Tumgik
#and yeah my face just. burns. a little but
i-am-hungry-24-7 · 2 days
Note
I've just re-read my previous requested fic for tf 141 x reader with high pain tolerance, and I think we could extend this prompt (and as always you can take it or leave it, no pressure a yea 👍🏻)
What if TF 141 almost lost F!Reader again, this time she got caught by enemies and got tortured for crucial/classified information. While being tortured, you can't help but feel a little grateful that you have such an extreme pain tolerance. You finally managed to get out that place by your own (and of course after unaliving your enemies) and got back to your team. Men are worried as hell cause 1) you look like shit, like someone has just crawled out of hell (which in your part it isn't wrong), 2) the fact that you have extreme pain tolerance just make it worse
And when you finally got evaluated by medics, including clothes off, that's when they knew you'd have it worse than what they've imagined. Black-ish bruises almost every where, broken bones, dislocated joints, dried blood etc. It's heartbreaking seeing you like this. Probably some will have self blaming, guilty, rage, and other mixed emotions. Hmm imagine the heavy angst but also the massive comfort after that.
Thankskie 🦈
Summary: high pain tolerance F!Reader get tortured, after you getting rescued, enjoy the FLUFF between you and TF141
cw: very slight gore (interrogation), canon swearing, canon violence
blahaj, FLUFF, TF141*F!Reader
last req about high pain tolerance F!Reader
Oh, This isn’t great. You probably going to die this time.
You licked your chapped lips, the bitterness of iron is obnoxious, making you regret the motion and go back to try to piece together your memories again.
You counted the time when you first got caught, but after endless rounds of interrogations, your mind is too hazy to keep up the measurement.
With your hands bounding tightly on your back, chains and steel bars preventing your legs from moving, all you can do is just prey for your teammates to come.
At least you aren’t afraid, no fear of death, nor fear of pain. It’s always these moments that you feel grateful for having almost no feelings of pain, it makes you keep composed and adamant.
Well, starving kind of sucks though, you guess you’ll even devour those vegetables you hated and shoved into Kyle’s plate if it’s presented to you.
Your mind wanders, from your pudding hiding in the deepest part of the fridge in case someone (Soap) eats it, to how Price will scold your ears off for being too reckless when you’re back, until the footsteps outside the door remind you to concentrate.
Damn, you need to get out alive if you want to listen to your dear Captain recite the rules.
The door creaks open with the broad man stepping in and his dogs tailing after with weapons.
The cool water gets splashed on your face when the man stands still in front of you.
“New toy, yeah?” you spot the machete in the man’s grip
“Glad to see you awake, sergeant?” The man laughs “Seems like the mouth still works pretty well, I hope your mind is clear too so we can cooperate perfectly today.”
“Sober enough to tell you ‘no’, I guess”
Red pours from your shoulder the second after your taunt, and you frown slightly at the little sting.
“Fucking bitch still has a sharp tongue after these wounds...” He eyes down at you with a bit of disbelief.
Even though you can’t see yourself, you know you look like shit either. Burnings from the lighters, slash wounds from various tactical knives, dark bruises forming on your thigh and other parts after countless punches and kicks.
All you need to do is buy time, but even if you barely feel pain, you still will die from blood loss if this keeps going.
The rest of the interrogation is just adding more injuries to your broken body, and your consciousness starts fading.
You really want to take a nap... but will you wake up again? you’re not sure especially when another smash lands on the back of your head.
Just about minutes before you sure will pass out again, you hear the noise. Gunfire, yelling, screaming of a massacre.
They arrived...
“Go check what’s wrong.” The broad man gestures, and one of his subordinates walks out to
“Guess your saviors have come... now” You look straight into the man ’s eyes when he puts the muzzle between your eyes. “No time for playing, one last time, tell me the people gave you the intel.”
The chaos outside is getting louder and closer. Buy time, you tell yourself again, so you whisper
“Okay... Okay... I will tell you, please don’t kill me, please...” You sniff, and start sobbing while your head stays lowered.
“Finally giving up, huh? Tell me, I need their name, who do they belong.” The smirk on the man’s face gets wider, god, you really want to punch his face.
“It’s...” You murmur, and the man leans closer to hear clearly.
“It’s go fuck yourself, you bloody bastard.” You spit the blood on his face and grin like a maniac.
and the door swings open, the gunshot splatters the man’s blood on your face, but you don’t care.
You win.
“Hey, guys, long time no see.” You smile at your teammates after the man collapses beside you.
“You’re fine now, don’t worry, we got you.” Soap rushes to your side “Price is calling the exfil, Ghost and Gaz are outside making sure everything’s clear.”
“Thanks...” You melt into Soap’s arm when he unties the rope and carries you.
“I tell the bastard to go fuck himself, hehe.”
“Stop talking, bonnie, ye need to rest.”
“Did I do great?”
“Yes.” The gravel voice of Soap’s becomes softer as he answers.
“May I rest now?” you blink slowly.
“Of course, lassie.”
Getting the confirmation, The warmth radiating from Soap is too soothing, you want to tell him how much you miss them, but those words are unable to come out as you get dragged into a coma instantly.
“damn...”
Your eyelids flutter open, the familiar white ceiling is the first thing you see.
“Morning, bonnie, how do ye feel?”
“dizzy as fuck.”
“pain?”
“Nah.”
“Sometimes I think you’re not human...” Soap laughs, but he’s worried, or worried can’t describe his mood when he saw your wounds as you were sent into the infirmary.
That day when they back to base, all of them followed you, and didn’t pay any mind about getting their gears off first.
You looked like someone who just found her way out of hell, beautiful face swollen, large bruises spread across your skin like some nasty paintings, and the situation was worse than they expected after the medics cut your clothes off and started their evaluation.
Soap couldn’t forget the rage swallowing him like flames when he saw what you went through in those days, the more wounds they spotted, the more tension in the air became more insufferable.
Gaz and he cursed when they saw the huge burn on your back, skin obviously inflamed, and when the deep cuts that exposed the bones revealed from the cover, he noticed Ghost clenching his fist to suppress anger.
Price stormed out of the infirmary and called Laswell between the medics surmising how many of your bones were broken.
“Wait...” your voice pulls Soap back to reality “blahaj! 4 blahaj! Where do they come from?”
“Price gave them to you, as rewards for your hard work. He said you keep rambling about wanting to have one.”
“awwww” Soap grins as he watches you struggle to hug all of them at one time.
“There ya go.” He helps adjust the plushies so you can get them all in your arms.
“Oh yeah, where’s others?”
“Price’s on op, will be back in a week. Ghost and Gaz will visit you soon.”
“Hmmmm.”
You caress one of the blahaj’s head and turn your face
“Thank you.” you grin “For coming to save me.”
“What are you talking about?” Covering his hand on yours, he looks into your eyes, without those playful glints in his azure ones.
“We’re a team, or more than a team. Ye think we will throw ye there and do nothing?”
The seriousness on his face infatuates you, you meet his gaze without darting, and finally, break into tender giggles.
“yeah, sorry, you’re right.” You chuckle “You know what? In that basement, All I wanted was to get out of there and come back to eat my pudding.”
“Pudding?”
“Yeah, I have one in the fridge.” nodding in excitement, you continue “I should ask the doctor if I can eat it.”
“Wait that’s yours?!”
“What’s wrong?”
“Ehhh...” Soap’s smile freezes on his face under panic “I ate it.”
“...”
Soap MacTavish gets kicked out of the room with a new mission: buy 10 puddings.
When Gaz knocks on the door and steps into your ward, you are staring out the window, but turn to him immediately when you hear his arrival.
“Hey, Kyle.” You wave with your better hand.
“Feel better?” The sugar-coated smile he has always provides you with energy, your mood lights up as he takes the seat beside your bed.
“mmhmm, not that dizzy anymore.”
“loves those sharks very much?” He points at the blahajs you squeeze close to you.
“Damn, they’re my new babies now.” You show Gaz each of them.
“This is Pricey, this is Ghostie, this is Gazzy, and this is Soapy.” Proudly introducing them to Gaz, you give the sharkies a few pats.
“Such Innovative names, hm?”
“I don’t think Gaz is some special name too, Kyle.”
You both giggle at the stupid names you granted to the sharks, while Gaz lands his eyes on your arm hanging mid-air, his laughter gradually comes to a halt.
“Hey.” He watches you raise an eyebrow when he calls you “Sorry.”
“Sorry for what?”
“Just...” His eyes stay on your bruises, traveling along them, and he hates that they lead his gaze to roam your whole figure. “We should be there faster.”
His brown eyes are full of distress when they meet yours again.
“Garrick, come closer.” You beckons, and he follows suit.
“Don’t apologize. When I saw all of you on that goddamn chair, I knew I was safe now.” You cradle his cheek in your palm “You guys are my shelter, my home, and I never thought the chance that my team wouldn’t save me, Soap said it yesterday, and I’m sure you’re the same, yes?”
“Of course.” His eyes soften, and you return him a reassuring smile when
“Time for you to go train the rookies, right?” Shooting a glimpse at the clock, you ask.
“yeah, time to deal with those troubles.” He stands up from the chair and looks down at you “See you, lovie.”
“see ya.”
You watch him walk towards the door, but stop after a few steps.
“Why does Soapy have a huge dent on his head?”
“Oh.” You pout “He ate my pudding, so I punched his shark since I can’t spar with him now.” another punch hit Soapy when you finish speaking.
“Wow...”
Gaz mourns for his brother’s future with his whole heart.
“Still awake?” The gruff yet gentle voice floats into your ear the moment the door slides open.
“Been sleeping the whole day, LT.”
Ghost watches you shift, and lies on your side to face him.
“How’s the day, Ghost?”
“Shit as usual.”
“How about seeing me, feel better?”
“Feels worse.”
“Hey, honesty is a virtue but not here.”
He scoffs at your retort as he observes your face.
“The bruises on your face look smaller.” Ghost indicates.
“Oh yeah, my face! How does it look like?” You point at the hand mirror Gaz brings you, and after Ghost hands it to you, you open the lid.
“Jesus Christ!” you shout when the reflection shows you how shit you look like “I’m so ugly right now!”
“We all know.”
“Damn, if there’s an award for honesty, you will be the winner, Simon.” You throw the mirror back into his grip.
“Will you congratulate me?”
“I will give you an ‘I’m a winner’ sticker for you to paste on your mask.”
He chuckles at your banter, but you can sense his exhaustion, from his limp body to his half-lid eyes.
“You’re tired, Simon. Go back to rest.” You coo softly.
“I’m not leaving until you sleep.”
“but I’m not that sleepy now.”
“Should I sing you a lullaby, sergeant?”
“I’m afraid that my ears don’t have the honor the hear your beautiful singing, Sir.” you feign an ‘oh hell no’ face to him, but your eyes light up when an idea comes to mind.
“Hey, how about you lie on my bed? it can fit 2 people.”
“I don’t know you’re such an active woman.”
“Fuck you, Simon. If you want me to fall asleep then get on the bed right now!”
Sighs in compromise, Ghost rises from the chair and sits on the edge of your bed with a grunt, and you scoot inward to leave him more space to lie down.
“You’re like a bear, Ghost, I’m gonna squash into a pie by you and the blahajs!”
“Then throw those bloody sharks on the floor.”
“No! they’re Tf141 blahaj!” You pet the one in your arms when Ghost gives you a confused face. “This is you, Ghost.”
“The real Ghost is beside you and you choose him over a fake one?”
“I don’t know you’re that active, lieutenant.”
You smirk at him, he’s only wearing a balaclava, so you’re able to see the corner of his eyes crinkle at your words.
But Ghost must have some magic, you grow sleepier under his presence, maybe it’s his steady breath sounds like a lullaby, or it’s because safety he always generously offers to you.
“Sleepy now?” He speaks slowly and quietly as if he’s fear of scaring your sleepiness away.
“a bit...” A big yawn answers the question better than your slurry voice.
“Close your eyes then.”
“mmm.”
You secure the Ghostie blahaj in a tight embrace as you follow Ghost’s command.
you feel light pats on your non-injured part, and you scoot closer to the bulky man, letting him lead you into a peaceful sleep.
Ghost watches you fall asleep, and he moves off the bed as gently as he can.
“Sweet dreams.” He chants in a low voice, and he takes other sharks in his hand, placing them closer to you.
Making sure the sharks are cuddling you, he leaves like a ghost in the serene silence.
You look down at yourself, ankles tied to the chair, blood dripping from the knife that’s barely in your sight.
Aren’t you already out of that basement...?
Is it all a dream? In reality, you’re still getting interrogated?
You try to fixate on the noise outside the door, but you feel the cold metal touching your forehead.
Am I never going to see them again? I want to see them again...
I want to hear Price’s praises, want to hear Soap and Gaz fighting over the last biscuit, want to hear Ghost’s annoyed voices at my frolic.
Tears gather in your eyes when you hear the click from turning off the safety of the gun.
“... geant...sergeant... sergeant.”
“Ahh!” You let out a yell as you snap your eyes open, which are wide with horror.
“Cap-Captain...” You pant whilst you recognize the person pulling you from your nightmare.
“Yes, it’s me, love. You’re safe now, you’re in the base, infirmary, remember?” He caresses your hair to calm you down.
Oh, yes, you aren’t in that basement. You’re back.
You’re with the people you love.
“Why are you here, Captain?” after you breathe steadily again, you notice it’s 1 am, and the aisle outside is silent.
“Just came back from the op, and want to see you.”
“You should have some rest, Price.”
“You mean I leave now even when you just woke up from a nightmare?” He crooks his eyebrows.
“Well...”
“Be selfish, love. I will stay here.”
“You don’t blame me for being too stupid and getting caught by the enemy?”
“Things went south sometimes.” He shakes his head “It’s not your fault.”
“...”
“Say it, luv.” He encourages you when you hesitate.
“I...” “I thought I was not afraid of anything... at least in that basement, pain’s not a big deal for me, starvation is bearable, and death... if that means I won’t lose to those dorks, then it’s nothing to me.”
Price gives you a grunt as acknowledgement, so you continue.
“but... I think I’m still afraid of dying...” You fidget your fingers “I want to see all of you again... I want to come back to you.”
“I don’t want to die...”
You haven’t noticed tears staining your cheeks until Price’s finger — calloused yet warm — wipes the tears away.
“We all know you’re brave, kid.” Price cups your face, hand barely touches your skin, must be avoiding trigger your pain, but you don’t care, nor you can feel the pain, you shove your cheek in it and earn a chuckle from the man.
“Your high pain tolerance makes you look forward to your target without worrying yourself, but keep in mind.”
“Don’t make us worry, you need to come back to us, we can’t lose you, just like you can lose us. Understood?”
“Yes, Capt.”
“You want to go back to sleep?”
“If you tell me a bedtime story, then I will.” the mischievous grin returns to your face.
“Greedy, eh? I thought those sharks could satisfy you.”
“I want your bedtime story too.”
“How about I tell you a story about how to become an attentive soldier?”
“Fuck you, Captain.”
You hit Price with the plushie, which he catches easily, and put it on his lap, letting you give the shark little punches to drain your excessive energy, as he starts telling what happened when he met Soap the first time.
You aren’t afraid of pain, and you become an undaunted person on the battlefield. Yet still, you now keep in mind that there are people who love you, and are worried about you.
You all are a team, a home, and a haven for each other, always by each other’s side, or waiting for others to return safely.
and it’s really nice to be able to come back home.
a/n: thanks for reading! and thank you sharkie for the request, I hope you will like it (or not too disappointed) !! :D
Have a nice day/night, everyone!
391 notes · View notes
squishycheekanon · 2 days
Text
This Price thot that got away with me..❤️‍🔥🖤
The fire had started to die down, John grabbed a piece of firewood he’d freshly chopped this morning while you lounged in the sweet little pillow and blanket pile you’d made earlier by the fireplace, trying your hardest to ignore the slight stretch you felt with a plug inside your aching core, keeping you stuffed full of Price’s cum. Your clit still pulsing from the memory of his filthy words.
“That’s it sweet girl, taking my cock so well. Let it out love, let it all out.”
Price flung the wood onto the fire before pulling away the soft heavy weight blanket hiding your needy body from him. His ocean eyes raked over your figure, admiring the way you shook with pleasure. His truly oversized hands began teasingly tracing over your skin, his pearly whites flashing under the bushy mutton hops and full beard when you twitched as his fingertips glazed where your thigh and hip met.
Slowly sliding the plug out of your dripping cunt, he felt himself harden even more, his cock becoming painfully tight. “Fuck honey, this pretty cunt, fuck.” He shook his head, eyes fixated on the way his cum from this morning dripped out of you. There wasn’t a prettier sight than this.
How he longed to keep you stuffed full of it so you wouldn’t even think of leaving. Not that you would, Price likes to think by this point he’s reconditioned your mind to need him and only him for anything even the tiniest things like dropping a fucking apple on the floor, in fact he prides himself on it.
“John.” Your back arched, his body moulded against yours, fitting perfectly together, being made for eachother had its perks, he thought. His hairy, sturdy chest pressed against your tits, squishing them there. His scent consumed you, fresh rain, cigars and something musky.
His thick fingers stroked down your stomach, grabbing softly at the pudge there before he slid into your throbbing hole. He could never describe the satisfaction he gets from seeing the blissed look you get on your face when he first slips his fingers inside you.
“Let me hear you love, nice and loud for me.” Price growled from somewhere deep within his chest, his pupils dilating until you couldn’t see any blue at all. “Gonna fuck you,” he grunted his fingers thrusting in and out of you, curling just right just where you needed it, “But you’re gonna cum all over my hand first.”
The fire ablaze once more, just like the feeling that burned in your lower abdomen. That coil that got tighter with every slide against that spongy spot deep inside you.
“Fuck I can’t, too much.” You whined, pussy still sensitive from the way John had woken you up with his tongue lapping at your clit. And fuckkk the way he’d flipped you onto your back and pounded into you from behind until you were cock drunk, only able to say his name on repeat.
“No, come on now, be a good girl for me,” Price’s voice transformed and you wondered if that’s how he spoke to his unit. Before you even had chance to say you couldn’t again, he brushed his thumb over your achey clit. You sobbed, moaning into the evening air, your hips jerking up against his hand.
“Yeah,” he laughed darkly, “look at you buck your hips like a good fucking girl.”
“Fuck Johnnyyy.” The way his eyes shot to your face, your pretty eyes closed, mouth open, head thrown back digging into the pillows on the floor. Johnny, it was a very limited nickname for him, only hearing it on very rare occasions. But every time he loved it.
“Oh you’re gonna cum for me aren’t you.” It wasn’t a question, even if he had to force you, you were going to cum for him. Adding a third finger and changing his angle, he bullied your cunt, plunging in and out desperate to feel you gush.
Pulling his body away from yours and leaning down, he dove right in, tongue licking, sucking and flicking at your clit. “Oooo Johnny yes! John fuck keep doing that baby!” Your hips jolting, almost riding his face not that he minded. You kept going, feeling your body burn with need the faster you bucked and the deeper his fingers went.
The feeling was so addictive you never wanted it to end, never wanted to come down but the world was against you. Your orgasm slammed into you pushing you to arch your back into the air, no longer able to jerk your hips away John saw his opportunity to hold you there and lick lick lick, until you screamed squirting onto his face and hand.
“Fuck off John!” You screeched trying to push his face away with your hands but to no avail, the way he kept you bent, you could barely reach. He stayed there a while before eventually taking pity on you and pulling away.
His thick facial hair soaked with your juices, “I thought I was Johnnnyyyyy.” He mimicked you with a fat grin on his gorgeous face.
“Fuck off.” You spat moving to turn on your side so you could get up, only for his big hands to roll you all the way onto your front. His body moulding with yours once more, you could feel the thickness of him, the hair. It made you burn with anticipation.
“Now where d’ya think you’re going love? I told you I was going to fuck you.”
©️ squishycheekanon 2024. please do not steal, copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my works without my permission. do not steal any elements of my theme without permission.
313 notes · View notes
r0-boat · 1 day
Note
Could we get the rest of the king hc of getting walked in on with mc mid 👉👌
Yep!
Are you coming right up with one bonus character! ;)
Whb Mammon and Satan + Minhyeok(masturbation)
reacts to Someone walking in on them
Part 1 here
NSFW
Mammon
Tumblr media
He is a demon with plentiful wealth of course; he's going to show off. He is a shameless demon who wants what he wants. His eyes lit up when he saw. The big golden doors to his bedroom chambers open, revealing one of his subordinates.
The demon's eyes widen when he realizes what he just walked into, The King of greed lying on his golden silk sheets and you on top of him, taking all of his large cock. The sight was delicious, sensual, almost forbidden. As he turns to leave, his king's voice is loud and proud. "Leaving so soon? Why don't you stay? Come, let me show you how delicious my new master is." Mammon backens the devil into his room. He sits up his arm around you cradling you against his chest his cock still filling you completely.
He turns you around until your back was against his chest giving the devil a full view of his cock boldering in your stomach. "Isn't my master so small? They're tight little human hole squeezes so good around my big demon cock."
He praises you more as you squirm with all this attention, feeling more like an exotic object than a person; the demon looks at him with envious yet grateful eyes. But he knows that he can look, but he cannot touch without permission, that is. That permission is not Mammon's to give
Satan
Tumblr media
He presses you into the sheets, grinding your face harshly against the pillows and covers, with one hand spreading your cheeks open as he takes you doggy. He dog fucks you into ecstasy, a hand placed around the back of your neck as he uses you like a fuck toy.
Taking his anger out on your quivering hole, Satan was so close, about to cum and flood your insides for the first time, the first of many tonight. He hadn't come in so long.
He missed you so much. His hand wasn't enough. Just as he is about to flood you completely, the door creeks open, and his hips stop. If you didn't think he was pissed now. He burned with wrath, His red eyes glowing dangerously as he snarled at the poor soul who opened the door. His fangs beared, his teeth clenched, his claws out and digging into your skin as he looks more like a wild beast.
Rip random devil your butt will be missed.
Bonus:
Minhyeok
Putting a new load of laundry into the washer He stops when his fingers brush against something wet. He sighs another wet stained towel... He wants to you about your sudden fixation but isn't sure how to bring it up. His heart stops when he realizes. Lifting it out of the hamper, his eyes widened. Your favorite underwear, Stained and smelling faintly of your scent. He shutters. The cloth smelling of you and your sex. He couldn't help but bring it to his nose... 'j-just a quick smell.'
That quick smell turned into another, and another, until His mouth was partly open, trying to fight against his tongue, lapping up at the wet spot leaning against the wall and in his pants, palming and teasing—your name trembles from his lips. And as if God hates him, You slam into the door of the laundry room, scaring his soul out of his body. Your eyes widen; you just basically saw your roommate jack off with your underwear in his hand...
Yeah no... That shit can stay in the porn tags. You close the door and pretend you didn't see anything.
107 notes · View notes
oh baby its blue flame // tom riddle x fem reader
"will-o the-wisp, babe oh baby its blue flame!"
playlist : blue flame - lesserafim
summary : tom is cold and closed off , theres something off about him and most people know that. so why are you so drawn to him like a moth to the flame?
ravenclaw reader , use of y/n , tom is nicer, AU he isnt voldemort or evil LMAO
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
"youre staring again. even a blind man could see youre staring." your best friend cassandera stated blankly , sat next to you in potions and watching you stare dreamily at a very focused tom riddle.
"i cant help it! hes just so handsome and interesting dont you think?" you whispered back , trying not to gain the attention of mindlessly waffling slughorn.
"handsome? 100%. interesting? more like terrifying!" she whispered back.
you rolled your eyes at this , "i dont get why everyone is so scared of him , hes beautiful and polite."
"yeah well the devil was once beautiful too," she mumbled in dissaproval as you gasped dramatically.
"you did not just compare him to the devil!" you gaped in suprise and slight amusement.
"he seemed pretty devilish when he took away house points because we were in the corridors one minute after cerfew!!" she whisper shouted , reliving the anger she felt when a uninterested tom riddle took away 10 points each from us.
"that was kinda mean of him," you nodded in quiet contemplation.
"oh dont act like you were upset- you admired him and said 'yes tom' like a lovesick puppy!" she scoffed.
"its not my fault the darkness of the corridor made his complexion a little more angelic than usual!" you shrugged as you both gigged.
"miss y/l/n , question 4?" slughorn asked , snapping you back into the harsh reality that you were currently meant to be doing potions.
"huh? oh uhh...well....pheonix feather?" you asked timidly as the whole class laughed only to be shushed by slughorn who held a disapproving look.
"maybe you would know the question if you werent so focussed on talking to miss cassandera." he shook his head as you sheepishly apoligised ,"mr riddle do you have a question?"
you eyes shot to tom who had his hand up , awaiting slughorns attention.
"amortentia," he stated simply as slughorn nodded , stating he was correct. you watched tom for a second longer , startled when his eyes looked at you , a visible smirk on his lips.
you widened your eyes in suprise and looked away quickly , startled and nervous.
"please tell me you saw that." you said sternly , staring forward at nothing as cassandera who did the same nodded with an equally shocked face.
"he smirked." she stated as you nodded.
"and it was hot."
---
later that day you sat on a stone bench , reading with cassandera beside you doing the same thing, until you were interrupted by a shadow blocking the sun that shone on you just seconds before.
groaning in frustration you look up to see who had blocked your light , completely paralysed in shock to see tom riddle looking down at you.
"i thought ravenclaws were smart. however you dont seem to even have the capacity of focusing in lesson." he said so coldy you felt a chill run down your spine.
"what? i...i just got distracted." you stuttered , flustered by his presence and rudeness.
"by me." he stated simply making a bright blush heat up your cheeks , "youd be suprised how easy it is to hear someone sat two rows behind you in a relitively silent classroom."
your whole body burned in embrassament as cassandera pretended to be interested in the floor , secretly listening to the conversation you had with tom.
"oh merlin i- im so sorry i-" you stuttered , not even wanting to make eye contact.
"your confidence was endearing." he again said so blankly , "itd be a shame if i found you in the corridor after cerfew tonight, no? id have to deduct points no doubt."
you were shocked by his flirting? what in the world is happening.
"yeah itd be a shame, i do have a lot of homework to catch up with at the library , i worry it could run over cerfew," you finally looked back up and regained your lost confidence.
he looked down , a faint smirk on his face , "funny thing i cover the librarys corridor. see you then."
he then walked away again , leaving the courtyard and disappearing into the crowds , leaving you to gape after the ghost of his presence.
"i never thought that man would be capable of flirting. never." cassandera muttered in pure shock , both of your jaws on the floor.
"i need to go to the library." you said throwing the book you held and grabbing your satchel in a hurry before walking away.
"hell yeah you do , run bitch!" cassandera happily cheered for you from the bench.
95 notes · View notes
Alastor hated both Adam and Lucifer with a fiery passion. The fallen angel had beaten him in battle, no one has ever bested him like that!
The King of Hell grated on his nerves simply for existing.
And what was worse? They were TOGETHER! As in dating and they were happy and thriving! Sure there was a lot of melodrama along the way that everyone had to bare witness to, but the radio demon had been sure they would crash and burn. He was rooting for them to fail.
He thought that when the first man respawned in Hell that Lucifer would have had him tortured for the rest of his days. That's not what happened at all, he took Adam in and let him stay at the hotel and even got the sinner to sell his soul to the King for ultimate protection.
Slowly, everyone watched the two fall in love for each other even when they tried to hide it. It should have been a toxic relationship what with all the baggage between them since the dawn of time.
But no, their love was equal parts vile and beautiful. Alastor wanted to puke even thinking about it.
He had two things in mind. Alastor wanted a rematch with Adam, he was a sinner now so he would be much weaker. An easy win to sooth Alastors bruised ego. Then he wanted to create as many wedges as he could in their disgusting relationship.
He couldn't do much of anything to Lucifer, being the King meant he'd turn Alastor into paste before he even lifted a finger.
But if he could get under Adam's skin, fuck with his mind and plant seeds of doubt then the fallen angel would do the rest.
Adam hummed happily as he plucked weeds out of his garden. Lucifer had made him a huge greenhouse filled with a garden for him to tend to as a way to relax and a gift.
Adam's gift in return was a little more oral.
He loved this garden, it wasn't Eden, nothing would ever compare to that garden, but it was one that Lucifer made just for him and he loved it all the more.
"It's looking good right?" Adam asked as he looked back to Lucifer who was in a lawn chair watching him work.
Lucifer had been looking at Adams bent over frame as he pulled weeds. "Looks exquisite." He wasn't talking about the garden.
Adam smirked. "You mean the garden right?"
"I think two things are exquisite. Like the flowers that are in bloom and those jeans that hug your ass just right." He should get Adam more jeans like that.
Adam just shook his head playfully, "These are my favorite jeans."
"Mine too.~" Lucifer winked and Adam had to look away and smother a laugh in his hand. Cheeky devil.
"Gentlemen." The sound of a static filled voice filled the room. Adam frowned and looked over to where Alastor was standing.
This fucking guy, Adam thought bitterly. Adam got to his feet and wiped the dirt off on his jeans. "The fuck do you want?" He walked over to his work bench to grab some tools.
"Now that's not very nice. Am I interrupting something?" Alastor said not at all caring if he did.
"Well actually-" Lucifer started, but got the microphone shoved in his face to silence him. He growled and glared at the radio demon. How dare he just come in here and ruin his and Adams garden time together!!
"Don't care. I'm not here for you your majesty I'm here to speak with Adam actually." Alastor spit out the title as if it were poison.
"Again, what the fuck do you want I'm busy. Last time I checked, I don't want you in here." Adam said not looking at Al, his voice taking on a sharper edge. He went to stand beside Lucifer, glaring at Alastor.
"I'll cut to the chase. I want a rematch against you."
Adam blinked. "Rematch?" The fuck did that mean? It took him a minute until it clicked. "Oh! You mean from when I beat your ass on the roof? Ha! Yeah, no not gonna happen Bambi get lost."
Alastor narrowed his eyes. "What's the matter, worried you'd lose?"
Adam laughed. "Bitch please, you're not even worth my time." He walked over to Alastor and got in his face. "Now get the fuck out of my garden."
Alastor turned to look at Adams work bench. He noticed that among the tools and seeds there was a single potted plant. Must be special.
In a swift motion Alastor knocked it to the ground with his microphone. Adam reached out to catch it but he wasn't fast enough, the pot broke on the ground the flower and dirt going everywhere.
Lucifer had given him that flower, he created it special for Adam as a symbol of their love.
Adam's eyes flashed red as he turned a glare to that radio fuck. "WHAT THE FUCK ASSHOLE!?" His voice took on a more demonic edge. How fucking dare he! That guys smug smile was really pissing Adam off.
"What's the matter, did your little boyfriend get you that silly little flower?" In the next second Al found himself sliding across the floor, some pain in his throat.
Adam had throat punched the fucker. "As a matter a fact, he did." He could feel his blood boiling, he was so pissed. "You want a fucking fight you got one."
Alastor got to his feet grinding madly. Finally, he would wipe the floor with that shit stain.
Lucifer used his magic to conjure something up for Adam. "Here, use this." He handed Adam his guitar that doubled as a saw. Lucifer took Adam by the chin and looked him in the eye. "Kick his fucking ass. I'll be watching."
Adam smirked, his eyes going back to their golden color. "You bet I will."
"And stay the fuck out!" Adam yelled as he slammed the doors to the garden. Alastor on the other side crumpled on the floor. He fucking lost again! What the hell was that? Alastor slunk away to the shadows, he had planning to do.
Adam walked back over to Lucifer who was grinning from ear to ear beaming with pride for his boyfriend. He had his hands behind his back. "Whatcha got there?"
Lucifer revealed the newly fixed pot with the flower he made for him. As if it had never been broken. "For the victor."
Adam smiled and took the flower, he leaned down and kissed Lucifer on the lips. "Thank you, Luci." Adam placed the flower back where it belonged. He felt arms wrap around him from behind.
"You know what would be fun?" Lucifer purred as he rubbed Adams hips suggestively.
"Hmm, sex in the garden?"
"Sex in the garden."
99 notes · View notes
strangersmunsons · 5 hours
Text
scorch & magic
you're a little embarrassed about one of your interests, but Eddie puts your mind at ease.
Tumblr media
Contains: Eddie x Reader, fluff, Beanie Babies, reader collects stuffed animals and is a little embarrassed about it, but of course Eddie doesn't care. No description of reader's appearance, no use of y/n, pet names but no specific pronouns. Warnings: None! Pure, absolutely SFW fluff. Word Count: ~2,100 NEVERMIND ME I AM BEING SILLY AND SELF-INDULGENT AGAIN! here's the beanie baby fic no one asked for. this one goes out to all my fellow adult plushie collectors. inspired by this post and this post. and also this post.
“That’s cute.”
Eddie’s voice snaps you out of your reverie. You look up from the jewelry box sitting on your dresser, fingers halting in the middle of their search for your missing earring.
Eddie’s eyes are trained on the faded armchair tucked away in the corner of your room. It’s an old thing, a relic from your parents’ house, the style a tad dated for your taste — not to mention that the earth-toned plaid doesn’t really match anything else in your bedroom, and if you had money to spare on some re-upholstery work, you would. But it’s not the ugliness of the furniture that causes the squirm of embarrassment in your belly.
It’s the giant pile of stuffed animals that are stacked precariously on the cushion that makes you feel just the tiniest bit mortified.
“Oh, that’s just, um…” you trail off uncertainly, flustered at being caught with a hoard of children’s toys in your adult bedroom. “I’ve had them for a long time.” It’s not a total lie; a good number of them were acquired during your childhood, but the truth is, you’re actually an avid collector. You can’t help it — if you’re out shopping somewhere, and you happen to see something cute and soft and cuddly that’s on sale…well, why shouldn’t you buy it? You’re grown. You can do whatever you like. 
At least, that’s what you usually tell yourself. But it’s harder to hold on to that rationale in the face of your new, intimidating, metalhead boyfriend.
Eddie stalks over to the chair to take a closer look. Amusement pulls the corners of his lips up, and your cheeks burn with embarrassment. He selects one of your oldest and most favorite toys, a faded pink teddy bear with a rattle encased in its round little body that sounds when he picks it up. It looks funny in his rough hand, at total odds with the bulky silver rings and dark ink.
“I’ve had that since I was a baby,” you tell him quickly, now searching for your elusive earring with a little more urgency. When Eddie came to pick you up for your date, you asked him to wait in the living room while you finished getting ready, but he followed you in here anyway — this is the first time he’s set foot in your bedroom.
You had hoped to find a good hiding spot for all your little guys before that happened. Because you could imagine how someone like Eddie — with all his leather and chains and tattoos — would react to such a hobby. He might stifle his laughter on your behalf, if he decided to be kind. Or he might go so far as to sneer openly at them, put off by his partner engaging in something that others tend to see as so…juvenile.
Too late to do anything about it now, though.
“There’s a lot of them,” he muses, setting the bear down in favor of a small white mouse with brown whiskers and large teeth.
Finally you manage to pick out the matching stud, and poke it through your earlobe. Struggling to push the back into place, you tell him, “I…wasn’t much for Barbies as a kid.” Jewelry secured, you spin on your heel and edge towards the door. “Okay! Are you ready to go?
Eddie puts your mouse back in its place — snug on the lap of another, bigger teddy — and shrugs, still looking far too entertained by the plushie collection for your liking. “Yeah, I’m ready.” Is he smiling or smirking?
You grab his hand and lead him out of the room.
Tumblr media
A week later, the topic comes up again when you’re out running errands together. Eddie asked you to tag along while he bought some things for Wayne’s upcoming birthday, so you’re ambling through the shop in search of party supplies. As he pushes the shopping cart down the card aisle, intent on purchasing a goofy note for his uncle — something with googly eyes that sings and has a terrible pun written inside — a display rack near the envelopes catches his eye:
Beanie Babies.
“Hey,” he suddenly pats your back to grab your attention, “do you have any of those?”
You look to where he’s pointing. “Oh!” Those are new. Teeny and understuffed, but realistically cute, with little eyes and —
You shake your head, playing it cool. “No, I don’t,” you answer with as much nonchalance as you can muster.
Eddie gives you a half-smile, and again, you can’t tell if he’s teasing you or not. “You wanna check ‘em out?”
You shake your head, and attempt to twist your face into the most casual expression possible. “Oh, that’s okay. Like I said, most of the ones I have are from when I was a kid, anyway, I-I don’t really buy them anymore. Honestly, the only reason they’re even out is because I haven’t found a good place to put them yet. Or, actually, I’ve been meaning to donate a lot of them.”
Eddie simply listens while you ramble, totally impassive. When you’re finished, he asks, “Even the ones you keep on your bed, that you clearly still sleep with?”
You bite the inside of your cheek and don’t respond. Eddie cracks a smile.
“Are you embarrassed about your stuffed animals?”
Deny, deny, deny. “...no.”
Eddie laughs, and rests both his hands on your shoulders. “Sweetheart, it’s fine,” he promises. “I told you, it’s cute.”
You stare at the floor. “You don’t think it’s like, too babyish or something?” you ask him in a small voice.
Eddie scoffs. “No, of course not. Not if it’s something that makes you happy.” He steers you towards the table with these Beanie Babies, and wraps an arm around your waist. “C’mon, pick one out. It’s on me.”
You glance at him, eyes wide. “Really?”
He nods. “Of course. My treat.”
Hesitantly, you lean in to peruse your options. It’s a little overwhelming. There are bears of all colors, with satin ribbons tied around their necks; some classic farm animals, and more exotic ones, too, like elephants and monkeys; there are even a number of tie-dyed reptiles and sea critters. 
You give Eddie an awed look, unsure of how to narrow it down. He smiles encouragingly. “Whatever you want.”
You start to sort through them, and pick them up one at a time to examine them thoroughly. You weigh them in your hands, and run the pads of your fingers along the fabric, enjoying how soft and pliant they are, while Eddie watches you with interest. Some part of you understands that you’re taking way too long, and maybe you’re even being kind of weird about it, but mostly, you’re caught up in the sensation of how these little friends feel when you hold them. It’s very soothing.
“Hmmm,” you hum quietly, picking up a magenta platypus, laying her flat in your palm.
Eddie rubs your lower back with a firm hand. “So, what are we thinking?”
“I’m not sure yet…” You set the platypus back down, and when you move to pick up a rainbow-striped worm, you pause. A flash of white-pink light catches your eye; you snake a hand deep into the plush pile, chasing the miniscule scrap of iridescent fabric, barely visible amongst the other toys.
You come up with a perfect, snow-white dragon, with shiny wings and pink stitching. Eddie lets out a low whistle.
“I think that’s a winner, babe.”
You turn to him and grin, cheeks feeling warm. “I think so, too.”
The white tag on the bottom, along with a tiny red heart, reads: Magic.
Eddie comes home with you later that night. You perch the new dragon proudly on the edge of your dresser, as opposed to the chair with all the others — you feel she deserves her own special place, being a present from Eddie.
While you position her just right, Eddie flops down onto the mattress and curls around the stuffed bunny you sleep with every night, closing his eyes. He looks so out of place — this metalhead with his heavy combat boots still on, nestled serenely amongst your silk pillows, cuddling with your various teddies.
“Hey,” you scold him playfully. “If you’re spending the night, I hope you don’t plan on sleeping in the middle of the bed like that.”
Eddie lets out an exaggerated sigh in response, but doesn’t open his eyes.
You cross the room, bare feet padding against the carpeted floor. You climb onto the bed and drape your body over his, so you’re laying flat on top of him. Purposefully, you let your knees squish into his legs as you get situated, but he still doesn’t move.
Giving in, you let yourself slump over him, and your head falls into the crook of his neck. Nosing into his curls, you press a small kiss to the pale skin underneath his ear. “Thank you for my gift,” you mumble against him.
He reaches one arm behind him, hand landing on your thigh; he gives it an affectionate squeeze. “You’re welcome.”
Tumblr media
Three years pass, and Magic the Dragon remains in your possession all that time. She went from your original apartment to the next one, and then to the house you live in now, which you share with Eddie. She’s still in her place of honor on the bedroom dresser.
The Beanie Baby craze that’s occurred since he bought her for you was truly something to behold (personally, you couldn’t really get into all that mess — the competition gave you far too much anxiety). Both of you shook your heads in disbelief at the utter chaos created by these toys, but it also made you feel a sort of triumph, in a way; you had one of them, but it wasn’t an investment, or some wild fad you had fallen into. 
It was a token of Eddie’s love.
At the time, you didn’t quite make this connection. Your relationship was too green, too new for either of you to throw the word love around casually, or attribute grand feelings to small gestures. But, as Magic’s presence continued to stand the test of time, you started to see the gift for what it really was.
It was Eddie, perceptive Eddie, sensing your insecurity and going out of his way to put your mind at ease. He was reassuring you. It was his way of letting you know that he understood this part of you — however inconsequential that part may be — and that he accepted it.
And he would do this many, many times over, with every single part of yourself that you revealed to him. And everytime you looked at that silly little thing on your dresser, you remembered.
So it seems only fitting that now, in the exact same store three years later, you find Magic’s counterpart in Scorch. Brown scales, red iridescent wings, with green spikes and forked tongue. He’s absolutely perfect.
You know exactly what to do. It’s time to return the favor.
Immediately, you drop him in your shopping basket and hurry on, eager to get home and show Eddie what you’ve found.
You burst through the front door and into the kitchen, practically bouncing with excitement. “Eddie!” 
He’s making dinner, preoccupied with a pot on the stove. Still stirring whatever’s inside, Eddie looks back at you over his shoulder, and his face splits into a wide smile. “Hi, baby.”
“I have something for you!” you tell him in a singsong voice, sauntering over and wrapping your arms around his trim waist, the shopping bag hanging from the crook of your elbow. 
“Oh yeah? What’s that?”
You release him and start rifling through the bag’s contents, while Eddie lays the spoon down and turns to face you in full.
Beaming, you fish out the small stuffed dragon and present it to him with a flourish. “Ta-da!”
Taking it in, Eddie lets out a loud laugh that reverberates around the kitchen. “Oh my God!”
You smile at him happily, and Eddie takes Scorch from you gingerly, looking delighted. “No way.” 
“Yes, way. They’re gonna look so good together.”
And they do. Eddie places Scorch next to Magic, so they’re both perched on the edge of the dresser, facing the room. Then, thinking better of it, he turns them so that they face one another, snouts touching in a tiny dragon kiss.
Satisfied with the positioning, Eddie joins you where you sit at the edge of the bed. Looping an arm around your shoulder, he pulls you close to his side, and presses his lips to yours. 
“Look at that. They’re just like us.”
Tumblr media
if you actually read this then thank you that's sweet <3 lmao idk how this ended up being 2k words
94 notes · View notes
yoisami · 2 days
Text
somewhere near you was the crisp sound of a can of soda being opened. you whipped your head around, and you saw a young boy tilting a can of cola up, inhaling the soda as if his nose wouldn't hurt a few seconds later.
"do you want a can of soda too?"
you averted your gaze from the little boy. beside you, reo was reaching for the wallet in the pocket of his jeans, assuming that a can of sweet soda would satiate you. violet strands escaped from behind his ear, falling and hiding his eyes as he pulled out the leather wallet that was adorned by familiarly distinct and pretentious letters and stars.
"wait, i don't want soda," you quickly said, hands landing on his wrist. your boyfriend looked at you with furrowed brows, then his expression switches to a reassuring, confident smile.
"are you just worried that i'll use my money?" reo laughed. his grin revealed his annoyingly-perfect teeth, and his annoyingly-perfect eyes become two adorable crescent moons. you shook your head.
"you're half-correct. if you were to buy a can of soda for me, the weight of that purchase upon your bank account would be similar to a feather," you shrugged, fingers reaching out to brush his hair away from his face. reo leaned forward as another laugh rolled past his lips, suggesting that he enjoyed your touch and care.
"that's right," he affirmed. then, reo enveloped his fingers around your wrist, guiding it to his lips as he pressed an innocent kiss upon your skin. "though, if you want anything, i'll buy it."
"that's not necessary," you sighed, bringing his hand onto your lap. whilst tracing the blisters embellished on his palm, you drew a small, imperfect heart with your finger. "i just need you."
you returned reo's endearing smile before you looked around your vicinity. this park was a popular location for both families with young children and couples to roam around for multiple reasons. firstly, the aesthetics of the park was deemed instagram-worthy by several influencers. secondly, the playground enticed children with its attractive colours, meaning that they could burn all their stamina and restlessness here (and parents would return home contentedly).
most importantly, on most days of the week, there would be an older lady seated in an orange plastic chair selling bubble wands and toys and kites. couples opted for the bubbles, while children preferred the rainbow kites. many people would make purchases from the old lady out of pity—seeing elderly people work was a true weakness for majority of the population.
and that included you.
as you squeezed your boyfriend's hand, you gestured at the old lady with your other hand. "reo, can we get bubbles?"
"bubbles?"
"yeah. i feel bad for the old lady, so i want to help her out by buying some bubbles. that way, we're helping her empty her stock for the day, and she'll be able to go home early!" you reasoned, standing up on your feet. reo nodded his head as he weaved his fingers between yours, persistent to hold your hand wherever you went. together, you approached the elderly lady's little toy vendor.
there were crinkles near her eyes as she smiled at you. "would you like to buy something?"
responding politely and sweetly, you said, "yes please. can we take on—"
your boyfriend's voice intercepted through your request. "we'll take all of your bubble wands, please."
the old lady blinked, her wrinkles becoming more prominent as a result of reo's surprise. you also blinked, puzzled at your boyfriend's unexpectedly large purchase of bubble wands. in unison, you and the lady both stuttered, "a-all of them?"
"yep!" reo confirmed, beginning to take out the cash from his wallet. the owner nodded her head instantly as she began packing the remaining bubble wands into a plastic bag. you turned to face reo, whose smile was as dazzling as the blue sky above you.
"are you planning to give these away to the little children, young man?" the lady asked, putting the final three wands into the bag.
reo handed her the bills. in a teasing manner, he said, "maybe. or we might just use all of them."
you and reo left the vendor with a bag full of bubble wands. after finding a vacant spot in the park, reo untied the knot of the bag and pulls out a blue bubble wand. there was a child-like gleam of anticipation in his eyes as he twisted it open.
"let's see how long this bubble will last," he muttered, tongue poking out from the corner of his mouth. with one, great, swing, reo maneuvered the wand to the left as a clear, wobbly sphere protruded out of the wand, precariously bobbing away from your boyfriend. reo's grin reappeared—there were now two suns at the park.
while shrugging his shoulders coolly and nonchalantly, he sighed playfully. "how am i just so good at everything?"
with a huff, you claim possession of reo's bubble wand. "watch me—i'll make a prettier bubble than you."
you in fact, did not make a prettier bubble than reo. your attempts finally arrived to an end when you cleared the mixture, leaving the tube empty and dry. and together, you and reo passed out the remaining bubble wands to the children playing hide and seek near the trees.
Tumblr media
footnotes: hi i missed u all 💔 kinda missed writing but missed y'all and reo more <3
61 notes · View notes
riftanswhore · 2 days
Note
Please write anything. Anything means anything for jay. There's dearth of jay Smuts in tumblr.
a/n: ask is open for the hyung line, and jay's kittens do your job tell us what you want about him and give your man the deserved justice!!!
not my plushie!
you don't collect plushies but you have around 3 of them for you to hold onto when you're sleeping alone. you've had them before you started dating jay but recently he's been pissed at those toys for being more in your arms than him. however you're only using them because his work is getting the best of him lately.
so he plotted a small revenge as a warning.
he had to do something to your plushies so you cannot use them anymore. he needed to buy some time to be your personal plushie before the real plushies take over again.
ping!
ping!
ping!
several videos were sent to you when you were out with your girlfriends. a text saying enjoy is enough of an indicator that you had to exclude yourself from the others and go to the washroom. you locked yourself in one of the cubicles, opening the messages again and clicked on the first video he sent.
you let out a loud audible gasp echoing in the bathroom from pure shock. he was fucking tommy, your husky face plushie. it had a hole on the side of the face so you can slip your arm in and sleep on it but now the hole is getting abused by his cock thrusting in and out of it. you could see a pearly string of precum stretched between his plump wet tip and the fabric of the plushie. "fucking soft just like your little greedy cunt. s'one gonna be my favourite fucktoy now, might take it away from you." jay grunts in the video. "fuck yes so close so close m gonna spill into this fucking toy."
you closed the toilet seat since your knees are getting weaker by seconds seeing your lover ruining your 'sleeping friends'. you couldn't believe that your sweet caring lover would be such a disgusting piece of a man and do you like this. as much as you hate this happening, you can't pause or close the video. you watched until the last second where you see he pulled out and jerked the remaining of his seed on the plush toy's face.
at this point, your pussy was throbbing, you had to douse the burning lust in your stomach. you opened the next media and saw a 1 minute video of him jerking off again on top of pinkie, your cat plushie. he rubbed the underside of his tip on the plushie's stomach like he did to you when you were misbehaving and came again. "mmh, such a cute little toy so good for rubbing my tip seems like i had to make this one dirty too since she's always in your arms." the video ended with pinkie's abdomen fully covered in his cum dripping on the sides of it and staining the sheets.
now the last video will be toffee's turn, your softest dinosaur plushie that sleeps with you every single night. you were hoping he has lesser amounts of cum now since he had cum twice consecutively on your two plushies. there's no way he could come that much anymore right? well you're about to find out now.
the video lasted for 2 minutes and a half. you keep chanting 'there's no way' in your head hoping the best luck for your dino friend. the first 3 seconds already showed toffee's body wet with sticky cum, seeming like it already absorbed into the plush. "no fucking way, did he fucked this one first?" you heard jay's voice in the video. "yeah, fucked this one first then let my cum seeped in and dried on it while i fucked the others. fucking hate this one the most, gonna make the fucking worst out of the three. oh before i forgot! this one's gonna be my third time on toffee, had to save the best one for last."
his voice is too cheeky for someone doing the nastiest shit on someone else's belongings. you couldn't finish that video. you had to go home and make him taste his own medicine. you never topped him before, but after what he did tonight, he's gonna get it worse than what your plushies went through. you were so in your head, you jumped when your phone rings.
seongie♡ is calling
"jay what the fuck you think you're fucking doing?"
"don't be so mad ba-"
"it's okay, i know what im gonna do to you tonight"
call ended
127 notes · View notes
niki-phoria · 2 days
Text
LIKE ALWAYS MY FOCUS IS ON YOU
Tumblr media
pairing: shen ricky x gn!reader (no pronouns used) genre: fluff word count: 448
notes: my motivation has been garbage lately lol, i might occasionally post some zb1 fics bc i love them, not proofread, title from ZEROBASEONE - SWEAT
Tumblr media
sunlight danced across the sky, casting a golden glow across your bedroom. the clouds above are tinted in various shades of pink and orange as the sun slowly sets; its rays slowly disappear below the horizon. RICKY interlinks his pinky finger with your own, watching you with a soft smile as you settle yourself beneath the blankets.
“i missed this,” you sigh, resting your head against ricky’s shoulder. his arm snakes around your waist, keeping your body pressed against his. “i missed you.”
he hums as he reaches over to push a stray strand of hair away from your face. ricky’s touch is gentle as he carefully tucks the strand behind your ear. “i missed you too, love.”
you smile, taking the moment to observe your lover. video calls with an unstable connection could never do him justice. from up close, you can still see the black eyeliner surrounding his sharp eyes. the thin layer of foundation coating his cheeks does little to hide the flush slowly spreading up his neck and tinting his ears a light pink. 
ricky turns to face you, his gaze capturing yours easily. silence falls across your bedroom, only occasionally broken by the low hum of the air conditioner. “you’re staring,” you murmur. 
ricky hums in response. his tinted lips curl into a soft smile as he reaches up, gingerly resting his hand against your cheek. “so are you.”
you wrap your hand around his wrist, rubbing your thumb against the grooves of his knuckles. ricky’s hands are soft against your own. his skin smells of hotel lotion and the soap in your bathroom. they fit perfectly into your own, intertwining almost subconsciously. “you’re beautiful.”
ricky laughs - a soft, beautiful sound. it fills the previous silence of your bedroom, making a smile spread across your own lips. “yeah?” he teases, leaning in until there are mere centimeters between your faces. “you think so?”
“of course.”
he smiles. your eyes flutter shut when he slowly leans in. ricky’s lips are soft when he finally presses them against your own. he kisses you like he never wants to let go - pouring all of the love and longing he had felt into the kiss. you can just barely taste the cherry chapstick he had applied a few hours earlier; his tinted lipstick stains against your lips. 
your lungs are burning by the time you pull away. your flushed cheeks match ricky’s as he presses another chaste kiss against your cheek before burying his face into the crook of your neck. “i love you.”
you pepper a few stray kisses against his skin in response, tightly wrapping your arms around his waist. “i love you too, ricky.”
Tumblr media
if you liked this fic, please consider leaving a like, comment, feedback, or rebloging !! and if you want to support me, check out more of my fics here <33
56 notes · View notes
xxshadowbabexx · 2 days
Text
Tumblr media
My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys Pt I: Howdy
headcanon inspo
check series masterlist for series warnings
Tumblr media
You were bored, broke, and lonely. Not to mention horny.
It had been ages since your last fuck, so you did what anyone looking for some dick in these modern times did. You opened your preferred dating app.
The first thing you noticed was a lack of matches, although you aren’t very active on the hellsite, so it shouldn’t have been of any surprise. That just meant it might take a bit longer to get a match.
You swiped for a bit before a profile finally caught your eye.
Tumblr media
His bio wasn’t your taste, but he was decent looking and clearly here for some sex. It couldn’t hurt, right?
You swiped on him, and it’s a match, but you decide to continue profile shopping before messaging Brian. Just in case.
Several dozen profiles you’re not interested in, and a message for Brian.
Brian: Hey luv
Brian: Since you chose me I assume ur here for a rough poundin
…Ew.
Yeah, he wasn’t getting a response.
And then there was Alexander.
Tumblr media
Close by, but clearly looking for something long term. And you’re not looking to be a mom right now. Nope.
You were about to log off- you had swiped through about thirty profiles. But then again, five more couldn’t hurt, could it?
And you were so glad you decided to swipe a bit more, because the fourth profile was incredibly intriguing.
Tumblr media
Incredibly muscular. Masked. Large age gap. Nearby. Only looking for sex, and willing to pay???
It was a dream come true. Or a scam. You tried not to think about that as you swiped yes on him.
Much to your surprise, he had swiped yes on you, too. But now do you message him? Do you wait for him to message you first? What are you supposed to say? You found yourself typing before you could stop yourself.
You: howdy
You facepalmed. What a dumb first message. You were trying to seduce this mysterious masked man. Charm him with your wit and then keep him for his dick and money. “Howdy”? Really?
You set your phone down on the table, sighing. Maybe you should make some food and cut your losses, but then your phone dinged.
Simon: Howdy? Don’t tell me your a southern-American prick now
You grinned, thank fuck you didn’t deter him.
You: oh i’m definitely not lol
You: so based on your bio are you like a sugar daddy???
His response was instantaneous.
Simon: Of sorts
You: ????? care to explain
Simon: If you’re free tonight we can meet up for a lay. If I enjoy myself then we can negotiate
You shouldn’t. It’s such a safety hazard. You really shouldn’t.
You: luckily for you i am
You: where do you want to meet?
•••
“Oh my fucking god Simon~” you mewed, throwing your head back and digging your hands into his mask. His balaclava was pure black and pulled up to rest on his crooked nose.
He grunted against your pussy, “Yeah? Tha’ feel good?” he smirked, lapping at your hole greedily.
You nodded, “So good. So fucking good,” you panted.
One hand moved up to press on your stomach, holding you down and forcing the pathetic thrusts you had been doing against his face to stop. His other hand moved up to palm your chest. He groped the fat, pinching it between his fingers and prodding at your nipple with his thumb.
He sucked your clit. Hard. Then pulled his face back, and smacked it with his hand.
“Filthy fucking thing. Just like you, hm?” the words sent a burning feeling deep into your belly and you felt a coil tighten.
“Yes- yes!” you gasped as he curled his fingers into your sopping cunt.
He tsked, “So needy, drooling all around m’ fingers. Can’t imagine how messy you’ll be once I finally give you m’ cock,”
“Please Simon- oh fuck, please, need your cock,”
You can feel him smiling against your pussy, “Yeah? Silly little girl needs me so bad, don’tcha sweet’eart?”
You nodded, “Please,”
•••
You moved your hand to block the sun in your eyes, grumbling as you moved to sit up. It was then that you felt the arm wrapped around your waist, and last nights memories came flooding back in.
“That’s it, be a good girl and give me one more. I believe in you,”
“So fucked out a’ready? We’ve barely even started,”
And then the-
“Shh, shhh you were such a good girl fer me,”
“I know, I know. But I have to get up, love. Got to clean up the mess you made, then I’ll be back to hold you,”
You didn't think he would be the type to do aftercare, but he did, and he did it wonderfully.
You turned around to face him, and you were met with light blue eyes lazily gazing upon you. Your cheeks heated.
"Morning," you muttered bashfully, unsure of what else to say.
Simon hummed, "Mornin' to you too, lovie. Lucky for you, after last nights performance you sure past the bloody test," he winked, morning voice gravely. Oh boy, this was going to be fun.
Tumblr media
taglist
@frogtowne @glossysoap
© xxshadowbabexx 2024. please do not steal, copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my works without my permission. do not steal any elements of my theme without permission.
59 notes · View notes
sugoi-writes · 7 hours
Text
Lucifer Morningstar x Reader - Aftercare
Some silly, Luci aftercare... because I need to practice other characters during my hyperfocus-time HAHAH
MDNI... Y E E T 🦆🐤❤️
For the nth time that morning, you partner was able to bring you to paradise. Your eyes fell closed as your head lolled to the side, breathing ragged. You couldn't produce a coherent thought as your arm came to lay across your eyes. Your core felt almost numb from the overwhelming stimulation, and for a moment, you felt you lightheaded from your efforts.
You trembled and whined as your body calmed down from your quick death, Lucifer's movement slowing down before ceasing all together. You shivered as you felt dexterous fingers and spaded tail leave you, almost tasting the grin that was sent your way.
He blinked for a moment as he heard quiet, steady breathing, your arm still obscuring your eyes. Lucifer drew impossibly close to you, lifting your arm," Honey~ Honey~? Don't tell me you just fell asleep~" He teased, voice as sweet as the petname he uttered to you. Only to you.
"Honey, that was... WOW. Good job, baby," Lucifer said, breathless and awkward as he ran his other, clean hand through his sweaty hair.
"That was perfect. ABSOLUTELY perfect..."
You snorted as you stirred from your impromptu slumber, blinking sleepiness away from your eyes," Wh-what...? No, no, I'm... I'm good. I'm fine. I can keep going--" You ramble, your tone unconvincing as your eyes fluttered again. The angel hovering above you laughs, patting your abdominals gently. You jolted from the stimulation, but relaxed when the touch brought comfort, not pleasure.
You felt your blood run ice cold as your mind caught up to his words, eyes throwing themselves wide open.
"Sweetheart, you can barely make eye contact, let alone keep your eyes open. I think we're done for now. But maybe once I'm back, we can get back to what we started?" You sighed as your arm was moved aside, kind fingers threading through your fussy hair. When he looked at you like this, he almost mistook you for his own kind. He took in the sight of your hair fanned out across his pillow; a sensual imitation of a halo...
Lucifer was absolutely smitten with the sight.
"Oh... oh fuck you still have work, don't you?"
Lucifer presses a kiss to your sweaty forehead, fingers stilling momentarily in your hair," You know it never truly stops, sweetheart... but, I won't be out for long. A few visits, an appointment with Asmodeus... then I'll be back for the rest of the day," Lucifer comforted, his lowered voice reverberating off of his own ribs. The tone made your legs clench together; Luci chuckled at the flattering sight. You whined as the sensual tone of his voice made your mind wonder again, biting your lip to stifle a groan.
"Easy, Tiger... I've got to get ready now. But I'll be back for you soon, okay? Why don't you roll over? We'll need to change the sheets and get you into the shower, too..."
You groan in protest, your legs kicking momentarily. You were imitating a petulant child beautifully; truly, you should have been an actor. Lucifer found your little fit adorable, sitting up on shaky thighs," C'mon, babygirl... One, two... three!" With arms that felt like gelatin, Lucifer rolled you onto your side successfully. He stood up, about to remove the blankets... until he spotted the mess you made. His face flushes suddenly, a nervous smile on his face at sight of the arousal puddle," O-Oh boy, you... yeah, you're definitely tired after all of that."
"...and dehydrated...," you added, your voice slightly hoarse from overuse. Lucifer rolls his eyes, making quick work of the sheet while he worked around you," Honey, let's face it, you always are. Squirting all over hands just makes it worse~"
"Was that your first time, y'know... doing that?" Lucifer asked, meek and unassuming. He wouldn't be surprised either way. You nod, your cheeks still burning with embarrassment as Lucifer had you make eye contact. Your chin was cradled by the same fingers that pleasured you, making your heart beat wildly.
You groan, embarrassed by his words as you cover your face. Lucifer raises a brow at you and tries not to rub it in. He moves to your side of the bed to help you to your feet. The both of you groaned at the mutual effort, Lucifer rubbing at his arms while you braced your back. The both of you felt your age wash over your bodies again...
Lucifer wiggles his brows at you, making you groan in playful distain. He avoided your playful, sloppy hands as he came behind you. You didnt protest as he gently guided you towards the bathroom, a slew of kisses being pressed to your hunched shoulders.
"B-By someone else, yes... that was... NEW."
"Well, lucky for you, that's not the first time I've done that for someone~ And it won't be the last time you do that, either~"
You nearly fall on your ass at the implications of his words, your heart nearly stopping for the nth time that morning. Lucifer is immediately apologizing and coming to your side, throwing your arm over his shoulder. When he's able to get you walking again, he continues.
"You're washing the sheets if you make me do that again...," you groan, stumbling towards the shower and tub with tired legs. Lucifer smirks as he turns the hot water on, patting your back," A worthy exchange to watch you come undone. I'd do laundry for the rest of time to see you do that again~"
"Alright, alright, I'll stop~... but I mean it. We're trying that again later~"
You nearly tackled Lucifer into the shower, the both of you laughing while you did you best to get cleaned up (and not worked up again). While Lucifer was nearly late to his outings, you soaked in the comforts of his shower, hugging yourself. You tried not to get too excited as you cleansed yourself, your mind wondering just what Lucifer would do next time to make you see the stars again...
46 notes · View notes
lullabyes22-blog · 3 days
Text
Snippet - Crash & Burn - Forward but Never Forget/XOXO
Tumblr media
Vi's memory plays tricks on her. Or Silco does.
tw: war, violence, aftermath of bloodshed, childhood trauma, PTSD
Forward but Never Forget/XOXO
Snippet:
Powder loved bundt cake.
Every year, at the Equinox Bazaar, she'd beg Mom for a slice from the stalls, even though coins were scarce. At Janna's Temple, she would sneak off and steal a piece from the open kitchens, despite knowing Mom would tan her hide if she found out. Or, if they had flour and sugar and time she'd beg Mom to bake it from scratch, and it was always the sweetest.
Then Mom stopped baking.
In the lean months before the Day of Ash, sugar was sold for six cogs a thimble. In a week, it cost ten. In a month, thirty. The price of survival doubled and redoubled. Soon, the bakeries could barely keep up. Then, there were no more bakeries: just shuttered windows and empty stalls. And then, no more Equinox Bazaars. No more open kitchens.
No Temple of Janna.
Some nights, Vi would've given anything for the taste of sugar on her palate. Nights when she and Powder would lay huddled face-to-face in bed, and talk of anything—anything but hunger. Other nights, the hunger was all they could think about, and they'd trade whispers about all the things they'd eat if they could. Vi had her favorites: a hot bowl of sump-vole stew, or a whole roasted squab, or creamy butter biscuits. Powder had her favorite too: bundt cake, bundt cake and more bundt cake.
"The way Mommy makes it is the best," she'd say, back when they had a mommy who could make bundt cake. "It's all crispy at the bottom, and soft and warm at the top. And when you bite into it, it's like a cloud. A fluffy, sweet, melty cloud."
"Powder, stop." Groaning, Vi would drag a pillow over her face. "You're making me hungry!"
"But it's so yummy. It's better than yummy. It's the bundist bundt cake ever."
"It is. But we can't have it. Not now."
"Why not?"
The plaintive quaver in her little sister's voice was the only thing that could drag the pillow off Vi's face.
"Because—because it's hard to buy stuff. Mom told us: everything is getting too pricey. And most shops don't sell sugar or flour or eggs, anymore. So..."
"But once we have money, we can have it?"
"Sure," Vi would say, even though the lie hurt worse than the hunger. "We'd have all the cake we want."
Powder's little pink tongue would peep out between her teeth: the childish ardency in her expression was like someone wishing upon a shooting star.
"I'll make us money," she'd say. "Tons of it."
"How?"
"With my drawlings—" drawings "—and inventions and stuff. That's how."
Smiling, Vi would reach out to tweak her baby sister's nose. "Oh, yeah?"
"Yeah. And we'll have bundt cake every day. For breakfast and lunch and dinner. We'll have a huge stack of cakes, as tall as a building."
"We will, Pow." Vi's smile hurt worse than the lie, because she knew how much Powder wanted it to be true. "One day, we'll have it all."
And, as days came and went, they got their wish.
At a price.
On the Day of Ash—the eve of the uprising—everyone gathered at the Last Drop. They'd attended as family: merchants, miscreants, mendicants, shoulder-to-shoulder. That was the dream: a city of equals. A nation unto itself. They'd sat at Vander's scarred wooden table, elbows polishing the edges. There were bowls of mushroom stew thickened with cream, and platters of boiled greens, and crusty brown rolls still steaming from the oven.
And there was bundt cake. A golden wheel as big as a wagon's, crowned with sugar icing.
In retrospect, the repast must've cost a fortune. The Lanes were in a stranglehold of rations. Vander must've pulled strings to get the supplies shipped in from the black markets. But that was Vander for you. When times got tough, he'd put the screws on. He'd bend the world to his will.
Anything to keep the Fissurefolk happy.
"This is our year," he'd said, holding the carving knife aloft. "Tonight, we'll fight. We'll win. And when the sun rises, this city will be ours."
The room erupted into cheers, and the beating of fists on wood. Vander had carved the first slice. It was so soft the knife sunk in like butter. He'd passed it to Mom, who'd broken it in half, and then passed it on to Vi, who'd split her half into quarters, to share with Powder. The cake was just as it should be: soft and fragrant and sweet.
Vi let it melt in slow-motion on her mouth, and thought, This is what life'll be like.
When the Lanes are free.
When the city's ours.
She and Powder had stuffed themselves until their cheeks bulged. Mom hadn't paid them mind. She and Dad were neck-deep in conversation. Vi remembered little beyond the low cadences of their voices, and the furtive glances they kept trading. The rest of the Drop was oddly quiet too. Ordinarily, such large gatherings presaged festive tavern ditties, foot-stomping reels and overflowing laughter.
Not that night.
That night, there was silence, and the occasional scrape of knives on plates. When they did talk, the pitch was barely above whispers, as if the walls might have ears.
As if death was on the prowl, beyond the bright ambit of their table.
Afterward, the plates were cleared, the tankards drained. Dad, humid-eyed and gravel-voiced, swept both Vi and Powder into his lap. A surprise. He was a deeply giving man: the type to turn his pockets inside-out if you were in a pinch. But he wasn't demonstrative. That was mom's purview.
That night, though, he'd been uncharacteristically touchy. He'd also smelled, for some reason, like metal polish. As if he'd spent the evening cleaning a gun.
He'd kissed them both, and ruffled their hair. Vi had noticed the tremor in his hand.
"Look out for your sister, eh?" he'd told Vi. "Keep her out of trouble."
By late evening, Mom had folded two slices of bundt cake into a napkin, and stowed it away in Vi's rucksack. Taking both Vi and Powder by the hand, she'd guided them down to the Drop's cellar. Inside, there were a gaggle of other children, and a few old-timers. Vi remembers glimpsing a knobbly-kneed boy her own age, with a bristling dark mane of hair and teeth too big for his mouth. Mylo. And next to him, the same age, a stout, square-faced boy with solemn eyes. Claggor.
Two strangers who would, in time, become the brothers of her heart.
But not yet. Not then.
That night, they were no more than strangers. The cellar was stuffy with them: thick with the staleness of tight-packed bodies and too many fogged breaths.
"This is a hiding place," Mom explained. "You'll be safe here."
"Safe from what?" Vi asked.
Mom hadn't answered. Perching on the staircase, she'd gathered her daughters close. Her features were composed. But her smile seemed screwed on too tight. Vi remembers how hard she'd squeezed her and Powder. Remembers the skid of her heartbeat, and the acrid sting of metal polish that clung to her clothes beneath her usual fruit-punch fragrance.
Just like Dad.
Above, Vi heard the rhythmic click-click-click like keys sliding home in locks. Only afterward had she understood it was rifle-bolts.
Mom had kissed her and Powder, three times each. Then, as the moon rose at the casement window, she'd bid them goodnight. Rising, she'd mounted the stairs to where a man waited, hands in pockets, his features shadowed with a hangdog grimness.
Vi had thought it was Dad: they had a similar build. But the man was smoking a brightleaf cigarillo, and Vi couldn't recall Dad ever touching the stuff.
Through the halo of smoke, his eyes met Vi's. Lips quirking, he flicked his cigarillo, and the glowing ember spun, spiraling down. Vi remembers how it hit the floorboards, and sparked like a tiny orange star, before winking out of existence.
And something strange, an epiphany in reverse, crept through her.
She knew then.
Knew, with the certainty only a child can possess, that something bad was coming.
"Look out for yourself, Pet," the man called out.
The timbre of his voice was weirdly familiar. Like a dream spun with motes of half-dissolved memory.
Then the cellar door swung shut.
The lantern were dimmed, one by one. The cellar plunged into gloom. There was a chorus of frightened whimpers from the children, and hushed murmurs from the old folks. Powder, reflexively, snuggled closer. Vi's arms passed around her. Together, they'd nestled in the corner, and finished the last slices of bundt cake.
"I'm scared," Powder mumbled, when the last crumbs were licked clean.
"It'll be okay."
"When's Mommy coming back?"
"Soon," Vi said. "She's just busy upstairs."
"With Daddy?"
"Yeah. They'll be back soon." Vi hoped the promise wouldn't choke her. "Everything's gonna be okay. Let's go to sleep."
Powder's voice was a wavery flute-note. "Will you sing me a song?"
"Which one?"
"Our favorite."
"Okay." Vi took a breath. She pushed the thoughts of Mom and Dad away. Right now, her sister was all that mattered. "But you gotta promise you'll go to sleep."
"Promise."
Vi closed her eyes. She could hear the ebbing soundtrack in the bar above: muffled voices, footsteps receding. Vi imagined her parents exiting the bar, arm-in-arm, the scent of bundt cake wrapping them in its own cozy embrace.
The Drop's door thudded shut, and all fell silent.
"Ready?" Vi managed.
Powder nodded. Vi began to sing.
Dear friend across the River…
She wasn't sure how long she kept up. Powder had fallen asleep midway. Vi had continued, a little voice inside warning that if she lapsed to silence, the world would end.
And so she'd sung until her throat was raw, and the lyrics a hoarse whisper. By the end, she must've succumbed to sleep. Because the next thing she knew, a blast split the night. Outside, the awful echoes rolled. A moment later, she smelled smoke. The stench, a blur of charred metal and burning timber, seeped into the cellar.
Cries of alarm and confusion spread. Powder jolted awake in her arms.
"What's happening?" she whimpered.
"Don't worry." Vi gathered her in. "Everything's fi—"
The gunfire began.
It came from far-off. At first, Vi mistook it for firecrackers. Then, with a chill certainty, she knew it was bullets. The shot-spaced reports multiplied. The smell of smoke thickened. From the cellar window, there was the unmistakable glow of flames crawling their way through the sky. The children, woken from their fitful dozing, began crying. The old-timers tried to calm them. But their own terror was a contagion.
Outside, screams spread.
Screams that went on and on—and ended with a sudden bone-juddering boom.
"Mommy," Powder sobbed. "Daddy!"
Vi circled her close. "Sssh. It'll be okay. Everything will be—"
Above, the Drop's door slammed open. Boots thundered overhead, cutting through the children's sobs. Vi saw the old-timers tense. An elderly Yordle with a cane mounted the cellar stairs. The delineations of an antique pistol were visible under the band of his trousers.
He put a finger to his lips. Then, slowly, he withdrew the weapon.
Below, the remaining adults corralled the children into a flock. The old-timer reached the topmost step. His free hand was on the doorknob, ready to pull it open. His jaw was set. There was a resoluteness about him that Vi would later understand as the knowledge of imminent death.
The cellar door burst open.
On the other side were no Enforcers. Just a girl. Or, as Vi would later think of her: The Girl.
Nao.
She'd been only twelve years old then, and scrawny as a rake. Her cat-eyes held the adrenalized wildness of a hunted animal. The terror leaping off her was palpable. For a moment, she just stood there, panting.
"Dead," she choked out in Va-Nox. "All dead."
The old-timer's shoulders squared. "Steady, girl. What's happened?"
"We're dead. We're—" Nao's eyes skated across the cellar. She spotted the other children, and her voice hitched. "They ambushed them. The Enforcers. They were ready. Gunfire. Everywhere. All over. Then—then a grenade blast." Her breathing was ragged. "Everyone's dead."
"Where're the backup units?" the old-timer rapped. "Where's the Hound?"
"I—I don't know. I couldn't see anything. Too much smoke. I ran." A convulsion shook her. "I just ran."
"Easy." The old-timer squeezed Nao's shoulder. "Are the Enforcers still belowground?"
A headshake. "They're on their way back up. They've killed everyone. Cut us all down." Tears streaked Nao's face. "All of us. Dead in the streets. On the Bridge. Everywhere." She started to sob. "We never had a chance."
And Vi, cradling Powder, had felt her childhood crash.
And burn.
And yet, worse was to follow. Hers and Powder's feet, traversing the alleys of a city in flames. A city that, in a night, had mutated into a nightmare. The streets were strewn with bodies. Flames crackling; smoke rising. In the aftermath, they'd all spread out. Strays and stragglers crawling from the corners, in search of their loved ones.
Vi held Powder's hand, and made her cover her eyes with the other.
Then she'd led her sister, through the red-tinged haze, from body to body. She saw faces she'd known. Faces she'd barely recognized. Friends. Playmates. Neighbors. And, in the distance, the echoes of Enforcer boots. The crack of their rifles. And their silhouettes, receding into the gloom.
Back to Piltover.
There were bodies on the Bridge. So many, they formed a carpet. A macabre red road straight to Hell. Some corpses, charred and broken, were strewn along the embankments. Others bobbed in the murk of the river. The wind carried a strange stench, a smell that reminded Vi, irrationally, of bundt cake. Smoky, soggy, warm.
Beneath ran the undercurrent of iron.
Blood.
At the Bridge's epicenter, where the bodies were thickest, Vi saw a silhouette loom. A broad-shouldered goliath with mallets for fists. He was swinging lefts and rights, clearing a path through the carnage. A man, bleeding, struggled beneath him.
Crack went the fists, encased in gauntlets. Crack went his feet, clad in spiked-steel greaves.
Crack, crack, crack—and the man was no more.
Terror spewed stickily inside Vi's chest. Her grip tightened on Powder's hand.
Then the goliath turned, and Vi recognized Vander. The flames, playing off his hard-hewn jowls and bristling brows, gave him a ferocious aspect. He resembled hound forged in flames: heated, hammered and honed for a single brute utility.
Then his eyes met Vi's.
All at once, the violence leeched out of him. In the span of heartbeats, he somehow shrunk from a looming giant to a dejected man.
Slowly, he lumbered forward. His eyes held Vi's. A miserable query passed between them.
Vander jerked his chin.
That was when Vi saw her.
Mom.
She was lying on the Bridge's flagstones, arms outflung. Her face, uptilted, staring sightlessly into the sky. Blood spooled in a thin line from the corner of her mouth.
Vi's breath congealed. Her legs locked. She wanted to run. To scream. To turn back the clock, and undo everything from that awful night. Except, her body was rooted, and her brain, a blank. She could only stand there, caught in a paralytic loop, as the seconds stretched into infinity.
She hadn't cried in the cellar. Hadn't cried during the blast. Hadn't cried all the way through the city's death throes.
But here, now, it was different.
This was Mom.
Vi gasped, and there was no more air. Her knees gave out. Then Powder's little arms were around her, and the sobs began.
She remembers Vander's gauntlets falling, and his arms gathering her close. Remembers the rough, reassuring span of his body, and the strength with which he hefted her and Powder away. Remembers how safe she'd felt, despite the inferno smoking at her heels.
Now, Vi remembers something else. A moment, before the smoke engulfed the bridge, when her eyes locked on the sprawl of Mom's body. How her arm lay outstretched, fingers reaching. A final, involuntary gesture, as if straining to touch the hand of a loved one. As if, in her last breath, she'd sought a rescue that was too far.
Vi remembers, too, the man.
The man from the Drop. The one with the hangdog grimness and the brightleaf cigarillo. The one whose lips had quirked when he'd looked at Vi. Whose eyes, blue, had met hers, and softened with something that wasn't quite farewell, but wasn't quite anything else either.
The man was splayed on his belly. His blood had pooled and merged with Mom's. His arm, flung outward, was a mirror of hers. Their hands, in perfect alignment, nearly touching like the clasp of a broken necklace. Or like two ends of the same fuse.
And between them, a star-shaped blot of blackness where the explosion had gone off.
A grenade blast.
37 notes · View notes
raineandsky · 11 hours
Text
#113
tw: kidnapping
“Um,” the villain says as he flicks the living room light on. “What are you doing in my house?”
The hero scowls. “Well, it’s not like I tied myself up and put a bow on my own head, is it?”
And in one of the villain’s own dining room chairs, no less. Couldn’t he at least bring his own? “I don’t know,” the villain says slowly, to the hero’s offence, “you might have.”
“Please tell me you’re joking.”
“I don’t know! Tell me what you’re doing in my house!”
“I don’t know either!”
“There is an alarming lack of information here, [Hero].” The villain steps forward to study the knot in the ropes on the hero’s wrists—just a plain, normal knot. Nothing extravagant, nothing telling. “How do you not know?”
“Well, unfortunately, [Villain], I have spent most of this experience unconscious,” the hero snaps a little harsher than necessary. “I woke up, like, five minutes before you got here.”
The villain tuts, moving his interest onto the comically large bow on the hero’s head. This would’ve been a perfect chance to laugh at him if it wasn’t somehow happening inside the villain’s house.
The villain’s just about to hit the hero with a barrage of questions—with the inevitable “I don’t know”, of course—when answers present themselves in the form of the supervillain.
“Ah, you’re home,” they say brightly. A pair of stout glasses are in their hands, generously topped up with what is undoubtedly whiskey. “How do you like your gift?”
The villain throws a glance at the hero. He looks as lost as the villain feels. “My gift?”
“You’ve been working hard recently, [Villain].” They offer him a glass and he takes it without question. “I thought I could at least acknowledge the positive impact you've had on our little business. On me.”
The hero scoffs but they both ignore him. “What…” The question’s going to sound insane, but this situation is insane enough to warrant it, the villain thinks. “What am I meant to do with a… person?”
The supervillain hums thoughtfully, casting a glance about the room. “Well, I was looking around your place and thought you could use a maid.” They laugh at the scrunch of offence in the villain’s face. “Oh, I’m kidding, [Villain]. Maybe they could be target practice, a pet, a plaything.” A sip from their glass. “Anything your mind can conjure.”
The villain tries to look at the hero like he’s thinking on it. The hero watches him back like he’s trying to read his mind.
The supervillain takes another swig of their drink. The villain copies them before they can notice that he’s avoiding it like it’s poison. It sure tastes like it; it burns the whole way down.
“Any ideas?”
The villain taps the glass to his chin with a tut. “A dog would be nice.” The supervillain snorts a laugh, and the hero’s desperate expression turns flat with horror. “I’m sure I can find a nice collar for him.”
“A shock collar, I hope,” the supervillain suggests with a grin. “Oh, I’m so glad you like it, [Villain]. You deserved a little something for everything you’ve done for me.”
This is more than a little something, but the villain doesn’t bother correcting them. “I love it. Thank you.”
“No darling.” A smile; soft, affectionate. “Thank you.”
The supervillain gives him a pat and sets their glass down on the coffee table. “I have business to attend to. I just wanted to see your reaction.” They make for the door, though the villain’s not convinced that’s how they got in. “I’ll see you tomorrow—keep me updated on how you train them.” And with a wink and one last smirk, they disappear outside and off into the evening.
The hero’s gaze snaps to the villain the moment they’re gone. “A dog?” he demands.
The villain carefully unties the bow on his head, collecting the ribbon in a giant red bundle in his arms. “Yeah,” he says brightly. “Are you going to bolt if I untie you?”
“You called me a dog. I’ll goddamn make like one the moment that door’s open.”
The villain shrugs nonchalantly. “Binds stay on, then.”
“Wait, no—” The hero’s voice is bordering on a cry. The villain doesn’t hate the sound of it. “No, sorry, I just— you want me to be your dog.”
“I do.” The villain smiles innocently. “My guard dog.”
That gives the hero long enough pause for the villain to take his knife to some of the rope. “… Guard dog.”
“You’ll be my bodyguard.” The first wisps break free under his blade. “You’ll work for me, cover my back, whatever I need you to do.”
“You want me to… defend you?”
The villain can’t help but smirk. The ropes split, freeing the hero’s hands. “If you don’t like it, [Supervillain] had plenty of good ideas.”
“No!” It comes out faster than the hero seems to have thought it. “No, I– I can do that.”
“That’s what I like to hear.” The villain sighs contentedly, giving him a mocking pat on the head as he gets back to his feet. “Good boy.”
40 notes · View notes
ataliagold · 1 day
Text
But My Heart Is Just A Little Boy
Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson
Rating: Teen (swearing)
W/C: 2012
Tags: Established Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, hurt/comfort, Steve Harrington has dyscalculia, Steve Harrington has self esteem issues, Steve Harrington needs a hug, fluff, light angst, DnD, Mike and Dustin are a little mean here
Notes: Just slowly posting some of my AO3 stuff here as well :) Title from Rattlesnake by Jack Van Cleaf.
___
Steve joining in on Eddie’s campaign was supposed to be a nice surprise for his boyfriend.
And it was; Eddie’s face had lit up with joy when Steve had walked in and sat down with the kids around the table. Steve had taken the dice Dustin had loaned him and lined them up in front of him, from the D4 (the funny triangle one) up to the D20 (the one with heaps of sides, Steve reminded himself.)
If he kept them in that order it would help him pick the right dice quickly, he’d decided.
Because he wanted this to go to perfectly.
Eddie had been asking him to join in on a game for months, but Steve had so far refused, only coming along sometimes to watch quietly. There were parts of it that piqued his interest – namely the combat and the creatures Eddie planted into the game, because some of them were so damn cool even if Steve wouldn’t readily admit it out loud. A small part of him, a much younger part that had loved fairy tales and stories about knights and dragons and sword fights before his father had confiscated those books, deeming them too childish, watched with a quiet giddiness as the kids battled all manner of beasts.
But much of the game was so complicated - there were so many numbers, and Steve had no idea how Eddie and the kids managed to keep track of everything, how they added dice values together so damn quickly and kept track of a seemingly endless list of stats and bonuses and modifiers, whatever the hell they were.
Eddie knew about his difficulty with numbers. He’d seen the way Steve had to count with his fingers, how it took him far too fucking long to do a simple equation, how he stood in Melvald’s staring at the price of something just trying to make the numbers make sense so they wouldn’t blow their grocery budget.
And Eddie was patient, always. But D&D was Eddie’s realm, his place to shine, and Steve was so worried about holding him back and ruining the game every time he had to pause to add two fucking dice together.
Finally, he’d caved. Secretly, with Dustin’s help, he’d put a character sheet together. He’d made a paladin because Dustin had told him it suited him. Steve made him strong and lawful good, just like the knights he used to read about as a little boy. Dustin had rolled his eyes a little at that but Steve had been quite proud of what he’d put together.
Plus, Dustin had promised to help him with the math.
But here Steve was, well over an hour into the campaign, and he was struggling.
Cheeks burning, he turned to Dustin yet again.
“Wait, which one am I rolling?” he whispered.
Dustin rolled his eyes. The kid had been patient at first, but it was beginning to wear thin.
Steve was beginning to wear thin.
“The D10, Steve,” Dustin hissed.
“Right,” Steve nodded, grabbing for one of the dice.
“That’s the D8, Steve,” Mike said wearily.
Steve’s cheeks flushed even hotter, and he grabbed the other dice, rolling it quickly.
“Ahhh...seven,” Steve announced.
“You slash at the goblin, your blade cutting deep into its chest, the creature gurgling and reeling backwards…” Eddie leant over the table, giving a dramatic recount of events.
Steve smiled, unable to help it. His boyfriend was having such a good time, and even if Steve wasn’t enjoying himself so much, well, that was ok. He could do this, for Eddie.
“…but it scrabbles back to its feet, weak but alive,” Eddie finishes.
Mike groaned and slapped the table.
“It has to be almost dead,” Lucas announced.
“Yeah, but there’s still four others,” Mike pointed out.
“This one must be on two hit points or less,” Will surmised.
How did he know that? Steve frowned, let the kids talk amongst themselves. His gaze wandered over to Eddie, watching him lean back in his chair, eyes shining. He shot a wink at Steve when he caught him looking, then frowned a little, obviously noticing Steve wasn’t looking all that comfortable.
You ok? He mouthed at him.
Steve nodded quickly.
But he felt small.
Grow the fuck up, you’re fine.
“…Steve!” Mike groaned.
Steve’s attention snapped back to the kids. “What?”
“Stop staring at Eddie and tell us how many hit points you’ve got left.”
“Um…” Steve glanced down at the piece of paper in front of him. He’d scribbled some numbers down like Dustin had told him to every time his character had taken damage, but there were a lot of numbers there and he wasn’t sure they all actually related to his hit points…
“Give it here,” Dustin snatched the paper from him impatiently, peering down at it.
Steve waited while Dustin assessed his work, the feeling vaguely reminiscent of being back in school, his teachers reading over his work with a disappointed shake of their heads.
“This can’t be right, Steve,” Dustin sighed. “It says you’re on twelve hit points…is that a twelve? Your writing’s messy.”
Steve nodded. “Yours isn’t much better, pea-brain,” he mumbled, just to shoot something back at the kid.
Dustin narrowed his eyes at him. “You must have less than that because of the damage you took in the last round. You’re probably down to…eight at the most, by now.”
“Just make it eight, then,” Steve grumbled.
“Eight it is, big boy,” Eddie agreed.
“It doesn’t work like that, though,” Mike huffed. “You actually have to keep track of this stuff Steve, there’s no point playing if you just make the numbers up.”
“It doesn’t matter, really,” Will tried to intervene quietly. “It can just be eight.”
Dustin picked up his pencil, drawing some columns on Steve’s paper. “Ok, so just use this one column to keep track of damage, don’t write all over the page. There’s your total hit points at the top, and every time you take damage, write it down under there, ok? And then just take it off the total. Simple.”
Like it was that fucking easy. Maybe for them, it was. They didn’t get every number mixed up in their brain, they didn’t stare at a single digit trying to put some numeric value behind it and coming up with zilch.
Dustin was trying to help, Steve knew. But his tone of voice was so fucking condescending that it had Steve squirming in his seat, wishing he was anywhere else.
He felt Eddie’s eyes on him.
“Come sit by me, Stevie, I’ll help you keep track.” Eddie said gently.
“You’ll just go easy on him, and that’s not fair!” Mike whined.
“Can it, Wheeler,” Eddie snapped at him.
“Just because he can’t do basic math.”
“Right, you get to roll with disadvantage now, just for that,” Eddie told him smugly.
Mike was retorting with something, but Steve didn’t hear it.
His pulse was thumping in his ears, his cheeks on fire. The years were stripped from him, the sensitive child he’d tucked away inside a long time ago forced to the surface.
“Look, just carry on without me,” Steve muttered, and stood up quick enough that his chair scraped on the floor.
“Steve -” Dustin started, but Steve was finished, striding towards the stairs and blinking back tears.
He wasn’t going to cry in front of the kids, not over a fucking game, not over something his boyfriend loved so much.
But they were coming faster than he could blink them back as he headed out of Mike’s stuffy basement and out to the driveway, the cold night air caressing his flushed face.
This was supposed to have been a treat for Eddie. It was supposed to be fun, and Steve had ruined the night by being fucking stupid.
A tear tracked down his cheek , Steve losing the battle against them. He’d just drive home, he decided. Steve had come straight from work that day, so Eddie had come separately in his van, he wouldn’t be inconvenienced.
And then they could finish their game in peace, without having to treat Steve like a five-year-old.
He was getting in the driver’s seat when Eddie ran to him, both hands reaching for him.
“Stevie…” Eddie murmured softly.
“I’m sorry,” Steve mumbled, dragging his sleeve across his face, smudging the tears there.
“Why? The kids were being assholes, I’ve already yelled at them.”
Steve shook his head. “I was just slowing everyone down, they were getting frustrated, I get it.”
“No, sweetheart, they were being rude,” Eddie corrected him. “Especially Wheeler.” Eddie brushed his thumbs across Steve’s cheeks, crouching down beside the open driver’s door. “I’ve told them to pull their heads in. Do you…do you want to come back inside?”
“Eds…” Steve leant into his hands a little. “I’m no good at it. I really wanted to try, for you, and I’m so sorry I ruined it, but there’s too many numbers and I can’t keep track of everything and it takes me so fucking long and it’s embarrassing because I can’t even keep up with a bunch of kids, and I just feel like I’m back at school again.”
Eddie cupped his cheeks again, tilting Steve’s head to look at him. “Hey. You haven’t ruined anything, they did. I’m so happy you came along tonight, because I know you did it for me. But look, D&D doesn’t have to be your thing -”
“But -”
“It doesn’t,” Eddie cut in. “Just like…your balls in laundry basket games aren’t mine. But I like hanging around while you and Wayne watch them, and I love how excited you get about it, and how you sit there with that fucking pretty smile…”
Steve huffed out a small laugh, and Eddie grabbed his wrist to press a kiss to the inside of it.
“But I don’t know what’s going on most of the time,” Eddie continued. “It makes you happy, and that’s enough for me. So, I don’t want you to feel like you have to play D&D just for me if it’s not something you enjoy. It’s more than enough that you listen to my ideas, that you help me write -”
“I don’t really,” Steve said quietly.
“You do! Or have you forgotten who came up with that fucking amazing twist with the elven prince?”
“I got it from a movie,” Steve argued.
“So? I didn’t think of it, and it had the little shrimps completely stumped.”
Steve managed a small smile. “I do like some of the stories,” he admitted quietly. “But I think…I just wanna go home, ok? You can carry on.”
Eddie shook his head. “I’m gonna get them to pack up in there. I’ll drop them home, then follow you back, ok?”
“Steve?” came Dustin’s voice from behind Eddie, small and hesitant.
Steve quickly straightened up in his seat, wiping a hand across his face.
“Yeah, buddy?” he replied, his voice a little hoarse.
“I’m…I’m sorry. That we weren’t more patient. It’s ok if you struggle with numbers, and we should’ve helped more.”
“It’s ok, Dusty,” Steve told him.
Eddie frowned, reached down to squeeze Steve’s hand, then turned to Dustin. “It isn’t ok,” he argued. “But it was nice of you to apologize.”
Dustin nodded. “If you want to try again sometime, I promise I’ll help more. I…I really liked having you play.”
“Thanks,” Steve managed.
“Tell Wheeler to start crafting his apology too,” Eddie said firmly, still cradling Steve’s hand in his own. “Otherwise he’s rolling with disadvantage for the whole next session.”
Dustin’s eyes widened a little before he nodded.
After packing up, the kids waited sheepishly by Eddie’s van. Eddie stayed crouched next to Steve a moment longer.
“Go home, get comfy on the couch, and pick out any movie you want to watch, ok?” Eddie murmured to him. “When I get home I’m gonna order us some pizza, and I’m gonna cuddle the shit out of you, understand?”
Steve laughed softly. “Sounds perfect.”
“Good. I’ll see you soon, sweetheart.”
___
31 notes · View notes
Text
tidbit tuesdayyyyyy
tagged by @sibylsleaves and @dangerpronebuddie <3
oh perhaps the penultimate chapter of don't just stand there has some feelings???? some emotions???? some tenderness?????
His boyfriend chuckled. "If you miss me this much when I go start on breakfast, you're going to have a really hard time this weekend." Buck groaned, cracking one eye open. "Don't go. Stay home. Stay in bed, actually. With me. Safe and sound." Tommy sat on the edge of the bed, carding his fingers through Buck's hair. He was already dressed, showered, and shaved, and it was breaking Buck's heart a little bit. "Safe and sound, huh? I thought you promised me you weren't going to worry." Buck grimaced. This was the first time Tommy was going on special deployment since they'd started dating - he was heading all the way to Canada, to the out of control wildfires decimating northern Alberta. And Buck had promised not to worry when Tommy had told him the night before, but he's been up half the night remembering the bone-deep, icy panic when Hen's chopper had gone down outside San Angelo, the desperation with which they'd searched for her and the Texas captain, seeing her unconscious in that old mine shaft... "Hey," Tommy said gently, his other hand taking Buck's where it was squeezing Tommy's pillow. "Evan, I'll be okay. I'm very good at my job."  "I know," Buck said lowly.  Tommy leaned in, forcing Buck to make eye contact with him. "Hey. You think I worry about you, when you hang from the side of a high-rise or throw yourself into a burning semi truck?" To be fair, Buck had only done each of those things once since they got together (okay, the high-rise happened twice, but it was LA, there were a lot of high-rises).  "Uh, yeah," Buck said, turning over to face him better. "I think you do worry about me. Probably has something to do with you meeting me on the scene and scooping me into your arms, saying oh Evan, I was so worried - " "I did not scoop you - " "You did some scooping, Kinard," Buck teased. "Chim and Hen still haven't let me live it down."
tagging @usersiren and @bigfootsmom and @elvensorceress and anyone else who wants to hop in on this!
37 notes · View notes
plistommy · 1 day
Note
billy and eddie taking steve to paris?…OR eddie getting bold while he’s high and just straight up telling steve to suck his cock OR steve looking to donate some of his clothes comes across his Scoops uniform and decides to surprise eddie OR billy jerking off fantasising about steve and eddie going to bone town with each other.
”You won’t believe what I just found.”
Eddie was face deep on Corroded Coffin’s new songs notes that he had been scrambling with Gareth for the last two weeks - Jeff and Freak not wanting to be a part of it this time - that he hadn’t even noticed Steve walking into the room.
”Huh?” Eddie answered, thumb resting firmly on top of his bottom lip as he rewrote view lyrics, making them rhyme better together and it was finally looking pretty good.
He let out a groan as he leaned back, satisfied with the lyrics and looked up to the doorway where he knew his boyfriends voice came from.
His eyes snapped wide.
Steve was standing there, hands on hips and a small grin on his face, but that wasn’t what got him shocked. No.
It was what he had on.
Which was the tight little Scoops Ahoy uniform Eddie saw him wearing in that ridiculous commercial for the now burned down Starcourt Mall.
He had been too much of a pussy to set foot in the ice cream parlor that summer when he knew Steve was working there and he never got to see the goods in real life before shit had gone down.
Until now.
And fuck was Steve wearing it well.
It fit like a glove on him and those tiny shorts were already killing him as it had his boyfriend's long beautiful legs on display.
He needed for Steve to turn around so he could see—
”Ahoy!” Steve exclaimed suddenly, voice high and sweet as it pulled Eddie away from his thoughts.
Ahoy?
Eddie immediately felt his cock getting hard from just that.
Steve was the fucking death of him.
”Holy shit…” he murmured, mouth gaping and Steve laughed at him as he walked next to the couch where Eddie was sitting. He leaned down to kiss his boyfriend's shocked expression, still giggling when Eddie didn’t react.
”You like it? I think it’s ridiculous, but I had to try it on when I found it from my closet. I can’t believe it’s been like, three years and it still fits. I’m not even sure if anyone would want this…”
Eddie was just nodding along as he slowly took Steve in, now so much closer than before that he had to get his hands on him.
He slowly tugged the shorts and snapped them against Steve’s bare thigh which made the younger boy groan.
”Eddie, what are-?”
”So this is the famous little outfit you worked in?” Eddie moved his hands up to Steve’s waist, tugging the hem of the blue shirt which made Steve huff.
”I wouldn't say ’famous’, but yeah… I looked so stupid, man. Like, I even had a hat, but I lost it. The only good part was that these shorts fit really well even though they’re really tight.”
Eddie had to bite back a groan as Steve mentioned the shorts. They were indeed very tight, but just in the right places that Eddie had to mentally thank the person who came up with these uniforms.
”Turn around.”
”What?”
”I said turn around, baby.”
Steve didn’t need to hear it for the third time as he slowly turned around, Eddie’s hand guiding him and stopping him when he needed him to.
Now he really let out a groan.
Steve’s ass looked fucking amazing. Don’t get him wrong, his boyfriend’s ass always looks amazing, round and perfect, but something about the way these tiny little shorts hugged his ass was fucking sinful.
Now Eddie really cursed at himself for not having enough courage to go and order some damn ice cream back then so he would’ve seen Steve like this.
He would’ve ordered something real special so Steve would’ve had to bend over to get it and Eddie would have that image of his perfect ass to jerk off to every night.
Or maybe he would’ve just taken him there. Ripped those shorts apart and bended him over the counter as he fucked him silly just to see his ass giggle with every hard and deep thrust he’d—
”Eddie? Hey, Eddie!”
Shit.
Steve was looking down at him from behind his shoulder, eyes big as he questioned Eddie, ”What is it?”
Eddie glanced up at him and down to the ass in front of him before a sly grin pulled its way into his face.
He squeezed Steve’s ass softly before pulling the other down to sit on his lap, arms wrapping around Steve’s body.
Steve let out a soft gasp, but relaxed into his arms as Eddie kissed his neck.
”You’re really something, sweetheart.”
Steve wiggled on top of him, a clear blush creeping up onto his face. He loved when Eddie called him pet names.
”And what’s that?”
Steve loved to challenge Eddie even if he knew he’d always lose.
”You come to me…” Eddie started, hands roaming on Steve’s body until they stopped on top of his bare thighs, ”in this tiny little uniform, acting all sweet and innocent, knowing how it would make me feel.”
A laugh. Steve’s laugh.
”I wouldn't know that. I just wanted to show you this…” Steve said, voice soft like honey as he slowly rubbed Eddie’s arm that was holding him in his place.
”Oh, you wouldn't?” Eddie chuckled and grinded his hips against Steve’s ass, making sure the other knew just how hard he was under his jeans.
Steve let out a soft moan out of surprise and immediately started to meet his movements, but Eddie stopped him.
”Is this how you serve your customers?”
Steve whined and pouted like a brat. He tried to wiggle around, but he knew it wouldn’t get him anywhere when Eddie wasn’t budging.
Not even a please would help him this time.
So, he pulled his best smile and turned to look at Eddie, eyes glossy with need, ”Ahoy, sir! Welcome to Scoops Ahoy! What would you like to order? W-we have banana split, popsicles, shakes—”
”Mm, that all sounds very delicious, but I think I’ll just get a regular ball, a chocolate one with a cherry on top. And…”
”And?” Steve grits out, voice heavy.
”And stuff it with cream. I want it full of it so it’s dripping down from the sides.”
He saw the way Steve swallowed back a moan and he took that as a big fucking win.
”G-great! That will be 4 dollars and 50 cents!”
”Here you go, darling.” Eddie purred into his ear and Steve closed his eyes tightly. He was really trying to control himself that it almost made Eddie feel bad.
Almost.
”Thank you! Here’s your ice cream with the e-extra cream and cherry. Have a n-nice day!”
Eddie finally let go of the hold he was having over Steve and Steve immediately went into action. He turned around on Eddie’s lap, hands finding their way into the other’s long dark brown hair as he tugged it back.
”You’re mean.”
Eddie grinned and squeezed Steve’s hips.
”You love it, sailor. Now…” He slowly tugged Steve’s shorts down and gave a little lick to his bottom lip.
”Can I fuck you in this ridiculously hot uniform? It’s killing me.”
”Oh you are feeling desperate, huh?” Steve pouted as he looked down at Eddie, ”How about how you made me act two minutes ago?”
”Baby, c’mon. You know I wanted to know what it was like to be served by you.”
Steve rolled his eyes.
”You could've just come when I was actually serving.”
”I was too shy.” Eddie confessed, not caring about it because he knew Steve would never judge him for anything. And he didn’t wanna lie, not to Steve. Even if it was kind of embarrassing.
Steve's face softened, so did his hold on Eddie’s hair and he gave him this soft smile, ”Oh yeah?”
A nod, ”Yeah.”
Steve leaned down and soon soft lips were on his and Eddie just melted into the kiss. He loved to kiss his boyfriend, it was his favorite thing ever.
”What would you have done if you came and saw me like this back then?” Steve whispered against his lips once he pulled back.
He had this hopeful gleam in his eyes that made Eddie feel all sorts of emotions. Good ones, of course.
”Honestly? Freaked the shit out…” Eddie answered and Steve laughed, ”but, if we’re talking about what I would’ve wanted to do… I would’ve bend you over the counter, right were the ice creams are and fucked you in front of all the customers. I would’ve made them know who owned you and who gets to touch you instead of them.”
If the loud cry from Steve wasn’t obvious, the boy on top of him was getting really worked up again. And Eddie was loving every second of it.
”Fuck, Eds, ah- you need to fuck me right now.” Steve whined out, grinding his ass down to Eddie’s dick once more and like Eddie had said before…
Steve and his stupid slutty Scoops Ahoy uniform was going to be the death of him.
23 notes · View notes