie away saw you, you joined him and it took all your strength to finally pull eddie off jason
the rest of the jocks grabbed jason and took him away
eddie glared at jason with his heart rate still increasing, the crowd soon left and eddie paced around to try and calm himself. he then stopped in his place when he remembered what happened, he walked over to you and grabbed your face but you turned away
“show me” he said as soft as he could, with his breathing still quite fast, “i said show me” he said in a much more stern tone
you slowly turned your head to reveal your eye, the little droplets of blood scattered around the white part of your eye, and a bit of bruising starting to appear
“i’m going to kill him” he muttered and began to walk away
“eddie” you weakly said, he stopped in his place and turned to you, “please” you slowly shook your head
he knew how much you hated it when he fought, how hurt he’d get, how much it worried you what would happen if you didn’t stop him, so he resisted on going and instead stayed with you
before the teachers would come, he grabbed your hand and pulled you away with him as you both ran to the middle of the woods, you two then sat down
you sat down on his lap, staring at his face with such hurt in yours.
“what is it?” he softly asked
you shook your head and muttered a small nothing, your hands rised up to his face, you held it as you kept staring at the blood, the cuts, everything.
he gently gripped your wrist, a look of guilt on his face
“i’m sorry i let you get hurt” he said
“eddie—that’s—that’s not it” you said and looked down, he held your face up from your chin so you can look back at him.
once he saw you again, he saw the tears streaming down your rosy cheeks, “baby” he whispered
“you got hurt, eddie” you said, “you got hurt” you repeated at a lower volume
“i’m okay” he said
“no eddie you’re not—your face is all messed up now, i told you not to do this again”
“i know, i know” he gently nodded, “i tried to stop it but he just kept on trying to fuel me—and it worked”
you sighed and fiddled with your hands
“but hey, i’m okay now, sweetheart. i’m okay. i promise” he reassured, wiping your tears with his thumb
you nodded and pressed your head against his chest, he wrapped his arms around you and hugged you tight, as a way of telling you that he’s okay now.
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strangersmunsons · 4 months
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read 'em and weep #3
you and Eddie spend more time together. romance blossoms.
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Chapter 3 Eddie x Bookworm!Reader Series Read Ch. 2 -> Here!
Contains: Eddie x Reader, fem!bookworm!reader, lowkey shy!reader, new love and giddiness all around, and a brief cameo from Steve. Warnings: mentions of food/eating. Word Count: 5.5k this took me sooo, ridiculously long to finish. work, writer's block, etc kept getting in the way! hopefully this is okay. i've spent far too much time at this point editing & second-guessing everything, i finally just had to stop overthinking & post!
You’re lying on your bed, nearly dozing when the telephone on your nightstand starts ringing shrilly.
The shock of it startles you from your half-sleep, and you blearily push yourself upright from the prone position. One hand smashes into the pages of the magazine you’d been skimming through, which slips forward on the soft bed covers.
Too comfy to really want to move, you stretch over and clumsily pick up the phone, bringing it up to your ear. “Hello?”
“Hey, it’s Eddie,” says the voice on the other end. There’s a fuzziness around the edge of his words as they crackle through the speaker.
It’s not the first time he’s rang you at this hour, but a thrill still shoots through you at the sound of his voice. “Hi.”
Eddie has quickly become a fixture in your life over the past few weeks. Your friendship continued to blossom with each visit he paid you at the library, where he gave you live updates on his reading progress, not even bothering to wait until he was finished before sharing his opinions. He was nice, and funny, and you became increasingly fond of him.
Then one day, while he was chatting your ear off about something or other, it hit you: you think Eddie’s pretty. His face is sculpted but soft, everything just looks so soft. The rounded chin and cheeks, the bulbous tip of his nose that looks like the perfect place to plant a tiny kiss…
He had kept on talking, but you could hardly hear what he was saying. Suddenly all you could focus on was the prickly warmth creeping up the back of your neck and into your ears. It was reminiscent of a feeling you’d had once or twice before around him, but this time it came in swinging. And finally, you could see it for what it really was. Oh.
“Did I wake you up? Sorry, I know it’s kinda late.”
“No, I was still up.”
You sound a bit groggy, but if Eddie notices, he doesn’t mention it. “Okay, good. How are you?”
“I’m alright. How are you?”
“I’m alright,” he echoes back wryly. “How was your day? Did you have to work?”
“Yes, I did. It was good.” You reconsider, an uncomfortable moment spent with your boss flashing back to you, and grimace. “Mostly, anyway. How was your day?”
“Listen, don’t worry about me yet, I’m trying to ask about you. Tell me about your day, why was it only mostly good?”
Eddie seems to have a knack for that; saying things that make your heart flutter in a very nonchalant way, like it’s no big deal. You’re glad this conversation is over the phone, so he can’t see the dopey look on your face.
“Well…” You bite your lip. “It’s not a big deal, but do you know the librarian at all?”
“Marissa? Unfortunately. She’s kind of a bitch.”
“Yeah, she is. And today she overheard me telling another clerk what I have planned for Story Time this weekend, and she doesn’t like it. So she got kind of nasty with me.”
“Why? Are you reading something very inappropriate?”
“I want to read them this Dr. Seuss book, Bartholomew and the Oobleck, do you remember that one? And then for the craft period, we’ll make the oobleck. It’s really easy, just cornstarch and water. But she’s saying that I shouldn’t do it because it’s going to make too much of a mess.”
“Oobleck is supposed to be a really thick slime, right? The whole point is that it gets everywhere and they can’t get rid of it?”
“Well, yeah,” you admit. “So she might actually have a point.”
“Are you kidding?” he replies brightly. “They’ll love that shit. You should do it anyway, I think that’s a sick idea.”
“Thank you.” There’s a touch of pride in your voice. You really do try your best to come up with fun and interesting things for the kids. Encouraging them to read and sparking their creativity is all you ever hope for. “I also think it’s a great opportunity to teach them all about non-Newtonian fluids.”
Eddie barks out a laugh, and it digs sharply into your ear.
“You’re funny sometimes, you know that?”
You were being serious, but if it means you’re making Eddie laugh, then you suppose you’ll take it.
He continues without waiting for an answer. “If you need help cleaning up after, I can be around for that, since I don’t work until later.”
Immediately, your brain conjures up visions of green goo splattering everywhere, getting stuck to the low tables and entrenching itself into the carpet. You can’t bring yourself to inflict that upon him. “That’s awfully sweet of you, but you absolutely do not have to do that,” you reassure him.
“I’ll be there,” he says firmly.
“No!”
“I wanna play with the oobleck. I’ll be there.”
“Fine,” you concede with a laugh. “I won’t argue with that.” There’s a warm pause, mutual affection running through the miles of telephone wire connecting the two of you. You fiddle with a small pilled spot on the bedspread. “So how’s the latest book coming along?”
“Well,” he heaves out with a great sigh, “I finally finished Left Hand of Darkness, which was really good. I can’t say I liked it better than Earthsea, but I enjoyed it. I get why you like it so much.” 
“Comes down to personal preference. I’ve never met a bigger fantasy nerd than you, so Earthsea would be tough competition.”
“For my own sake, I’m choosing to take that as a compliment. Oh, and Genly and Estraven definitely had sex when they were alone on the ice together. I don’t care if they say otherwise.”
“Oh, they totally did!” you concur with a giggle.
“They were definitely kemmering, or whatever it is you’re supposed to call it. Anyway, I’m on to Geek Love now, and frankly, I’m shocked that you recommended this to me.”
“Why? You don’t like it?” It is a little grotesque, but you thought he’d be into that.
“No, I do. But I just can’t believe that a sweet thing like you would read a book like this.”
Your cheeks flood with heat as the word bounces around your head. Sweet, sweet, sweet — he thinks I’m sweet. “I like all kinds of books,” you mumble, and mentally kick yourself for not coming up with something more flirtatious to say back. The banter came a little more easily before you realized just how much you like him.
“So I’ve gathered.”
“Just you wait. I’ll have you reading the Brontës in no time.”
He huffs in disbelief. “Right. That’s likely.” He clears his throat. “Hey, um, can I ask you something?” There’s an edge to his voice you’re not used to hearing. 
“Shoot.”
“Do you wanna come and hang out at my place this weekend? We could get food and watch a movie, like Lord of the Rings or something, if you still wanted to see it. Or we can go to the video store and pick something out. You can choose.”
So far, Eddie’s only ever come to visit you at the library. The prospect of spending time with him alone — truly alone, without coworkers and patrons lurking just around the corner — makes your heart hammer dizzyingly against your ribs. You keep your answer simple. “Yes. I would like that.”
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“Awesome.”
Wayne can hear one side of the discussion drifting through the trailer when he comes home, kicking his work boots off and leaving them by the door. Halfway across the living room he spies his nephew in the kitchen, and his eyebrows shoot up at the state of him.
Eddie’s leaning with his back against the wall, the phone held in place between his cheek and his shoulder. One ringed hand is twirling the phone cord around his finger as he speaks in a low voice, goofy grin plastered on his face.
They make eye contact across the trailer. Eddie immediately straightens up and tries to neutralize his expression.
Wayne snorts out a laugh.
“So, um, so anyway—“ Eddie fumbles with the phone “— does six o’clock work?” He turns to the side in a poor attempt to muffle the conversation. 
Wayne steps into the kitchen and tosses his jacket and lunchbox across the table. He makes a kissy-face at Eddie.
Eddie gives him the finger.
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The day Eddie is meant to see you takes forever to arrive. However, as he stares at his reflection in his dresser mirror, he starts to feel like maybe it actually came way too quickly.
He’d spent the past half-hour wildly picking through his closet, combing his hair with his fingers, trying to figure out how he should present himself as more and more clothing gets flung around the room. Eventually he gave up on his hair, and came up with an ensemble he liked, but would you like it? Would you like him?
To the untrained eye, Eddie is wearing his standard Eddie-uniform: tight black pants and a band t-shirt. On the surface, it’s a regular outfit for him. But if one is a truly acute observer, they should clearly be able to see that there are subtle variations within this basic framework he’s donning that scream “Eddie Munson is Trying to Impress a Girl!”
His ripped jeans have tears that expose swaths of skin not just on his knees, but his thighs as well (scandalous!) and he’s wearing his coolest Slayer t-shirt, the one that he ripped the sleeves off of so that his tattooed arms are on full display. And it’s just loose enough so that when he leans forward, the fabric gives way so you can catch a glimpse of his chest, with its sparse hair and winking nipple ring.
It’s all very deliberate.
But as much as Eddie doesn’t want to admit it, he’s nervous. While he becomes increasingly enamored of you, unable to keep the sly compliments and saccharine terms of endearment from slipping out, you get more shy. He still hasn’t figured out if that’s a good or bad sign.
Both of you seem to be hovering in romantic limbo, tiptoeing along the fine line between friendship and flirtation. Playful and insecure. Tender and uncertain. Was your puckish rapport a new experience, or were you like that with every person you met? Did you like it when he phoned you late at night and called you honey and sweetheart, or were you just too polite to correct him? Did you hold his name and face in your soft heart when he wasn’t right there next to you, like he did yours?
He’d chickened out at the last minute, dancing around the word ‘date.’
Eddie could be smooth on occasion, sure. But it was different when you knew you didn’t actually have a shot in hell with the person you were talking to. He didn’t have to be afraid of rejection when he already knew it was coming.
Like, he could flirt and wink at Chrissy Cunningham all he wanted and invite her to the Hideout because he knew full-well that she was never really going to show up to watch his band play — let alone dump her boyfriend to go out with him. So he could ham it up, make a fool of himself, and then shrug it all off when nothing happened.
Only a few girls had ever taken him up on his offers. And they always ended up being private affairs; nobody wanted to risk being seen out at dinner with Eddie Munson. Instead there were quick and clumsy trysts in the back of his van or in the woods behind the school, and he was reduced to a novelty notch in the bedpost, a secret for them to whisper about at slumber parties, the eponymous who of a giggly “Guess who I hooked up with!” 
It took Eddie a minute to catch on. He remembers the first time, when he hooked up with a girl at a party he was dealing at during his junior year. The next school day, he tried approaching her in the hallway as she chatted with a fellow cheerleader, and she quite literally turned on her heel and ran — but not without shooting him a look of such intense disdain that it made Eddie physically flinch. Her friend snapped her locker shut, and snickered knowingly at Eddie before following suit.
He won’t lie, that one stung. He’d stood there in mild shock at being brushed off so harshly, while other students milled about, completely oblivious to his distress; someone deliberately knocked their shoulder into his as they passed by, causing the handle of his lunchbox to slip out from his sweaty fist. It fell to the floor with a loud clang that echoed about his ears.
Eddie had already had a pretty good idea of what other people thought of him, but boy, did it really sink in that day.
It set the framework for what his love life would look like for the rest of high school. Which maybe wouldn’t have been so horrible to deal with, if only he hadn’t been in high school for two years longer than he’d expected to be.
So he leaned into it. It was really the only thing he could do, and hey, at least it meant that he could get some every now and then. What did it matter if they refused to make eye contact with him the next day? He didn’t need all that relationship mess, anyway. He didn’t care.
He didn’t care, he didn’t care, he didn’t care — if he tried to tell himself that one more time he was going to explode.
In reality Eddie’s a pretty lonely guy. But since meeting you? He’s hopeful for the first time in a long time that maybe his life doesn’t have to be that way.
Eddie raps on your front door with his fist, biting the inside of his cheek. Pizza and movies. Easy breezy. There has never been a more relaxed person than you, ever, he thinks, buzzing with nervous energy.
After a moment the door swings open. “Hi,” you greet him, stepping out onto the welcome mat, tugging at the shoulder strap of your purse. 
“Hey,” he responds with an easy smile on his lips, one that doesn’t betray his anxiety. He gives you an approving once-over and lets out a low whistle. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”
And you really are. He’s never seen you in anything but your work clothes, so he appreciates this chance to see you in an outfit that’s true to your style. 
You let out an embarrassed chuckle and wave a hand at him. “Oh, please.” 
“No, I’m serious! You look very nice.”
You can hardly meet his gaze, a flustered grin forming on your own face. “Thank you. So do you.”
He shrugs modestly, but his dimples show. He gestures to where his van sits parked by the curb. “Shall we?”
The interior of the van is plush and blue and smells of tobacco and something vaguely minty. Eddie insists on running around the vehicle so he can open the passenger-side door for you, and holds out his arm for you to grasp while you climb in; an unexpected act of chivalry.
“Wow, I’m getting the full VIP treatment here, aren’t I?” you ask him jokingly as you clamber onto the seat.
“Get used to it, sweetheart. I may not look it, but I’m a gentleman of the highest caliber.”
“I’m sure you are. I’ll bet Emily Post writes to you for etiquette tips.”
Eddie turns the engine on, and music starts blaring from the speakers. He quickly turns the volume down, shooting you an apologetic look. “Sorry. I, uh, I like it loud.” He gestures to a shoebox tucked away on the floor by your feet. “There’s a bunch of other tapes in there, you can pick a different one if you like.”
You’re delighted to realize that you have an opportunity to tease him. You tilt your head up, lips pouting as though you’re deep in thought. “Okay. Let's say I pull out a different tape.”
Eddie looks at you quizzically, but plays along. “Okay. Let’s say you do.” 
“Now, hypothetically, I would do this because I want to hear something different from what’s playing currently. Right?”
“Right…”
You reach into the box and pull out the first tape you make contact with, and end up with the latest W.A.S.P. album. You cock an eyebrow at him while you hold out the tape for him to see. “So riddle me this: what are the chances that this album — or any of these albums, for that matter — sound any different from what you’re playing right now?”
Eddie attempts to stifle a laugh and fails. “Hey now,” he says, trying to sound stern, “there is something incredibly special and nuanced about every single tape in that box. I would never deign to compare Ride the Lightning to The Headless Children. Completely different. Worlds apart, in fact.”
You shrug, pleased with yourself. “If you say so. You would know better than me.”
“I’m gonna teach you how to be metal,” he promises, peering over his shoulder as he backs out onto the street.
You continue rifling around in his box of tapes. “Do you really think I could be? My job is reading picture books to preschoolers.”
“Totally. There’s nothing more metal than the public library.”
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The first stop you and Eddie make is at his favorite local pizza joint, where he insists on paying for dinner himself — he wouldn’t even let you throw a dollar in the tip jar. The shop is conveniently located in the same strip mall as the Family Video, so after putting your order in, the two of you cross the road to browse for a movie while you wait.
When you enter the store, you’re greeted by the little tinkling sound of bells and a bored ‘Welcome’ from the employee seated at the counter.
The cashier is cute — not as cute as Eddie, you think — and probably about the same age. When he finally looks up from the counter and sees the two of you together, his eyebrows shoot up in surprise before furrowing again as he makes eye contact with Eddie.
The two boys stare at each other in mutual distaste. He nods coolly at Eddie. “Munson.”
Eddie’s reply is flat. “Harrington.”
As you approach the counter, the employee’s name tag comes into view: Steve. 
Eddie strides past him and doesn’t stop, even when Steve calls out to his retreating back —
“You still haven’t brought back Spinal Tap!”
“I know,” Eddie replies, not bothering to turn around.
You follow Eddie across the store, skimming through the colorful titles. He stops abruptly in the middle of an aisle, and you bump softly into his back.
He gives you an amused smirk from over his shoulder. “Easy there.”
“Sorry,” you reply, giving him a little smile that’s all too apologetic for his liking. He can’t resist the urge to reach out and take your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze before letting go again.
You beam at him.
“So what are we feeling?” he asks, feeling needlessly scrambled at the brief but lingering affection. “Something scary? Funny?” He bats his eyelashes dramatically. “Romantic?” 
Your response is automatic. “Whatever you want is fine with me.”
Eddie frowns at you. “I told you, it’s your choice. I already picked out a two-hour cartoon.”
He’s being very sweet. But you want to pick something that he’ll enjoy, too.
Acting on a little tip from your new friend Steve the Cashier, you ask Eddie —
“So you like Rob Reiner movies, huh?”
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Eddie slaps The Princess Bride down on the counter in front of Steve. 
“Nice vest,” he comments.
Steve shoots him a dirty look. “Your late fees are gonna pile up.”
Eddie ignores this.
Steve sighs and begins the checkout process. Eddie can’t help noticing Steve casting you sidelong glances, his eyes flitting up and down your figure appreciatively. 
Eddie clears his throat pointedly.
“Here.” Steve pushes the film back over the counter.
Eddie grabs it and heads for the door without saying anything; you, confused and a little put off by the attitude, offer Steve your most polite “Thank you!” before scurrying out after him. 
Eddie holds the door for you when exiting, a pleasant expression on his face that’s a stark contrast from the one he wore when talking to Steve. When you’re both back outside, you can’t help but wonder what that cashier ever did to him.
“I take it you’re not a fan of Steve from Family Video?” you press.
Eddie looks sheepish. “You caught that, huh?”
“It was kind of hard to miss.”
He hesitates. “Well, we went to school together, and he wasn’t very nice. Let’s leave it at that.”
You simply nod, understanding his reluctance to say more. Reliving your high school trauma isn’t exactly something you’re interested in right now, either.
As you and Eddie head back across the street, your swinging arms cause your hands to brush against one another. After a moment’s hesitation, he clasps your hand in his, and your fingers intertwine, like two puzzle pieces clicking into place.
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Eddie starts the drive home, and he feels a wave of apprehension.
He told you he lived in Forest Hills early on, and you didn’t bat an eyelash. But with you being so new in town, he wasn’t really sure that you even knew it was a trailer park.
It’s not that he’s embarrassed, exactly, or even that he thinks you’ll really mind — nothing you’ve said to him thus far indicated that his economic status would bother you — but being called trailer trash as many times as he has…well, it’s enough to make anyone defensive.
By the time he pulls up to the Munson trailer, he still hasn’t dared to look across the cab to see your reaction. “Well, here we are!” he exclaims in a hearty voice that doesn’t match what he’s feeling inside at all.
While you fumble between unbuckling your seatbelt and balancing the pizza box on your lap, Eddie darts out of the van so he can help you climb out again. When he opens the door he’s relieved to see that you don’t seem phased by your surroundings; you flash him the same happy smile you always do, and it gives him a boost of confidence.
Hopping up the porch steps, he unlocks the rickety front door and gestures for you to enter, bowing slightly. “After you, miss.”
You curtsey back. “Thank you, sir.”
Eddie pretends that that has less of an effect on him than it actually does.
Inside, he watches you peer around the trailer in interest. He’s glad that he did a deep-clean yesterday: there’s no clothes hanging over the furniture, any garbage he could find was bagged up and taken out, and he wiped down all the flat surfaces with the lemon-y spray cleaner that lives beneath the sink. He even dumped out all the ashtrays; when Wayne saw that, he commented that he must really like this girl.
“That’s a lot of mugs,” you comment, looking admiringly at the shelves that display years of Wayne’s little hobby. “I’m impressed.”
“They’re my uncle’s,” says Eddie as he kicks off his shoes. “I keep telling him he’s got a problem.”
“No, they’re great,” you insist. “Everybody collects something. Don’t you?”
Eddie pauses, hovering by the boxy television. “I guess so. Music. D and D shit.” He sets the pizza down on the coffee table. “Here, have a seat. I’ll get us some plates.” 
Eddie walks to the kitchen and starts rifling through the cabinets for some paper plates and napkins. You call out to him from your seat on the worn sofa. “Is your uncle working right now?”
“Yeah.” Eddie pads back into the living room. “He works a lot of night shifts.”
“Are all Munsons generally nocturnal?” you ask, referring to his bartending gig at The Hideout, a job that keeps him busy well into the night.
Eddie chuckles as crouches by the coffee table, pulling off two slices of greasy pizza and laying one on each plate. “I guess you could say that,” he says, handing you your share. Brown eyes find yours and he nudges your knee with his elbow playfully. “But it leaves me free to come and bother you at work during the day, doesn’t it?”
You dig the toe of your sock into the rug and look down at the food instead of him. “I wouldn’t call you a bother.”
His full lips turn up at the corners. “You wouldn’t?” He rests his hand on your leg, and his fingers swirl a gentle pattern over your skin.
You swallow. “No.” The word comes out subdued and breathy.
Eddie doesn’t move, but stays positioned by your knee, staring up at you. “Look at me again,” he says softly, leaning in a little closer.
You do as he asks and it’s almost too much. His eyes are huge and warm and they look like everything you’ve ever wanted.
A few seconds tick by, and then the phone rings and Eddie’s standing up again, whatever momentary spell the two of you were under, broken.
“Hang on,” he says, face tinged pink.
You settle back into the sofa and squirm, feeling feverish. 
Eddie wrenches the phone off the hook in annoyance. “Hello?” When the person on the other line answers, he huffs and rolls his eyes, turning away so his back is towards you. Still, you catch snippets of the exchange:
“Henderson, I said tomorrow, okay?” Eddie hisses in aggravation. “No, I don’t care if you don’t wanna do it in the morning, man. I’ve gotta work tomorrow night. You guys either come early or it’s not happening.”
You watch him curiously.
“Suck it up.” Eddie pauses to listen to the person speak again, and turns and glances at you across the trailer. Then his tone becomes noticeably gentler. “Thanks, man. I’ll let you know. See ya.”
He hangs up the phone with a sigh, and his face relaxes into a smile again.
He strolls back into the living room and claps his ringed hands together. “So! Are you ready to experience a cinematic masterpiece?”
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Some three hours later, you and Eddie are slumped back against the worn cushions, now one and half movies deep. Over the course of the night you’ve slowly closed the distance between your bodies, so his leg is pressed against yours. Eddie has one arm slung over the back of the couch, fingers dancing just above the skin of your collarbone. Both of you are stuffed to the gills, and more than a little sleepy. Even Eddie, who kept up a stream of commentary during Lord of the Rings, eager to discuss his favorite bits of Middle Earth lore with you, is tuckered out.
Shenanigans play out on the television screen. You let out a huge yawn. 
Eddie’s arm curls around your shoulder, hand digging into the meat of your bicep, pulling you closer to him. “This okay?” he murmurs.
You nod clumsily and start fidgeting, your hands twisting in your lap. 
Eddie says your name softly. You hum in acknowledgement. 
“I really like you. And I think you like me.” He cocks his head to the side. “Is that right?”
Your heart throbs.
“Yes,” you whisper.
“Okay,” he whispers back. “Can I kiss you then, sweetheart?”
You nod; Eddie leans in slowly, then presses his lips to yours for a moment before pulling back again. It’s quick, chaste and sweet, and not nearly enough. Your hands find his face, palms landing on both his cheeks so you can bring his mouth back to yours.
He’s happy to oblige. 
Eddie sighs, tongue dipping into your mouth, deepening the kiss. One hand cups the back of your head, keeping you right where he wants you. The other snakes around your thigh, and he uses the leverage to abruptly pull you up and over his lap. A small “Oh!” of surprise escapes you at the jolt, but Eddie wastes no time in securing his mouth to yours again.
His kisses are wet, heady, and grow increasingly frantic as the two of you clutch at each other. Your hands weave into his hair — a longtime fantasy of yours come true at last — and he lets out a soft moan when your fingers tug gently at the tangled tresses. 
Your skin feels tingly, sensitive, alight at every little touch he gives you. Your head is full of nothing but Eddie, the way he looks and feels and smells, and the way he makes you feel, like a shaken-up pop bottle, full of pink fizz and ready to burst.
Eddie suddenly laughs against your lips, smiling into another kiss.
You pull back hastily, self-consciously. But he looks jubilant, cheeks dimpled in joy, chocolate eyes crinkled at the outer corners.
“Sorry,” he says breathlessly, “it’s just — I couldn’t tell — I wasn’t really sure where your head was at.” He kisses the tip of your nose. “You kept gettin’ quiet on me all of a sudden.”
You let your head fall forward, forehead pressing into his shoulder, and let out a tiny groan. “I know. I’m sorry, it wasn’t you.”
You lift your head back up and face him. “I’m not usually very good at this stuff,” you admit. “Connecting with people. It’s harder, when you’re introverted…and have different interests. But you were so easy to talk to when we met! And I was so excited to make a new friend, but I…,” you trail off.
“But you what?” he prompts.
“The more I looked at you the cuter I thought you were.” The words come out in a rush. “When I realized what was happening I got nervous.”
Eddie waggles his eyebrows at you suggestively. “Oh, something’s happening?” 
You swat at him playfully.
“I’m kidding!” He rubs your shoulders soothingly. “But you don’t have to be nervous around me. I’m just some guy, y’know?”
“You, Eddie Munson, are certainly not just some guy.”
“Aw, shucks, sweetheart. You’re makin’ me blush.”
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The movie has long since ended, and a peaceful darkness settles over the trailer. The only sound is the chirp of the summer crickets outside and quiet breathing.
Eddie’s fully sprawled out over the couch with you nestled in his arms. It took some coaxing, but eventually he convinced you to lay on top of him, your warm weight better than any blanket, the sweet fragrance of your perfume soothing his senses. Your face is half-hidden in the crook of his neck, and he presses a kiss to the top of your head.
“I have a confession to make,” he says sleepily.
“Ooh. It better be something juicy.”
“It is. Excellent gossip. You can tell all your friends, I won’t even be mad.”
“Let’s hear it.”
“I scoped you out at the library,” he admits. “I came in that day specifically to talk to you. Y’know, turn on that Munson charm, and sweep you off your feet, and all that.”
“Really?” You blink, trying to jog your memory. “I don’t remember ever seeing you before that.” You think of his tousled hair and clunky jewelry. “And you’re pretty memorable.”
“Well, there’s a slight chance that I, um, ducked, and hid behind a shelf when you got close. It was the Saturday right before we met, after you did your reading.”
That recalls something for you. “Wait, wait, maybe I do remember…” It’s hazy. Pale face, brown hair? You can’t quite place this person as Eddie, but it must have been him. “I think I did see you creeping around.”
“What can I say? Your story telling enthralled me.” 
It’s the truth. He’d been browsing for a Clive Barker book when he caught sight of you in the children’s area. You read We’re Going on a Bear Hunt with an enthusiasm usually reserved for trained Shakespearean actors, and it left him undeniably impressed. 
You cuddle closer to him, burying your face in his chest. “I’m glad you decided to nut up and talked to me.”
He smiles against your hair. “Me too.”
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Early the next morning, in the hazy gray-blue dawn, the front door opens quietly — cautiously even. Wayne’s not sure what he’ll be walking into. All he knows is that his nephew really likes this girl, and that for Eddie’s sake he hopes that his date went well. He’s not sure how much more disappointment the boy can take. He wants to see him happy.
So he’s pleasantly surprised to see you and Eddie piled up on the couch like two puppies, fast asleep and — thank Christ — fully-clothed. Eddie’s arm is slung over you protectively, his soft snores just barely audible. 
Good for him.
And if they wanna sleep in the living room, that’s fine. 
Wayne’s gonna take the bed.
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thank you for reading!! <3 taglist: @eddiesgirlforever, @eds6ngel, @sheisahauntedhouse, @lokis-tardis-companion19, @teary-eyed-egg, @whenshelanded, @nanaminswhore, @witchwolflea
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rebouks · 2 months
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She knew-.. Robin was sure of it.
Despite her warmth, he’d always been slightly unnerved by aunt Alma’s presence; there was something odd about her that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Some people were harder to read than others, like Alex, but it was still possible.
Alma’s mind was like an impenetrable vault in comparison. Any attempts to feel or hear anything she did were met with a metaphorical brick wall, leaving him reeling as though he’d collided with it head first-.. but not tonight. Tonight, Alma was like an open book, and Robin was convinced she was doing it on purpose.
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She’d told him all about her struggles as a child; how she didn’t fit in, how people teased her for being too sensitive, how hard it was to figure out who she was amongst the clamour of everyone else’s inner most image of themselves-.. all the while allowing him unlimited access to those very memories, like a handpicked blooper reel, just for him. Of course, that wasn’t the case though.. was it?
Alma had stopped talking now, but Robin still wasn’t sure how to react. He sat in silence instead, staring at nothing in particular for far longer than what could be considered normal.
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“Can you hear me?” he thought, deciding to try a little experiment.
Nothing. Okay, so she couldn’t read his mind-.. then what the heck was she getting at? How had she so succinctly summed up his entire existence in less than fifteen minutes?
“I would’ve liked somewhere as quiet as this when I was young, it’s a shame we didn’t have an attic…” Alma offered, clearly trying to relate to Robin’s situation in any way she could. He still wasn’t entirely sure why, but she clearly wanted to help, and Robin didn’t know anyone else who understood him as well as she did, so perhaps he ought to let her try. He finally abandoned his switch and cautiously joined her atop his favourite, motheaten couch.
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“What’re you getting at?” he said bluntly, curiosity getting the better of his manners. Alma chuckled softly, “You’re just like your father.” “It’s genetics, apparently…” Robin let loose a brief grin, glad to be compared to Oscar.
“I don’t know how exactly, but you’re different, Robin-.. and I thought it high time you knew you weren’t alone, and that we can’t let these things get the best of us.” Alma smiled softly as she spoke, but Robin was still too wary to be completely transparent. “We?” he asked, dubiously. “We’re few and far between, but you’re certainly not the only one who’s a little.. special, shall we say? That’s better than different, maybe?” Alma suggested.
Robin hummed thoughtfully, shaking his head, “Special is just another word for different, or weird.” Alma scoffed playfully, “And what’s wrong with being weird? I’m weird-.. we’re all a bit weird!”
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“How’re you weird?” Robin asked, squinting at Alma accusingly. “Well, I can sense things I certainly shouldn’t be able to.” Alma started, excited to be getting somewhere. “Emotions radiate from people like a space heater-.. they’re not always pleasant, of course, but I can soak them up if I want to.”
Robin blinked, “Only if you want to..?” “Uh-huh.” Alma nodded. “You can block it out?!” Robin spluttered, suddenly and completely forgetting to maintain his ignorance before swiftly correcting himself. “I mean-.. it sounds like you can pick and choose, right?”
Alma nodded once more, “It wasn’t easy, but I spent a lot of years practicing.” “Years?” Robin sounded crestfallen. “I didn’t have a mentor…” Alma winked.
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Robin allowed himself to smirk, figuring he might as well drop at least part of the act at this point. He was still a little nervous about being approached about such things so brazenly, but at least he knew why Alma perturbed him so much now, she was blocking him out on purpose-.. and she couldn’t read his mind either, which was always a plus.
The last thing he wanted was for anyone to know that he possessed that particular ability. Who’d want to hang out with someone who could access their inner most thoughts, the one’s they’d never dream of saying out loud? He shuddered involuntarily, hoping he’d never meet anyone that could read his.
Clementine finally nudged Robin, dragging him back to the present with her ghostly touch. “She looked right at me just then-.. she smiled! Did you see?” Robin spun around, realising that Alma had almost begun her descent. He must’ve missed her goodbye. “Wait!”
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Alma paused expectantly, causing Robin to second guess himself and retreat into silence. “I won’t be far, sweetheart-.. whenever you’re ready.” Robin shivered as Clementine poked him again, “She can definitely see me…” “Can you, uh-…”
“See the ghost poking you?” Alma giggled, sounding far younger than she was. The vault doors had snapped shut again by now, but Robin got the impression that aunt Alma was just as excited as he was to find someone else who was weird. “Can you hear her?”
“Maybe-.. though I’m quite sure she hasn’t said anything yet.” Alma peered at Clementine expectantly. “Hey!” Clementine exclaimed as Robin tried to shove her into action, his hand ending up halfway through her waist instead.
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“What? It’s not like you can feel it.” Robin snorted. Alma laughed heartily, thoroughly amused. “Well, I heard that-.. you two are good friends, huh?”
Robin nodded slightly, releasing a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding. “I thought I was the only one who could see her-.. that maybe I was going insane…” “Far from it, honey! You hit me up whenever you feel like it, okay?”
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riordanness · 3 months
Text
safe and sound — [w.wonka]
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wordcount: 1.2K
warnings: anxiety and depression implied
requested: no
Some days were bad. Some days were unbearable. Today was the absolute hardest and worst of all.
I sit on my bed, legs drawn up to my chest, trying to breathe. My chest feels too tight, too unwilling to allow air through to my lungs. My breaths come in short, painful gasps.
I have panic attacks a little too often, but recently they’ve been getting worse. Almost every night I end up like this, the long day of much-too-hard-work and pretending everything is fine coming to a crumbling heap in my secluded space in the darkness.
Even Noodle doesn’t know, and we tell each other everything. She’s like a little sister to me, being the only one even remotely near my age.
I close my eyes, leaning my head back against the wall. I try to even my breathing, but it’s so, so hard. I know I can’t keep going on like this. I need help, desperately.
I get to my feet, a little unsteady. What if I go and just ask? I’m fairly close to everyone here; surely they’d be willing to help me? Surely Noodle or Piper would be able to help me calm down enough to fall asleep tonight—my biggest struggle at the moment.
Then, suddenly, an idea comes to me. What about Willy?
The young chocolate maker has only been here a few months, but we’re grown fairly close. He tells me stories about all his travels while we work in the washrooms, and in return, I am telling him stories from books; teaching him to read and write.
He is only a year or so older than me, if I’m correct in thinking that my birthday must have passed by now, and that I am now eighteen years old.
If I’m being honest, he’s kind of become my best friend. No offence to Noodle of course, I adore her, but it’s different with Willy. He understands me so naturally, so easily. Every time we talk it flows smoother than the chocolates Willy makes for me to try, and I never run out of things to say.
I subconsciously run my hands through my hair, and brush down my nightgown’s skirts. I gently push open my door, peeking out, and stepping out into the corridor as quietly as I can.
Willy’s door is only three down from mine, so I’m there in no time. I stand outside for a moment, suddenly nervous. But then I softly open it, swinging the door open.
It’s very dark in Willy’s room, just like it is in all the rooms overnight. There’s no reliable lighting at all, so everyone sleeps in total darkness, even Noodle, who I know is scared of the dark. She sleeps with her door open.
Willy doesn’t have a curtain, however, so the nights when the moonlight is good are washed with a little lighting.
I step around the door, gingerly shutting it behind me. I can only see a tiny outline of Willy, sleeping peacefully in his bed. A sliver of moonlight falls on his face, a singular curl on his forehead.
I don’t want to disturb him, but my heart still beats way too fast; and I know his presence and touch will immediately ease my scattered thoughts.
“Willy?” I whisper, almost too quiet to even hear it myself.
But somehow, impossibly, he stirs. He drags himself
to his elbows. “Y/n?” he asks into the dark. “Are you okay? Did something happen?”
I’m about to shake my head, but instantly, I feel the hard lump growing in my throat again, and my chest tightening up. I start to cry, and even though it’s silent, Willy is immediately up and at my side, holding my face in both his hands.
“Hey, hey, hey,” he hushes. “It’s okay. It’s okay, sweetheart. Don’t cry, please don’t cry.”
I can’t stop though, and his sweet words only make the tears come faster. It’s like my body is forcing all the worry and anxiety out of me, but the only way to do that is to cry.
I jolt forward and clutch at Willy, hugging him around the middle so tight I’m almost scared I’ll hurt him. His arms hold me just as securely, though. Willy, without me having to say anything, just instinctively stays quiet as he holds me. My face is buried in his white shirt, my tears probably wetting it through, but he doesn’t mention it.
Once my cries slow down to nothing but hiccups, he gently pulls me away just enough to look into my face. “What’s wrong, love?” he asks me again, his tone and words so gentle and caring it almost sends me into tears again.
I shrug helplessly. “I… I just—“
He seems to understand. After all, we are in the same boat. And Willy has this incredible optimism that never leaves him, never runs out. I envy him in that way so much.
“Can I stay with you?” I ask hoarsely. My voice is scratchy from crying.
At first, Willy seems surprised at the question. His eyebrows furrow together and his eyes search mine, probably trying to guess if I’m joking.
“Well, of—of course,” he says, stumbling over his words a little. He backs up, pulling me gently along with him.
He yanks back the thin blanket on his bed, looking nervous. “Uh—“ He glances at me, hesitantly letting my arms go. “Want me to get in first?”
I smile a little. “I don’t mind at all.” I already feel better, Willy’s magic working on me without him even knowing. He’s a miracle worker.
Willy lays down, shuffling towards the wall as best he can. He holds the sheets open for me, and gives me a soft smile.
I crawl into the bed beside him, instinctively curling into his side. He has an arm underneath me, and his other one loops around my waist, pulling me close.
My head tucks under his chin perfectly, and I can hear his heartbeat as I lay there. I hardly dare to breathe, terrified this moment is nothing but a dream.
Willy’s arms tighten suddenly around me. I’ve never felt this safe, this protected, this calm in a long time. It’s like my anxieties and my worries are just melting away, just like Willy’s chocolates.
“Thank you,” I whisper. “Thank you for always being there for me.”
I feel Willy smiling into my hair. “You’re welcome, sweetheart.” He presses a kiss on my head. “Now go to sleep,” he instructs. “You’ve got nothing to worry about.”
So I close my eyes, and I leave all my fear at the door. I’m just me, just y/n, safe and sound in Willy Wonka’s embrace.
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