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donatellawritings · 2 months

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tella baby it’s ♡ anon I LOVE SWEETHEART READER but J was wondering what if Rafe were with an Americana aesthetic reader? I imagine her being a very vintage-esque girl who loves picnics, farm work, listening to Lana, thrift shopping, sucking lollipops, wearing small shorts and denim skirts, just your typical girl next door OMG sorry if this is too long of an ask I can send a shorter one ahhhhhh ♡ ♡

this is perfect! ugh i love this sm <3

rafe had met you, through the likes of his sister, sarah — she’d stumbled upon your parents’ land during one of her bike rides through figure 8, her lips parted in awe at the sight of you brushing the shiny coat of your white camarillo horse, who’d she quickly learn was named ‘leche’ a silly name that stuck since you first got the horse as an innocent child. that one question about your beloved horse, was all it took for you and sarah to become engrossed in an hours-long conversation about anything and everything. she fell in love with everything about you — your big bombshell hair, cutesy doll lashes, skimpy baby pink polka dot bikini top, and even skimpier daisy dukes, all the way down to the adorable butterfly belly button ring that adorned your tummy.

the moment you’d exchanged the pleasantries of learning each other’s names, sarah was quick to make you her very best friend, your latin tongue making itself known as you spoke, leaving the perky blonde even more entranced by you — making sure that you had her phone number, before she pressed a sweet kiss to the side of your horse’s nose, turning to send you a small wave as she got back on her bike, pedaling her way back to tannyhill. the two of you were pathetically giddy and the potential of your budding friendship, you both were left giggling into the late hours of the night, before ending the call with plans for you to teach sarah how to ride a horse, tomorrow. it wasn’t until you had been friends for about six months, that sarah decided that you should come over to her house for once, she’d grown to accustomed to the judgement-free air that came with being on the farm with you.

sure, you lived on figure 8, but your family’s property teetered on the fine line of being considered part of the cut, but your parents were insistent on you being in an environment where you could experience the lavish side of life. so, as you got to know sarah cameron, the daunting thought of stepping foot inside of tannyhill had left you a nervous mess as you meticulously dolled yourself up. latin music flowed softly through your speaker as you squeezed your tube of glittery lipgloss between your sparkly cotton candy pink acrylic nails, precisely smearing the sticky gloss across your swollen lips, mushing them together before your pulled away from the mirror of your vanity with a content sigh.

carefully clasping your rosary around your neck, you gently combed your nails through the ends of your perfectly curled hair, before smoothing your hands down your strapless micro dress, the lace and silk lined cups that confined your breasts, adorned with a neatly sewed bow, pushing them up cutely against your chest as you slipped your feet into dainty white kitten heels, before rushing downstairs, your heels clicking against the hardwood floor as you stepped out onto your driveway, silently praying to yourself that you wouldn’t make an absolute fool of yourself. i mean, it was only meant to be an innocent lunch where you’d meet your best friend’s family — surely, in your little naive mind, you manipulated yourself into believing that nothing too bad could come from having lunch with the cameron family. right?

you were broken from your whiplash-inducing thoughts with parted sticky and swollen lips as the sound of sarah’s familiar car horn filled your pearl-earring adorned ears.

୨୧

with a sigh, sarah linked her arm through yours, biting down into her bottom lip as the two of you stepped inside of the grandeur that was tannyhill. before the two of you could exceed the confines of the foyer, she pulled away from you, suddenly overcome with the impending annoyance and embarrassment that came with introducing people to her family, specifically, her older brother. your dolly lashes fluttered together as your eyes softened with confusion.

before sarah could speak, the staggering height of ward cameron stopping behind sarah came into your line of vision, your lips parting as he clasped a fatherly hand down onto his daughter’s shoulder as she forced a warm smile at you, “hi sweetie,” he pressed his lips to sarah’s head, squeezing her shoulder before he pulled away from sarah, extending a firm hand in your direction, “s’a pleasure to finally meet you, i’m mr. cameron,” ward smiled, nodding approvingly as you revealed your name, enveloping your small hand around his as you politely shook his hand.

“hi mr. cameron,” you extended a courteous smile, fighting back a laugh as you watched sarah roll her eyes teasingly.

with a clap of his large hands, ward stepped to the side, “well, we don’t want to keep everyone waiting outside, your brother should be home soon, sarah,” ward breathes out a laugh, your wide eyes sparkling with awe as you walked through the grandeur main room of tannyhill. sarah allowed a giddy smile to pull on her pout as she took in your observant gaze. she loved how despite your status of living on figure 8, you remained humble, extending kindness to every person and animal you came across, so much so that it inspired her to treat even the smallest bugs with utmost respect.

“your home is beautiful, mr. cameron,” you beamed, lashes fluttering as you stepped out into the pristinely decorated backyard. your brief moment of shock once again overtaken by your meddlesome nerves as you approached the flower adorned table, smoothing your hands underneath the plush curve of your ass, before taking your seat beside sarah.

the table was quiet as your wiped your clammy hands against your dress, suddenly overcome with insecurity as sarah’s stepmother and younger sister stared at you, their eyes greedily drinking you in. with parted lips, you began to speak when wheezie suddenly cut in, “you’re really hot,” she blurted, your parted lips expanding into a flushed smile as sarah snorted beside you, a complete contrast from the stern and bewildered stares that wheezie received from ward and rose.

“that was so inappropriate, wheezie,” rose scolded with a displeased roll of her eyes, before turning to face ward who kept his stern eyes on wheezie who sunk into her seat.

you were quick to mouth ‘thank you’ to the younger girl, before turning your attention to ward who let out out a sharp sigh, running a hand over his face, before forcing a smile, “alright, well — my son should be home any minute, so please, feel free to help yourself to what’s on the table,” ward motioned to the array of salad, sandwiches, fruits, and pitchers of juice that covered the table. with a shaky hand, you poured yourself a glass of orange juice, licking over your glossed lips as sarah did followed suit, filling her glass.

just as you brought the glass to your lips, the sight of a tall young man, with greasy strands of hair fanning over his face approached the table, dressed in a black button up and khaki pants. fuck, he was hot. subconsciously your pressed your thighs together, focusing your attention on swallowing down the citrusy juice that flooded your tongue.

“nice of you to join us, rafe — have a seat, son,” ward spoke gruffly, watching closely as rafe took the seat at the opposite end of the table, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he took in your presence. his bright blue eyes immediately went the swells of your pushed-up breasts, before flickering up to meet your shy gaze, earning a disgusted scoff from sarah. ward did not miss his son’s inappropriate transgression, clearing his throat to gather the attention of the table, “son, this is sarah’s friend,” ward introduced you, rafe’s eyes remaining on yours as your name fell from ward’s mouth, causing rafe’s eyebrows to raise in intrigue as his head cocked to the side.

rafe decided that he had to toy with you, see if you truly were as light and airy as your physical appearance portrayed as he parted his pink lips, “yeah? how’d you get so lucky to meet my sweet sister, sarah?” rafe spoke, his tone pathetically condescending as he carefully watched you awkwardly shift in your sweet. you were a skittish one — he liked that.

with a forced and breathy laugh, you smiled politely, “she was riding her bike and she saw my horse, leche,” you answered truthfully, earning an amused chuckle from rafe that left you somewhat embarrassed. your doe eyes were quick to glaze as you swallowed thickly, before you turned to sarah.

“rafe, don’t be such a dick,” sarah spat, earning a corrective tut from ward as rafe glanced at his father with feigned confusion.

leaning forward, rafe focused his attention onto sarah, a tall knowing smirk on his face, “easy, sarah — m’just getting to know your little friend, i mean, isn’t that why she’s here?” rafe pushes further, returning his eyes to yours as your fingers fiddled with the silk trims that lined the hem of your dress. “she’s a big girl, i’m sure that she could speak up for her-” rafe began, before he was harshly cut off by the slam of ward’s closed fist colliding with the table, causing rafe to silence, his jaw clenched as he closed his eager mouth.

there was a part of you that felt bad for rafe, you almost felt responsible for his scolding, your soft eyes didn’t miss the way he flinched as ward hit the table. you could see that rafe just wanted attention, and you couldn’t bring yourself to ignore to subtle ache in your chest as he remained silent for the duration of the lunch, his eyes hanging low as the rest of the cameron family made polite conversation with you. it wasn’t until the entirety of the table went off to do their own thing, that you turned to rafe who blankly stared at his empty plate.

going against sarah’s wishes, you insisted on at least trying to talk to rafe and sarah knew that you’d simply felt bad for her brother — it was in your nature to want to fix anything that was broken. so, you remained seated, flipping your hair over your shoulder as your eyes feel on the gold signet ring that dressed rafe’s finger, “i like your ring,” you smiled, your core simmering as rafe brought his eyes to yours, his blank face empty of any definite expression.

“look — y’just a naive little girl who is my sister’s friend, not mine, y’understand?” rafe snapped, fighting back every urge not to bend you over the table as your glossed lips slightly quivered at his harsh words. your stomach churned with embarrassment as your eyes welled with hot threatening tears, “y’don’t speak to me, unless i speak to you, a’ight?” he spat, swallowing back the bitter guilt that became apparent in his tongue as you furiously nodded in your seat.

“okay,” you squeaked out, before hastily standing from your seat as you rushed to make your way back inside of the home, before rafe could see the fat tears that rolled down your blushy cheeks.

rafe knew that he had been a bit too harsh towards you, but he could tell that you needed some tough love — i mean, what was wrong with some redirection? your head was too far up in the clouds, and that would end up getting you into trouble that not even your pretty and swollen smile would be able to get out of. and what kind of a man would rafe be, if he didn’t look out for you, keep an eye out for you … even if it meant that he stole a glance up your dress as you tearfully walked away from him.

#♡ anon #asks #stoppp because americana!reader is so cute #rafe cameron prompt #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron #obx imagine #obx #americana!reader

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vintagepascal · 11 months

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the plan

AN - behold, my first fic! this is not my first go round in tumblr fanfic, but it is my first fic on this blog, so bare with me while I get my ducks in a row in terms of a masterlist and all of that jazz please. in the meantime, I hope you enjoy :)

word count - 2,500

rating - mature

content warnings - smut, no kinks involved (fluffy smut)

summary - pedro comes home after a few weeks of work and movie night takes a turn for the better (ao3 link if you prefer :) )

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He never would have asked, but it was habit. Or maybe pent up excitement was a better term for the prep work that always seemed to commence when you knew that Pedro would be home.

It was subconscious now, so much that you barely even registered that it had happened until a few days before he was scheduled to fly home. It made you smile to realize that over the days prior you’d been picking up small things here and there - his favorite foods, a new movie that you’d both been meaning to watch, a new blanket for the couch to cuddle up under, a good bottle of wine. Small things that would make for a perfect homecoming.

It never fully sunk in until the day of the flight, when that text that read “boarded” came through that made your breath come a bit easier and your heart feel a bit lighter. On that particular day, you had an easy day of work ahead of you that helped to pass the time, and only a few hours to kill once you got home. You made the most of your time, settling in quickly as your phone buzzed on the counter.

landed mi amor. should be home in an hour or so

You hearted the message immediately, excitement and relief washing over you simultaneously.

sounds good baby, you wanna get dinner out or eat something here?

You watched as he typed.

Home please, don’t wanna share you yet.

You blushed at the thought.

What sounds good?

Just throw a pizza in the oven, or put in an order at Damascus and I’ll pick it up on my way in, whatever sounds better to you

Pizza then, it gets you home faster

He hearted your last message and went silent for a bit. You knew the routine well enough to know that it meant he was getting off the plane and into a car. So you busied yourself around the house, making it as cozy as you could with little touches you knew would make him feel good - fresh sheets, his favorite candle lit in the living room.

You got ancey 30 minutes later, deciding to change into something more comfortable. Any time emotions ran high, you went for your comfort clothes which were always Pedro’s.

You found yourself in one of his sweatshirts, a pair of soft running shorts and some of his polka dot socks, dancing around the kitchen as you put the pizza in the oven and tidied to pass the time.

When you heard the familiar jingle of keys you were putting plates on the counter and you felt the smile spread across your face immediately. You focused on slicing the pizza, wanting to give your man a moment to get in the door and settle before you ambushed him.

He wasted no time. As soon as he cleared the threshold he was headed for you, suitcase rolled to the side and eyes searching until he spotted you.

He was humming, a content sound that moved closer to your ear as he came up behind you, arms winding around your middle as he nuzzled into your neck, scruff just the right mixture of soft and rough and him against your skin. You melted into him, breathing him in as you turned around in his grasp. To your surprise, his grip tightened again, lifting you until you were sitting on the kitchen island.

You gasped as your bare thighs hit the cold granite, but Pedro caught it as he kissed you, cradling your face to tilt it down ever so slightly to meet him. He only let go to slide his hands down, down, down until he found your thighs, beginning to chafe his palms across the goosebumps that had spiked up suddenly in an attempt to warm you up.

“Lo siento, mi amor,” he cooed between kisses, but you didn’t care. You’d freeze before you moved from where you were in that moment. Instead you hooked a leg behind him, coaxing him closer to you, pinning his hips against the counter and holding him there as you slotted your fingers through his hair. You loved when the parts he played made him grow it out a bit longer, where you could feel his curls begin to peak through.

You kissed slow, purposefully, all the I missed you and I love you’s that you’d said coming to fruition with each pass of your lips. It didn’t matter how many times you’d done this, it still made your heart flutter each time he pulled back and pressed a gentle kiss right back to your lips, or brushed his lips to the tip of your nose. Each tiny gesture that made you feel loved, cherished, seen .

By the time you’d gotten enough of your fill, the pizza had gone cold, and the sun had already disappeared behind the buildings, but you didn’t mind. You stayed close for a moment, breathing each other in and reminding yourselves that you had days of this ahead of you - it was the only way you could convince yourself to stop.

“How was your flight baby?”

“Long, but comfortable. I sat next to a nice old woman from Mexico who I played uno with for an hour,” he said, leaving one hand on your thigh as he slid over and started serving the pizza onto plates. You both didn’t mind a cold slice anyways. Tucking your legs up onto the counter into criss cross, Pedro handed you your plate and settled next to you, leaning against it. “How was work?”

“Fine, it was a pretty easy day. Nothing crazy happened so that’s always good in my book. But it went surprisingly fast considering how ready I was for it to be done.”

“Ready for it to be done huh? Now why would that be?” He smirked at you.

“Oh no reason, can’t think of anything,” you rolled your eyes, reaching over to brush a crumb off his beard.

“You got big plans for the evening or something amor?” Pedro teased, inching closer to you.

“Hmmm, I was thinking scary movie, comfy blanket, couch cuddle?”

“Uh, yes, yes and yes. But, one condition.” He grinned at you, fingers trailing to the hem of your shorts. You quirked an eyebrow. “Less clothes,” he hummed.

“Deal,” you smiled, stealing a kiss before you climbed down.

“I’ll set everything up, you warm up the blanket,” he instructed, kissing your forehead. You did as you were told, stripping your shirt and shorts off and scurrying to the corner of the couch, settling in under the blanket and watching Pedro. He moved with a grace that always captivated you, even in the most mundane of tasks - it was nice to have constant eye candy around. It only got better once he got the movie started, lights off and pulled his shirt casually over his head, turning towards you.

He went to lift the blanket, but you swatted his hand.

“No pants zone under here,” you grinned, popping a foot out from the blanket as a guard as he undid his belt and dropped his pants, leaving him in just his boxer briefs.

He shivered dramatically, making you giggle as you lifted the blanket up for him to scurry under, slotting himself beside you carefully before he reached over to pull you against him entirely as the opening credits began to play.

You nuzzled up to his neck, basking in the feeling of his skin against yours as you found his hand, tracing his bullseye tattoo absentmindedly. He pressed kisses to your hair when you settled, and you felt the rattle of his laughter, heard it hum in his chest when you jumped at the first scary scene a few minutes later.

“It’s alright mi amor,” he teased, though you could tell his heart was beating a bit faster. “I’ve got you.”

“I know,” you hummed, letting out a sigh. Pedro held a great respect for movies - sometimes, it was more entertaining to watch him rather than the screen. He always got so engrossed in them, loved explaining and breaking them down while still letting you just enjoy them.

So it surprised you when you felt him readjust and slide down the couch a bit further. Even more surprising when he reached over and ran a finger along your jaw, turning your face to him so he could catch your lips with his.

Not that you were complaining. You ran your nails gently along his beard, tongues melding as he deepened the kiss, hips shifting as he got somehow closer to you, making you grin.

“Don’t like the movie, hmmm?” You teased against his lips, barely getting the words out before he was on you again, dropping more of his weight into you and pressing you in the cushions.

“Movie schmovie ,” he countered in a grumble, hands moving through your hair.

You took control then, a familiar dance that Pedro was more than happy to help you choreograph as you rearranged to straddle him. You perched there for a moment, hands on his chest, just taking in the sight of him - beautiful as ever, his curls contrasted against the light fabric behind him, the slight gray in his beard.

“What?” He asked.

“Nothing. I’m just looking at you.”

His blush was undeniable, and you laughed when he covered his face with both hands. You gently pulled them away, kissing each finger before Pedro pulled you down to kiss him again while keeping your hands trapped with just one of his.

Without breaking the kiss, he pulled a hair tie off your wrist and reached behind your head with gentle fingers, gathering your hair up and into a messy bun to keep it out of your face.

“There’s my girl,” he all but groaned, hands moving down to your hips, pressing you into him. It was as if someone had lit a fire - suddenly, neither of you could get close enough to one another.

A familiar rhythm began, a split between him pushing up against you and flattening down in a desperate plea to become one with him after what felt like so many nights aching to feel him through the screen.

“I missed you,” you breathed, pulling on his hair hard enough to make him gasp, arching his back just enough to tilt his head back into your hands. He wasn’t at your mercy though - in a swift move he sat up, bringing you with him and finding the back of your bra, guiding it off your shoulders and discarding it over the back of the couch.

You didn’t care enough to register the cold air, or the goosebumps brought on by the feather light scratch of Pedro’s fingernails down your spine with his left hand, because his right hand was on a mission you were much more preoccupied with.

His fingertips skimmed the top of your panties, making you whine.

“Pedro,” you whimpered, and you saw your favorite smug smile spread across his face as he gazed up at you.

“Words, mi amor.”

“Please,” was all you could think to say, your hips moving up towards him. “Don’t tease me, it’s been too long, please .”

He wasn’t good at denying you anyways, but when you begged he never stood a chance.

“Tell me what you need baby, and it’s yours.”

You were done talking. You showed him instead, lifting up just enough to reach between you and push his boxers down, freeing him. He got the message, reaching down to push the fabric the rest of the way off his legs.

Your panties were next - he didn’t bother trying to get them off. He simply ripped them down the side as if they were made of paper. You watched the muscles in his biceps ripple and you groaned, impatient.

Pedro’s hands skidded up your thighs, and you knew what he was after. A master of foreplay, you quivered at the memory, but you didn’t have the patience, not when you could practically feel the heat rolling off him right below you.

You shook your head, dipping down to distract him with a kiss and reaching between you again, lining up and sinking down with a sigh. The stretch was sweet, a satisfying sting that was worth the reaction you got to swallow from your boyfriend - his eyes rolled back, fingers digging into your thighs as he groaned, giving you the chance to nip at his neck.

“Fuck me,” he breathed, guiding you along him, arms moving to wrap around your torso as you rocked together. “God I missed this.”

Bracing with one hand he sat the two of you up, changing the angle in a way that made you bite into his shoulder to keep from screaming loud enough for the neighbors to hear.

Pedro sucked in a breath through his teeth, gaining leverage and thrusting up into you.

“Oh fuck,” you moaned, your forehead falling to his shoulder as you got lost in the rhythm that he kept you in, giving him control of your body - he knew it better than you by now anyways. It didn’t take long, between his hand between you with just the right about of pressure, his strong arm holding you steady.

“There you go baby, cmon give it to me,” he coached, rocking you strong and you tried to stay with him.

“Yes, yes yes yes fuck,” you cried. Pedro caught you as you arched back, holding you steady with both his hands as you came undone, legs shaking as he chased his own high, right behind you as he came with a final thrust.

The afterglow was blissful, despite the gentle aftershocks that still made your legs tremble. Pedro rubbed circles in the muscles of your thighs, peppering kisses to your shoulders as he tried to even out his breathing.

As gently as he could, he lifted you off of him just enough to settle you back onto his lap. Your lungs stopped burning after a moment and you leaned back just enough to meet Pedro’s eyes, immediately bursting into giggles at the look he gave you.

“Well that was… something.”

“Something huh? That was an ambush! I had a whole plan, I haven’t gotten to make love to you in weeks and we just fucked like teenagers on the couch!” Pedro laughed his way through his words, kissing your cheek as you blushed crimson.

“I love you, sue me,” you shrugged, shivering a bit as the AC kicked on. Ever the caretaker, Pedro noticed and wrapped the blanket around the two of you again.

“Do you want new panties or anything? Water? Towel?”

You shook your head, too comfy in that moment to care - if you made a mess, you’d clean it tomorrow. Pedro settled the two of you back into the corner of the couch, rewinding the movie by about fifteen minutes and re-immersing himself in it, but staying keenly aware of you.

But you were still glowing, satiated and happy for the time being just to be next to him, tracing shapes on his chest while he played with your hair and watched the screen.

It turned out to be a decent movie, and Pedro scooped you up bridal style when the credits played, making you smile.

“How’re you feeling mi amor?”

“Happy. Loved. Why do you ask baby?”

“Because now it’s time for my plan.”

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as always in the writing world, any interaction means the world!! please let me know your thoughts, and feel free to send a request if you have any :) I write for Pedro and currently for Joel, Din, Javi P, Javi G and Frankie!

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal imagine #my writing

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armythings-love · 3 months

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I’m gonna cry… I had an entire analysis for this typed out but my wifi is shit so it refused to post😭😭 anyways, this is based off of the @ladybugout-au permanent superhero team. I decided against doing Luka’s Cadmeancio suit because I 1. Didn’t want to draw him in orange and 2. I was already pushing it with making a purple/red Neurofoxin. Only reason I made her purple is because natural coloring obviously doesn’t mean shit to the character designers if Juleka gets to be a purple red tiger. Anyways, here’s my take on their suits!

Hecattack: I wanted to diverge from the furry/bdsm influences Chat’s suit got, so I gave him looser fit pants, a hood and combat boots. His suit was lowkey inspired by Red Hood’s design because, dammit, DC may be super dark, but they know how to design characters well (something MLB could stand to learn from ಠ_ಠ) anyways, along with the hood and paneled top+cargo pants+combat boots, I gave him cat-shaped knee pads, similar to Ivan’s turtle shell knee pads. You will also notice a trend with a lot of my hero suit designs, which is fingerless gloves. Yes, this’ll take away from the cat claw thing Chat had going on, but I’m ok with that. To go with his punk/rock band aesthetic, he got combat boots with the signature cat paw steel toes. His tail is pretty much the same along with the ears. His mask is also different, covering the bottom half of his face. This also takes away from the cat sclera thing the original Chat had, but Luka isn’t a furry so… also, the mask covering his mouth alludes to his calm nature and quiet personality, not feeling the need to play around, especially during a battle,which was where the original Chat erred most often. Luka also has very expressive eyes, so I wanted to push that, like, even if he doesn’t talk much, he’s still a good communicator. Plus, when cats are hunting, they’re quiet! Which the original Chat cannot relate to!

Ladybug: ok, so her suit is still pretty basic, since I wanted to stick with he AU’s canon description of her suit. The main bodice/legs are similar to the season 4 suit after she calls on the lucky charm, but the sleeves are slightly different. I also got rid of the “reverse” polka dots cuz they just look ugly imo. Her gloves are also fingerless, since I feel like that would 1. Lend better to doing yo-yo tricks and 2. They just look better (u_u) anyways, her hair is still the same, as well as her mask. It’s pretty basic but eh…

Neurofoxin: her design is also super simple, but I also wanted to veer away from the gaudy orange normally associated with the fox miraculous. If she can make her tiger suit purple and red, I can make her fox costume reddish purple!! She’s goth, she’s not gonna walk around in *o r a n g e*. And I stand by that. Anyways, like I said her suit is relatively simple, the panels of the suit modeled after Volpina’s actually, because despite how I hate Lila and her stupid sausage link hair, her volpina suit was pretty cute. Instead of giving her a jacket w/coattails or a belt/sash to be her tail, I decided to make it her hair, cuz even in civilian form it’s pretty long. I also decided that instead of a dark grey/black to purple, I’d make the tips the same cream as her “underbelly” panel, as I wanted to incorporate the cream in more than just that singular spot. I also pulled her bang back because even if she’s goth, she still needs to be able to see properly as a superhero. Plus, I like Juleka’s eyes, and I feel like Trixx would like her to show off more. Anyways, besides the morph suit and her hair being a bit longer than normal+a different color, she has a cropped leather jacket,same color as her suit. There’s also paneling on the side/back of her thighs/back that’s a darker red/purple color. Again, to go with her rockstar/alt aesthetic, I gave her combat boots as well, though hers are knee high, plus I forgot to draw the laces, but eh. Fun fact: I headcanon the Couffaine twins as being super tall for their age, but Juleka is taller than her twin for now+her boots are heeled.

Fukiya: for Kagami’s suit, I pulled inspo from someone else’s LBO AU fanart, although I can’t remember who’s it was. Originally, I was gonna go for a suit similar to Kagami’s fencing gear, but decided to go w the suit she has now so it’d be more reminiscent of a bee. I gave her a sleeveless, cropped kimono, the bottom of which has a honeycomb pattern and an ombré going from dark yellow to black. Her obi has two layers, the bottom layer being a bright yellow and the outside layer being black. Her sleeves are similar to Queen Bee’s, but with an added black line. Her legs are completely black with the exception of her knee pads, which are a bright yellow and octogon shaped. I wanted her to look more bee-esque than Queen Bee or Vesperia (her character design is 🤢) so I gave her the yellow torso with black limbs, than made the kimono collar thick to look like a neck ruff or smth. I honestly struggled with her design a bit but it looks ok in the end so I’m happy with it :) also, Kagami is the shortest because I said so!

Heavy Matal: oh, Ivan, you absolute teddy bear of a guy. I adore the Iván of this AU, he’s so sweet, a gentle giant, so I wanted to focus on making him look slightly softer than the rest of the heroes, despite being the turtle holder. I gave him his signature cargoes, although they’re pants instead of shorts when he’s transformed, a sleeveless hoodie, and “turtle”-neck compression-esque undershirt, the sleeves long enough to be, you guessed it, fingerless gloves! The only reason Kagami is the only one with full gloves is because I wanted to giver a more serious/conservative look. Mari’s been ladybug so long she deserves to have cute, fingerless gloves! Anyways, back to Ivan! His hoodie is two toned, like a turtle’s shell, with the front being a light green. It’s patterned to look like a turtle shell underbelly, with a nice big pocket to hold whatever. He wears elbow- and knee-pads, which are shaped like little turtle shells. He wears regular Vans-style tennies, and his mask is similar to Carapace’s, except it cover the majority of the front of his face (think Kid Flash), and is colored/patterned similarly to a box turtle, with red accents along his cheekbones and his little tuft of hair is his usual blond with an ombré to that same red. (Ignore the ear I forgot to color in plz, I don’t feel like editing anymore T-T)

Ok, so that’s it for today’s character designs! I’m working on redesigning pretty much everyone’s civilian and hero costumes. I haven’t mentioned on this blog, but on pretty much every Gabe!Salt fic I’ve read, I will tell you, whoever the hell designed most of the characters in MLB, you deserve to be fired and then arrested. I’m so sorry, but there’s no way ur gonna convince me Fashion Designer™️ Marinette Dupain-Cheng walks out of her house every day, wearing ugly ass ballet flats+”denim” jeggings in that shade of pink. No way. And don’t even get me started on Gabriel’s candy-cane, red pants and duck hair headass, because omg… that man is supposed to be a world renowned Fashion Designer™️, one of the best in Paris. IN. PARIS!! No fucking way. No way. I get, you want ur characters to be simple and easily recognizable, but that doesn’t mean they have to be ugly!! And I get it, Adrien’s supposed to have a model-off-duty look, but wth are those shoes? Plus, why does he never change for his photo shoots? He’s a MODEL! I get it, you can’t even spend money to change the transformation animation to whatever the characters are actually wearing but wtf??? If you were gonna have any kid’s show where we get to see a lot of different clothes/outfits, this would be the show!! Two of the main characters are fashion designers, one of the minor antagonists is the daughter of a fashion magazine owner and your other main character is a model. IN PARIS!! A city known for its fashion and “romance”. And ur telling me you can’t add a few more outfits to the show??? That’s called lazy writing/animation.

Ugh, sorry abt that rant, but the character designs genuinely piss me off. It’s bullshit.

I digress.

I’ll be releasing the main 4 kids’ redesigns probably on the 15th!!

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous fanart #marinette dupain cheng #luka couffaine #juleka couffaine #kagami tsurugi #ivan bruel #kwami swap #ladybugout AU #fanart #lbo Art

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wintercoatkiszka · 7 months

Text

Waking Up Too Early

The soothing sound of rain is what woke you from a comfortable sleep and it’s what almost put you back to sleep. Inhaling the clean air deeply, you roll over to snuggle closer to your partner Jake, but you find his eyes watching you carefully. “Well look who finally decided to wake up,” He comments softly, reaching up to run his hand through your hair.

“You weren’t going to tell me that my favorite weather is going on right now? What if I had missed it?” You ask sleepily, faking a hurt expression and pressing a hand to your chest.

“Well, as a wise man once told me ‘We could close the curtains and pretend that there’s no world outside’” Jake counters, pulling you against his warm body.

“How dare you use Jack Johnson against me. Come on, let’s go enjoy this weather.” You pull yourself out of Jake’s protesting arms and the cozy bed, shivering as your feet hit the floor. You quickly stretch out your back, and pull on an oversized hoodie before running down the stairs like a kid on Christmas morning to see how hard it is actually raining outside.

The rain has always been one of your favorite types of weather because of how rarely it happened when you were growing up. Your mom always made a huge deal over any amount of rain, but especially days like this where no sun peeks through the thick dark clouds and the rumble of thunder in the distance reminds people that it’s okay to spend a day at home in their comfy clothes. You would slip on your bright yellow rain boots and your mom would slip on her black and white polka dotted ones and you’d go splash in the biggest puddles you could find, letting yourselves get soaked for hours until your stomachs would remind you that it was time for lunch. Your mom would cook up something warm, usually soup, while you’d change into your fluffiest pajamas in the laundry room, leaving your wet clothes to dry over the clothes line that only really got used for that one purpose. After lunch, it was an afternoon of movies or books and, before you knew it, your dad was home with some sort of treat to commemorate the occasion.

“Jake! Don’t you want to come splash in puddles with me?” You call up the stairs, rooting through your overstuffed coat closet to find the pair of rain boots that your mom got you when you moved out for college. You finally find them and pull them out with a huge grin on your face to find Jake standing just on the other side of the door, shaking his head down at you.

“Anything for you my love,” He says with a sigh, pulling on his Birks and opening the front door. You run out to find yourself in a proper rainstorm and, by the time you turn around to see if Jake was following you, your hair was already soaked and clinging to your face in strips. Letting out a loud laugh as you watch your partner trudge out from the cover of your front porch, you run towards the street where a nice stream of water is heading steadily towards the storm drain. With one last leap off the curb, you land squarely in the middle of the stream, sending a wave of water up your legs and on to the front of Jake’s pants, who had suddenly appeared behind you.

“See, isn’t this fun?” You ask, planting a kiss on his cheek. He wipes the look of shock off of his face and replaces it with a determination that you don’t often see, nodding slowly as he eyes the water surrounding you. He lands on a sizable puddle and then glances back at you before taking a huge jump and splashing your right side.

The next few hours are spent just like this, jumping from puddle to puddle, seeing who can get the bigger splash, muddier splash, who can find the coldest puddle and occasionally running out of the way when one or two cars drive past, changing the topography of puddles for your use. By the end of it all, both of you are shivering and the rain still looks like it is going strong. “How about I make us some brunch and you get warmed up little lady?” Jake suggests, pulling you in for a hug. “You’re shaking like one of those little dogs and I don’t particularly want hypothermia today.”

You take a quick shower to reestablish the feelings in your fingers and toes and then wrap up in the coziest lounge set you can find before relieving Jake from the stove and sending him to do the same. He’s got eggs and sausage in a pan, something sweet in the oven and there’s a bottle of champagne begging to be opened and used for mimosas on the counter and a short twenty minutes later, you’ve got a lovely brunch spread set up on the table as Jake descends, taking a deep breath of the lovely kitchen smells.

“I’m an amazing cook, aren’t I?” He asks boastfully, puffing his chest up slightly as you just sit and laugh.

“I don’t know. Sammy probably still has you beat. And Josh does make a mean sourdough loaf. Oh, don’t even get me started on your mom’s cooking. An-”

“Ok, ok I get it. The Kiszka’s are amazing cooks. But come on, this is pretty great, huh?” He takes a seat next you you and plucks a strawberry out of the bowl you’d placed near where you were sitting and pops it into his mouth.

“You’re pretty great,” You respond, pulling a plate in front of you and loading it up with warm breakfast foods. ‘Now can we eat? I’m starving.”

Unfortunately, a big, beautiful, home cooked breakfast comes along with big, not so beautiful piles of dishes that have to get done before the pancake mix or syrup or egg remains dry on them and are impossible to get off. So, you and Jake crank your favorite classic rock playlist and get to work scrubbing and washing and drying and putting away. It’s a comfortable silence that the two of you work in and whenever your hand happens to brush his as you take a dish to dry or when he puts his hands on your hips to move behind you, the electric shocks that run through your body and get your heart pounding remind you of why you fell in love with him in the first place. He looks so perfect with everything he does, but in these little moments of domesticity, you can really see yourself spending the rest of your life with Jake, growing old and still standing next to each other to do the dishes. You can’t help the smile that warms your cheeks and Jake looks up with a puzzled look on his face. “What?” He asks, your infectious smile growing on his face as well.

“I just love you. That’s all,” You say, putting the last dish in the cupboard and closing the distance between you and Jake to give him a hug. He wraps his arms around you and rests his cheek on the top of your head, both of you with closed eyes, relishing in the warmth and safety of the moment. You pull away slowly and he runs his fingers up and down your back and then takes your hands in his, rubbing circles on the back of your palms. “I love you too.”

Shortly thereafter, you’ve wrapped up in a blanket on your couch with a book in your hands and a steaming cup of tea on the side table behind your head. Jake’s run off for the moment and you’ve become fully immersed in the plot of the latest cheesy thriller you found at a local bookstore. You figured out who the killer was as soon as the main detective described him as new to town but popular with the locals and you’re just waiting to figure out if they'll fall in love before she arrests him. A shadow suddenly comes over the page you’re on and you look up from your cocoon to find Jake standing in front of the couch, looking at the cushion that your legs are resting on.

“Can I help you?” You ask innocently, blinking up at him as a little half smile, your favorite, appears on his face.

“There seems to be something in my spot and I thought it would be kind to ask if you’d move it before I’m forced to squeeze in anyways,” He says gesturing with his guitar. He doesn’t really give you time to respond before lifting your feet anyways, sitting down and replacing them in one fluid movement.

“Sure Jake, go ahead,” You respond as he laughs, shifting around until you’re both comfortable, legs overlapping under the blanket and a calm quiet retakes the house. Jake begins strumming on his guitar, chords that you’ve heard him working on all week, trying to get them in the right order. They’re beautiful and definitely belong together, but he has yet to find how, and he begins humming under his breath to figure it out. He knits his brows together as he misses the chord the first time and then tries again and you watch the gears in his mind whirring; you can tell that he knows he’s close.

Then he finds it. You’re on the second to last page of the chapter and had decided that you would distract Jake by offering a movie or asking to order take out if he didn’t work out the chords by the time you finished reading because he would work for days if you didn’t remind him to take a break, but the melody sings through your ears before you can even finish your sentence. “Jake, that’s it!” You exclaim, a look of pride on your face. He smiles up at you and nods.

“You think so?” He asks, strumming it again and paying close attention to how the notes blend together. “Yeah, I think you’re right, love.” He looks out the window and lets out a soft laugh. “And I think the rain finally stopped.” In the time that you spent tangled together on the couch, not only had the rain stopped, but the sun had set and a cool evening set it. “How about we get some dinner? I’m feeling Thai.”

“That sounds incredible,” You reply, your stomach growling loudly. “But only if you can do it right from this couch. While I put on a cheesy rom-com." You readjust into his arms and he holds you tight while you turn on a favorite of you both. Not a bad way to spend a rainy day.

#gvf fanfiction #flufftober 2023 #jake kiszka #greta van fleet #jake kiszka x reader #rainy day #puddles and cuddles oh my!

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hirsheyskisses · 7 months

Text

My Fiery Roommate

Prologue.

EUSTASS KID x READER

A/N: I cut this off a bit short because it'll make starting the next chapter a bit easier.. but prologues are allowed to be weirdly cut so 😭

"301, 301.. ah, here."

You set your suit cases down and fumbled with your keys to find the key, unlocking the door and moving into the building.

Your gaze was met with empty, beyond a couch, TV, and a small kitchen with a microwave, sink, oven, and fridge. It was a decently high end apartment. According to the floor plan, the bathroom would be down the hall to the left, the larger room across from it, and the smallest bedroom at the end. You had chosen that one because of the better view- according to the lady who toured you, your roommate had chosen the bigger one, anyways. That was fine.

Lugging your bags to the small room, it was also, for the most part, empty. There was a box that held a desk your brother had bought you, and a bed in the corner. Pushing your cases by the bed, you flopped down, sighing. "So damn hot in the South.." you groaned, running a hand through your hair.

Having come from the North, you had decided that as you turned 21, you'd start a new life. There was so much.. you needed to leave behind. So you did. You'd saved up, you'd worked your ass off, and came to the South, a grand place where many successful people began. They had the best education, best work opportunities .. even if rumors had it that the people were a bit brash. Honestly though, the few people you'd had brief interactions with were absolute sweethearts, so you'd decided that rumor was a bunch of crap.

You laid there for a bit before beginning to unpack the first suitcase: clothes. You'd brought pants, shirts, and jackets (which you were beginning to think you didn't need) and the under-clothing essentials. Each piece got placed on a hook and hung on the clothing rack, save for again, the under garments, which got re-folded and placed back into the suitcase for privacy.

"Who the hell left the damn door unlocked?! Fuckin asking to get broken into."

The sound of loud footsteps broke you out of your unpacking trance, and you froze. That was a man's voice. Slowly you reached for the closest solid thing you could find, which happened to be a boot, and slowly walked over to your door.

"Consider it maybe that the other resident is here, Kid?" An exasperated, also masculine voice spoke up, and you slowly creaked open your door.

"It's a God damn safety hazard, I swear when I get my hands on him-"

You held the boot behind you as you stepped out of your room, leaving the door open in case you had to run back in. "Excuse me?" Your voice cracked, just a bit, upon realizing just how huge both men were. Both easily cleared 6' and were built like absolute tanks, and now had their full attention on you.

It seems you all were in shock, until the blonde spoke up, voice a mixture of light and gruff, "sorry. Who are you?" Bangs covered his eyes and he wore a black mask that covered the rest of his face, a polka-dot shirt and jeans being what he wore. "Im.. one of the residents. I have the papers to prove it. ...you are?"

"Fuck you mean, one of the residents?! Thought my roommate was supposed to have balls," the red haired man's voice was almost condescending. His hair held up by a red bandanna, he wore a black tank that hugged his large torso, jeans, with heavy duty looking boots. "Well I'm sorry, Jaggy, that I don't meet your expectations!" "The FUCK you call me?!"

That was a mistake. The man moved closer, clenching his fists, until he was almost right in front of you. In a moment of panic, you threw the boot you'd been holding right at his face, turned, and darted right back into your room, slamming rhe door shut and locking it.

"..YOU LITTLE SHIT!" that moment of silence was gone, with the man storming down the hall and banging his fist on your door. "Kid that's enough- you had that coming-"

You backed yourself against the bed, hand over your heart, holy shit, I just did that. HES GONNA KILL ME-

The pounding continued for a minute before you heard him storming off, slamming the door to what you assumed to be his room. A soft tap on your door caught your attention and, warily, you opened it just a crack. You were met by the blonde, who offered you your boot. Accepting it, you questiond,

"...is he gonna kill me-" your voice was barely a whisper, and the man hesitated before shaking his head. "He doesn't actually hit women unless they genuinely deserve it. Sorry about him. I'm Killer."

"...well that's not menacing at all. (Name.) I'm (Name)." You opened it a bit more to shake his hand, noting just how firm his grip was. Killer huffed, shaking his head as he pulled his hand away, "He's Eustass Kid, your actual roommate."

You hesitated for a moment before questioning, "I've heard students talking about you guys the other day on Campus."

"...we've got a bit of a reputation."

"... should I be worried?"

"No."

"KILLER GET YOUR ASS IN HERE! I can hear ya talking to that damn pipsqueak!" Killer tensed as Kid's voice, shrugging at you, "see ya around." Before retreating to Kids room to assist the man in unpacking.

You shut the door again, feeling relief that atleast Killer seemed decent. A deep breath, it's gonna be a long year...

You'd finished packing a few hours prior, and had been laying on your bed listening to music, watching as the sky grew darker and darker until you decided it was time to call it a night. Moving to the bathroom, you began to run hot water in the sink as you prepared your tooth brush, when the door opening had you shrinking.

"..move over." Was all the man said, holding what you recognized as the bathroom essentials- toothbrush, brush, ..was that lipstick? Actually getting a good look at him, you realized he wore red lipstick with dark eyeliner.

"Jeez. For all you know I coulda been taking a piss." You grumbled, moving over none the less, moving to brush your teeth. "You'd better fuckin lock the door when you do, then. Clearly you need a lesson in that." Kid growled, setting his stuff down and also readying his own toothbrush for use..

"Yeah yeah.. I left the front door unlocked so the next person wouldn't struggle so much getting their bags in." Your responded, voice a bit muffled by the teeth brusher, and he scoffed. "Bullshit. You forgot, Pipsqueak."

"Whatever makes you feel better, Jaggy." For a moment you both went about your business, you finishing up the teeth brushing and beginning to wash your face with the hot water.

"Hey. Your name." "What?" You glanced at Kid, who was currently glaring at you, "you heard me. Give me your name." He growled, and you, with a dripping wet face, responded, "(Name). It's (Name)."

"Eustass Kid." "I know, Killer told me." He scoffed, spitting into the sink as you dried your face, him moving to wash his makeup off. "Behind you," you stated, slipping behind him to reach the door, and Kid inched forward a bit, seeing as it was a cramped bathroom. He was clearly tired, so you were gonna assume that's why he was being nice.

"..in the living room, 8. Any class?" "No?" You replied, confuses, "good. Because if your ass ain't in the living room by then, I'm dragging your ass out of bed."

You tensed, arms crossing. "Mind fuckin' explainin'? Cuz I don't enjoy the idea of hanging out with you." Kid grabbed a towel and began to dry his now make-up less face, pulling down his headband so it rest around his neck. His hair looked better when it was down, you decided. "So we can go over the damn roommate rules. Killer told me it was a fuckin thing or something. It makes sense." That caught you by surprise, nodding your head in agreement. "Rule 1, dont drag me out of bed or ill twist your balls."

Kid froze, and you could almost see the gears turning in his head, and then, "..think I'd rather ya kick em."

"You don't get that blessing, I'm not an angel in the morning. Now if you'll excuse me, Jaggy, I need to get my beauty sleep."

As you turned you glanced back at him, "gnight." He was still scowling, teeth clenched, "tch." Kid clicked his tongue and moved to exit the bathroom, and you both made your way to your rooms for sleep.

#eustass kid x reader #eustass kid #eustasscaptainkid #eustass x reader #one piece x reader #one piece

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joonlaksme · 6 months

Text

October 25th

Kim Seokjin x Mirrors

Contains: toy used, unprotected sex, semi-public, afab reader

Word Count: 2.1k+

Kinktober Masterlist

“Kim Seokjin. This must be one of the worst ideas you’ve ever had.” You can’t lie, you are a bit angry. Seokjin proposed this “genius” idea—his words not yours—for something the both of you can do at the upcoming fair. You can’t possibly think of something fun to do at this time of day at a glorified amusement park. Get in trouble for trespassing, maybe?

Why were you angry? Well for one, it’s the middle of November and you’re freezing your ass off. You hadn’t expected his genius idea to involve going outdoors. You thought with the way he was looking at you, he wanted to eat you out or something. Not tread ten minutes in the cold and hop a fence. Two, he’s leading you into the fair at 5 in the morning, a whole 5 hours before it opens up. He’s obviously not here to get dibs on some rides. The only reason why you’re not freaking out about getting caught for complete trespassing is because your boyfriend had taken a few days off at his job to work at the fair instead. He wanted to see what it was like, being surrounded by crying children, “lost items”, and cocky couples. His words, not yours.

You told him it was a terrible idea but gave in at the hint of free fair food. Yum, free fried food that you could possibly get food poisoning from. You were in.

The smell of something fried in dough was in the air from the day before. Even as you looked around, you caught glimpses of janitors cleaning up the discarded trash. They didn’t seem to care about the two of you. You met eyes with one of them but they just gave you a brief smile and continued sweeping cracked concrete.

Jin is holding your arm by your wrist, eyes lit up like a child showing their mother their favorite ride. He’s looking straight at the lights that just turned on all around a ferris wheel. It was a little cute but you refused to back down because of a couple of cute things your boyfriend did without even knowing he did them. Sure, he was gorgeous but that wouldn’t suddenly revive you and give you the energy you’ve been craving to catch up on. Recent work days were 9 to 7 and the rest of the day was filled with cooking and sleeping. You barely had time to binge watch your favorite shows. Even if you tried, you’d be asleep by episode 2. Sometimes you’d wake up in the arms of your boyfriend, lifting you up from the couch and carrying you to bed. He would lay you down gently, pulling the blanket over you right before getting in beside you and pulling your head against his chest. It was comfy and warm and days like those are when you sleep your best.

“You flatter me. You think my other ideas are good?” He grins, looking back at you.

That isn’t what you meant and he knew it but you’ve learned that he gets a kick out of teasing you. You’ve decided to just let it be when he says things like that. He usually isn’t looking for an answer, just the roll of your eyes satisfies him.

“Behold!” He shouted and you slapped his arm at his loud voice while it echoed in the empty area. He pouted, rubbing the spot you barely hit. “I wanted to show you this place. Isn’t it cool?”

You sighed and looked up, not surprised in the slightest for what Jin was showing you. Not a glimpse of excitement came to you and you sluggish read the words. In squiggly words that were decorated with polka dots and stripes were the words: Mazy’s Mirror Maze. Very creative. You looked at him and showed him an expression to describe what you were feeling. Absolutely underwhelmed.

“Yeah? It’s a mirror maze. What about it.” You mumbled.

Jin looked disappointed, wrapping his arm around your hip. You’re grateful for the warmth he adds on you, sinking into your skin. “Babe…you have no idea how fun this could be. A mirror maze. To ourselves?”

You’re not catching on so you pinch his sweater and tug at it, “Let’s just go back home. I’m tired and I have work at 12.”

Seokjin takes your hand into his. He lifts it to his face, pressing his lips on the knuckle. His eyes glaze over, begging you to let him stay longer. It seems he has hyped up his surprise too much in your opinion but you’re weak to those eyes. Damn those puppy eyes.

“Fine. Show me how fun this could be.” You wave at him with the back of your hand.

Then he’s pulling you into the maze. It’s full of normal mirrors at first but it seems like Jin knows where he’s going. Things look confusing and you’re looking at multiple copies of you and him. A couple lefts and rights and the lighting makes it hard to see, progressively getting darker the further you get in the maze. He doesn’t seem worried. You wince when there’s a sudden blast of light. You’ve entered this hallway, full of some mirrors that are normal and others that make you look odd. In some, you’re short and in others you’re lanky. You’re wavy in one and swirled in others. You’ve always wondered how these worked. All of the mirrors are lined with silver paint that seems to be chipping on the very edges.

“Okay. Now that we’ve gone through the maze, let’s go.” And you pull his arm to go to the door at the end of the hall labeled ‘EXIT’.

“Buh-We are not done here.”

And you’re suddenly in his arms. He’s pressed you against one of the straight normal mirrors. He’s purposefully pulled your body close to his so you can feel…

“How are you hard right now?” You ask incredulously.

He pecks your lips, “Have been for a while. You know why.”

And then your memory is jogged with the events earlier today. In a sleepy haze at twelve at night, he pulled you in and asked you if he should do something a little spicy. You mumbled under your breath, asking what he meant, and caught in your sight on something sparkly and the size of your hand. Your vision is blurred from the fight you have with your circadian rhythm. You tell him sure, why not, and drift off into slumber soon after. You swear you can hear his dragged out sighs as he shuffles around in bed. It annoys you but then he’s pressed against you and you can finally get some shut eye.

With you pressed on the mirror, Jin pulls his pants and underwear down in one go, not concerned for possible witnesses in the slightest. You gasp at what you see reflected in the mirror across the hall. There’s a pretty little plug right between Seokjin’s ass cheeks.

“Oh. Oh wow.” You add in, suddenly interested.

Nothing stops you from moving your arms around his body and grabbing handfuls of his ass. His eyes open wide, wanting more of your rough touch. He moves forward and tucks himself in your neck, a soft sigh peeking out of his lips. It’s when you press down on the plug that he’s twitching against your thigh and lets out this lovely moan.

“Can I- c-can we-“

You’ve noticed that Jin struggles to ask to have sex when he’s flustered. You find it cute and you’re overwhelmed with the desire to make him cum. Some part of you does want to wait to see if he can get the words out.

“Can you fuck me?” He finally gets out, body pushed against yours.

He’s needy, grinding against your thigh and gripping your hips hard. When you take a hold of his chin and pull him out from the corner of your neck, he’s faking this pout. His lips are down but it’s in a way that makes it look like he’s mocking you. You really want to wipe that look off his face.

You pull your pants and underwear down. You kick them away and stand with your hands on your hips. “You think you can hold me up?”

“I know I can.” His mood switches like a light. At one moment he’s a begging mess but the other, his head is way too big.

You pull your arms around his neck and jump up to wrap your legs around his hips. Your body is firmly pressed against the mirror when he leans forward and your ass feels cold on it. The feeling shocks you for a moment but you stop yourself from moving too much. One wrong move and you might topple over along with Seokjin.

He’s leaned against your chest, trying to look down and aim for where he wants to sink in you. You can’t help but laugh a bit when you notice him struggle. He’s frustrated, nose flared and face burning hot. Your laughter does nothing but mock him. It doesn’t help when you add:

“Is this the time you realize the hole is a little lower? It’s not that difficult, Jinnie.”

He whines, “It’s difficult because you’re too wet.”

Your legs cross behind his back, “Look at me, baby.” And he follows. You notice his eyes are watery and his pout is much more genuine this time. Good. You peck his lips and take hold of his cock, lips closed with a moan. You line it up for yourself, “Now, try.”

He pushes himself inside of you, not being able to help himself from letting out this most delectable moan. You groan with him at the sudden entrance. You swear he acts like he’d die without your pussy; It’s warm, tight, and so wet that he’s scared he might slip out. His thrusts are shallow and although he’s hitting the right spot, it’s just not doing it for you just yet. You notice by the way he’s heavily breathing that he’s turned on more than usual.

“Can I finger you when we get back home.” You whisper in his ear.

He reaches as deep as he can get before he’s pulling out from your neck, looking at you with his jaw dropped. “Can you not say stuff like that when I’m inside of you? Fuck…”

You moved one arm under his so it’s around his hip, the other arm still wrapped around his back to keep you stable. “Why? Were you about to cum? Does that mean you’ll say yes?”

He groans as he continues his shallow thrusts. Then you’re moving your hand down to his ass, pressed down on the butt plug. He stiffens and presses his forehead to yours. It’s sweaty but you don’t pull away. When he sinks all the way into you, he reaches deep and is caressing your sensitive walls. You’re clenching with purpose because although you know he won’t last long enough to make you cum, you still want him to feel good. You want his mind to be clear with nothing but pleasure.

“Shit-“ He’s twitching inside you, right on the edge. When you pushed down the butt plug constantly, it hit his prostate with such light pressure that it was constantly teasing him. When you do it again with that mischief filled grin, it’s over. He’s been turned on for 5 hours and it’s a surprise he didn’t cum as soon as he entered you (which happens sometimes and those are your favorite days. You end up coaxing another orgasm out of him when he’s much more sensitive). He couldn’t even fall asleep because he was so distracted by his boner. He was pressed against your plush ass as you slept tonight but it granted no relief because you slept like a rock, barely even moving.

He’s filling you up with the next shallow thrusts, eyesight full of static when he closes them. His consistent moans as he cums make you feel deeply satisfied. You kiss his cheek and rub his back while he comes down from his high, shaking in your arms.

“And what do you say?” You say through the silence once your clothes are back on. You feel cum already being caught by your underwear. Gross.

“You knew I wanted to make you—fuck you.” He pouts.

You should be shocked by his language. But frankly, you’re used to vulgarity and if anything, you should be the frustrated one. He pulled you out of your sleep to fuck in a mirror maze. Instead you mutter in a way that makes him barely hear: “Oh I will.”

When his brain clicks to what you mean, he flushes and it’s not just because of the waft of cold that hits the both of you once you leave through the exit.

All likes, reblogs, and comment feedback are appreciated for stories like this. Friendly reminder that reblogs spread more than likes!

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#bts fanfic #kinktober #bts smut #kinktober 2023 #sub!bts #bts kinktober #sub!seokjin #afab reader

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eddie-sweetheart · 2 years

Text

Spare me! - Part 2

You and Eddie have a crush on each other, but it takes Murray Bauman to make it embarrassingly clear.

✨ Part 1 ✨

Tropes: Eddie Munson x Henderson female reader, fluff, Murray exposing your feelings, forced proximity, a very soft Eddie.

Warnings: Mention and/or depiction of fighting and wounds, kissing, teeny-tiny diversion from the show’s timeline (this one’s more about the concept than the overall S4 plot😉).

Word count: 3.8k

Author’s notes: Here's part 2, kindly (and unexpectedly!) requested by an anon 🤍 I hope it makes as much sense as part 1 did - there were many types of dynamics that I could go for, but I let the inspiration flow and did my best! Hope you like it!

🌹 Masterlist 🌹

When you open up your eyes again, it feels like you haven’t slept for more than ten minutes.

As your eyelids flicker open and you try to make sense of the shapes and shadows in the still pitch-dark guest room at Murray’s place, you catch a glimpse of a digital clock on a shelf across from the bed, whose green blinking leds reveal to you that it’s 7 am. Which means that those ten minutes of sleep have actually been 3 hours - not that it makes any relevant difference, anyways: you still feel like a bundle of exhaustion.

You attempt to move and stir your tired limbs under the blanket, but you soon realize two things. First, that the thrill of being on the run won’t let you rest any longer, so you give up on closing your eyes again as your mind starts coming out of its drowsy daze; second, that you actually cannot move.

Something is keeping you stuck, and at first you’re still too sleepy to make sense of what it is - however, as the sudden fluttering in your heart and the butterflies in your stomach are quick to remind you, it doesn’t take much for you to find out that it’s Eddie.

The memories of last night’s confession and kiss flood your mind, as you realize that your bodies are entangled in the same embrace that saw you fall asleep - his long legs twisted around yours, one of his arms slung over your chest with his hand placed on your waist, his warm skin against yours under the thick cotton of the sweatshirt you’re wearing. You can feel his other arm under your neck and his fingers buried deep in your hair. His face, instead, is nuzzled against your temple, his deep breaths regularly fanning over your forehead, paired with the soft sound of his light snoring.

You lie like that for a while, staring at the ceiling and just basking in happiness at the thought that just a few hours ago one of your most secret wishes magically turned into reality. It feels surreal to be this ecstatic in such a tragic time - with the Upside Down seeping back into Hawkins, a new monster on the hunt for your friends and the whole town looking for Eddie with (not so) metaphorical pitchforks. But you allow yourself a few more minutes of motionless bliss, feeling Eddie’s presence as it ignites every inner part of you with his sleepy touch.

When the clock flashes to 7:30 am, you decide that it’s best to get up and start getting ready to leave. You have time, sure, but you’ll need to walk for a while and even if Eddie has recovered a bit he won’t be as fast as he was before his close encounter with Jason’s crew.

With a reluctant sigh, you attempt to move a leg. You manage to untangle it from Eddie’s, so you try to wiggle out of his grasp with caution, unwilling to wake him up as he’ll need all the rest he can get. However, as soon as you start moving away from him, a low “mhm” escapes his lips as his arms softly tighten around your body, causing you to smile in the dark.

You go for a second attempt, but it proves to be an impossible task: Eddie grunts a bit louder and moves his head to bury it against your neck, taking a deep breath in before muttering something with a raspy voice.

“What was that?” You whisper, stroking his tangled hair away from his only exposed cheek, your fingers brushing against the polka dot bandaid you placed on him last night.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Eddie repeats, his lips tickling your skin as he speaks while his hand moves up your side in the gentlest caress ever.

“I’m getting up, Eddie” you reply, wishing with all your heart that you could stay in that bed forever. “I’m going to make breakfast for us and Murray, get our stuff and get ready to leave. But you can rest a bit more”.

Eddie hums, bringing you even closer to him as his eyes finally flutter open - you can’t see them, but you know they are because you can feel his eyelashes grazing your cheek.

“I’ve just managed to score the most perfect elvish princess in the whole of Middle Earth and she’s already leaving me” he mumbles, his lips smirking against your skin as he plants a soft kiss on your jaw. “It does really take a little to go from Eddie the Banished to Eddie the Forsaken”.

You chuckle, softly bumping him with your arm - he matches your laugh, but he cannot hide the hiss of pain that escapes him as your elbow meets his side.

“Shit, I’m sorry Eddie” you blurt out, fully turning your body towards him to gently stroke the spot you’ve just hit.

“It’s okay, sweetheart” he replies, nudging his nose against yours. “You could kiss me better, though”.

“God, you’re shameless” you breathe out as you go ahead and, indeed, kiss him. As your lips crash against Eddie’s, you feel every inch of your body light up like Christmas lights. The darkness of the room heightens your senses and you can feel him everywhere - his fingers sneaking under your shirt, his hair tickling your face, his chest breathing heavily under the palms of your hands, his teeth slightly pulling at your lower lip and your breaths mixing up and slowly turning into low moans. It’s a totalizing whirlwind of emotions, and you would die to tear every piece of clothing off of your bodies to feel him even closer - but more pressing matters come back to your mind and you find yourself eventually pulling away from him.

Eddie sighs deeply as he unwillingly loosens his embrace to let you sit up. “I wish we could stay like this all day” he whispers, nervously running one hand up his face and through his hair. “The thought of going out there again makes me feel like shit”.

You reach out to him in the dim light of the room, your fingers intertwining with his as the first faint sun rays start filtering through the thick blinds in the window. “Let’s make a deal” you propose. “As soon as we sort this Vecna thing out, you’re taking me out on a date. We can have dinner, if you want - there’s a nice Italian restaurant downtown that I’ve been wanting to try for a while. Or, we can have a milkshake at the diner. Your choice”.

Eddie’s grin is so bright that it outshines the sunrise seeping into the room.

“But,” you continue, matching his smile with a gentle curve of your lips, “in order to go to this date, we need you to be safe and alive. And with your name cleared, possibly”.

“Wouldn’t want the whole Hawkins police department to swarm Enzo’s while I’m pouring you some red wine and feeding you a breadstick, right?” Eddie jokes, the scenario he’s just described causing butterflies to make another appearance in your stomach.

“Yeah” you reply, leaning down to peck the tip of his nose before getting off the bed, “I might get offended if you leave me mid-date. Not very gentleman-like, to be honest”.

Eddie clutches his chest theatrically. “Y/n” he exclaims under his breath, “I would never”.

You manage to repress your laugh as you head towards the door. “I’ll take you up on that, then” you say, pointing a finger at him, “and don’t forget the flowers”.

As you place your hand on the doorknob, however, a feeling of discomfort suddenly hits you, making the playful confidence that you so naturally developed overnight with Eddie waver at the thought of what the consequences of this change in your relationship could bring.

It’s not that you are ashamed of being with Eddie - on the contrary, it feels otherworldly that he actually returns your feelings, and you can’t be happier at the thought of eventually letting your friends know about… whatever this is, or whatever this can turn into. But for a split second, you wonder if these feelings between the two of you could turn into a double-edged sword, hanging over your necks as long as Eddie’s a wanted man.

And just like that, it clicks. You realize that you’ve lived these past few hours into what is nothing but a frail bubble of happiness and renewed hope, hidden under the guise of Murray’s guest room, and that right outside that door and into the real world everything is going to be exactly as it was before you went to sleep. Moreover, you now fear that if anyone else found out about your feelings, they could use them as a weapon, or use you as bait, to hurt Eddie. And you really can’t and don’t want to let it happen.

“Uhm, Eddie?” You whisper, suddenly coming out of your train of thoughts.

“Yes, sweetheart?” He asks, making the mattress creak as he moves to get up as well, a hint of worry in his voice as he catches the change in your tone.

“Maybe you should wait a bit before coming in there” you slowly explain, “like, count to one hundred or something. I don’t know if Murray’s up already, but I think that it’s better if he doesn’t, uh… suspect anything, for now. And the others, as well. For our safety, of course” you’re quick to add with a reassuring smile as you notice his expression saddening a bit, “I think that we should be very careful about our next moves. Keep our cards close to ourselves, not giving anyone anything to hold over us until we’re sure you’re safe”.

Eddie nods slowly, scratching his temple. “Uh, yeah” he agrees, “It, uhm - it makes sense. So we should, like, pretend that everything is… the same, right?”

“I think so, yes” you reply, “until we figure out what’s next”.

Eddie sits back on the mattress with a sigh, making it creak under his weight. You wait for him to give you a sign that he’s ok and that he actually agrees, and the sign finally comes as one of his breathtaking smiles.

“I’ve never been that good at maths”, he finally states, his head tilted to the side as he speaks, “but I think I can count until one hundred”.

—♥︎—

“Good morning, y/n” Murray loudly exclaims as you make your way out of the guest room.

“Hello, Murray” you reply, a bit taken aback by his presence - and by the delicious smell invading your nostrils as you take a step into the living room. It’s coming from the kitchenette, where Murray is noisily fiddling around with a stained apron tied to his waist.

“Did you sleep well?” He very casually asks you, his eyes peering from behind his shoulders as he throws something (salt?) into a pan.

“Uhm, yes, thank you” you reply, taking a few steps towards him. “Can I help you with anything?”

“Yes. Will you grab the eggs in the fridge for me please?” He tells you, eyes back on the strips of bacon you’ve just found out he’s been cooking. “Thirty” he then adds, throwing a quick glance at his wristwatch.

You furrow your eyebrows at him as you open the fridge and grab a pack of eggs. “Sorry, what did you say?”

Murray blatantly ignores your question and, as you place the eggs on the counter beside him, he proceeds to nod to his right. “Could you also get the bread from the toaster as soon as it’s ready? You can find the plates in the cupboard - sixty”

You don’t know what is going on with him and why he’s saying random numbers out loud, but you decide to ignore him and proceed to set up the table.

“Ninety” Murray says, again, and the toaster dings revealing four slices of slightly overburnt bread. As you reach for them to put them on a plate, it finally makes sense - but it’s too late.

“One hundred!” Murray exclaims, turning around with a twist just as the guest room door opens to reveal an apparently still sleepy Eddie, back in his usual clothes.

You blush violently as Murray lays his victorious gaze on you. “Knew it” he exclaims with a grin, pointing a fork in your direction before proceeding to steal the plate with the toast from you and placing the sizzling bacon next to the bread.

“You could have chosen a less predictable number, though” he adds, turning back to the stove to crack the eggs in the pan.

Eddie looks at you inquisitively, not uttering a single word as you sigh heavily and head back into the guest room to get changed into your own clothes.

“Nothing better than a good serving of romantic denial in the morning” Murray chants as he scrambles the eggs. “Oh, you may want to take a look at that” he quickly adds, addressing Eddie and nodding towards an open copy of the Hawkins Post on the table.

Eddie sits down and starts flicking back through the pages until he reaches the front: the huge title, spelling “GOVERNMENT JOINS MURDERER SEARCH”, is very hard to miss, anyway.

“Fuck” Eddie hisses in desperation as he reads the article, “shit, shit, shit. I’m fucked” he exclaims, dropping the newspaper to bury his face into his hands.

“Don’t worry, kid” Murray chips in, turning to serve the eggs on the three plates on the table before plopping down on a chair himself, “if we made it out of a Russian secret laboratory alive after causing an explosion that tore down a whole shopping mall and a giant monster, you can make it through this” he says with a consoling tone, “at least you got the girl of your dreams, right?”

“He didn’t get anyone, Murray” you almost yell, emerging from the guest room with yesterday’s outfit back on - but, as soon as you notice the defeat in Eddie’s eyes, you worriedly rush to his side.

“Eddie, what’s wrong?” You ask him, placing a hand on the back of the chair where he’s sitting. He nods towards the newspaper and you grimace as soon as you read the title.

“We’ll fix this” you state, inadvertently moving your hand from the chair to his shoulder, squeezing it firmly. “We’ll contact doctor Owens, he’ll make this go away”.

“He was fired though, wasn’t he?” Murray interjects, his mouth full of eggs and bacon. You look at him with a death glare, eloquent enough to make him backtrack almost instantly. “But we’ll find a way, for sure” he quickly adds, stuffing a piece of toast in his mouth.

Eddie looks up at you, his brown puppy eyes half covered by his messy fringe. “You think you can do that?” He asks you, the lines in his face relaxing for a second.

“Yes, we can. He’ll know what to do” you reply, willing to give him even the tiniest sliver of hope, if that’s enough to keep him going. “But right now, you have to eat something. You’ll need all the strength you can get” you tell him, earning a tentative nod in response.

You sit at the table as well and start to nibble at the food - which is unexpectedly good. And it surprises you how it manages to bring you comfort, making you feel more energized and improving your mood already.

“Can you, uhm, pass me the orange juice?” Eddie asks you, nodding at the bottle to your right.

“Mh-mh” you mumble in response, avoiding his gaze as you hand the juice over to him across the table, Murray’s piercing gaze burning through you.

“Thanks, swee- uh, y/n” Eddie replies, his hand almost missing the bottle once he moves to grab it, as he, too, is avoiding looking in your general direction not to raise any suspicion. Of course, it doesn’t help that Murray’s eyes are studying your every movement, making the atmosphere so tense and embarrassing at the same time that you fear you might burst out into a laugh any second now.

Thankfully, the silence that follows makes it easier for you to stay serious. Now even Murray is back to focusing on his breakfast, so between one forkful and the other, you feel free to occasionally glimpse at Eddie - and you come to the conclusion that pretending that nothing between you two has happened is going to be way harder than you thought.

Just by glancing at him, you feel your neck and cheeks heating up. It doesn’t matter that he’s quite disheveled, with messy hair, dark circles around his eyes (one turning slightly yellow from the punch he received yesterday) and a crinkled Hellfire shirt. He looks unexpectedly and incredibly good, and not just because of the subtle beauty in his looks, which is always there - but also and especially because of how brave and resilient you know him to be.

You tell yourself that it’s not exactly the right time to think about this kind of things, but you can’t help your gaze from following the movements of his hands and fingers as they slightly drum the fork on the plate, and the way his nose scrunches up as a random thought travels through his mind. And just like that a thought (or better, a memory) travels through your mind, too - and suddenly you’re back in the guest room bed, with his hands all over you, and his mouth exploring yours-

“Dear god, y/n” Murray exclaims, tiny crumbles of bread flying as he slams a hand on the table, “Was it really that good?”

Realization dawns on you as you find out with horror that you’ve been staring into the void with a smile plastered on your lips, a piece of bacon hanging from your fork in mid-air.

You instantly look at Eddie, who is blushing slightly and has his eyes fixed on the last piece of toast on his plate. Hidden beneath the hair that’s falling around his face like a wavy curtain, his lips are curled in a small smirk.

“I, uh… I’ll start putting the dishes away, yeah?” You blurt out as you jump to your feet, purposefully looking at the clock above the fridge before grabbing your plate. “Then I think we should start moving”.

“As you wish” Murray agrees, “Just make sure to take your jaw as well - I think it’s fallen on the floor” he adds, snickering to himself as he follows your lead and gets up, heading towards the bathroom and locking himself in.

“Well, that’s a heeeell of a good start” Eddie observes, tilting his head to the side as he helps you pile the plates and collect the cutlery before placing everything in the sink. “Is he always like that?”

You sigh, already exhausted even if the day’s just started. “Yes, he is” you nod, leaning back on the counter, arms crossed on your chest. “But he’s just… Murray. So I guess that’s okay” you smile. He might be annoying sometimes, but Murray is someone you can always count on - so you’re definitely glad that he’s on your side, even with his unforgiving honesty.

Eddie takes a step towards you. He’s towering over you now, and he places a hand flat on your head, slightly ruffling your hair. “Soooo” he says, the lilt in his voice and the smirk on his lips making your heart skip a beat, “what were you thinking that made you smile like that?”.

“Don’t even try that, Munson. I’m not going to flatter you that easily” You reply as you swat his hand away, scoffing jokingly - but your fingers find themselves intertwined with Eddie’s, the metal of his rings hard against your skin.

Eddie lets out a small laugh. “Oh, sweetheart, if there’s one thing that you should know is that flattery wooorks with me” he says, pulling you closer. You get lost in his eyes for a second, then your gaze travels down to his lips…

The sound of the bathroom door unlocking makes you both jump away from each other.

“Alright, lady and gentleman. Time to go” Murray exclaims as he walks back into the living room, clapping his hands while his narrowed eyes scan your way too casual expressions. “The plane is not going to wait for me and I’m not going to miss my flight because of you two lovebirds. So, door’s that way - chop chop”.

“Murray” you sigh, “for the umpteenth time, we’re not-“

“Ah-ha!” Murray shushes you, putting his hands up with annoyance. “Don’t you dare, y/n. My poor old eyes have seen enough in twenty minutes to know that you’ve lovingly spent the night in each other’s arms, whispering sweet nothings and puckering your lips all the goddamn time. And as much as I find that way too cheesy, you know there’s nothing wrong with admitting that you’re so into each other you can’t even eat breakfast, right?” He blurts out. “I swear to god I don’t know what’s wrong with young people today. In my time, we preached free love and we had no problem saying we were sexually act-“

“OKAY” you interrupt him, not really wanting to know how that speech ends, “Okay, Murray, I got it. We got it” you say with a big fake smile, looking at Eddie for support. He, on his part, proceeds to hide his embarrassment with a cough and grabs his leather jacket and denim vest from the sofa, where they’ve been lying since last night.

“Aaaall ready to go” he then states, as calmly as if nothing weird has been said, before turning to Murray with his hand held out. “Thanks, man” he adds, “I owe you one”.

Murray shakes it with a sigh. “Mi casa es tu casa” he replies, “but now, please, leave”.

—♥︎—

The metal door of Murray’s warehouse closes behind you with a bang. In front of you, across from the empty street, the woods are waiting.

You take a deep breath, bracing yourself for what’s to come.

“Ready?” You ask Eddie, turning your head to look up at him.

“It’s not like I have any other options” he says with a small smile, the light morning breeze making his hair waver as they brush on his shoulders. “But yes” he adds, his hand intertwining with yours and squeezing it softly. “I’m ready”.

You take a few careful steps, cross the road with a quick jog and disappear into the woods, hand in hand.

—♥︎—

Hope you liked it :) Feedback is always welcome!

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#eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #stranger things 4 #stranger things x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fic #murray bauman

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idontknowreallywhy · 28 days

Text

Estera Ch 35 - Ten

What went before

It’s been a while! Ironic that in March of the OCs I have throughly neglected my dear OC but I shall try to make up for it! This one fought me (while I’ve written tens of thousands of words for further down the line 🙄) because I wanted one chapter to achieve too many different things and I rather lost confidence in myself to make it work or even to continue with it at all. (Every scrap of credit goes to @sofasurf for giving me a metaphorical shake and waving snippets of her excellent future chapters to bribe me).

The end result is… again… I have broken one event down into more than one chapter. Hoping there is the right balance of fluff and angst to suit those still reading (thank you xx)

Here we ponder whether one can be homesick for somewhere that is no longer your home, there is an addition to the gallery, Scott has a wobble and the giant floof introduces us to his favourite Thunderbird…

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Bez stood guard at the front door, clearly determined to give the earliest possible warning of their visitor’s approach. It had been five minutes since Estera had heard the unmistakeable sound of VTOL engines through the open window which told her he’d decided to leave the jet somewhere nearby, maybe at the fancy golf club where such things didn’t stand out as so unusual. That was 15 mins walk away on normal-human-length legs, so she could probably expect him fairly imminently.

She gave up on the article she was staring at in a futile attempt to stop herself thinking too much and dumped the tablet on the coffee table with a little more force than intended before getting up to pace around the room. Maybe moving would help? Bez glanced over before returning his serious gaze to the door handle.

The intensity of his expression was offset rather by the little blue polka dot bow tie she had attached to his collar to mark the occasion. It had been 5 years to the day since she collected a tiny ball of puppy floof from the breeder and finally made her apartment feel like a home. Because on that particular day it had been exactly 5 years since she’d seen the last place that felt that way.

And thus today, dziesięć. Ten.

Ten years since she’d opened the back door in the morning to stand barefoot in the grass. Ten years since she’d taken a deep, rejuvenating breath of the air rolling off the Tatra mountains.

Ten years since she’d sat on the back porch with a cup of coffee, stealing a few moments to listen to the excitable call of the woodlark, one of the few privileges the militia hadn’t managed to take from them. The yellow-painted structure had been plagued by woodworm even then… it was probably long gone now. In fact, she didn’t even know if the house was still there. That felt wrong. Even if she knew she could never go back to it… surely she should know? But who could she call to ask? Nobody was there anymore…

Ten years since she’d held a meaningful conversation in her native tongue. Bez didn’t count.

Ten years since she‘d started to feel the constant need to justify her presence by being useful, by being an asset to her adopted country. Ten years since she felt like she truly belonged anywhere.

Ten years since she’d hugged her parents and promised to live.

She sighed and walked over to their photo on the wall for the third time that morning and pressed her palm against it. Then rested her forehead on the back of her hand. It felt as though she was fighting through the fuzzy layer that time was beginning to paint over her mental image of them, trying to fix the happy memories somewhere safe. Somewhere accessible. The memories before that day. Before the war and all the horrors that had brought.

Ten years too since she’d found and lost a hero within minutes and gained an imaginary soulmate.

Ten years since she should have died. Maybe in some ways the old her had. Ten years since her life had changed forever anyway.

Her gaze shifted to the new photo, framed in blue, that she had recently added to her gallery. Yes, and in the last few months… everything had suddenly changed again. But this time in an indisputably good way. Because the imaginary hero had somehow shed the imaginary bit and become her friend. The two of them grinned manically out of the hasty selfie - hair dishevelled, flushed with adrenaline and drenched in seawater but vividly, irrepressibly alive.

She couldn’t help smiling back. He was hero to lots of people, but friend was infinitely better.

Bez, who had quietly padded over to sit close beside her whined quietly and rested his big head on her hip.

“Quite right, Niebieski, enough introspection.”

He huffed a non-committal response before an ear twitched and he flung himself towards the door, his claws skittering on the tiles, and resumed his supervision of the door handle.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Lift was out again, Scott noticed. He rolled his eyes and then took the stairs at a run… just because. He found himself counting them in groups of ten. Ten ten ten ten ten ten ten… and… hmph, two more. If she’d only lived on the 5th floor that would have been far more satisfying. He took a moment to calculate how much height each individual stair would need to have added to fix this… would that make the rise too steep? Maybe if they could reduce each by 20% and add four more to each flight?

Huh, he was clearly more on edge than he realised if he was compulsively doing math. He recalled frantically focusing on trying to disprove Goldbach’s Conjecture while refusing to visibly react to the agony of…

No. Stop it. He was here so that he didn’t need to lose himself in thinking about it. So that neither of them did.

He looked over at her door. He was technically a few minutes early, did that matter? He decided not and braced himself to withstand 60 kilos of furry, drooling enthusiasm. Bez, the big, fluffy, friendly dog who was most definitely not a half-starved killer. He was a different creature in every way and Scott was definitely getting better at forgetting the nightmare dogs. Much better actually.

It was all good. Even the bark he was about to hear was different - deep and booming and safe. Not snarling and howling. All good.

Scott raised a hand to knock but froze as an unexpected noise reached him… the scratching of claws on stone. They prowled relentlessly outside, waiting... Daring him to even try… He gasped out loud as his lower back slammed painfully into the bannister at the top of the stairs and he grabbed it tight, trying to ground himself. His vision blurred.

A voice drifted through the fog, the same sibilant quality of speech that haunted his nightmares and he was nearly overwhelmed by nausea before he heard a joyful laugh and knew… with a rush he knew… that it wasn’t there it was… here. It was her language, her’s and the dog’s, not… not theirs.

He gripped the bannister hard as the door opened and his friend looked up at him, the smile sliding off her face and her hand slipping from the dog’s collar as it surged towards him and… and skidded to a halt a metre away, ears raised, head tilted.

“Niebieski, Noga!

Scott? What’s wrong?”

The dog returned to heel immediately and sat down, looking up at him with that same questioning head tilt. Scott blinked the sweat from his stinging eyes, cursed himself for overreacting and was about to apologise when he realised Estera had gone… what? He shook his head in frustration and was about to call after her. Except she was already back and lugging a huge beanbag which she placed just to his left away from the top of the stairs. He rubbed his eyes with the back of a hand, it was passing he didn’t need to sit down. He was about to thank her for the thought but reassure her it was unnecessary when his knees decided for him and he sank into the thing, vaguely noticing the loud scrunching noise of the filling reshaping around him. He leant forward to rest his forearms on his bent knees… scrunch again. The noise drowned out the whistling and the barking and he wriggled a little to make it happen a third time. Then all was quiet.

“I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be daft, Scott.”

“It’s so stupid.”

“No it’s not.”

“I’m sorry…”

“Just breathe for a minute, Blue.”

He did that. Precisely 60 seconds passed. 13 breaths, a couple more than would be usual. His comm pulsed quietly and he triple-tapped it to answer the enquiry in the affirmative. His head was much clearer now. He tried to relax his shoulders and looked around. Bez was nowhere to be seen. Estera was crouched next to him though, humming quietly. She smiled reassuringly as he looked at her and made to stand.

“I’ll just drop him round to George and Edith’s then we can go inside.”

“No! Don’t. Please.”

“It’s really not a problem at all.”

“No, it wasn’t his fault. I… something just took me by surprise. It’s not a problem.” Scott took a shaky breath and sat up straight. “I don’t want it to be a problem. I want to say hello.”

She frowned at him.

“I really do. Please bring him back.” Scott put as much confidence into the request as he could muster with the result it sounded more like a command than a request.

“Do Mnie!” She called quietly. He knew that one - Come! He focussed on practising the pronunciation in his head.

Bez poked his head out of the front door, his mouth full of some huge green cuddly toy. As Scott repeated the command the dog walked slowly forwards and placed the toy in front of him before lying quietly down next to his mistress.

Scott reached out cautiously and patted Bez on the head and murmured his thanks for the gift of… err… whatever the giant green drool-soaked plushie monster Bez had deposited at his feet was meant to be. Some kind of chunky lizard? A turtle with a zip on its belly? The dog looked at the toy and then back at Scott. Waiting for something?

Ah. He needed to physically accept the gift. Ugh… but he could literally see dog-spit-bubbles gleaming on the fuzzy surface. Shudder. Come on Tracy, you’ve dealt with grosser things in Gordon’s bedroom…

Acting with the kind of caution he’d exercise towards potentially explosive toxic waste, Scott picked the item up with a thumb and forefinger, and dangled it as far from his body as possible to inspect. It spun slowly in the air to reveal a very familiar yellow, red and white pattern on the top side and his jaw dropped in delighted surprise.

The shape, he could now see, was almost recognisable but it had been significantly squashed and white stuffing was poking out from several holes. Other sections had evidently been firmly re-stitched together which only emphasised how the rest of the original seams were on the point of bursting. The tail was hanging on by mere threads. Bez sat up tall on his hind legs and looked immensely proud of himself.

“Oh Bez… whatever would Virgil say?”

Now the adrenaline was dissipating Scott felt the overwhelming urge to giggle.

He cleared his throat to repress it and then bit his lip, not wanting to offend the giant animal by laughing in his face. His body shook a little as he shuffled forward and reverently placed the mutilated toy back down in front of its owner but he kept his cool. Said owner eyed him and then promptly picked up the toy and put it more decisively on top of Scott’s shoes.

“Goodness you are highly honoured Scott, he won’t let me near Thunderbird Chew! I’ve had to sneak her away while he sleeps to carry out routine maintenance in the dead of night and… err, Scott? Are you ok?”

Scott knew he was a lost cause even as he crammed a hand into his mouth to suppress the laughter. Bez looked at him with evident concern but it was Estera’s smug expression tipped him over the edge and he threw his head back and cackled.

Thunderbird Chew! He absolutely had to tell Virgil…

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #scott tracy #tb estera #estera #thunderbirds oc #idontknowreallywhy fanfic

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cafedanslanuit · 2 years

Text

♡ — pairing: denji x reader

♡ — summary: An 80's-themed diner is where your boyfriend takes you the first time he decides to pay for your meal. As you balance your feet on the tall stool, you can't feel but feel giddy— Denji always finds new ways to make you fall even harder for him.

♡ — tags/warnings: traditionally feminine presenting reader + she/her pronouns (gets called 'girl' once), no devils mentioned, suggestive conversation (mentions of petting & sending nudes), LOTS of fluff, denji is an ass and a sweetheart at the same time, puppy love feels

♡ — a/n: this is my first csm fic!! i was heavily inspired by this post by my lovely friend @ofoceansandtombsanew <3 "he loves you, so he says it. he likes being with you, so he says it. he wants you, so he says it" i was so in love with that line i ended up writing this c:

♡ — masterlist

Universe must have my back Fell from the sky into my lap And I know you know that you're my soulmate and all that

“You look really pretty today."

It’s not the first time you’ve heard those words, especially from him. However, just like the very first time he said so, you feel heat rising to your cheeks as your lips curve into a sweet smile. You happily balance your feet, the stool too high for them to reach the floor, and wonder how you have never heard of this place before. It has a retro vibe present, from the jukebox sitting at the back of the diner to the polka-dot aprons on the waitresses.

This could be your new favourite, you think, and the idea of your boyfriend knowing you’d love this place as much as you do makes you happy, sure, but also reminds you he cares for you as much as you care for him. The idea of him walking around the city, spotting a new diner and his first idea to be about wanting to experience it with you makes your heart do a flip.

You love how he carries your presence within him.

“Thank you. You look good too,” you say, caressing his bicep with two fingers, feeling the texture of the navy blue button-up he was wearing. “All dolled up for me.”

“You noticed?” Denji grins, puffing his chest. “I stole this one from Aki. It never creases. Look,” he says, scooting closer to you on his chair. He grabs a handful of the shirt and squeezes it tightly. A couple of seconds later, he releases it, leaving no trace or wrinkle at all. “See?”

“My mom used to say that’s how you know it’s a good fabric.”

“Has to be. I stole it from Aki, after all.”

You chuckle, nodding your head. “You did say that, yeah.”

“Wanted to look good today. You always look so nice when we go out,” he says, not-so-subtly eyeing your cleavage before looking back into your eyes. “Always got people around us staring.”

At these words, you scrunch your nose with a small smile.

“You know I don’t care about that.”

“Mmm, but I do,” he hums. He leans in closer, a devilish smile on his face. “I like it when they do.” His confession comes in a whisper. “Makes me feel all giddy and shit. Like I won.”

Laughter bursts out of you loudly, your shoulders shaking as you do. When you look at him again, he has a proud smile on his face while his teeth slightly bite his bottom lip, his eyes focused on only you. The ice cream parlour slowly disappears around you as your chuckles come to an end. Now, there’s nothing else but your boyfriend and his inexplicable charm. His gentle eyes, his messy hair, his―

His lips. Chapped but oh so very soft and warm. They always feel like home and you can’t help but feel drawn to them every time he makes you this happy. A content sigh escapes your body and you realize how badly you want to kiss him.

So you do.

You grab both sides of his boyish face and kiss him. It’s soft, but the surprise is enough to make him gasp before he wraps his arms around your torso, holding you tightly against him. You press a second kiss on the corner of his mouth and then a loud, third one, on his cheek.

“Love you, baby,” you mutter, nudging your nose against his skin. You kiss him one more time before pulling away with a love-struck expression. Your arms now circle his neck, fingers idly playing with his hair, while he drums his own on your waist.

“I love you too. And not because you’re like― so fucking hot.”

You snort. “I’m not hot?”

His eyes widen, a glint of fear running past them. He puts his big hands on your cheeks, squishing them together and bringing you closer to his face. “I mean not only because of that!! You’re really hot, you’re like― like, the other day I was watching porn and I couldn’t get myself to finish so I just opened your Instagram.”

Deji’s cheeks grow red, only now realising the weight of his words. You take his hands into yours and slowly put them down, resting them on your lap along with yours. Your lips stretch into a mischievous smile, and you look so devilish he can’t help but swallow thick.

“What photo?” you ask.

“Huh?”

“What photo did you…” you roll your eyes playfully, your tongue grazing your upper teeth. “You know.”

“Oh,” he blinks. “Hm, let me remember.” He presses his palms on your thighs, slightly balancing himself as he accesses his memories. His eyes go around the store, and you can almost hear the gears turning inside his head. You know he’s going to talk about the beach ones. “Right― okay, okay, I got it. It’s the one I took, yeah. The one at the park, with the dress.”

“That’s not a sexy photo,” you point out, cocking your head to the side. “I’m just sitting on a bench.”

Denji shrugs. “It’s my favourite. You look pretty. Also, that was the first time you let me sneak a hand under your dress.”

“Ah, I remember now,” you reminisce with a grin. “Behind that tree, right?”

“We were interrupted by that fucking chihuahua.”

His grimace earns him another kiss, this time on the tip of his nose. You chuckle at the memory of how the tiny dog latched onto the bottom of his jeans and wouldn’t let go, no matter how much he shook his leg. When it finally left (taken away by a very embarrassed owner), you took notice of the hole in your boyfriend’s jeans.

The date ended with you trying your best to sew it back together at his apartment. Denji had only found red string, so you were very careful to make it look good against the faded denim. Once you were done, you added the tiniest of hearts at the end of the stitch, only for him to see. That’s all it mattered, anyway.

“Next time, just ask,” you say. You take one of his hands between yours and rest your chin over it, looking at him intently.

“Hm?” His thumb strokes your cheek, making you smile.

“I mean, if you asked, I could send you more… interesting photos. Of me.”

It takes a couple of seconds for him to understand what you’re implying. But when it does, he gets noticeably excited. He shifts on his seat, straightening his back, and he passes his free hand across his dishevelled hair. His lips open and close a few times before he speaks again.

“Really?”

Your grin gets even wider. “Yeah. Call it ‘boyfriend perks’,” you wink. “Might even add a polaroid for your wallet. Keep me with you even when you’re away and―”

It’s Denji’s turn to lean in and join your lips together. You hum into the kiss, letting go of his hand and allowing him to press your body against him. The force of the kiss makes your chair tilt, and you hold onto his shoulders as you feel yourself losing your balance. Thankfully, he notices it and quickly pulls away from the kiss to grab your seat, successfully steading you.

Once he deems you’re safe again, he leans back, taking a good look at you. A charming and crooked smile appears on his face and you can’t help but imitate him, warmth spreading inside your chest.

“You’re so cool,” he sighs, mostly to himself. “And so pretty. Prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

“Mmmm, all you’ve called me today is pretty,” you whine, playfully feigning offence. “That’s all I am to you?”

“I mean, I’m paying today,” he shrugs. “So, yeah, all you need to be right now is pretty. Just sit there and look pretty for me.”

You feel your cheeks reddening, but decide to egg him on.

“Is that what you do for me when it’s my treat?”

Denji snorts and rolls his eyes. “Of course. I make sure I take a shower every time I see you. I don’t do that for anyone else.”

“And I’m eternally thankful for that. In fact―”

“Are you guys ready to order?”

Both of you look up, only now noticing one of the waitresses had finally decided to approach your table.

“Yeah!” Denji grins, putting an arm around your shoulders. “I’ll have whatever my girl’s having.” His smile drops a second later, and he gets closer to you. “No, wait― what are you ordering? I wanna know if― Maybe―” he trips on his words, full-on doubt, while you watch him with an amused smile.

“Wanna take another look at the options?” you suggest. He meets your eyes and nods.

“Yes,” he pouts and you hand him the laminated menu. “Go on and order for yourself, though. Anything you want.”

“Thank you, baby.”

You take a couple more seconds to appreciate your boyfriend, his eyebrows furrowed while his eyes go from one choice to the other. The navy blue button-up makes him look a bit older but his messy hair gives away his inexperienced heart. Even with his wandering hands, there’s innocence in the way he loves you― in the way he lets himself be loved. He’s greedy and demanding and wanting, but so tender. Soft. Yearning.

You wonder how long will your heart keep fluttering for him as it does now. Sighing, you hope the answer is forever.

He is, after all, your new favourite too.

#csm x reader #denji x reader #chainsaw man x reader #csm fluff #denji fluff #chainsaw man fluff #csm imagine #chainsaw man

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madameaug · 4 months

Note

oooo can you do when Jeanie pranks jungkook by saying another man’s name? Love the fictions keep it up!

Sure! I'm going to keep the 'wrong name' basis but add my own twist :) Hope it still meets your requests.

*just for this imagine Jungkook has continued down his path as a singer/member of BTS. Not a boxer but everything else remains the same

Pairing: Jungkook x Jenentte

"Guess what I learned about your daddy?" Jennette asked to Peanut as she swung her legs to the right. She wiped her daughter's hind legs with a moist wipe, removing all of the urine.

"Appa?"

"Yes! Guess what I learned about him." Jennette tossed the wipe into the trashcan, sliding up the fresh diaper up Peanut's legs. She babbled a response squirming slightly from the cold air. Tilting her up, her polka-dot leggings rose with no issue.

"His English name is Justin. Isn't that a funny name?" Wiggling her nose against Peanut's, causing her to laugh. Her two baby teeth peeked out of her gums. As quickly as Peanut was growing up, she was starting to resemble a lot like her mother. Those first few months of baldness were over and she had a decent amount of hair. If Jennette used a small rubber band, she could do pigtails.

"Why would he want to name himself Justin. Your appa is so silly." She carried Peanut in her arms and walked out of the woman's bathroom. "Let's prank him, okay?"

Not really sure what her mother was stating, Peanut clapped.

"Appa. Appa."

They returned to the table of three where Jungkook was sitting. Peanut slid perfectly into the restaurant's booster. It had been a while since the family of three had been out in public together. With Jungkook's commitments and Jennette's new managerial role their time together was limited.

But with the members pursuing solo endeavors now, it was the most free time Jungkook has had in a really long time. He was spending every moment possible with his family.

"Peanut cheese!" Jungkook pulled out his phone, taking pictures. Ever since he became a father, he's found no reason to take a picture of Peanut. Her first time at a restaurant, he took a picture. First time touching the grass, he took a picture. First time using the potty, you guessed it. He took a picture.

Like a subject of classical conditioning, Peanut started cheesing. Her cheeks were open, her eyes closed, and drool slipped down her mouth. Jennette jokes that if Peanut were to model, she wouldn't be camera shy.

"Justin, can you pass me that napkin?"

Watching the clear liquid string down onto Peanut's shirt, Jungkook moved with haste. Not even registering the name Jennette just called him.

"What did you say?

Before Jennette could respond, the waiter brought the food out.

The steam coming from his plate enticed him. Jennette was treating him to breakfast at a black-owned restaurant. He decided to be spontaneous and try shrimp and grits. Looking at his dish, he could tell his shrimp was well seasoned. The grits were thick and cheesy.

Taking a spoonful, he had to bite his tongue from releasing a satisfied moan. The grits were hotter than he anticipated, but they were too good for him to spit out. So he tried to cool it off with his mouth.

Nodding his head he quoted the saying of food reviewer Keith Lee.

"For sho, you right on." He fed himself another spoonful. "I don't know why you kept me from this place for so long. It's so good."

Jennette smiled, seeing Jungkook enjoy his food.

"Well this can become our little spot."

"Absolutely."

"Justin." Peanut grabbed onto Jungkook's shoulder. She wanted to get his attention and try some of his bowl's food.

"Who's Justin, baby?"

"You're Justin, Justin."

"What?" Jungkook was addled. Slowly scooping up a Peanut appropriate amount of grits. Who the fuck was Justin? This man who apparently has been around his girl and baby. Jungkook looked to Jennette for a clue, but her face was neutral.

"Tell appa who Justin is baby."

"Pleaseeee." She leaned her body, trying to get closer to the spoon of grits in Jungkook's hand.

Not denying his baby girl the grits any longer, he fed her. Watching the good food hit her belly. She smiled, then opened her mouth again.

"Justin look at this funny meme." Jennette laughed while showing her phone. It was a funny new parent post of Instagram that Jennette had been following since she learned she was pregnant.

Taking her phone, Jungkook tucked her phone under his thigh. "Who the hell is Justin? Cause it's not me, and you got my Peanut repeating after you."

"Just a guy I know."

"Who is he." Jungkook's tone was becoming more assertive. He was tired of repeating of himself. And the longer he was going without knowing 'Justin's identity the more he feared ruining this nice family breakfast.

"Jennette, please, my patience is thinning out."

Taking him at his word, Jennette answered his question.

"I found an old video of you saying that you wanted to go by Justin. I shared that with Peanut in the bathroom. It was just a prank, there's no Justin."

Jungkook's face immediately softened. He playfully rolled his eyes. Knowing exactly what interview you were referring to.

"Oh gosh, you watched that clip." He physically cringed. Peanut whined still wanting some grits. Jungkook pulled her onto his lap. Feeding the remaining of his grits to his baby girl.

"I'd hate to be Justin right now." Jennette laughed.

"Whatever." Jungkook kissed Peanut's cheek. Enjoying the rest of the breakfast hour with his little family.

AND SCENE <3

Happy holidays to all of my beautiful followers and readers. May the holidays be enjoyable and relaxing for you. 2024 is just around the corner. Wonderful things are waiting for you. Smooches ~~~

#jungkook x jennette #bts #black oc #jungkook #madameaug #black fem oc #jungkook x black women #jungkook family imagines #bts imagines #jungkook imagines #jungkook x black oc #black readers

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poppy-metal · 2 years

Note

u wanted dirty stuff so lemme try

eddie is at the store right now, you’re alone at his trailer in his room. as soon as he left, you grabbed one of his tshirts that he had already worn recently, and put it on. hoping you would have enough time before he got back, you laid down in his warm bed and began feeling yourself up.

eddie has been teasing you a lot today but not actually giving in and giving you what you wanted. needless to say you've gotten frustrated. you decided not to waste anymore time and slipped a hand into your embarrassingly wet cotton panties. you even wore the pink ones with polka dots because you knew he liked them. soft whimpers left your mouth while you began rubbing circles on your puffy little clit. smelling his scent from his tshirt alone was enough to get you worked up. the obscene noises coming from your slick pussy were enough to make your cheeks flushed. your pace increasing, worried eddie might be home soon.

all that could be heard were your whimpers and whines along with the wet sounds of your poor neglected pussy. rubbing your wet clit a little harder and faster now, you knew you were already getting close. it didn’t take much considering you’ve been worked up all day.

just when you were getting close, you heard the sound of someone’s throat being cleared. your eyes widened and you pulled the covers over yourself, reluctantly removing your hand from your panties. you’ve been caught. and by the look on eddies face, he wasn’t happy.

“touching yourself without permission, hm? tsk tsk tsk, thought you were better than that baby.” Your face was beyond flushed pink now. a part of you was excited though, knowing he would punish you. hoping it will be a punishment that you’ll enjoy, you bite your lip in anticipation. he stalked over to you, pulling the covers from your body. “hope it was worth it sweetheart,” his voice slightly deepened and his already dark brown eyes now almost black. “just couldn’t wait for me to get back, could you?” he spoke lowly while grabbing your wrists in one hand and pulling you up and off the bed.

he sat down leaning against the bed frame, looking at you with dark eyes, snd beckoned you to come over. you knew what he expected you to do. you crawled into the bed and laid over his lap on your stomach. he lifted your shirt up. “all you had to do was ask, angel,” he said while slowly running his palm over your ass. “m sorry daddy,” you whined. “s too late to be sorry baby,” he said before landing a hard smack on your ass. you jolted and whimpered at the sting, but you loved it. “how many do you think i should give you hm? greedy little baby purposely disobeying me, just to be punished. wanted this didn’t you, sweetheart? dirty fucking girl likes her punishments.”

he stopped for a moment. “colour?” he always asked this every few minutes when they were intimate. green for keeping going, yellow to slow down/be more gentle, and red to stop entirely. he never wanted to go too far with you, and was worried that you wouldn’t speak up if he did. so this was routine now. “green,” you spoke. he smiled to himself. “good.”

his spankings kept on, alternating between left and right. every time you jolted and whined, he would feel his cock twitch. you wondered how red your ass was, and if there would be marks. he gave you about 20, finally pulling your soiled panties down your thighs. “fucking drenched.” he took his fingers and slid them up and down your sopping wet slit. “so fucking wet for me, baby. fucking hell,” he groaned. “you were rubbing your little clit, weren’t you sweetheart?” you could only whine an “mhm” out.

and so he started rubbing unbearably slow circles on your puffy clit. you whined and squirmed underneath his touch, craving more. “daddy please,” you pleaded and he laughed. “you can do better than that baby.” you wriggled as his touch slowed. “no, please please, i- i need it. cant take it, please keep touching me, need it so bad.” he hummed in response, content with your begging. he started rubbing harder and faster, making those sick wet sounds from your pussy even louder. it didn’t take long until you were getting close again. however, eddie knows your body like the back of his hand. and he doesn’t need you to tell him when you’re close. he already knows. when your whines got louder, he stopped. you whimpered and squirmed around, rubbing your thighs together, trying to get some kind of friction, feeling your orgasm slip away.

he picked you up and threw your body back down on the bed, climbing on top of you. he straddled you, pulling his shirt off. all you could do was sit and watch as he undressed. you loved eddies chest. warm and tattooed. you watched his fingers undo his belt, eyeing the happy trail on his abdomen. he tugged his trousers off, threw his clothes somewhere in his room, and looked back at you ogling him. he smirked as your cheeks flushed red. “not sure if you even deserve to be fucked baby,” he teased while palming his hard cock through his boxers. “gonna have to convince me. why should i, hm?” you were on the verge of tears. “i’ll be good i promise, please fuck me.” you pouted and gave him your best puppy dog eyes, which always won him over. how could he say no to that pretty face?

he pulled off his boxers, his flushed cock slapping against his tummy. the mushroom head bright red and leaking his cloudy pre cum. he swiped his fingers through your folds, licking them clean, his eyes rolling back at your taste. he took some more, this time spreading it over his cock, pumping himself a few times and groaning at the sight of you. he rubbed the tip over your opening, before slowly sliding in. even if eddie was going to be rough with you, he always started slow to give you a minute to adjust. he wasn’t cruel.

when you nodded, telling him you were ready, he pulled almost all the way out, before slamming his hips against yours. you let out a strangled moan at the feeling of being so full. eddie buried his face in your neck as he fucked you, heavy pants and moans right against your ear. you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, and your arms around his back. you squeezed your eyes shut and your mouth hung open while your moans and screams of eddies name flew out. “always feel so fucking good baby shit. sweet little pussys always so warm and wet and tight for me. god fuck sweetheart. can feel you getting tighter baby. know you’re close angel.”

he was right. and (embarrassingly) barely took any time. you clawed your blunt nails down his back and he groaned. he kissed and sucked marks into your neck, just the way you like. you moaned helplessly into his shoulder, biting down a little. he loved that. you brought your face out of his neck and whined “eddie, please kiss me.” he immediately pulled his head up, a softer look in his eyes. “course baby.” he gave you a soft but needy kiss, his lips moulding with yours. you sighed and he took the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, running his up against yours. the tip of his cock hit a that sensitive sponges spot inside you, your walls tightening around him. “fuck, i feel you baby. it’s okay, let go for me. be a good girl and cum, cum for me, all over my cock angel.” that was all it took until you practically screamed his name, moaning louder as you finally came. “eddie! m cumming m cumming eddie, please don’t stop,” and you came hard. eddie followed quickly behind you, grunting and groaning against your neck while he came. you could feel his warm milky cum filling you up, and it felt so good. his hips stuttered while he fucked both of you through your release.

he pulled out slowly, and you whined at the empty feeling. he smirked and chuckled at that. then he decided to do something a little bit mean. he leaned down, his face right in front of your pussy, and he gently licked and lapped all of the cum, both his and yours. you whimpered and tugged on his hair, and he smiled against your pussy. he licked up all of it while your thighs shook. tongue moving slow up and down through your folds, groaning against your cunt. your thighs were spasming now, and he decided he wouldn’t torture you anymore.

he crawled back up your body, leaving kisses in his wake. he pressed his soft and now wet lips against yours, and you could taste both him and yourself on his tongue. it felt so dirty but so good. you pouted as he got up, reassuring you that he would be right back. he came back with a small wet towel, and cleaned you up properly. being extra gentle against your poor wrecked pussy. up and down your inner thighs. he threw the the towel into the laundry bin, turned off the lights, and climbed back into bed with you. he pulled the covers over both of you, wrapped his arms around you, and pulled your body towards his. you nuzzled under his chin, relishing in the feeling of being in his strong arms. he ran his fingers through your hair gently and rubbed your back slow. “feeling okay?” you mumbled an “mhm.” “wasn’t too mean was i?” you smiled, “no,” you said, cuddling into his chest.

he kissed the top of your head. “love you y/n. sleep well, sweet dreams, darling” he said and pulled you as close as possible. “love you eddie, gnight.” and soon enough you both fell asleep together, as content as can be.

hi i hope you liked it mwah

u really dont want me to be normal

#ask #eddie spaghetti

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variety-fangirl · 9 months

Note

Not a lot of ppl write for him and idk if you still do but I just finished blackbird and I Loved your Jimmy imagine! Can I pls request something similar to that where she visits again maybe further along in his sentence or something about their pre prison life together?

Together Again / Jimmy Keene x fem!reader

Part 1 here

Summary: it had been 13 months of Jimmy's sentence and working to learn about Larry's crimes so he could be out sooner, fearing for his safety even further. The thought of seeing you again reminds Jimmy of memories of your life together, pushing him to reveal the truth from Larry about his killings.

Warnings: 18+ NO MINORS mentions of crimes, mentions of serial killer Larry Hall, brief mention of sex, lmk if I missed anything.

Authors note: absolutely my love! I have noticed not a lot of people write for him and that makes me sad because I loved the series and the character! Thank you 😁 that means a lot. Of course, I like both ideas so I decided to incorporate both. I hope you liked it and it turned out the way you wanted. Liking, reblogging, and commenting really helps me out! Thank you and enjoy!

Word count: 2k

13 months. It had been 13 months since Jimmy had been arrested and taken from you. It had been the hardest 13 months of your life but you knew it had been even harder for Jimmy. When he had told you about the deal where he would be out in a year and a half but had to gather intel by befriending a suspected serial killer, you had disagreed. You felt it would be far too dangerous and mentally draining for Jimmy to deal with, potentially hearing confessions of horrific crimes against young vulnerable girls. The idea had made you feel sick inside. You knew Jimmy would be able to be a free man, back with you in a much shorter amount of time but still, at what cost? Potentially his life if Larry found out he was lying?

Jimmy had spent the whole phone call and the next meeting talking about why it was a good idea and why he should take the deal, trying his hardest for you to be okay with the idea. Eventually, you ended up caving, needing him back with you, in your shared home. A second chance to turn your lives around and be happy together. But that didn't mean you were any less terrified of him not turning up at your next meeting. The fear that Larry would figure him out and kill him for betraying his trust made your blood run cold every time, filling you with dread.

Jimmy would spend the majority of his nights in his cell thinking and dreaming about getting back to you, back to his girl. He missed his dad of course but you were the things that kept him sane through the whole process and what allowed him to get close to Larry, you were a very motivational thought. He would often spend hours lying awake thinking about your life together, reminiscing about the special moments you spent together and how much he truly missed them. Missed you. And of course, he missed the more intimate and sexual moments you shared together. He didn't exactly have freedom or privacy in here, people would be listening and that didn't appeal to him.

Jimmy thought about the first day he met you five years ago, he had fallen for you the second he saw you. You were so beautiful in your red polka-dot sundress and small white heels as you sat with your friends in the local diner, you were drinking a vanilla milkshake. The way you held his eye contact as he walked past with his friends drew him in immediately, especially as that little blush smile appeared on your face before looking away. After thirty minutes of stolen glances and flirty smiles, Jimmy finally got the courage to come up and talk to you. The conversation flowed so well and neither of you could seem to stay far apart from the other. It didn't take it long for him to ask you on a date.

He thought about your first date the following weekend, he wanted to impress you so he took you to a nice restaurant. You had blown him away when he picked you up, dressed to impress. You wore a black cocktail dress with a slit that came to mid-thigh and showed just enough cleavage to be tasteful, it hugged your curves perfectly. Jimmy had never seen someone so effortlessly beautiful before, you made him hard just looking at you. The date had gone better than either you had imagined, you had connected on another level, and everything just felt so natural between you both. As if you had known each other for years. As the night went on, you inched closer and closer to one another, faces inches apart until you shared your first kiss. It was gentle and passionate, just perfect.

He thought about the first night you spent together, a month after he'd met you. You were the first girl he wanted to wait to sleep with, to show you he was genuinely serious about you. He knew from the moment you first talked that you were the one, he just had this gut feeling that told him so. It was the same night he had asked you to be his girlfriend, you had said yes to being his and he could not have been happier. He didn't feel like he deserved you but he damn well would show you how lucky he felt. It had been a night full of passion and intimacy, gentle touches and taking everything slow. He didn't want to just fuck you and be done, no, he wanted to take his time and make you feel loved. Sex had never felt that good with anyone else, none of the others had mattered enough to take his time with them. But you, you were different, special to him.

He thought about the day he first met your parents and you had met his, a day apart. Meeting your parents was something that genuinely terrified him when not a lot did, but he truly wanted your parents to like him and approve of you guys dating. It comforted him to know that you were equally as scared as he was to meet the parents, not that you had to be though because he already knew his father would love you. What was not to love? You were amazing. You even went as far as to get a gift for his father, you wanted to make a good impression. Jimmy himself had bought flowers for your mother and some beer for your father. Seeing how much each other's familes loved the other made you both feel so happy. Both days had gone so well that it solidified your relationship all the more, you were it for one another.

He thought about the day he had asked you to move in with him, it was about eight months after you first started dating. Nothing felt as right as the day he'd asked you to move in with him, he knew it was the right thing to do. Every day when he watched you leave his house would kill him, he didn't want to be apart from you. He felt completely and whole when you were near, he always had to touch you in some way. A hand on your thigh, his arm around your back or shoulder, his lips kissing your head or face frequently, he just wanted to always feel you close. You didn't mind, you loved it, your love language was physical affection and words of affirmation. So for you, it was perfect. So when he asked you to live with him, it just made sense and felt like you were serious enough to make that huge step.

He thought about the simple happy days you spent together over the years, enjoying one another's company. Being in prison made him miss the small stuff, things he realised he'd taken for granted before. Something as simple as cuddling in bed, being able to kiss you, say good morning, watching a film whilst cuddling on the sofa, the small things. He missed them so much, he missed you so much. Yes, he got to see you every few weeks but it wasn't the same, he couldn't touch you or spend proper time with you. It was absolute hell for you both, there was nothing more than either of you wanted than to share an intimate kiss or have some alone time.

The next time Jimmy saw you was a month later, 14 months of serving his sentence and 14 months of hell. He was beyond exhausted and mentally drained, he looked tired and a bit worn down but still as handsome as the day he left. He'd been working out plenty whilst inside you'd noticed, his arms visibly bigger than a year ago. Having to talk to Jimmy behind a glass wall with phones was torture, having him so close and yet you couldn't touch or speak to him properly without that weird muffled sounding voice. You placed your hand against the glass with a sad smile, watching intently as Jimmy sat down opposite you, the same expression evident on his face as his hand meets yours. The distance was getting to you both, that much was apparent.

"Hi." You say quietly, as each month passed, it become more and more emotional every time you came to visit Jimmy, you just wanted him home. "Hey sweetheart, how's my girl doing?" Jimmy wonders with a smile, he needed something to distract himself. You didn't really know what to say, how were you supposed to tell him you'd been utterly lost without him all this time, not really doing much of anything outside of keeping your shared home cleaner than it's ever been and visiting his dad a few times a week to try and distract yourself. Or how lonely your bed felt each night, especially as you found yourself waking up on Jimmy's side of the bed as you wore one of his shirts to sleep in.

"I'm okay, mostly worried about you. I'm spending loads of time with your dad though, so that's good. How are you holding up?" You lied because you needed to be strong for Jimmy, if he knew you weren't doing okay mentally or emotionally, he would be worrying himself to death inside every day and would be racked with guilt. More so than he already does, and you didn't want that. You saw a flash of some emotion you couldn't pinpoint in Jimmy's eyes before he smiled, you were never good at lying, so it wouldn't surprise you if he could see straight through your lie.

"Good baby, I'm glad. I'm hoping I won't be in here much longer, I feel like I'm getting close to Larry, I think he'll give up details soon. And then I can finally come home, and we can be together again... If you'll have me." Jimmy smiled hopefully as if he was expecting you to get fed up and leave him. He was surprised you hadn't, though he wouldn't have blamed you when his sentence was read out. 10 years was a long time to wait for someone. Yet you stayed faithfully by his side this whole time. He had some ass-kissing and making-up to do when he got out.

A look of hurt flashed across your face, "You know I will, of course, baby. You're my everything." It made you sad to think Jimmy believed you would leave him, you would never! Not that you could even if you wanted to, you were hooked and too deeply in love with Jimmy to leave now. He's your forever. He was the person you wanted to spend the rest of your life with, to be your husband and the father of your children.

A look of relief appears on Jimmy's face, "You're too good for me baby, I don't deserve you." He whispers into the phone, a longing and loving look in his eyes. You shake your head, disagreeing, "You're plenty enough and wonderful, and so deserving of me and my love." Your voice has a shake to it, tears brimming your eyes. "I really need you home." You whisper with a sigh, trying your hardest not to cry. Jimmy huffs, an intense gaze on his face, "I want to be so badly, hopefully, it won't be too much longer now and we can be back together again."

The buzzer goes off and the guards come along to escort you out, letting you know your time together was up. You look back to Jimmy and smile sadly, "I love you, be safe okay? Come back to me." You whisper with tears in your eyes. Jimmy nods, "I love you, I'll see you soon baby." He watches you stand and walk away, watching you leave broke his heart every time. He vowed from that moment that he was going to get those details from Larry and he was going to get out, back home to you.

#jimmy keene #jimmy keene x reader #blackbird #Fluff #Y/n #Angst #Larry hall serial killer

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around1302 · 1 year

Text

I. BIRTHDAY BLUES

SPARE PARTS: a series (1/20)

AVIVA STADIUM, DUBLIN

(W) strong language, alcohol & drug use

CHARLIE’S POV

“You know what your fuckin’ issue is?”

“Oh yeah? Tell me now, Charlie, right before we play to 50,000 people.”

“51,700, actually.”

“Bite me, princess.”

Harry, as always, was late. Twenty fucking minutes late. I thought, naively, that maybe he would surprise me. That this time, on the first show of our world stadium tour, he would actually rock up at the agreed-upon time. But no, twenty minutes after we were meant to be on stage, he rolled in as cool and collected as ever while I'd been pacing anxiously.

I had jumped up from my place by the covered speaker, promptly whacked him on his ridiculously polka-dotted shoulder, and began the earache for the rest of them (who all, by habit at this point, groaned and covered said ears).

“You guys ready?” A crew member interrupts us seconds from an actual fistfight and begins lifting the crimson curtain, one we’d all have about ten seconds to mentally prepare behind before a screen would be lifted and we’d be on display to (I am correct) 51,700 awaiting fans.

“Ready as we’ll ever be,” Niall answers, adjusting his guitar strap, “you guys think you can keep it in your pants for the next ninety minutes?”

Overlapping grumbles of disgust from Harry and I echo the small backstage as Louis thrusts his palm in the middle of us all. I roll my eyes but can’t help the small tug of my lips as the ritual begins. Liam follows, sticking his trusty drum sticks in his pocket to slap his palm atop Louis’. Niall joins, Harry’s ring-clad hand eventually makes its appearance, and I reluctantly top the pile.

“Spare Parts on three, yeah?” Louis asks, as if that wasn’t obvious by now.

“On three,” Liam affirms regardless.

“One,”

“Two,”

“Spare Parts!”

“Okay, you’re up,” Clipboard-Man lifts the heavy red curtain, making the screams suddenly louder, realer, scarier, “break a leg.”

“We’ll try not to,” I smile, trying not to let the nerves wobble my bottom lip as I barge past Harry to get to the front, not caring to turn for his reaction.

I know that for the next ninety minutes it will be all fake smiles and even faker laughs with my singing partner, so as he takes up his position beside me, I decide to steal one last scowl and a hissed, “this isn’t over,” before the screen suddenly lifts and there they are.

51 and fucking 700.

“Ire-land!” Niall shouts into the mic attached to his face, throwing his hands in the air as we all shakily step out and try not to pass out in front of the overwhelming crowd. We all knew going in that this was really Niall’s gig, and so he was more than happy to take the reigns for our first show.

You can barely see a person for the bright lights beaming back at the five of us, but by the edge of the stage you can just about see signs and fuck can you hear them. The cheers for us is something I can never get used to, no matter how long we’ve been doing it for. I imagine myself being old and gray and wrinkled and still surprised if I’m stopped in the street.

“It’s good to be home!” Niall’s met by the sounds of thousands of – apparently dying – fans, “Ireland, we have a special treat for you tonight.”

I stand with my arm leant against Louis, my usual safe haven, and laser my focus on the back of Harry’s head as he anxiously messes with his hair, just so I don’t have to watch the crowd.

“You good, Char?” Louis pulls down his mic and whispers, moving his bass out of my way. I send him an over-exaggerated (and unconvincing) nod, trying my hardest not to let the nerves crumble me into a dusty pile atop that stage.

Gigs? Fine. An arena tour? Done. But a stadium tour? A world stadium tour? I’m realising (in probably the worst place) just how new and terrifying this territory is.

“Today is a very special day for us,” Harry continues, turning around and glaring at me with wide, scolding eyes. I quickly take the hint, sucking in the last of my confidence to step forward to him, “because six years ago today, we were formed as a band.”

The crowd rips into cheers heard deafeningly even through my earpiece, and despite the plummeting feeling I have deep in my chest, I feel an aura of safety. Despite there being a lot, lot more of them than I’m used to – they’re here for us. They paid, they showed up, they’re screaming for us.

“We want to thank you all,” I boom, my voice leaving me firmer than I expected, “so much, from the bottom of all our hearts. We wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you guys.”

“We love you!” A fan yelps out amongst the screams.

“We love you more,” Harry quickly shoots back, ever the moment-stealer, “and to show you how much we love you,” he glances back at Niall, who begins to play a few opening cords of Teenage Dirtbag, “we’re going to play the very first song we ever sang together.”

Liam kicks in with the drums as I continue.

“Six years ago, we were nothing but strangers thrown together, and now we’re up here as a family,” I glance at Harry, a look that is met with a knowing – mocking – smirk. I try not to scowl, “thank you, Ireland. We love you. This is Teenage Dirtbag!”

Harry and I share an always oddly reassuring look as our earpieces give us the count-in and the opening notes of our first song begin.

Despite our off-stage hatred, on-stage we always seem to mesh. Maybe it’s because Harry Styles is so drastically different to Harry that he’s actually bearable, or maybe we’re just equally as terrified. Either way, as I begin to shakily sing her part, I don’t miss the way Harry watches me from the sidelines until I stand stronger in my voice and melt into Charlie Greene.

“I think last night was our best show yet.”

“You say that every show, Liam.”

“What? It’s true.”

“Will you guys shush,” scolding brogue suddenly emerges from the corner, “she’ll be here any minute.”

Cryptically, I kind of hope it all backfires. Amelia walks in too early, or she hates the balloons, or has the date wrong. As my hamstrings burn within their crouched position behind some seating, my eyes boring into the plushy velvet till I’m sure I hate the colour yellow, I wish that under some power of some God that Niall doesn’t win this one.

Call me petty, but I’m damn well allowed to be. It was me plaiting her hair and gossiping about our classmates and being her shoulder to cry on for the most part of our lives. I was supposed to be the one who bought all the pink glittery vodka out, and ensure the only music playing from the jukebox will be Red (TV) and, and… well, fuck.

It’s perfect. He’s perfect. They’re perfect.

I hate this.

“Do you want to make it any less obvious you’re bitter about this whole thing?”

“Shut up, Louis,” I grumble, not bothering to meet his eye. I already know it’s going to be judgmental, “I’m the worst friend in the world, I’m allowed to be pissed.”

“Maybe, but suck it up for one night, yeah?”

I flag him in the dark, our eyes so adjusted at this point he sees clear as day and flases me a sarcastic grin right back. He’s right – I do need to suck it up, but with how busy I’ve been lately with the new album and tour preparations, I should have at least planned my best friend’s 22nd to make up for the lost time. She’s been excited for this day since we were twelve and replayed Taylor Swift dancing in heart glasses and a (questionable) fedora a trillion times.

Niall had organised everyone to be at Malibu’s for half seven before getting Zayn to shoot Amelia a text to meet at eight. According to her, this was going to be a semi-normal Friday night at our usual; she’d be hanging out with Zayn as the rest of us are ‘still in Ireland.’ Except, we’d all be jumping out of the darkness when the door chimes open. The last person to arrive did so about ten minutes ago, omitting, of course, one exception…

The usual exception.

where are u ??

Sent 19:35

seriously, where are u

Sent 19:40

dude.

Sent 19:46

this isn’t funny, this is lia’s day

Sent 19:50

HELLO??

Sent 19:55

i genuinely hope u get crushed in traffic

Sent 19:59

To be late to everything is one thing, but to be late to a surprise party for not only my best friend but a subsequent good friend of the whole band is taking the piss. Amelia’s due any minute, and–

A rectangle of light flows into the room, the door chimes – fuck, it’s showtime, and I’m riddled with frustation while I should be tingling with pre-emptive happiness for my friend. Anticipation straightens my spine as Niall flicks the light on by the door and we all jump out popping glittery confetti and yelling jovial surprises to…, not Amelia. Harry barely looks up from his phone as everyone murmurs collective confusion and groans of annoyance at the wasted string now adorning the bar floor.

“God, you’re a fucking idiot, H,” Niall grabs his arm, yanking him to the side as his eyes flicker around the room, seemingly taking this all in as if this is news. Niall turns to us, presumably to tell everyone to get back in place and forget the fact all the party poppers are ruined, but not a few moments later the actual birthday girl appears in the doorway. Everyone yells surprise again, this time a little weaker.

I wish I could see her face, but I’m too busy hoping the phrase ‘if looks could kill’ is true as I glare at Harry. In his (teeny tiny) defence, he looks genuinely confused, and we’re all running on two hours of sleep and a whole bunch of heat exhaustion. But, the several texts I sent and the fact this has been discussed in endless amounts in the past few weeks feed him little sympathy from me.

“Sorry, Lia,” Niall starts, “this was meant to be a surprise party, but–”

“You threw me a party? You’re here?”

“Yes, but–”

“Baby!” Amelia squeals, jumping into her boyfriend’s arms. I half roll my eyes, of course, she doesn’t care she’s walked into an awkwardly bright ‘surprise’ where the guests are uncomfortably half crouched behind furniture and the bar. She’s human fucking sunshine, she has no idea Harry just ruined it all – lest if she does, she doesn’t care. Niall waves to everyone from behind Amelia’s embrace to get on with the party, so the jukebox kicks in and people start to crawl their way to all the pink vodka sitting atop the polished bar.

Louis, Liam and I are finally able to stretch our legs, and Harry’s attention shifts back to his phone. It takes everything in me not to follow him and beat the everliving shit out of that motherfu–

“Charlie! You’re here too!”

My violent thoughts are cut off by Amelia suddenly before me, beaming and looking kind of surprised. A little offended, I engulf her in a hug, trying not to spiral into why my best friend seems shocked I’m at her birthday party. She just thought we’d be in Ireland, that’s all. Nothing to do with me. Or my schedule. Or my not being there lately.

We pull from each other, my mouth opening to wish her a happy birthday, say anything, but Louis pulls her into a hug and my distracted eyes catch Harry behind her. The rage that fills me at just the sight of his back is so familiar at this point, I live day and night with the feeling. I realise Amelia’s busy enough with the tens of people who came to celebrate her, so slinking away to the bar is easy enough.

"Your phone seems to be working fine, then."

I take up the sticky leather stool beside him, making him jump a little as he’s entirely engrossed in his device. God, he’s like a toddler. Harry sighs, setting his apparent lifeline face down atop the bar before tilting in his chair to face me, our denim-covered knees bashing together in the process.

"What are you talking about?"

My tongue pokes at my cheek to stop myself from biting his head off.

"I texted you. Like a million times."

"Ah,” he lifts his chin, “I had you blocked years ago, princess."

Why doesn't that surprise me? I roll my eyes and turn to face the racks of liquor, eyeing which bottle I'd most like to drown in first. A Harry-shaped blob moves in my peripheral, propping it’s elbow on the wood and leaning it’s head against it’s palm.

"I'm kidding. I was driving, I picked Amelia up.

"You picked her up?!” And I thought I couldn’t get angrier.

"That's what 'I picked up Amelia' means, yes."

I scramble for words, for sanity. "Why?"

"Her studio was on the way and I had time to kill."

He’s un-fucking-believable, “you couldn't have at least let her walk in first?"

At this point, I genuinely can't tell if Harry really forgot this was meant to be a surprise or if he’s just that self-centred. Probably a healthy mix of both.

"Apparently not. Now, this is lovely," he straightens, grabs his phone and nods to someone behind the bar. I follow his gaze, seeing (predictably) Rachel waiting beside the staff exit, bottom lip between her teeth, a joint between her fingers, "but I'm going to talk to people I actually like."

I let his little comment slide, settling for a scoff and a grumble beneath my breath as he disappears behind the bar. Slinging his arm around Rachel, Harry takes the joint from her and the two of them enter the smoking area together.

"Hey, stranger."

I snap out of my frustration-fuelled daze, blinking back to a reality where Zayn’s standing before me – all kind whiskey eyes and awaiting smiles and inky marks peaking from his usual black shirt. I grin, the type of happiness I only ever get from him distracting me and pulling me back to Earth.

"Z, hey!"

"What're you drinking?" He slings a towel over his shoulder, leaning his forearms against the bar as he becomes close. Dangerously close. Close enough for me to smell his sagey aftershave and spilt liquor. I hum, avoiding his eye to browse the racks again.

We met Zayn years ago when trying to discover bars that wouldn’t be swamped with paps, and all became fast friends with him when he offered us discounted drinks for tattoo practice. And, low and behold, three years down the line, we're all borderline alcoholics with shitty tattoos.

Him and the pap-less element of Malibu’s keeps us the dive bar’s most loyal customers, because fuck me if the drinks aren’t bad. Zayn’s one of the best people I know – terrible bartender, though. The worse. He's always said bartending is just a way to make ends meet while he works on his art, and I believe him, but God I hope he meets those ends soon. I'm always cautious when ordering from him, and as much as I'd love to get absolutely wasted tonight, alcohol poisoning's probably not the way to go.

"Tequila?"

"Right up," he winks, turning to grab some Don from the top rack. While he's getting my shots ready, I notice Harry’s return: Rachel-less and a little more rugged than before. He coughs as he sulks behind me and takes his seat back up, brushing his long locks back and behind his ears. I squint my eyes as I study him; he messes with his hair, then coughs again, then adjusts the buttons on his shirt, and then messes with his hair one last time.

Zayn lays out three shots accompanied by three limes and three pots of salt, and after Harry has ordered himself a whiskey I can't help myself.

"Five minutes has to be a record."

He sighs, nodding thanks toward Zayn after he sets down the glass and leaves to serve another customer.

"Try not to sound too jealous, Charlie."

I scoff, preparing myself for my first shot, “what of? A five-minute snog?"

"Eugh," Harry splutters. I pause while lining up a line of salt on the back of my hand.

"What?"

"That word."

I pique, "what word? Snog?"

He shudders, bringing his glass up to his lips. “Don’t say it again."

"God, you're twelve," I take a deep breath – I'm terrible at shots – lick the salt, shoot the shot, and suck the lime till the bitterness overpowers the petrol-like burning stops it’s Hellish trail down my throat, "what would you call it then?" The question leaves me a little rougher than I intended, and Harry’s low chuckle at my struggle seems to prolong the recovery time.

"I don't know," he clears his throat, "how about we do it then you tell me?"

I pause, once again, mid-line. He full-on belly laughs, now.

"You're disgusting," this one seems to go down harsher, but something in me tells me it's because Harry just put that image in my head.

"Least I'm not bagging free drinks from my ex."

I shake my head, my eyes squeezed shut while I juggle recovering and coming back with something witty.

"They're not free," fumbled the witty thing, seemingly, “and he’s not my ex.”

I push the two empty glasses aside, mentally preparing myself for my third and final shot. The good thing about my alcohol tolerance is that it is worryingly low. These shots will do me for the next few hours; enough to have me dancing on tables, not enough to make my head bang any more than it usually does in the show we have tomorrow.

“Right,” he gives me a look behind the whiskey glass, the rim just brushing his bottom lip as his arched brows raise, “just someone you used to frequently bang and cried about, what was it… five times one night?”

"Whatever," I’m sick of this salt now, "at least I have somewhat of an ex," I coat my tongue with the bitter crystals, asking a muffled, "how long was your relationship, again?"

Harry swallowed the last of his whiskey, "five minutes, according to you.”

taglist: @lilfreakjez @be-with-me-so-happily

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #spare parts series #harry styles enemies to lovers #harry styles smut #1d series #1d smut #ot5 #1d ot5 #one direction ot5 #one direction series #harry styles series #harry styles x oc #harry styles angst

200 notes · View notes

aliypop · 6 months

Text

Rockin Tonight

Word Count: 2,098

Writers Note: A 50's Elvis smut lord have Mercy

Warning: SMUT MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Pairing: OC x Elvis

Plot: After a few months of touring, Cecelia and Elvis decide to fool around a bit ... With their music that is, but when a few secrets about Cecelia get out, well let's just say there's a whole lotta shakin going on.

Taglist: If you wanna be tagged let me know!

@darkmoviesquotespizza

@sissylittlefeather

@richardslady121

@thegettingbyp2

@presleyenterprise

@sissylittlefeather

@dkayfixates

@rjmartin11

@thetaoofzoe

Nashville Tennessee. 1955

"And right over here is the kitchen. It's the one area we don't have help in." Cecelia smiled as she gave Elvis and his group a tour of her family mansion. They'd all just returned from a tour with each other. When Cecelia decided why not have everyone relax in Valmos manor. After all, her parents were on tour pretending to be in love for appearances, and Midge was here, so clearly nothing could go,

"And over here is... Wait, where's Scotty and Rosa..."

"If you gotta ask, you don't wanna know," Daphane responded.

Wrong, Or at least so she'd hoped nothing would. Cecelia only had one thing on her mind to impress.

"Presley... you okay?" Midge asked as Cecelia looked over at him.

"I just ain't never seen so many awards on one wall..." he looked in amazement. Midge had gestured to Cecelia to come over, seeing as she froze. Cecelia hadn't had the best luck with her emotions. She could say it in a song. Cecelia could even write it out. She could pretend to be charming so she wouldn't go completely mute around him,

But when you're standing next to Elvis, who was ogling at your parent's success. Well, that becomes too much to handle.

"You know my mama played this record repeatedly."

"Well, it's a classic." Cecelia sighed.

"It sure is... Say, is it true you have a music room?"

"Mhmm, It's right upstairs." Cecelia smiled, leading towards the grand staircase.

Midge was walking behind the two as Cecelia glared at her. The older woman gave her a nod, shaking her head, "Don't do anything I wouldn't do!"Midge shouted as Cecelia nearly cringed into herself.

"That ain't much..." Daphane mumbled to her aunt.

The upstairs of the mansion had velvet curtains hung on the window and fancy gold wallpaper with gold trim around it on the walls. It was almost something like a castle, but Elvis wasn't paying much attention to it. Not when his view was Cecelia in a pink halter top polka dot dress that he wanted to get under her petticoat skirt and-

"Elvis..." Their hands nearly brushed against each other, and a spark almost set off between them.

"Yes, mama." he winked. Cecelia had hoped her cheeks weren't as red as the velvet curtains.

"Welcome to paradise."

"I'm lookin right at it..." he mumbled,

"At what?"

"T-Th-T-The uh music room, yeah."

There were guitars. A grand piano, a harp, a tambourine, and anything else you could think of was in this room. The masterpiece was Cecelia, with her leg crossed on top of her White Falcon Gretsch. Picking a Gibson Guitar off the wall, Elvis sat not too far from Cecelia, who was stealing a glance at his fingerwork. She hadn't thought much of it when they were on stage performing, but it was different when she could see how concentrated he was and how fast his long, nimble fingers were strumming away on the fret. And the way his Thumb was picking on the string only made her curious mind wonder what his fingers could do. After all, Rosa did tell her the best man to cure that pleasurable itch in bed was a man who was good with his fingers. And boy, was he proving it. With every lick, her body would shiver, and with every chord. She'd squeeze her legs tighter. Any friction would keep her from fantasizing about having him play her like a guitar.

"If you bite your lip any harder, honey. It might bleed..."

"H-huh..." Trying to keep a straight face as she looked at those tantalizing blue eyes of his, Elvis knew what was going on in that head of hers. It wasn't like out of the many girls he'd been with. She was the name he'd call out when he was alone, picturing her pretty fingers around his-

"Nothing, doll..." he got closer as she looked down at the floor. His hand lightly brushed against her thigh, and he was sure he heard her draw back a moan,

"Question..."

"P-Possible answer."

"Do I make you nervous or somethin..." he whispered in her ear.

"Why do you say that? Am I acting nervous..." Cecelia asked, trying to laugh it off,

"A little... And I think I know why." he laughed. Cecelia hoped he didn't know why,

"Why's that..."

"You wanna pluck me all night long, don'tcha..."

"I-I..."

"Aye, don't fret about it, mama..." Elvis kept going as Cecelia turned red, his hands creeping up the hem of her dress.

"I've never really. Uh, done it!" She panicked as the room around got silent. She couldn't take the teasing anymore.

"You mean you've never even fooled around with..."

"I've done that... many times.. thinking about you..." it slipped out. Oh, how embarrassed she was that she just admitted that.

"an what do you think of when you think of me." Elvis kissed her neck softly as she bit her lip. He should've known Cecelia was a virgin. It all made the dots connect as he thought about how she acted toward him when they shared a bed,

"Elvis... I-It's dirty stuff ..."

"You can tell me. I won't judge, doll." he kissed her cheek, "In fact, before we go any further, I wanna know something."

"What's that..."

"Were you savin it for a special gentleman..."

Cecelia's brown eyes were starting to get lustful just by the question,

"Yes..."

"Do I know this special gentleman..."

Cecelia's skin began to heat up as she leaned in closer toward him, his curly cowlick driving her insane,

"You do..."

"Does he deserve to have you..."

"You do..." Elvis was taken aback by her answer as Cecelia was lost in his love-shot blue eyes. There had been many girls who wanted him to take their virginity, but this one, Cecelia, was special.

"Can I ask you something..."

"Mhmm..."

"May I have you?"

"Yes, please, make me Crescendo into a fortissimo ." she kissed him passionately, her fingers in his hair.

"Where do you want me..." he asked, already panting from the kiss,

"Everywhere..."

"I meant, where do ya wanna do it, doll..."

"My bedroom, third door down."

Cecelia's room was a soft pink with hints of lavender and silk bedding. It looked like something from the movies. With her vanity and lamp next to it, he had thought he was in Rita Hayworth's room until he closed the door. "See, someone's been practin..." He smirked, looking at the lipstick-stained poster of him on her door. Cecelia had felt embarrassed. But Elvis thought it was cute. After all, he did have a few posters of her in his room that he hid from Gladys, or so he thought.

"I wouldn't call that much of anything..." she pinned him to the wall and kissed him again. This time, with a bit more wanting and need, Elvis had his hands on her hips, fiddling with the zipper on the back of her dress. He could smell Cecelia's expensive perfume on her skin, and those late-night thoughts started creeping back up. The ones where he was carrying her to bed with their lips still connected in a kiss as spark-filed like a Texas firework show, and where he'd lay her on the bed slowly tossing her petticoat over, as he'd kiss up her thighs. Removing her nylon stockings from their garters and he'd look at her and say,

"You sure this is what you want, darlin."

"Yes..." she looked at him, thinking about how she'd unbuckle his belt. And throw that tantalizing lace button-up shirt off him, and how she'd pull him closer to her as he'd kiss her neck, leaving love bites, and she'd say, "Elvis... I need you to..." she gasped, feeling his hands creep up her thigh.

"Need me too what, angel..." he leaned into her ear, whispering as he bit on her ear lobe,

"Treat me like a guitar..."

"Treat ya like a guitar?"

"Yes, finger me all night long..."

"I'm gonna do more than that," he smirked, kissing down her collarbone as he rubbed a circle near her covered clit, feeling just how wet she was from her panties alone. A shudder went through her body from the sensation alone as a small mewl left her mouth. This was different from when she did it.

"I know you think about me at night..." Elvis smirked, tossing her panties to the side as he slid in his first finger, sliding it slowly back out of her as she closed her eyes, biting her lips,

"EL-"

"I know you think about me havin my way with you like this, huh." he plunged his finger back in, curling it towards her spot.

"Vis..." she moaned softly, "Give me more..." she breathed out as he chuckled.

"Gotta say please, darlin."

"Please give me more."

"That's more like it."He added another finger as she hissed a bit at the stretch, "Breathe, mama, breathe." he smiled, hearing her take a deep breath. His fingers were working magic as his thumb was rubbing on her clit. Much like how he was strumming a guitar, he was playing every note, and her moans were a symphony. A newly written song he could have played on repeat.

"Elvis! fuck... "

"Shit.... shit... shit..."

"Ah...oh...."

"I think you're all warmed up for the main event." He dropped off his underwear as Cecelia's eyes went wide, she'd imagine that he was good in size, but from what she saw he was gifted by the Gods, and she wanted a taste, to touch even,

"This is all about you tonight," he smiled as she nodded,

"You got a rubber right..."

"Of course."

"Is it up to date?"

"Cece, really..."

Hey, you have a reputation for broken rubbers and E.R. visits." she laughed a little as he rolled his eyes at her.

"Yet I'm your Romeo." he kissed down her neck.

"Mhmm..." she groaned, "Oddly so."

"Well, Juliet, baby, hold on tight." entering her overtly wet cavern, slowly and carefully not tearing anything. He could see Cecelia's eyes closed shut, her nose scrunched up,

"I won't move til you say for me to."

"Does it usually hurt..." she asked, holding his hand,

"A little, but the pain goes away the more you do it." he teased as she looked up at him, flustered.

"I-If you continue to do it!"

"If it's with you." she winked, "You can move now," she told him. His thrusts were slow and steady, and his groans were as soft as thunder in her ear.

"Elvis, yes..."

"How's that feelin' for ya."

"It feels good..." she moaned, and their eyes met. As Elvis's hand caressed her cheek, he realized that the love of his life was right under him, telling him,

"More..."

"You sure, baby, you think you can take all of me?"

"Mhmm..."

"Eager little kitten, huh." pushing more of his cock deeper into her, she could feel him brush against the spot. that was driving her crazy. Elvis had her. All he had to do was think strategically.

"O-Oh... Oh... yes, right there, don't stop!!" she was gripping his body, her pink nails digging into the skin of his back,

"You like that?"

"Faster, baby, faster!" his hips nearly gyrating as if he were on stage, but it was sending her to every ounce of heaven that a human could possibly give her. "Cece...Fuck... shit...I love you..."

Cecelia's heart began to beat, and she wasn't sure if it was because of what he had just said or if she was reaching her end. Legs trembling as he was now nearly pounding into her, his thrust sloppy and her hands trying to find anything to grab, curses and skin slapping had been all that anyone could hear but Cecelia didn't care she was on cloud nine in the arms of a man she loved dearly.

Elvis had disposed of the rubber and Cecelia was trying to walk again as she was waddling around like Bambi,

"Is that normal..." Elvis caught her as he held her close,

"Only if I done my job right." he kissed her cheek, "Now let's get you all cleaned up."

Walking down the stairs, Midge, Daphane, and Scotty were a bit surprised at the discovery that had been bestowed upon them,

"What were you two up there doing..."

"Uh swing dancing," Cecelia said,

"Must've been swingin real hard..." Scotty said under his breath as Elvis and Cecelia blushed hard.

"So are you two gonna swing again..." Rosa asked as Cecelia glared at her.

"Depends if she's got another lesson."

#oc #fanfiction #new stuff #new #elvis presley #elvis fanfiction #elvis the pelvis #elvis x oc #cecelia valmos #poc x canon #poc oc x elvis #elvis smut #50s elvis #Spotify

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blueberryrock · 2 years

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Birthday Surprise.

Summary: with Steven and Marc's 37th birthday today, Y/N has decided to give them a gift they will never forget

Warnings: pregnancy and fluff really, the end might be a little angsty but it's very light, and it's 1.4k words

A/N i don't think i've seen anyone do something like this yet? Or i've just missed those fics lmao, anyways i just wanted some Steven fluff and so i wrote steven fluff! I left this open-ended because i'm thinking of making a part 2? But y'all would have to let me know if you want that. Enjoy!!

Rules, Requests, and More! (Pt. 2)

"You sure Marc doesn't want to blow out candles too?" Y/N questions as she places two colorful candles in the shape of a 3 and 7 in the middle of a round chocolate cake, her eyes landing on the excited Brit sitting in front of the cake. "Cause you could blow out the three and he can get the seven or I can just get mo–"

Steven's soft dark eyes quickly glance at Gus's tank before replying. "Ah no," he begins, his lip twitching into a slight frown. "He says he's not much of a birthday guy anymore."

With a small nod, Y/N makes sure that all the presents are in place while Steven lights his candles. Sliding into an old wooden chair next to him, Y/N smiles softly at him as she says "Happy birthday love!"

After blowing out the candles, they happily dig in. "Wow this is amazing love," Steven hums.

"It's just from a box," Y/N shrugs. "I would have bought one from the store but it was too packed, I didn't have much time 'cause of work either," she scowls, eyeing the darkness pouring into the small apartment. "Save some for Marc!" Y/N cries as she watches Steven cut himself another big slice.

"They'll be plenty left," Steven replies, dumping the large slice onto his plate and spilling a few crumbs onto the table.

"Hurry up and eat then," Y/N sighs, pushing her mostly eaten cake slice away. "I've got to find your last gift anyways, just don't make yourself sick! I am not cleaning that up." The legs of the wooden chair noisily scrape against the wood floor as she slides out of her chair, a small groan escapes Y/N, her feet carrying them towards the small bathroom.

Giddiness beings to fill Y/N as she closes the door behind her. Immediately turning to the small sink and opening up the cabinet, Y/N bends down to sift through old cleaning bottles and stacks of toilet paper. After a few back-aching seconds, Y/N feels a grin creep onto her face as she grabs the small white test she was looking for.

She didn't have time to wrap it today, but Y/N hopes that the red bow that she slapped on it the other day is good enough. Making sure the small cap is on tightly, Y/N holds the smooth pregnancy test against her arm as she stands and makes her way to the bathroom door.

As Y/N steps out of Steven's small bathroom, she can hear him quietly talking with Marc but immediately stops when his gaze falls on her. "You ready?" Y/N asks with an innocent smile as Steven watches her closely.

"Oh, yes!" He says, instantly grabbing for a small orange box with his name scribbled on it. Setting the small test in her lap, Y/N gives Steven a small nod and watches him tear apart the delicate polka-dotted wrapping paper. "Oh wow," Steven's voice filled with amazing makes a smile grow on her face.

"I didn't know they made more of these!" Steven pushes the wrapping paper away to reveal a Rubix cube, only, it wasn't a cube but a triangle roughly the same size.

"Oh yeah, they make a whole bunch of them," Y/N beams, enjoying the large grin on Steven's face. "That one's called a Piramynx! I thought that you'd like a new challenge and honestly your other one looks like it'll break any minute now."

Steven snorts softly at ther words, his gaze fully set on the piramynx in his hands. "I wonder how this one works." He murmurs as he turns the box it came in. Y/N's gaze moves from Steven down to her lap, fiddling with the small test in her fingers, nervousness bubbling through her as she eyes down the two strong red lines.

The sound of ripping cardboard brings her gaze back up to Steven, who had begun to start playing with his new gift. "Steven?" Y/N chuckles, watching him immediately set the Rubix triangle-down. "I had one more gift for you, well you and Marc."

Immediately Steven's eyes flicker to the still wrapped gift next to him, but with a shake of her head Steven shoots her a confused look. Looking down at the small test in her lap, Y/N forces a small smile through her nervousness as she brings up the test to the table, sliding it towards Steven.

"You....are...sick?" Steven cocks his head as he gently holds the white test between his fingers. His head immediately whips towards Gus's tank, no doubt being scolded by Marc.

"I'm pregnant love," the whisper of those words makes Steven drop the test onto the table, his eyes blown wide as they fall on Y/N.

"You're what!" He squeaks, pushing away from the table, Steven stands to his feet as one of his hands runs through his dark curls. "A-are you being for real right now?"

"Yes!" Y/N giggles, sliding out of her own chair. "I am!"

"B-but how," Steven sputters. "Well, I know how but umm, but w-when?"

Slowly Y/N moves to grab Steven's hand, giving it a gentle squeeze before her gaze meets Steven's. "A week ago maybe? For the test at least, who knows when it actually happened..." Y/N tilts her head in thought. "Yeah, it must have been! I took at least three different tests last Saturday when you two were at work, you had come home so late that I thought I'd wait to surprise you today.....so surprise?"

"I–" Steven begins, his soft gaze glancing from Y/N's eyes to her belly. "I don't know what to say, love."

"Are you happy?"

"Of course," he sighs. "Of course I am, I just never would have thought this would happen!" A grin spreads across Steven's face as he meets Y/N's gaze. Immediately he scoops her up into a hug, squeezing her tightly until he quickly realizes he probably shouldn't.

"Oh, I'm sorry love!" He exclaims out of breath. "I just.....wow, me? A father? I can't believe it!"

"I know!" Y/N says with just as much giddiness in her voice as his. "What does Marc think of this?"

"Oh," Y/N's face falls slightly at the quietness in Steven's tone. "Nothing bad really, mainly 'cause he hadn't said anything besides calling me stupid for not realizing the kind of test that was."

Y/N subconsciously begins to chew her lip, she knew that Marc had parental issues but he never went on about them besides the quick "we just didn't get along."

A warm hand cupping her jaw makes Y/N jump, instantly she brings her hand to brush over Steven's. "I'm sure he is just as excited Y/N," he says with a reassuring smile, his other hand sliding onto her belly. "He just might need a minute or two to process the information."

"Right, no, umm," Y/N says, shaking the anxiety out of her. "You're probably right, it took me a day or so to wrap my head around it too. But I hope it was a good surprise though."

"It is indeed," Steven hums before placing a soft kiss on Y/N's forehead. "Now how 'bout we clean up the table and then throw a movie on eh?"

"Yeah that sounds great," Y/N nods as Steven's hands drop from her. As he turns toward the table to put the few pieces of cake that were left away, Y/N decides to throw away the torn wrapping paper, her eyes trying not to land on the untouched gift.

Her fingers slowly slide against the smooth metallic green paper, the gnawing anxious feeling returning to her as Y/N silently reads the scribbled name on the top of the gift. With a soft sigh, she sets it back down and tells herself not to worry.

Marc will be just as happy.

That small sentence plays in her head as Y/N wipes off the table with her hand, chewing on her lip as she reminds herself that it'll be fine. Steven's enthusiasm has to count for something right? Y/N turns to glance at Steven who was rocking on his feet as he cleans the plates they had used.

I need to stop worrying, Y/N's eyes fall back onto the old table. Marc wouldn't want me to worry anyway, too much stress for the baby he'd say.

Everything will be alright, he'd add.

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