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upsidedownwithsteve · 1 year

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Eddie Munson x fem!reader [6.2K] prompt: can I hold your hand? Shy Eddie, some yearning and fluff.

Eddie Munson wasn’t quiet. No.

He wasn’t reserved, he wasn’t timid, he certainly didn’t let anything or anyone make him shrink. He was bold, brash, loud, dramatic and awfully, awfully charming about it all. He liked to garner attention, he liked to flirt, he liked to make himself known.

No, Eddie Munson wasn’t shy by any means.

Apart from around you.

It started off subtle, little things that took you a while to cotton onto. On the days that Steve was busy, working overtime and unable to pick up Dustin and Mike from their club meetings, you’d linger outside the classroom door, listening to the pretty cadence of Eddie Munson’s dungeon master voice.

You liked the lilt of it, the way he drawled out his script, his low tone dropping to a whisper before bursting out with a plot twist, the sounds of hands slamming on desks and groans and whoops from his enchanted audience.

Then you heard the applause, the sounds of papers shuffling and chairs scraping against linoleum and you knocked once to be polite, opening the door to see the group of boys, and Erica, turning their heads to stare.

Dustin waved, Mike smiled, Erica popped her gum at you and Eddie Munson stopped mid speech, big, brown eyes wide and his mouth in a pretty, pouty ‘o’.

Silence fell over the hellfire table.

You smiled, bright and warm, waving back to Dustin as you watched the kids gather their bags, sliding in their character sheets and murmuring their goodbyes to their friends. Eddie was still staring.

The boy didn’t speak until you were ushering Mike out of the door, telling them that Lucas had finished basketball practice ten minutes ago and he’d be waiting by your car. Eddie cleared his throat as the room emptied, smiling shyly at you when you met his gaze, letting your eyes linger too long on his silver rings, the tattoos that peeled out from under his rolled sleeves, the curls that bounced in front of his pretty eyes.

“Hi,” his voice was so much softer than the boom you’d heard from underneath the door, the one that had spoken about dragons and monsters and warlocks. “You’re not Steve.”

You grinned, looking up at him with more flirt than you’d intended and you watched him swallow hard, take a little step back and breathe out a stuttering breath that you probably weren’t supposed to hear.

“I’m not,” you agreed, “Steve’s busy, got caught up at work but, uh, he said you wouldn’t mind if I gate crashed instead.”

Eddie mentally cursed out his friend, unable to stop himself from looking downdowndown until his gaze found your bare thighs, the pretty light green sundress that skimmed the tops of them, your too clean sneakers toeing at the floor by his boots.

Eddie Munson was fucking blushing.

“I, uh— sure, yeah,” the boy winced, nose scrunched, eyes closed ‘cause oh my god, what was wrong with him?

But you laughed and it was a sweet noise, the prettiest sound Eddie had ever heard and suddenly he didn’t know what to say but he knew he’d go home that night and remember the smell of your perfume, something sweet like coconut and summer.

But then Mike was shouting down the empty hall, Erica pulling at his bag as he complained and each huff echoed off of the locker lined walls and you were stepping backwards.

You raised a hand in a small wave, smiling at the boy until you had to turn around to see where you were going and Eddie immediately missed the sight of your face. You were almost at the doors, all the way at the other end of the hallway and the boy was still standing, jaw slack, lips parted and eyes shining, watching you walk.

And then as if he’d been hit over the back of the head, he snapped into action, voice breaking like a teenage boy as he called out.

“Hey! Shit, uh—” Eddie winced when you turned, lips pressed together so it didn’t look like you were laughing at him. You waited, patient. “I, uh, fuck… what’s your name? I didn’t get your name.”

You grinned then, wide and easily, hands clasped behind your back as you stood, the setting summer sun lighting you up from the open doors behind you. Eddie thought you looked like an angel.

You called back at the same volume, amusement and intrigue colouring your voice, telling the boy your name. You watched him mouth it back, trying out the syllables on his tongue, as if he was making sure it suited the shape of his lips. He must’ve decided it did, ‘cause he grinned, wide and pretty enough that you could see his dimples from even where you stood.

“I’m Eddie,” he told you, arms folded a little shyly, one hand reaching to pull at his curls, hiding his grin behind them.

Behind you, Dustin scrunched his features, bewildered. What was going on?

You smiled, ducked your head and nodded. You made sure you caught his stare as you looked straight at him, starting to back yourself towards the exit, the cool evening air hitting the tops of your thighs.

“I know,” you told him, and god, Eddie looked shell shocked.

—————

The second time you bumped into Eddie, it was at the grocery store and he knocked down an entire display of Campbell’s chicken noodle soup.

You were pushing a cart with your headphones on, wire tangled around your wrist as you shoved strawberries and cherries into the trolley, leaning against it until your skirt rode up too high and you were in danger of flashing the entire store.

You think that’s when it happened.

‘Cause you were straightening up to the tinny sounds of Joan Jett when you heard a dull crash behind you, the noise sounding far away from the way guitars and drums filled your ears. But you pulled away one speaker to look around, brows furrowed and lips parting at the sight of Eddie Munson staring at you from the midst of chaos.

Soup tins rolled down the aisle, some split open and creating a mess, puddles of noodles pooling at peoples feet. Steve Harrington was beside him, scolding the boy who wasn’t paying attention, a basket hanging from his arm. Mrs Collins, the town librarian, was scowling as she sidestepped a can or two, tutting at Eddie who was still standing there, motionless.

You found his gaze, lifted a hand in greeting and smiled.

It was awfully lovely the way he turned pink for you, cheeks flushed, eyes wide and doe like, blinking slowly as you moved towards him. The mess in the tiles and the tired store attendant with the mop stopped you from getting too close, but you grinned all the same.

“Harrington,” you greeted first, familiar and warm.

Steve huffed out a laugh at the way Eddie was staring, already well versed in the way the boy reacted to you, hearing all about your first meeting from Dustin who told him animatedly about how Eddie freaked out when he first saw you.

Now, with chicken soup at his feet and a fumbling Eddie by his side, he was starting to think the younger boy hadn’t exaggerated all that much. So Steve grinned and greeted you in a similar fashion, nudging Eddie not so subtly to get him to say hi too.

It was like Eddie suddenly realised what had happened and he blinked at the mess around him, toeing at a rogue can, sending it rolling down the other end of the store. The store assistant sighed and walked off with his mop but Eddie couldn’t really find it in himself to apologise, not right then, not he his throat felt too tight and his face was hot and you looked so pretty.

“H-hi,” Eddie managed, hands shoved deep into his jeans pockets so he wouldn’t do anything else stupid, like take down the Gatorade stack.

“Causing trouble?” You grinned, stepping over a cream coloured puddle to gain some closeness, skirting around Eddie to avoid stepping into the mess. You left your cart sitting, played pretend and made out as if you really wanted that bag of trail mix that sat on the shelf behind the boy.

“Us?” Steve smirked, “never. Just… some of us are easily distracted, it would seem.”

Eddie let out a strangled noise, chin tucking down to hide his pink cheeks. He could feel the warmth from them, the same way he could feel your eyes on him.

He didn’t say anything, he couldn’t say anything. Eddie wanted to hit Steve, a good, solid thump to the stomach because he felt like he was dying. He’d never felt that way before, so unbelievably shy and self conscious, unsure where to look, his stomach tumbling, his heart racing. It was wonderfully terrifying, made even worse by the way you looked, too pretty in another sundress - red this time - headphones blaring music he liked, dainty gold rings adorning almost all of your fingers.

“We’re actually just grabbing some snacks,” Steve went on. “Movie night at Robin’s, d’you wanna join us?”

Eddie took it back, he didn’t wanna hit Steve, Eddie loved Steve. He held his breath as he finally looked at you, electricity buzzing over his skin when he realised you were already looking at him, a small smile on your face as you stood with one hip popped, the bracelets on your wrist singing as you swung your unwanted bag of trail mix.

You pouted, genuinely disappointed that you had to say, “I’d love to but unfortunately I already have plans, thanks though.”

With another boy? Eddie wanted to ask. Did you have a boyfriend? A date? A girlfriend? Both? His head was swimming.

Steve tsked, feigning dramatic disappointment to get you to smile and it worked and Eddie hated it. That’s something he would’ve normally done, a whole thing of clutching his heart as if you’d broken it with your soft rejection, anything to get you to smile at him like that.

“Another time, then,” Steve told you and he slapped Eddie’s shoulder, a hand on leather. “Eddie’s hosting next week, horror night at his place. You should swing by, make sure he doesn’t scare himself stupid.”

You let out a soft laugh and Eddie swore he felt himself melt. He matched the sound, albeit a little more nervous than you, nose scrunching because he didn’t know what to say.

Steve was starting to think he was playing wingman for a boy who'd forgotten how to function.

“D’you need someone to hold your hand, Eddie?” You teased gently and the irony wasn’t lost on you because the boy was so much taller and wilder looking than you were, all leather and silver chains to your floaty, short dresses and his T-shirt today had a sun bleached print of Chucky on it.

Eddie stumbled and stammered and after a swift pinch to his ribs from Steve he nodded, heart stuttering and stalling when you grinned wide and bright. Oh, holy shit.

You turned then, stepping back over the wet tiles and grabbing your cart, dumping in the bag of nuts and dried fruit with a small laugh only you could hear before turning to wave at the two boys.

“I’ll see you both next week then,” you confirmed. You made sure to smile right at Eddie, not missing the way his gaze skimmed over all of you, the highs of his cheeks flushed. “You know, just to make sure Eddie’s looked after.”

And then you winked.

You’d barely disappeared around the end of the aisle before Eddie groaned out loud and clutched at Steve’s t-shirt, trying his hardest not to drop to his goddamn knees in the middle of the grocery store.

“What the fuck was that?” Steve choked out, holding back the laugh he wanted to release since Eddie first went into the tower of cans. “Where did your social skills go, hot shot?”

Eddie just shrugged, his head resting on his friend's shoulder. “I think I’m in love,” he replied mournfully.

—————

Low and behold, you actually did come to the next movie night.

Steve didn’t tell Eddie until the darker haired boy was setting up the movie, glancing at the time on the VCR and looking back at him questioningly.

“Where’s Nancy and Jonathan? They’re never fuckin’ late.”

Robin was already sprawled out on the sofa, legs pushed underneath the pillow from Eddie’s bed that she had a habit of stealing. He missed the way she smirked, the way her eyes flickered to Steve’s and how they shared a look.

But Steve didn’t miss a beat, sounding cool, calm and completely normal when he replied, “oh, they’re picking up your friend.”

Now, Eddie wasn’t Hawkins' most popular guy. In fact, he could count on two hands the friends he had that were over the age of eighteen and most of them were already here.

From the floor below Robin, busying themselves with the pizza boxes, Gareth and Jeff were laughing, eyes on food as they ignored Eddie’s glare. He looked panicked.

And when he caught Steve’s eye and he watched how his friend smirked and shrugged, Eddie knew exactly who he was referring to.

He whispered your name, each letter of it getting stuck in his throat and god, was he sweating? He felt too warm. “She’s coming? She’s coming here? Now?”

No one had a chance to respond before Eddie was on his feet, spinning in a circle, once, twice, before he made a noise that nobody could really discern. And then he was off, video tape only half way into the machine and the other movie boxes littering the living room floor, but Eddie didn’t seem to care as he disappeared into his room.

There was a thump, a thud, a curse and what sounded awfully like a quick prayer.

“Eds?” Robin called out from the couch. She looked concerned. “You okay?”

The girl only received a yelp in response and when Eddie reappeared he was in different clothes, his shorts swapped for cotton sweatpants, grey and almost new looking, free of ink stains. And his new shirt didn’t have any holes in the collar and the band logo on the front was less faded than his other choices.

If he was breathing funny, nobody decided to comment on it.

Eddie was combing his fingers through his curls, grunting at each tug whilst he kicked stray guitar picks and old notebooks under the sofa, pulling at Robin’s leg until she fell off with a whine, fluffing up the cushions she’d squished.

Steve was staring, Gareth was confused and suddenly, there were tires on gravel and the groan of Jonathan’s unreliable car engine.

“Oh my god,” Eddie whispered.

And then you were in his trailer, walking in behind Nancy with a four pack of Eddie’s favourite beer in one hand and a bag of gummy bears in the other. You were in another dress, Eddie immediately noticed, a longer one this time, the black button down material reaching your ankles and when you moved, there was a split up the side that showed a ridiculous amount of leg.

“Oh my fucking god,” Eddie mouthed again, staring at Steve with wide eyes before watching how you moved so easily into his small kitchen, smiling at Nancy when the girl showed you where to place the stuff you’d brought.

You were in front of him as the room buzzed with conversation and semi serious arguments about pizza toppings and snack choices, Jonathan taking over VCR duties as he knelt in front of the television. Everyone was decidedly not looking at you and Eddie.

You smiled, that same lovely smile you always seemed to save for him and Eddie huffed out a nervous breath.

“Hey,” you greeted softly, holding out the pack of beers, giving them a little wiggle. “Nancy said you liked this kind.”

“Oh, you didn’t have to,” Eddie exclaimed, but he took the bottles from your hands, cheeks pink when your fingers brushed and suddenly the trailer had never been smaller and he swore all he could smell was your perfume. “But, uh, thank you. Can I get you a drink?”

And then just like that, the lights were off and everyone was squished onto the sofas and armchairs, pizza boxes on the floor and everyone had glass of something fizzy or alcohol. The room smelled like popcorn, the TV buzzed with static and everyone eventually settled when the opening credits for Poltergeist started to play.

Eddie really wasn’t sure how it happened, how you managed to end up next to him, both of you in the armchair that usually only sat one person, but the boy was certain it had something to do with Steve jostling and a Robin insisting there was absolutely no room elsewhere.

Eddie felt like he couldn’t breathe, he could feel you against him, all soft curves and softer skin, thigh pressed to his and you slipped your sneakers off and tucked your legs into your chest. Eddie’s curls tickled your neck and you smell his cologne, peppery and woodsy, smoke and something sweet and god, he was looking at you with eyes that were big and bright, even in the low light of the TV.

He was chewing on his bottom lip, gaze barely focusing and when you shifted slightly and your dress fell open a little, exposing the length of your calf and your knee, Eddie let out a choked sound and tried not to stare. But then the clown was putting his arms around little Robbie’s neck and pulling him under the bed and it seemed like the perfect excuse to move a little closer and hold out your hand, palm up.

“Can I hold your hand?” You whispered to the boy, so close that your nose brushed his shoulder. You smiled when you heard his breath hitch, wiggling your fingers once, twice as Eddie looked down at the way your rings glinted, gold to his silver. “I forgot how creepy this movie is.”

It took the boy a second and he could’ve sworn he had a full audience of friends staring at him in the dark, but he smiled soft when he brought his hand to yours, marvelling at the size difference when you pushed your fingers between his. He sat for the rest of the night like that, your joined hands resting against your knees and Eddie didn’t have any concept of time or reality.

All he knew was you, the touch of you, the smell of you, the solid, warm weight of you leaning into his side in the dark and god, his stomach flipped and his heart raced when you played with his fingers, toyed with each of his rings, spinning the metal around each digit.

It felt like he was free falling, head spinning, chest aching. And then the movie was over and someone flicked the lights on and you stopped touching him - it was awful, the way you let go of his hand, but you were looking over at him with the sweetest kind of smile and suddenly Eddie didn’t want to ever be away from you, heart palpitations be damned.

—————

Eddie hadn’t been working in the record store all that long. But he enjoyed the calm, the low lights, the way he got to choose the music. He especially liked the way you dropped in from time to time, leaning over the counter to invade his space, perfume and the smell of sunscreen taking over everything.

He never got much done during those shifts, the usual customers going mostly ignored as you hopped onto the cash desk, dress hiked, legs swinging, smiling just for him. Eddie had gotten a little more used to your presence, the way you liked to lean into him, the way you liked to brush a hand over his arm when he listened to you talk.

You liked the way he still went pink for you, pretty lips parting when you traced a finger over the tattoos you were sometimes lucky to see peeking out from under his shirt sleeves. And when the day turned to evening and you were still there, keeping him company through a slow, slow day, Eddie got brave and leaned in close to where you sat, forearms brushing against your thighs and you hummed thoughtfully at the close contact.

You reached for a pen, a black biro that you twirled between finger and thumb and you tapped at Eddie’s wrist, grinning when he looked at you raised brows.

“Can I help you?” He murmured.

“Maybe,” you replied sweetly. “Gimme.”

You wiggled your fingers at his arm, pulling at his hand until he relented (easily and quickly) letting you rest it in your lap. Eddie swallowed hard, a small noise coming from his throat that he quickly coughed away, trying his best to ignore how his arm was touching your bare thigh.

You seemed to favour dresses around him, any length, all colours but always pretty and this one was short and tight at your waist, flaring out with cute little daisies adorning the fabric.

Eddie couldn’t take his eyes off of it.

“What’re you up to, trouble?”

The nickname was still fairly new and it felt soft and sweet on Eddie’s tongue and the boy loved how it made you grin, preening a little as if it was the highest compliment he could give you. Maybe it was; a true testament to the havoc you played on his heart rate.

“Giving you a new tattoo, Teddy.”

That nickname was new too. It started out as a tease, a joke when he’d appeared at the diner one night late, the rest of the party half way through their burgers ‘cause Eddie had had a nap that turned into a small coma. His curls had still been messy and sleep mussed, his usual leather jacket replaced with a hoodie that was too large and awfully soft looking, a tan colour that made his eyes look like sticky honey.

And thus, Teddy slipped from your lips over strawberry milkshakes and as the rest of the group howled with laughter, the boy in question turned the prettiest shade of pink. But his boots knocked against your sneakers under the table and when he looked at you with a smile that was all bitten lips and dimpled cheeks, you knew he really didn’t mind it at all.

It still made him blush though, especially when you called him it all alone. ‘Cause you said it in a voice that was so much softer and sweeter, like you were saying it just for him.

Eddie stayed impossibly still, more still than he’d ever been, just for you. You’d pulled him even closer, heads bent together, his curls brushing at your cheek as you carefully drew out your design. Eddie hugged out a quiet laugh when he realised what you were doodling, the dark, thin lines tickling at the inside of his forearm.

But let you keep going, lips twisted into a fond smile and he wondered how he could keep the pen marks there forever, whilst simultaneously planning all the ways he could hide it from Steve and the other guys. They all laughed at Eddie when it came to you; the way you could make him flush, the way you could calm him down and make him softer and quieter. They all told Eddie he was whipped and well, the boy never argued.

“There,” you whispered and Eddie could hear the smile in your voice despite the way he couldn’t see your face from the way you were still curled into him. “All done.”

You moved back, only slightly, back straightening and bracelets jingling as you took Eddie’s hand in your own and moved his arm under one of the dim lights. The little black lined teddy bear shone a little wetly under the glow, floppy limbed and one ear a little smaller than the other.

You grinned, no, you beamed and Eddie’s heart stuttered and stopped at the sight. Your touch was so warm, hot against his skin and the boy was so sure that he’d never, ever get used to it.

He grinned, tucking his lips between his teeth to try and control it, all flushed and pretty in the way he lit up for you. He knocked his shoulder to yours, curls tickling your bare shoulders.

“Well shit, sweetheart,” Eddie whispered. “If that isn’t my new favourite tattoo.”

—————

It had been well over a month and Eddie Munson still hadn’t kissed you.

You didn’t want to sound dramatic, but it was really ruining your life. Maybe not ruining it, but it was definitely making things difficult. ‘Cause more often than not, you spent time with Eddie alone and the boy still blushed when you smiled at him, tripped over his own feet when you let your dresses stretch up too high on your thighs and god, god, he let his gaze roam everywhere when he thought you weren’t looking.

The air was a little thicker, heavier, warmer, when Eddie Munson was around.

And now, you were in his bedroom, somewhere you’d started spending more and more time in. It had become easier to slip your shoes off and laze on his bed, always on top of the sheets and you always had to pay the space beside you before Eddie let himself fall down onto the mattress too.

Music was playing, soft and fuzzy with static ‘cause the summer outside was a little too hot and the heat was fucking with the generator. Eddie was sprawled out beside you, his white t-shirt so threadbare and stretched out you could see the ink on his chest underneath. The day was warm enough for Eddie to pull his hair back, messy curls pulled into a haphazard bun, loose strands falling into his eyes as he pulled his rolling tray towards him.

He was too busy licking a neat stripe along the paper to notice the way you were pushing yourself to your knees, head tilted to the side as you carefully studied the boy. He was painfully pretty, soft eyes, softer lips and all strong lines along his jaw, his nose, the slant of his high cheekbones.

If you wanted to do this, you were going to have to do it soon. ‘Cause you wanted to be sober for this, Eddie too, and the boy was ready to slip the joint between his lips to light it and pass it to you.

So you cleared your throat and tried not to fall off the bed when Eddie’s head shot up and he gasped at how close you were. The joint fell to the bed, forgotten and Eddie blinked, lips parted as he tried to not freak the fuck out.

You had a new dress on, white with tiny cherries printed all over it, thin straps holding it up and Eddie had groaned at the sight of it when you first appeared at the van door.

You were so, so close. You could count the freckles on Eddie’s cheeks, the tiny ones that dotted across the bridge of his nose and the more you looked, the more the boy blushed. You watched his skin turn rosy, brown eyes blinking at you, messy curls slipping out of the purple hair tie he most definitely stole from your wrist last week.

“Wha—?”

“Can I kiss you?”

Silence. Shock and silence and awe and a painfully long pause. Eddie wondered if his heart was still beating.

You sighed, pushed yourself a little closer still, knees pressed the mattress and when Eddie didn’t pull away, you let your hands rest on his knees and your gaze met his.

“Do you not want to kiss me?” You asked and you were surprised at how brave you sounded, not a hint of shyness left in your voice and maybe that’s because you’d been so fucking sure that Eddie liked you.

Like, liked you, liked you.

Steve had said so. So had Dustin. Even Robin winked and smirked at you when Eddie entered the room.

“It’s okay if you don’t,” you assured him softly, lip tucked between your teeth. You bit down on the skin there and huffed out a breath when Eddie’s gaze zeroed in on the way your tongue peeked out afterwards to soothe the sting. “I just— I just thought you wanted to.”

Eddie didn’t say anything, he just gasped at you for a second or two - although it felt like hours - pink lips pouted and his jaw slack. He looked too pretty; genuinely, heartbreakingly pretty, with his tied up curls and flushed cheeks and the stretched out collar of his shirt that showed of skin and ink and freckles—

“I do, fuck, no, yeah— I do.”

The rejection that was curling into your stomach retreated and your head snapped back up. You stared at him, replaying his stuttering, stumbling words and you watched as the boy sucked in a deep, ragged breath. Then his wide hand was cupping your cheek, guitar string callouses rough against your jaw, fingers slipping your hair and he was pulling you forward as he moved in andandand—

The bed protested under your knees and Eddie’s, both of you colliding in the softest way possible. You met in the middle, you a little taller than the boy, ‘cause at the eleventh hour you’d gotten too impatient and pushed yourself up so you could grab at his face too.

He was rough stubble underneath your palms, pliant for you, willing to go wherever you moved him to and he titled his head when you moved in and down, cheeks a pretty rose colour and his eyes fluttered shut when your lips touched his.

Eddie was hesitant at first, just for a second or two, both of you adjusting to the feel of a new mouth against your own. But his lips were warm and soft and they tasted like smoke and the lemonade he’d been drinking, tart and sweet and like the summer outside.

And you pushed yourself against him a little bit harder, one thumb stroking over the apple of a cheek and you let your bottom lip slip between his own. Eddie groaned then, a wicked sound, dirty and low and you felt it vibrate through his chest and yours. It made you squeeze your eyes shut a little tighter, made your breath catch in your throat and want to test the waters a little more.

You let your tongue peek out, a slow, soft slide against the seam of his lips and he parted then for you with another pretty sound, a whimper that had your toes curling and without much warning, his hand dropped from your jaw to catch at your waist and you were being tugged onto his lap.

You knew your dress was hitched up a little too high to be decent, but you didn’t really care. You gasped out at the contact, Eddie’s fingers gripping you on the edge of too tight, your legs splayed out over his thighs as he kissed you back with so much wanting that you thought you’d cry.

It turned a little messy, a little desperate, tongues sliding, lips parted over each other as you both made dirty, little sounds they had both of your hips rocking towards each other. Your hands grabbed at the back of the boy's head and you whined at the curls that were tied away from your fingers, so you scratched at the nape of his neck instead, almost - almost - too rough, making the boy shudder and groan underneath you.

And when you both pulled away for air, Eddie was all shades of pink, flushed cheeks, lips kiss bitten and rosy, pouty and a little swollen from where you’d been loving on him. His eyes were glassy, glazed over, jaw slack and the muscle there ticked once, twice when you pushed yourself further into his lap. His hands flew to your thighs, bare and almost too exposed, fingers curling around the doughy skin and you weren’t sure if he wanted you to stop or keep going.

You were both panting, chests heaving and everything glittered now that Eddie Munson had finally kissed you. Dust motes sparkled in the sunlight that came through the gap in the curtains, the shades drawn to trap out the heat but my god, you were burning.

And it was like you couldn’t help yourself, couldn’t keep your lips off of him now that you’d started and you leaned back in, hearing the way his breath caught in his throat. It made you feel bold, powerful, reckless, it made you feel absolutely fucking wrecked.

You mouthed over his jawline, the sharp line of it covered by a rough stubble that hadn’t really been there that morning and Eddie moaned for you when you hit a little spot underneath his ear. You grinned, smiled against his skin and took the lobe between your teeth and nipped gently, sucked at it until he was fully shivering underneath you, grabbing at your thighs until you knew you’d have crescent moon shaped marks the next day.

“Is that okay?” You asked him, voice impossibly soft, almost a little husky from the way he’d kissed you. “This alright, Teddy?”

His eyes almost rolled at the pet name, he couldn’t handle the sweetness of it, not with you in his lap with your pretty dress rucked up all indecently, your lips ghosting along the shell of his ear.

But he nodded, weak, holding on for dear life when you sighed all prettily and kept up your touch. You kissed a line along his neck, mouthing and sucking at the strong column of his throat as his Adam’s apple bobbed under your lips. You kissed a bruise into the crook, where his neck met his shoulder and you sucked and bit down until it was the prettiest shade of lavender you’d ever seen.

When you pulled back, Eddie’s eyes were closed, lips parted and breath coming out in harsh pants. It was almost unfair and you could feel him underneath you, impossibly hard, thick and twitching every time you moved against him.

So you slowed it all down, softened yourself, your kisses a little sweeter as you peppered them across his face. His cheeks, the tip of his nose, the soft skin of his eyelids, bottom lip sweeping over his lashes. You kissed the corner of his mouth, his chin, his forehead and onto his hairline, messy curls tickling your cheek.

And the whole time you whispered to him, soft, pretty words that had him sighing and gasping with each touch of your lips. It was all too good, too much, too nice and Eddie wasn’t sure what this meant yet but he never wanted it to fucking end.

“So pretty, Teddy,” your hand dragged down the length of his bicep, lithe muscles wrapped underneath ink and soft skin. “You’re just so pretty, y’know that?” Your thumb swept over the faded outline of the bear drawing you’d penned on him a week or two before and you smiled, tucked your face into his neck.

“So pretty when you blush for me,” you whispered and god, Eddie was trying his best not to lose it. “All pink ‘n cute.”

You held his chin in your grasp, finger and thumb pressed gently there to bring his mouth back to yours and he complied happily. He sighed into you, sweet kisses turning into another slow, lazy make out session, the dirty flick of his tongue against yours making you squeeze your thighs over his.

“Shy boy,” you murmured against his lips. “Or so I thought,” you hugged out a laugh when one brave hand moved from your thigh to your hip, brushing the curve of your ass underneath the fabric of your dress.

“You’re gonna kill me,” Eddie groaned, forehead falling to rest against yours. “Babe, baby—”

You whined at that, let him push his mouth back to yours so he could kiss you again and it went on like that all afternoon, until the blue sky turned into a deep violet, until the stars blinked and Eddie had you pressed into his pillows, kissing his own line down your throat. It was dizzying, the way he nudged the strap of your dress out of his way with his nose, hands never leaving your sides, your hips, the dough of your ass.

And when it all got too much and you both got too close to going too far, too quick, you slowed it back down with soft kisses and lazy touches. You were nose to nose on his messy bed, one of your legs hitched over his hip as he held you close and you were smiling, cheeks sore, eyes bright kinda smile.

“Shy boy,” you told him again, nose scrunching when Eddie grinned at you and kissed it. He was still the prettiest shade of pink, but god, you’d never get tired of it. “My boy.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson blurb #UDWS10K

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fruity-mega-coconut69 · 1 year

Text

A Tiny Little Secret Pt. II

[pairings]: Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader

[Summary]: Sam invites you for a talk that turns into and argument, but it gets solved by the wonderful Anika.

[warnings]: Swearing, mentions of murder

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The next day you are in your single dorm room, a bottle of beer in your hand as you are sitting next to an opened window with a cigarette in your other hand. You lift the bottle up to your lips to take a sip when suddenly, your phone rings.

Your eyebrows furrow as you put the bottle down and take your phone into your hand. The caller ID reads, ‘ Tara ❤’. You pick up the call and put your phone to your ear. “ Tara? “

“Y/N, hi. I just wanted to say that……uh, Sam wants you to come over. To talk about yesterday. “

You could hear in her voice that she was annoyed by the whole situation. You purse your lips and look down at your lap. You sighed.

“Alright, I’ll be there in 15 “ You mumbled into your phone as you put out the cigarette. You were honestly kind of scared of Sam. You knew you had to be on your best behavior when you got there. Which means, no cigarettes, no smelling like alcohol or being high.

“Okay. See you, stranger “ You knew she was smiling by her tone and you smiled brightly at the thought of her eyes shining while she was doing so. You hung up and got up from your chair. You walked to your closet and opened it. You searched through your clothes ‘till you found what you were looking for. Tara’s oversized hoodie that you ‘borrowed’ from her. You chuckle lightly and put it on. Although it does not smell like her anymore, it was still comfy.

You put on a pair of sweatpants and go to your bathroom. You brush your hair and go back to your room, putting on your shoes and picking up your bag and phone. You grab a piece of gum from your desk and put it in your mouth. You walk towards the door and open it. You walk down the long hallways of your college.

You arrive at the main entrance and open the doors to reveal a bunch of students sitting around in the grass. You walk towards the parking lot where you had parked your car. A black Mercedes-Benz W 113. It was your uncle’s before he decided to let go of it; saying that it was a complete wreck. But you wouldn’t let it go. You and him used to ride around in it a lot so you grew attached. You took it under your wing and quickly repaired it.

Anyway, you got into your car and started the engine. You got out of the parking lot. Soon you were at the apartment and you knocked on the door and - to your surprise- Mindy opened it.

“O-Oh, hi. Tara called, said Sam wanted to talk? “ You swallowed hard as she looked you up and down with her judging eyes. She nodded and let you in.

“ Tara! Your girlfriend’s here! “ She shouted and soon Tara ran out of her room and hugged you.

“Hey. “ Said Tara as she held your face in her hands. “ I missed you '' She leaned in to kiss you before you were interrupted by a loud, rough voice.

“ You just saw her yesterday, jesus. “ Sam rolled her eyes as you and Tara let go of each other and looked around to find their friends staring at you guys, well mainly you. You averted your gaze to the floor.

You heard Tara sigh beside you as she put a comforting arm around your back. “Just let’s get this over with. “ Sam nodded and signaled for the others to follow her. You soon found yourself at their dining table. Staring ahead, waiting for someone to say something.

“ So, “ Started Sam. “ You two are…..together? “ She basically spat.

“ Yes, but I think we have already established that, don’t you think? “ Said Tara. You looked up to find the Carpenter sister’s glaring at each other while their friends glared at you. “ Look, me and Y/N love each other and we make each other happy! What is your problem with that?!”

“ My fucking problem is that, her father is in jail for murder! For fuck’s sake Tara she could kill us! “ Sam yelled at her sister. You flinched at the mention of your father, for a brief moment you see Tara looking at you from the corner of her eye then look back at Sam.

“ You don’t know what the fuck you are talking about ! “ She yelled back. “ She would never do any of the things her father did! “ She was about to say something else, when Anika spoke up.

“ Alright, people! Stop it. Right now! This is stupid. I know we all don’t like Y/N. Like at all “ She said as she looked around at everyone nodding their heads- expect you and Tara- at what she had said. She then looked at Tara. “ But we love Tara, right? “ Everyone nodded again. “ Then, the least we can do is try for her. Try to get to know Y/n better. “ There was a long minute of silence, what broke it was a phone notification sound. Everyone searched for their phones, but it wasn't theirs . It was yours. You looked down at it to see a text from your Mom.

‘ Hey, sweetie. I’m home. I’m going to bring some of the stuff i brought from your grandparents’ place by your dorm tomorrow. Stay safe, love you. ‘

You nodded at your text then looked up to see everyone staring at you. What is it with everyone staring at me today? You thought as you looked back at them. You finally spoke since this whole thing started. “ Uhm, I-It was my mom. Nothing interesting. “

“ Anyway,Tara “ Anika looks at her as she pauses. “ Do you really care about and love her? “ Tara nodded and looked at you then took your hand in hers and gave it a slight squeeze.

“ Well then, I guess we can try. Can’t we? “ She looked at the others as they hesitantly nodded their heads. Expect one person, Sam.

“ Nope. Still don’t trust her with my sister. “ Sam said and shook her head then looked at you.

“ Oh, come on! “ Exclaimed Tara as she threw her hands up in the air in disbelief.

“I-I-....we- I can come over only when you are here. And we will be in the living room? “ You spoke with a noticeable amount of fear in your voice as you looked the older Carpenter sister in the eye. Sam ran her hands over her face then sighed.

“I-..Okay. But if I see the two of you making out on the couch again. I am throwing Y/N out “ Tara smiled as she turned to you and hugged you tightly. You laughed into her shoulder as you buried your face into it.

“Fucking finally! “ Shouted Chad. “ I was literally dying over here. This was, in-fact stupid, but whatever. “ He started walking away but then turned around. “ And if you hurt her? We are going to hunt you down and kill you. “ You nodded slowly as you pulled away from Tara.

“Come on, I'll walk you to the door. “ Tara got up and held out her hand for you to take. You did and stood up. You guys started walking towards the door and when you arrived you opened it, but Tara grabbed your wrist. You turned around in confusion. She smirked as she looked to the side to see the others looking. She pulled you in and kissed you softly. You pull back and smile at her. “ I love you. Y/N “

“ I…” You paused as you saw the others still looking. You looked at Tara awkwardly. “ Love you too? No,no, wait. Let me start again. “ She giggled at your silliness and nodded.

“ I love you too, Tara Carpenter. “

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A/N: goddamn it, it's short again. Plus a shitty ending.

#tara carpenter #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x fem reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #scream vi #scream

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satorhime · 2 years

Text

˚‧ ✰ ˓ ˖ SECRET-GO-ROUND | ˚｡ nanami kento x female reader ᨀ minors do not interact˓˓WORD COUNT ᨀ 7.8k˓˓ furueru kuchibiru!retelling, college!au, professor!nanami, uni student!reader, bratty!reader, age gap (nanami is in mid/late 30s, reader is in 20s), teacher-student relationships, carnival dates, a sprinkle of fluff 'n' angst, public sex, unprotected sex, blowjobs, exhibitionism, praise kink, quickie on a ferris wheel, creampies, money shots, sensei kink, anal play, fingering, degradation + reader is a lil manipulative. @SYNOPSIS ᨀ kento is in a secret relationship with his student, but when he loses a bet to her, he has to take her on their first date in public. @SATORHIME SAID ᨀ this is my first long fic since the spring and i'm so excited for u to read it !! (/ε＼*) i hope u babies enjoy this nasty lil piece i cooked up in my candy store MWAH !!

nanami kento is a hypocrite.

he demands professionalism and punctuality from his students and he does not believe in making mistakes that can be avoided in life. his entire day would be ruined if he walked down a sidewalk and stepped in chewing gum when he could have taken the train, yet he detests tardiness. he grimaces at late assignments, typos in emails, and clucks his tongue at mispronounced words during oral presentations, even though, out of every faculty member and student at the university, he may be the one making the biggest mistake of them all.

it's surprising because nanami conforms to the standard. he studied law because he respected the structure of rules and resonated with upholding order and justice. he takes the moral high ground above his immature colleagues who refuse to grow up even though they're well past the age of thirty. much to nanami's delight, they stopped inviting him out on weekends because he couldn't stop sneering in disgust at their conversation, threatening to report toji, satoru, and suguru after they attempted to coax him into their long running competition of letting their good looks and expensive doctorates seduce starry-eyed students into fucking them for sport; tallying up each other's scores from their game like athletes every monday morning.

but yes, nanami kento is still a hypocrite.

because he is the only one with a student walking around his apartment half-naked right now.

of course, nanami knows better than that. he barely dated through his long years of school, too focused on hanging up degree after degree in his parents’ living room to have time for anything more than a couple of flings and failed dates. and now four years into his tenure, a brilliant professor with a heap of accolades under his designer belt, he fell in love with you, his pretty little student.

he doesn’t know how it happened when the two of you are complete opposites— nanami is a jaded homebody that rejects human interaction and you are a firecracker full of energy in constant need of his attention. it wasn't even supposed to happen, but it's been a downward spiral of forbidden feelings since that one fucking evening you stayed behind after class to discuss your law research paper with him. you'd ended up hitting it off— you found nanami handsome, confident, and easy to talk to. confiding in him about your worries over getting good grades and making your family proud, and somehow that conversation ended with you being fucked over his desk for the first time. in truth, he had expected you to have your fill of a fantasy you wanted to play out and skip onto the next after that, but you didn’t seem to care about any of the other boys who looked at you around campus.

instead, you were satisfied with wriggling your way into his heart, one swish of your plush hips at a time.

you’ve wriggled your way into his home as well, peeking your head curiously into his bedroom now. you find nanami still asleep on his back— his legs tangled in the bamboo sheets and one muscled arm thrown across his handsome features, shielding his eyes from the light beams. your eyes rove over his shirtless form, the morning sun illuminating the chiseled grooves of his toned abs— catching onto the fine dusting of golden hairs over his adonis belt. though he ignores the silly effect he has on you and the other students, your professor is easily the most beautiful man on campus and you could stare at him all day.

but not right now. a pout shapes your lips in disappointment because you rarely see nanami anymore. he’s busier than ever now between classes starting back up at the university, the cases he handles at the firm, and writing his faculty book. today is the first day he’s been free in almost a month, and he plans on sleeping the entire day away? that won’t do.

you tiptoe into the room, crawling onto the pillowy mattress to straddle nanami’s narrow hips. the warm weight rouses him, but his eyes remained shut, a soft groan rumbling behind his ribcage.

“it’s too early for you to be in my lap, little love,” his voice is rough and syrupy with sleep, making you suck your bottom lip into your mouth at the sound of it— but you’re determined not to let his attractiveness ruin your plan for the day. “come on, get off.”

“well, it’s too late for you to still be in bed, damn it,” you huff, peeling his arm away from his face to cup his cheeks. you watch as horizontal lines appear in his forehead, and you hurry to continue, “today is your day off, kento-sensei. i was thinking.. maybe- let’s go out on a date!”

nanami’s café au lait eyes flicker open with a speed that startles you, fixed on your pretty face. you’re wearing his shirt and there’s a pillow mark on your cheek, hair messy from sleep. he feels his chest cave in because there’s nothing he wants more than to take you out to see the world and share your beauty with it. instead, a weary sigh exhales from his nostrils and it sounds like a declination.

“you’re going to say no, aren’t you?”

“yes, you know that we cannot be seen together. what will you do if someone recognizes one of us?”

“we’re a couple, aren’t we? why are you always so worried about someone seeing us. c’mon, kento-sensei- i want to go to the carnival that's in town. we can even wear disguises!” you try reasoning with him melodramatically, but kento simply shakes his head at your antics.

“i’m sorry, love, but there is too much at stake, for the both of us,” nanami says, squeezing your hip in apology. you frown— you hate being coddled by him.

“too much at stake? like your tenure? is that really the most important thing to you?”

“i won’t have this conversation again,” he clips sternly, propping his torso up on one elbow to narrow his sharp eyes at you. “when your classmates start rumors about you fucking me for extra credit, will going out on a date really be worth that? i’m thinking about your reputation, not mine.”

“i don’t want you to think of my reputation, i want you to treat me like your woman,” you roll your eyes. it’s always the same argument. while nanami is content to hide your relationship in shaded alcoves and apartments with the curtains drawn, you want to love him openly. to run errands with him and sit in sunny windows at cute little cafés with him— to not have to lie at sleepovers with your friends when they ask who is the one who is making you so happy.

nanami’s silence is degrading, frustration simmering up in your chest. a deeper frown twists your features as you reach for a fluffy feather pillow, gripping both ends and swinging it down— aiming right for nanami’s head.

he knocks the pillow away easily, unamused. “what are you, an infant?”

“argh, you’re so annoying. fine then, have it your way!” you grumble, but then your big doe eyes glint mischievousness in them. nanami can only watch with a lifted brow as you reach for the buttons of your (his) shirt, unbuttoning them quickly with trembling hands. your heart picks up to thump excitedly as you slip one side of the shirt apart, letting the fabric pool in the crook of your elbow— revealing pebbled nipples to your professor’s confused eyes. you gently cup one of your breasts teasingly, a minx. “let’s do it this way instead.”

“and what way is that? are you trying to bribe me, young lady?” he snorts, but his eyes flicker down to the soft swell of your breasts, the knot in his throat bobbing as he swallows.

you nibble your lip as you sit on your knees between his legs to paw the sheets covering his hips out of the way.

“obviously my bribery’s working since you’re already hard,” you tease in a saccharinely sweet voice. kento prefers sleeping in expensive silks with nothing underneath so your eyes are immediately drawn to the very visible print of his erection. you cup the bulge of his cock gently, palming it against your hand— little cunt pulsing greedily as you feel it twitch under your touch, nanami hissing under his breath.

the pit of his stomach lurches traitorously because he knows what your mushy little brain is up to— whenever he refuses to let you get your way, you’ll be reaching to hold his cock in your hand as if it is a genie that can grant all of your wishes.

one of these days, you will drive him insane.

especially when you’re humming sweetly as if you're folding laundry, hooking your thumbs under the waistband of his pajamas and tugging them down to his ankles. the heavy strain of his cock plops against his abdomen. you grab for it, marveling at how tiny your hand looks compared to it. honestly, nanami’s cock is just so fucking pretty to you that you long to tell all of your girlfriends about it— thick and weighty, a little darker than his body with a dusky tip that leaks so much. maybe you would leave out the detail that without proper preparation, his cock stretches you out painfully. tears and snot and limps in your walk whenever he fucks you.

“oh, it’s leaking,” you simper breathlessly, throat running dry.

“don’t be crass,” he scolds, but you ignore him to stare in wonderment at the way the bulbous head is drooling precum in a steady trickle, smearing over your hand as your thumb rubs against a thick vein. you go slippery, wet between the thighs at the thought of sucking it into your mouth, basking in the way his hips give a little jolt as you touch him. but other than that, he regards you with a flat look. “so what are you planning, hmm? tell me.”

“i want to make a bet with you,” you lower your face until you’re level with his crotch, opening up and lolling your cherry tongue out invitingly. nanami inhales a serrated breath as your soft lips sucks the tip of his cock into your little mouth, sampling his taste.

“how about this?” you continue, fluttering your lashes as you breathe in the masculine scent of his cock. he tastes good, sweet precum bursting over your tastebuds as you pause to swipe your tongue into the slit. you can't even wait, suckling down on the tip greedily, pausing between licks to speak. “if you can keep yourself from cumming until.. eleven ‘o clock then i’ll drop the idea of going on a date, but if you can’t… you have to take me to the street carnival. pretty please?”

he pauses to think about it for the longest, and you roll your eyes, scraping your teeth ever so lightly against the underside of his length to bring his attention back to you, earning a dirty look in reward.

“i’m offended you think i’ll lose,” he snorts, but the way his hips kick as you kitten lick over the slit of his tip makes you smile. you're already winning. “i’m an adult, little darling. i know how to control myself.”

“oh yeah?” you coo, challenging him by tilting your head down with an open mouth, warm and wet on the wide girth of nanami’s cock— drawing him in against hollowed cheeks, lathering him down in saliva that smells like mint and morning coffee. you reel back, hard on the pull up before slurping him back down in a slow mouth fuck.

he tosses his head back with a deep huff from his nostrils, hand twitching on the bed. sometimes you hate how quiet nanami is. on some nights, after he is forced to watch boys flirt with you around campus while you’re dressed in tiny little shorts and slutty little skirts, he’ll toss you on his mattress and fuck filthy lies into you about sitting you on his cock in front of all 40 students in his course and claiming you as his girl, growling in your ear until you’re splashing his sheets with cum and crying into his shoulder because you want it so bad. but during times when you’re being bratty, he never rewards your bad behavior with the praise you work on your knees for.

you briefly glance at the clock on the nightstand.

10:32 AM

“gonna cum yet, nanami-sensei?” you tease on the release, his cock slipping out of your mouth with a wet pop, glistening in your spit. you smile up at him with precum on your teeth, blinking coquettishly as you let his cock plop against his abdomen, flattening your tongue to lick long stripes up and down the length of his cock. “it’s okay if you want to let go of it, i’ll catch every last drop of your cum.”

“i’m not going to fucking cum,” nanami snaps, gritting his jaw. his eyes are narrowed and though he looks unimpressed and obstinate, he frays at the seams. “are you so hungry that you’ll eat my cum? stop this childishness and i’ll make you breakfast then.”

“mm-! that won’t work,” you giggle at his weak attempt, before sinking your mouth back down on his cock, nose buried in the sandy hairs around the base. digging your fingernails into the olive skin at his thighs when the tip of his cock bumps against your fleshy throat, gagging around him as you struggle to swallow around the thickness lodged in your throat. mouth too small to accommodate the size of his fat girth. your cheeks are so cute, too— chubby with the strain, but you’re determined, even as thick precum drools down the back of your tongue and you choke, gurgling and flexing your tongue to greedily swallow it down.

he’s always sensitive in the morning, waking up with his stiff erection pressed shamefully between your ass cheeks so you know exactly how to work him, a sweltering suction around his leaking cock. burning hot pleasure right into the pit of his gut. his fingers fist in the sheets and he looks so fucking ruined in the morning sun with his jaw slacked, neck blotchy and bursting with veins from the strain of holding off his grunts of pleasure— holding off his cum too. “j-jesus fuck, love. that’s it-”

this time, nanami is the one desperately searching for the red glare of the alarm clock, eyes wildly reading the numbers.

10:47 AM

thirteen minutes left. if he can just—

“don’t pretend you don’t feel good, kento-sensei,” you giggle as you reel back to breathe, swirling your tongue over the tip of his sticky cock. he grunts, his hips jolting desperately. “i know all of your weak spots, after all.”

the law professor bristles, panting as he glares down at you.

“don’t look at me like that… i just wanna make you feel good,” your aggressiveness isn't new to him. though usually you’re gooey in the head, on your back with legs splayed, letting him do whatever he wants to you— there are times like right now when you’re dipping further down to suck on his balls, weighty and full with cum, sending nanami’s hips into a frenzy. his hard cock slaps against your forehead as his hips jerk up, but you wrap your hand around it— pumping him quickly.

“fuck, i…”

“duh-oh, i’m running oush of time,” you mumble as you suck greedily on one of his balls, watching the clock.

10:57 AM

“what are you-”

“you liked it when i did this, right sensei?” you hum, melodic voice like a siren on a shipwrecked shore, luring him in. devilish mouth smiling sweet as you’re committing sin, lowering further to play your dirty tricks on him— spreading one of nanami’s ass cheeks apart to swirl your tongue around the rim of his hole at the same time you squeeze his cock painfully.

“d-don’t, darling. fuck… you’re going to make me-”

his reaction is immediate, a big fist twisting in your hair to shove your head away from him but it’s too late. above you, nanami punches out a grunt that sounds ruined, the spongy wetness of your tongue teasing at his puckered hole combined with your firm hand pumping his cock in a steady rhythm is too much. he loses the bet with the back of his head shoved into the pillow, thighs twitching from the shocks of pleasure as long ropes of cum splashes onto your face in white strings, dripping wet down your cheeks.

when he shoves your head away, you sit back on your heels— beaming up at him with the prettiest smile of triumph, covered in his cum.

“that’s that,” you tease, “should i wear my white or pink dress?”

“we’re only staying for a short while,” nanami announces with an exasperated sigh, even as he fastens the neon pink unlimited rides! armband around your wrist. when he finishes, you beam and hook your hand into the crook of his arm— scoping out the attractions. “where do you want to go first?”

the last day of the traveling carnival is crowded. an annual late summer tradition in your city, it never fails to draw out the numbers on weekends. lovesick couples share kisses, dining on overpriced treats. exhausted families push around strollers with wailing babies inside of them while teenagers shove each other in the queues for thrill rides, pop music blasting through the speakers. it’s a risk, the kind of location nanami would have avoided for a first official date with his student, for fuck’s sake, but he hates seeing your looks of disappointment.

he much prefers the way you look right now— drunk on the scent of buttery popcorn and sugary cotton candy— a devastating figment of his dreams, dressed in a little white chiffon sundress that whirls around your thighs with each movement. your eyes twinkling in glee behind the shades perched on your nose at the colorful tents, fast rides, and rows of sideshows.

“let’s try out one of the sideshows first?” you suggest, pointing excitedly to the striped canopy stalls lined up on one row of the carnival, adorable prizes sitting on shelves behind carnies enticing passersby to try their luck at strength tests, shooting games, hook-a-duck and skeeball for cheap prices. “you could use a win after this morning.”

“does that mouth of yours ever know how to be quiet?” nanami wonders wearily, pinching the bridge of his nose out of habit as rosy flush creeps above the collar of his shirt. “lead the way if you’re finished making fun of me.”

rolling your eyes, you tug him by the arm over to a shooting range. colorful balloons line up in many neat rows. the carnie behind the stall brightens up at new victims, his smile missing several teeth as he gestures to the game— holding up a handful of sharp darts in invitation.

“good evenin’, good evenin’ to the lovely couple! interested in trying your luck in pop-a-balloon? all ya hafta do is aim and throw. hitting five red ones in a row wins the largest prizes,” he markets, “yer fella looks like he’s got a good arm on ‘em too. whaddya say?”

“it’s an obvious scam they’re running. the red ones are the smallest,” kento points out under his breath, but you shoot a glare at him, nudging him forward. he sighs, reaching into the back pocket of his shorts to retrieve his wallet, slapping a crisp ten on the wooden counter. “fine.”

“good choice! take these darts ‘n’ give it yer best shot, buddy,” the carnie pockets the bill, handing the darts to nanami and stepping safely out of the way.

“alright, which one do you want, darling?”

“the big one,” you grin.

“of course you do,” the male purses his lips, folding up the sleeves of his shirt before he takes the darts. it’s attractive the way his forehead creases, concentration narrowing his eyes behind his green tinted sunglasses. he knows games like this are rigged, but that doesn’t stop him from carefully analyzing the balloons because you want the prize and he’ll do anything for you. it’s easy math, calculating the distance between his stance and the target wall— stretching a visual line across the tiny red balloons.

the first dart strikes out, bursting the balloon with a startling pop. you clap your hands happily in support, a greedy pang of want twinging in your lower belly as you watch his biceps ripple with the movement as the rest of the balloons bursts easily until he's out of darts— game over.

“congrats, man, y’ didn’t embarrass yer girl,” the carnie jokes, but you can tell he isn’t happy about the quick and easy win. “which one d’ you want, miss? top’s yours to choose from.”

“that one,” your eyes sparkle, pointing to the large pompompurin prize in that adorable little suit. you’re handed the fat plush that dwarfs your frame, squeezing it to your body in delight. “it looks like you, nanamin!”

“oh? should i be worried about the competition?”

“please, no one can ever replace you.”

you say it with a teasing smile, but nanami hates the way his heart stutters, even as his mind screams that he isn’t supposed to be here with you, entertaining your girlish affections, in love with you beyond repair.

but as the sun relaxes the sky into a dreamsicle orange, so does the weight on nanami’s shoulders. he still keeps his eyes sharp for familiar bodies, but he finds it harder to resist your energy— letting you take his hand to drag him around the rest of the carnival grounds to various attractions. spending his money on sticky cotton candy, powdery funnel cake and customized couple items. forcing him to accompany you on your favorite rides, too— rollercoasters and carousels and tilt-a-whirls until the two of you are dizzy and windswept.

“you looked relaxed,” you hum over the noise of thrill ride chains clanking together and carefree laughter in the background, tucked comfortably under kento’s arm as the two of you wait behind three other couples in the queue for the ferris wheel— your favorite and final stop before the date finally ends.

“i don’t have to work today,” he replies dryly, but his thin lips quirk up as if he wants to smile.

“that’s the only reason? ken, you’re so boring.”

you really have a terrible habit of not letting him finish his sentences, he thinks.

“wah, i wish we could do this everyday!” you cheer, cuddled up against nanami’s warm side as the ferris wheel begins to move, ascending higher into the sky as the large capsules sway in the breeze calmly.

nanami simply nods in reply as he stares out of the window of the enclosed gondola, the giant pompompurin he won for you balanced comically on one of his knees. the view is breathtaking from up here. people strolling around the carnival grow smaller, the winking lights on top of the tents nothing more than tiny fireflies in the late summer night from this height. so high above the world who would judge you, it’s easy to forget decorum and feel like a normal couple.

it even has kento completely at ease, sighing peacefully and believing that nothing could ruin the peaceful moment of bliss between the two of you up here—

until the ride jeers and jolts to a hard stop, swinging the capsules violently.

you hear a crackling noise from the speaker attached to one of the beams.

“attention all ride passengers!” the teenager operating the ride speaks into the staticky intercom with mildly contained panic. “we’re experiencing a malfunction and will have the ride working after a short while. please remain seated and do not open your capsule door. thank you!”

“just grand,” nanami purses his lips in disapproval before his eyes slide over to you, reaching over to draw you closer. “are you alright?”

but where he expects to be met with your apprehension, your answering smile is a twinkling constellation of giddiness and opportunity. after all, how could you be afraid when you’re stuck at the top of the world with the most attractive man born into it? looking at him right now means thinking of nothing else anyway. he looks good out of a suit with the outdoors on him— hair mussed up and sweat staining his pristine white linen shirt. you think about earlier today when you whined at him about lacking romance until he agreed to eat cotton candy from your fingertips, melted sugar crusted against your digits as nanami licked and suckled obscenely on purpose until your panties were embarrassingly damp.

knowing this date out in the open with him will likely be your last, you plan on making the best of it until the very end.

“h-hey, sensei?” you call for him, warmth blooming over your cheeks at the sudden idea pushing to the forefront of your mind.

“mhm?”

“didn’t seeing me in this pretty dress today make you want to fuck me?”

“don’t flatter yourself, darling,” he replies flippantly, but you don’t miss the sharp intake of breath that rattles through the quiet gondola that betrays his answer. you looked like an angel of sin the entire day in your little white dress. how many times did that fucking hem flutter above your thighs in the wind as you carelessly bounced around, giving him a flash of your cotton panties? how many times did he have to yank it down before another man got a look at his girl— “i hardly noticed it.”

“i could show you now,” you hum softly, never satiated. you rest your chin on his shoulder, fingers playing along the top of his thigh. “you could fuck me right here and no one would know. we’ll be here for a while…”

“you force me to come on this date with you during my day off, now you want sex too? you’ve been hanging around frat boys too much,” he deadpans, but his cock twitches in traitorous interest against his inner thigh at your nasty little proposition. it’s hardly appropriate and he shouldn’t allow you to crawl onto your knees and plop right into his lap, but nanami can never find the willpower to deny you whenever you desire something that he can provide. “need i remind you that we’re in public? what are you-”

“don’t be mean to me, sensei. i didn’t get to cum this morning, you know,” you whine childishly with a blubbery pout to goad him. you’ve always been insatiable and greedy, the simple thought of being stuck at the top of a ferris wheel with nothing else to do but wait to be rescued swirling a lusted ache into your cunt for him, needy and pulsing.

“if we would’ve stayed home per my suggestion, i would’ve taken care of this here,” he tuts, his voice clipped and hard as he gestures to the way you’re already squirming against his thigh. “you just can’t wait for me, can you? even after class, you always have to sit on my cock before we get home. what am i going to do with you?”

“i-i can’t help it,” you bundle the hem of your dress against your hips as you lean back, the center of your panties soaked and sticky wet between your puffy lips. he can’t see the damp patch waiting there for him, but he can feel it. wetting the cloth of his shorts down where you squirm and wriggle. the lights on the beams of the ferris wheel rotate into the gondola, flashing neon rainbows across your and nanami’s features in the quiet dark, allowing you to see the way his honey brown eyes darken to black.

“stop thinking so much for once and pass the time with me,” you continue, purring the words against his neck. you move closer, your breasts pressed up against the damp linen of his shirt as you run your tongue over the sharp cut of his jawline, inhaling the spicy scent of his sweat and tom ford aftershave. your next move is the last bit of convincing he needs, fingers slipping between the gap of your bodies to palm the fat line of his growing erection. “y-you’ll fuck me, right nanami?”

nanami grits his teeth as he feels his cock thicken in arousal, staving off a groan. his fingertips itch with the desire to touch you. he doesn’t know what has the biggest affect on him right now— the high altitude, the memory of your cute little throat struggling to swallow around him first thing in the morning, or just you in general. wearing a sundress shorter than some of his work shirts and begging him to fuck you on a ferris wheel.

“come here, pretty little thing,” nanami murmurs huskily, squishing his big fingers into your soft cheeks to draw your lips to his for a kiss. he never fails to make stars bust behind your eyelids when he touches you— bold and bratty until you’ve gotten your way and he’s in the lead, letting you squirm on his lap. your cunt gushes at the kiss alone, warm and wet and forbidden as nanami tongues over your bottom lip— sucking it into his mouth, kissing you to a swell until you open for him obediently and he’s fully in control. searing licks of his tongue as he explores you.

the kiss is sloppy, just how you like it. challenging a clean-cut man like nanami who lives by the book into swallowing your soft whines and moans, into swapping strings of bubbly spit that tastes like cotton candy and caramel apples.

“you’re so messy, even in public,” he chides, breaking the kiss to give you room to breathe but you chase it, nipping his upper lip with your teeth hard, nanami grunting low in his chest before you soothe the sting with your tongue. he pinches your chin between his fingers, twisting your head to the side to redirect his mouth to your neck. he knows better, but you cloud his judgment— murk up the waters of his mind as he fastens his lips onto a spot against your neck, suckling at the skin until the capillaries burst and his mark blooms slow.

“o-oh-”

“you’re even messier down here, aren’t you? filthy girl, how long have you been this wet?” he groans lecherously, fitting a hand between your spread legs and his thigh so he can twist the front of your ruined cotton panties against his fist, drawing them upwards so the damp fabric wedges painfully against the seam of your unused cunt.

“that h-hurts, ken,” you whine, but it whispers off into a blissful sigh as nanami shifts the fabric, rubbing raw against your slit. with his free hand, he tugs the sweetheart neckline of your dress to press wet kisses over your chest with a hum.

“i’ve got you, darling. i’ll take care of it- make it all better,” he promises, and just as he’s about to jerk your panties to the side and put his fingers on your pussy, the intercom crackles in a tinny screech—

the two of you startle, chests heaving breathlessly and hearts thumping tandemly in erratic rhythms.

“attention all ride passengers,” the voice is unfamiliar, clearing their throats before continuing, “the ride will be back in working condition in an estimate of thirty minutes. thank you for your patience and we apologize for the inconvenience.”

thirty minutes.

“n-nanami-sensei, h-hurry up! please, before-” you whisper out in a frantic breath, fumbling for the loops of his belt to unbuckle it.

“hush, i promised i would take care of it,” he grunts, as unhurried as ever as he swoops his head down and fastens his lips around your nipple over the material of your sundress, suckling the bud until he feels it peak against his tongue, until the fabric is soaked in his spit and your pussy clenches hungrily in need. he nibbles at the bud, torturing you— pinching it between his teeth, bringing irritated tears to your eyes at the little twinges of pain. “alright now. i want you to take my cock out and rub it through your messy little slit, can you do that for me?”

“can i sit on it?” you flutter your glistening eyelashes at him as he reels back, leaning against the bench of the capsule, letting you twiddle the buttons of his shirt apart first— revealing golden skin and the ripples of his washboard abs before you continue, sliding the zipper down on his shorts. kento’s cock is fully hard when you draw it against your palm, warm and twitching when you squeeze it experimentally.

“what did i teach you? haste is the enemy of quality.”

“god, y… you’re so annoying,” the gondola is too dark to see, but you know what it looks like from memory alone. his cock bounces between the two of you, slapping against your belly button, the mushroom tip leaking foggy droplets down the thick shaft. your tongue feels like cotton in your mouth as you wrap your fingers around it firmly, spreading tacky precum as you pump him slowly.

he tugs your panties to one side as you lift up just a little, letting nanami’s cock bend along the line of his thigh— long and hard under your ass when you sit down against it. he knows that the two of you are running out of time; he can’t tease you like he does at home or in his office after hours, boring you with philosophical quotes or quizzing you with topics you don’t pay attention to in his class and forcing you to sit on his cock for hours when you answer incorrectly. drool floods your mouth at the delicious friction as you hump your pussy over his cock desperately, wetting him down in strings of slick; your puffy clit rubbing against the flared head, but it's not enough.

“n-nanami-sensei, c-c’mon, this isn’t fair-” you pant into the crook of his neck, oversensitive and strung out, swiveling your hips in a slow circle, grinding your clit down hard until it feels sore.

“what isn’t fair, little darling?” nanami chuckles in amusement, but he sounds like ruination, voice gravel on stone. he slips the straps of your sundress from your shoulders to press kisses to your heated skin. he forces the fabric down further, just until one of your nipples are exposed and he can wrap his lips around the bare skin, suckling it against his tongue. he drags his cock away from your folds, slapping it hard against the coarse curls at your mound. “you think i'm unfair because you want my cock inside you around all of these people and i won't give it to you? when will you ever learn propriety, hmm?”

“n-not ‘til you fuck it into me, kento-sensei,” is your petulant response, gripping the skirt of your sundress dress until the skin of your knuckles feel taut. it’s unfair that he makes fun of how much you want him, it's unfair that he has all of that cock but he won't let you fuck yourself on it, it's unfair but you let it happen— wriggling in anticipation, letting him slap the tip of his cock against your clit and tease you out as you moan for it dumbly. “wanna sit on it your cock so i can learn something!”

“why do you think you deserve it?”

the effect he has on you is dangerous. maybe you’re naïve and reckless with your heart, the dewy-eyed college girl helplessly in love with her professor— but no one has ever made you feel the way that he does, not the shitty frat boys or snobby trust fund babies that chase your cute smile and pretty skirts at parties and in hallways. while he thinks you’re using him to fulfill a fantasy, you’re simply unable to convey your feelings into actual words. it’s more than just wanting to fuck him because you’re good at it and it feels good. instead, it’s because when his cock is stretching you out, the two of you joined in the most intimate way possible, it’s forbidden words left unsaid. you deserve him because you lo—

“buh-..’cause you always gimme what i want?” is how you choose to respond instead.

“incorrect answer as always, brat,” he scolds, reaching around to deliver a punishing slap to your ass, making you cough out a yelp. “sit on me, even though you don’t deserve it.”

oh.

you glance out of the window behind kento’s head. it’s too dark to see inside of the other stranded gondolas below you, but you wonder if they can see you. if the other couples are watching as you lean up on sore knees, smearing his precum along your folds as his cock swipes through your slit until the fat head catches on your entrance and you hear him hiss.

your heart thuds painfully against your ribs, the familiar feeling of delicious fear at the sheer size of your professor’s cock setting an ache in your belly. you widen your thighs, your knees scratching against the rough material of the bench as you reach down to spread one of side of your folds apart, opening yourself for him. but as you plan to sink down slowly, carefully, the ferris wheel suddenly rocks, spearing you down too fucking quick on the blunt head of his cock—

“w-wait, k-kento-sensei-!” your abrupt shriek rings out in the silence as you scramble desperately to wrap your arms around his neck for support. glassy tears spring hot to the corner of your eyes, the stretch making your sore cunt flutter around him tight and desperate as your knees try to snap shut against his hips uselessly. you try to hold yourself from sliding down on him any further until you're ready for it, but you’re so fucking wet that your pussy greedily sucks in the rest of his inches and your thighs give up against the strain, weight forcing you down to sit flush against his lap— jutting his cock up against your womb with a deep twinge.

“take it easy, darling girl,” he bites out behind clenched teeth as his head tosses back against the window, his groan vibrating against your bodies. fingers digging deep into the soft skin of your hips at the intrusion, the sensation of your pussy sinking down on his cock is too much— breaking him out into a cold sweat, feverish. you're so small, tightening around him until he feels like choking. his calloused hand tries to rub soothingly over the soft dimples of your lower back, but he’s just as fucked out as you.

“i-i can’t-!” you cry out, trembling in his arms and clinging to him hopelessly, snot bubbling in your nose and mascara staining your cheeks. you shift experimentally and you feel your stomach lurch with a wet gasp punching from your lips, but there’s no real time to get used to the stretch of his cock inside of you and you know it— not when the mechanics are close to fixing up the broken ride. “n-nanami-”

“you can do it, love,” he coos, kissing the temple of your sweaty forehead with the tender care you deserve for trying to accommodate his fat girth. he rewards you by fanning his hand over your belly, thumb dropping upside down to rub through your folds, fucking it over your swollen clit in squishy circles. “show me how well this pussy can take me.”

you nod dumbly, the pleasure singeing your nerves raw as you shakily lift out of his lap before sinking again, his cock disappearing against your gummy walls with a thick push that squelches lewdly on the draw in. it’s overwhelming and so fucking good, your hand slapping against the window behind his head for leverage— leaving a print in the condensation. “eugh- f-fuck, kento-”

there’s a different kind of stroke to a cock when you’re not allowed to have it. sweet punishment for your sins because you aren’t supposed to be here with your professor, fucking him at all, let alone in public. forced to settle for short, deep drops of your hips instead of bouncing high and spreading it out— keeping him snug against your cervix in order not to rock the capsule too much. it’s messy and your cunt loves it, slick spreading along your thighs, gushing down the length of nanami’s cock.

“ah, look at you. you love this, don’t you? you wish someone would see. it’s like you want to get caught so everyone will know who this cunt makes the sweetest sounds for,” nanami rasps out, thumbing your clit faster now, leaving his fingerprints under the hood of the sore nub. he widens his stance, spreading his feet apart to force you to sink deeper into his lap— hard jostles, your ass cheeks slapping down lewdly against his balls. your back arches so prettily for him that he can’t help but grasp one of your tits into his hand, bringing it to his mouth to taste the salty skin on his tongue.

“i-i love it-! i love it s’much, kento-sensei. love you s‘much-!” you sob loudly, burning with the affection his cock fucks against your nerves. you’re drunk on the pleasure, too much dopamine twinkling in your brain to realize the weight of your confession, but kento does. heart sputtering and swells inside his chest cavity because you sound like you mean it— cock thickening inside of you.

“fuck- fucking love you too, my darling girl.”

the desperate rhythm of your fucking upsets the gondola, rocking it slightly, and kento loses ground— his teeth catching your nipple in a pinch that makes you fuck down on him harder. the pain combined with the pleasure of his cock dragging in and out of your cunt dizzyingly sweet. he soothes over the sting with a gentle suck of his mouth and you squirm with a whine, gushing around him even more, your sticky cream foaming around the base of his cock in a squishy ring that aids your slide.

“we are terribly sorry for the inconvenience, folks. the ride appears to be fully operational now and we will begin unloading passengers now!”

the intercom announces loudly as the engine of the ride cranks up on the ground, the flashing lights shining into the gondola once again. you don’t even pay attention to the bright beams, eyes rolled back and and head too full of cum to notice so kento quickly clamps his hand over the back of your head and forces it down against his shoulder to hide your silhouette in the window.

“no- don’t wan’ get off yet. i-i’m so close… wanna cum on your cock so bad!”

“what are you going to do if we reach the bottom of the ferris wheel doing this?” he pants, his hands pressing searing bruises into the curve of your hips as he lifts you effortlessly up and down his cock, breaching your soaked cunt with powerful, deep fucks that leaves you ruined.

“a-are you scared of getting caught, nanami-sensei?” you whine, shifting against his strong hold, drooling against his shoulder as you moan loudly. nanami answers by bucking his hips off the bench hard, letting the devastating drops of your hips be met with hard snaps of his own.

“hush, filthy girl. you’re so fucking loud,” he hisses, his hand leaving your hip to stuff three fingers into your mouth, clacking against your teeth with the movement. “suck them or do you want someone to hear us and stop you from cumming?”

by the time the ferris wheel begins to descend, your mind is lost to the pleasure nanami fucks into your pussy. your exhausted fingers rub furiously at your puffy clit as you bounce frantically on your professor’s drenched cock, letting the fat cockhead bully that spongy sweet spot nestled along your walls repeatedly until you’re wailing even louder, the sound barely muffled by nanami’s thick fingers.

it’s so fucking good that neither one of you care about getting caught any longer, consequences be damned. the musky scent of sex permeates the tight air, the capsule rocks violently with your sloppy movements. and how could you care about anything else when nanami grips your hair and hisses into your ear, once and for all, “cum for me, you little slut,”

“uhuh, k-kento-sensei ‘m gonna cum for y-you-! jus’ for you-!” you promise with a cry, swallowing his cock down with greedy bounces of your cunt to his lap— thighs trembling violently, eyes crossing up, blurring your vision with tears as you fuck lewdly. your nails scratch down the window desperately as kento takes over and rubs his fingers through your slit, hooking his middle finger into your cunt alongside his cock, stretching you out even further while his thumb is back to rubbing into your clit again. sharp shocks of pleasure in that final movement that burns through your veins, throwing you over the edge.

“give me one, little love- give me one right here, let me feel you-”

you’re wailing too fucking loud, but he doesn’t dare stop you, not when you’re this breathtaking. trembling in his lap as the knot in your lower belly bursts wide open, knees clacking against his hips as your orgasm curls your toes, washing you down with white hot pleasure. you cling to nanami’s neck desperately, cunt expanding as overstimulation sets in and you splash juices against his shorts and the hem of your sundress with so much force that his cock slips out with a wet squelch, until you quickly push it back in with a gasp.

“h-hah, oh god-!” you squeal, writhing all over his lap, cunt still pulsing and clamping around him. kento swears and you know that he’s close too, doing your best to give him a few more weak drops of your cunt on his cock. his muscles tighten and he cums with a long guttural groan that he buries against the sweaty skin of your neck, spurting thick globs of warm seed right up against your womb just as your gondola reaches the bottom of the ferris wheel—

“f-fuck, darling. get off- get the fuck up right now-”

you quickly climb off of kento’s lap on gummy legs, his cum pooling against your cotton panties and trickling messily down your inner thigh. you wipe your thighs on the hem of your ruined dress as kento calmly tucks his dripping cock back into his shorts before buttoning his wrinkled shirt up with an air of easy sophistication, as if he just didn’t fuck his student dirty on a ferris wheel, as if your squirt isn't soaked into his shorts and dripping onto his shoes.

“come here, you,” he beckons, reaching for you to tenderly wipe your tear stained cheeks with his shirt, clearing up the smudges of mascara. “there.”

you smile at him blearily just as the door to the gondola opens. the ride operators take in your disheveled appearances, but round it up to an hour of being stranded at the top of a thrill ride. what were they going to say, anyway? miss, why is that man's cum leaking down your leg?

nanami is casual, holding his head high and exiting first with your pompompurin plush while you follow behind him shyly, his arm wrapping around your waist to hoist you down from the gondola. he knows that the limp in your walk will be too obvious— you’re always so sore after he fucks you— so he kneels down on the platform, letting you climb onto his back to be carried.

the carnival is deserted now. rides that once blasted the summer’s top hits have been shut down, sideshows boarded up for the night, and fairgoers who filled the streets have gone home by the time you and nanami make your way towards the exit, avoiding the makeshift emergency triage to the left checking on passengers of the ferris wheel even though no one was injured. but maybe you needed to let them check your heart and diagnose why you selfishly forced nanami into hanging out with you on his only day off, why you confessed to loving your professor while you were bouncing on his cock—

why you meant every word you said to him.

“say, kento,” you call sleepily, one cheek smushed against his shoulder as your head lolls cutely against it. you hear him hum for you to continue, shifting your weight evenly as he walks out of the carnival grounds and towards the parking lot. a lump forms at the base of your throat, and you hate how vulnerable and weak you sound. “i’m sorry for dragging you out here today on your day off. you must be annoyed with me, right?”

“don’t be foolish,” his voice is back to that endearing monotone, but he gives your thighs a soft squeeze as he strolls, pressing the key finder to his mercedes once you reach the parking lot to locate it. he's been an idiot the entire time, hiding you away like he has. “i’m off next saturday too so let’s go out on a date again.”

˚‧ ✰ hottest students in nanami's class: @tobiodose, @lawscorazon, @fushisslut, @danibby, @hanmas, @atsumeii, @venusflytrapstar, @sheerxfiction, @sintiva, @getosbunny, @tonaken, @sailewhoremoon !!

#nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami smut #nanami kento smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #nanami kento imagines #jujutsu kaisen imagines

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sauriansolutions · 2 months

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FloRid Thoughts...

Riddle has a favorite seat in every class: front row, closest to the teacher. Everyone knows and respects that's Riddle's Spot. No one dares to try to take it from him or mess with it in any way.

Well, except...

One day, Floyd starts leaving stuff on Riddle's desk. Not chewed gum or pencil shavings, or anything like that. Also not folded notes or small, wrapped boxes. Just bafflingly random things.

"Floyd, did you just put a rock on my desk?"

"Yup!"

"... Why?"

"It's for you Goldfishie!"

"What am I supposed to do with a rock?"

"Ehh, whatever you want~"

This starts happening almost every day. One day, it's a spiky seed pod from a sweetgum tree that he found on the ground. Another day, it's two juniper berries picked from a bush outside the classroom. Then, a worn rubber eraser, with pencil marks that look like a frowny face.

By this point in his school life, Riddle has decided the best way to deal with Floyd's antics is to ignore them. He accepts each new item with an eyeroll and some form of, "Wow. I've always wanted a pencil that's been sharpened all the way down to the eraser. Thanks so much, Floyd."

"You're welcome lil Goldfish!" Floyd inevitably beams in response, as he goes skipping away to his actual class, or more likely, to goof off somewhere.

Riddle has no idea what to do with these "gifts." He really should throw them out, he thinks. After all, they're just junk. Just some weird prank Floyd has decided to play on him.

Instead, for some reason, Riddle keeps them. He puts them in a shoebox under his bed, where he doesn't have to look at them. (Except when he takes the box out every day to add a new item.) Where he doesn't have to think about them. (Except on nights when he can't sleep, and finds himself wondering.)

Riddle is a top student, but even he can't take every elective class. Which is too bad, because if he'd taken Cultural Studies of the Deep, he'd have known that symbolic gift-giving is a common way of expressing interest in a prospective mate, in many regions of the coral sea.

Maybe it is better that he doesn't know. Because, much as Floyd may love certain traits of his, Riddle might not appreciate the tiny pencil denoting his short status. Or the fact that the eraser looks just like his face when he's mad (it's even pink!)

But he might appreciate the realization that the rock (also pink), is shaped like a rose. That the juniper berries are the exact same blue-gray shade of his eyes, and the sweetgum ball looks like a small, spiky hedgehog.

What Riddle thinks remains to be seen. It probably won't be long before he starts putting the pieces of the puzzle together.

#twisted wonderland #floyd leech #riddle rosehearts #floyd x riddle #sauri drabbles #writing this gave me a toothache #the fancy proper lad and the sea gremlin just give me so many warm fuzzies #also there's something I love about cultural misunderstandings?#I am probably explaining this poorly

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vanillann · 2 years

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ＭＥＤＵＳＡ- R.BUCKLEY X FEMALE!READER

i. ii. iii.

okay so i loved writing pandora so much that i decided to write a medusa fic. i think it going to be my new brand

SUMMARY: in which robin confesses to her scary lover a very scary thing

robin buckley masterlist

WC: 1.1k

Robin Buckly had a thing for girls who were gentle and lovely. She liked girls who wore bubble gum pink lipstick and wouldn’t dare say the wrong thing to offend a soul. Robin supposed she liked them because they were safe, they would never look at her because of their jock boyfriends and she’d never had to face the very real possibility of love.

That was until (Y/N) (L/N) combat boots ruined her plans with a red lipped grin. Her leather jacket found home on the floor of Robin’s bedroom floor and her lips on Robin’s. She had no jock boyfriend, in truth it was quite the opposite. She could freeze poisonous boys in their tracks with a single look, her eyes turning their body to stone with scared whimpers and pathetic stuttering of words. She was just that powerful, just that beautiful.

So beautiful, it scared Robin. She could feel herself loving the scary woman before her as she wandered around Robin’s room for the hundredth time. Her fingers traced the book albums on her shelf, but Robin couldn’t help but stare. So mundae, yet so appealing.

(Y/N) wandered around in a button up that belonged to Robin and a pair of black laced pantites, which made Robin forget how to speak; which was a very hard thing to do. If (Y/N) noticed the silence, she didn’t say a word as she fluttered through the room as if she owned it. For all that Robin cared, anything that was Robin’s was hers also. Robin’s kidney? Hers. Robin’s collector edition of Like A Virgin? Hers. Anything she wanted, Robin would give it to her with a giddy little smile.

“How do you do it?”

Robin wished she knew what her question meant, but as (Y/N) spun and took her soul with only a single raised eyebrow she knew exactly what she had meant.

“How do you make fear you?”

“Because I’m scary,” was all she shared as she continued to flip through an old textbook that lay open across a desk.

Robin would’ve accepted that answer normally. (Y/N) wore leather jackets with rivets scattered in no particular pattern and told people she ate her twin in the womb; even if she didn’t. She joked about making the devil her bitch and once broke a grown man's nose with her platform boot. She was perfectly scary on paper, so much so Robin wondered how she was watching the same person.

Her black lace panties had a hole at the hip, clearly worn on too many times, and the button up she wore had little pineapples on it. She gently hummed “Dreams” under her breath and even slightly danced on the messy bedroom floor to the beat.

The same girl that helped Steve fill out his Family Video application, and Robin's, even if she hated to admit it. The same girl who held Lucas Sinclair after Max Mayfield broke his heart, then held Max as she cried because she broke Lucas’s heart. The same girl who drew bathes for Robin after working two twelve hour shifts in a row. The same girl who would brush Robin’s bangs from her eyes after sex, kissing both eyelids before slipping from the bed with a skip in her step.

“You aren’t scary,” Robin finally spoke up after her daydream became too real, something that often happened in Robin’s world.

“I’m not?” The smirk was clear, but to Robin it was almost transparent. She could see right through the cocky demeanor of the women before her. She could tell her soul had melted into a pile beside Robin’s messy clothes.

“No, I mean never to me at least,” Robin gently crawled to the edge of the four poster bed, her hand silently begging to touch (Y/N)’s skin. Even if not but minutes ago they were as close and two could become, Robin needed the heat of her skin melting the worry from her blood stream.

“Because you aren’t like the rest,” her fingers ghosted Robin’s hairline as she finally approached, “I only scare people who don’t like powerful women. Men that want to hurt others, they are scared of someone just as powerful and much more gentle.” Robin wished she was as poetic as her, formulating her words with such purpose.

“I-” the words almost slipped from Robin’s kiss swollen lips without a second thought. She had almost confessed the lifelong fear without a moment to think. She almost made a fool of herself on a random Thursday evening without any pants on. Robin wanted to be wearing pants when she said those fatal words, it was her only guideline.

“What?”

Robin wanted to say it, she wanted to confess to the scary human in front of her while she wrote nonsense on her forehead with her gentle hands, but she couldn’t. She wasn’t barve like (Y/N), she couldn’t stop people with a glance or a word. She could only make a mess of things.

So she did the next best thing.

“I adore you.”

Robin knew it wasn’t the same as those words, the ones her throat was begging her to scream at the top of her lungs; but it was all she had to often while she fought to become braver.

“You adore me?” Robin could only nod. (Y/N) let her fingers still on her forehead, her normally siren-like eyes widen. Walls crashing to the floor to join Robin’s discarded pants and Madonna t-shirt. Her eyes doe like as her fingers ghosted down the front of Robin’s throat, if she quoted scripture from memory.

“I adore you, Robin Buckly.”

Maybe it wasn’t the scary l-word that had made people start wars and people lose their minds over it, but it felt right. Maybe they weren’t made to love each other, maybe they were meant to adore each other. Robin supposed it was more romantic that way, because no fear was shared between the two. No fear of it being ruined by words with one syllable and people saying nasty things. It was only lovely and gentle.

Robin might have only loved gentle girls from a distance because she was scared that they wouldn’t love that way. That they love with fear and harsh language. It was an enigma but to Robin it made all the sense.

She’d rather keep it this way, where the only scary thing about her relationship was her Medusa turning assholes into stone.

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skrunklybf-archived · 2 years

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𝚖𝚢 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚋𝚘𝚢;

pairing: bertholdt hoover x f!reader

warnings: smut, roommates to lovers, pining, unprotected sex, creampies, virginity loss (m), praise kink, panty stealing/sniffing

wc: 4.1k

notes: heya 🖤 this lovely piece is a commission for @tadokorochann, which i absolutely loved writing bc bert holds my entire heart in his big ass hands 😤 i hope you enjoy!!

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Bertholdt Hoover felt like a bad person. With his large hands shaking slightly, tucked deep into his pockets, he made what felt like an impossibly long journey back to his room at the end of the hall. The soft, smooth fabric wrapped tightly around his fingers miraculously soothed his anxiety and skyrocketed it at the same time. Still, he'd need to wait until he was tucked away in bed before daring to pull it from its hiding place, safe in his sweatpants for only him to know about.

Bertholdt Hoover felt like a bad friend. And maybe he was -- the thought stuck to the back of his mind like gum under his shoe. This little habit of his couldn't last forever, could it? Surely one day he'd be caught. And surely you'd be livid, disgusted, utterly creeped out by the tree of a man you've called your roommate for a year and a half.

Gently pushing the door closed behind him, Bertholdt let out a deep breath and let his shoulders fall, stress all but rolling off of his jittery form. In the quiet privacy of his bedroom, he could indulge in his most embarrassing secret, the one that would most certainly ruin your friendship if you ever found out. He pulled the soft tee over his head, tossing it onto his desk to take care of at a later time, and unearthed the prize burning a hole in his pocket: a perfect pair of your panties.

The brunette stretched himself out over the mattress, yanking the waistband to his sweats down to rest against the middle of his toned thighs. A growing problem sat in his boxer briefs, staring back at him. Straining against the fabric, his hardening dick made itself known in the form of a long outline, waiting eagerly for his anxious hands.

Purple cotton. You had plenty of cute underwear, ranging in colors and styles for different occasions. Bertholdt knew, not only as your roommate but as your friend, that you had your fair share of intimate nights and partners to impress. You would usually text him to tell him when you'd be having company over -- as a courtesy, or perhaps a teasing little flex, he wasn't sure -- either way, he knew you weren't a virgin. He knew you owned plenty of frilly, lacy items that would make anyone with a heartbeat salivate.

He also knew, though it was muffled through the walls, what you sounded like; your head was probably thrown back in ecstasy and your legs shaking as sweet moans slipped from your lips. Bertholdt let these sounds replay in his head over and over again, forming the perfect soundtrack for his lonely, lovestruck activities -- his arm tucked behind his head and your sweet, used panties draped over his face.

It was more than desperate depravity, though one could certainly describe it that way, especially with his guilt laid so thick you could practically feel it when he looked at you. Even with his hand kneading over his aching dick, Bertholdt knew he didn't just want you. He knew there was so much more to the way your scent alone could stir so much up in him. Giving his cockhead a firm squeeze, Bert groaned to himself, into the crotch of your panties that laid perfectly over his mouth and nose.

Bertholdt Hoover knew he was in love, with his roommate, no less. He just didn't know what to do about it.

Chest tightening, he imagined your face hovering over him, twisted up in bliss. He imagined what you felt like as he fisted his cock, letting little whimpers slip out between breaths growing desperate. The best part of moments like these was when he would wrap your panties around his dick -- if he thought about it hard enough, he could imagine you grinding against him, mixing your slick with his precum. If he thought about it hard enough, it was almost like you were there with him, showing him exactly how to please you and make you feel like he'd always dreamed of.

He thought about pulling you in, so close he could feel your hot skin against his, smell your sweet perfume with every breath. He always kissed you in his climax, some fleeting part of his half-conscious mind savoring the idea like a sacred memory...

... except for the fact that the most intimate he'd ever been with you was when you weren't even there. Fuck, you weren't even aware of his nasty little habit, and he was eager to keep it that way.

Bertholdt Hoover, in your humble opinion, was an absolute sweetheart. A gentle giant, you liked to call him. Timid, kind, maybe a little skittish at times -- the man was an angel, a saint, as far as you were concerned; which is why a certain habit of his surprised you as much as it did.

It started small, nearly unnoticeable. A few things in your drawers felt oddly out of sorts one night after work, and you couldn't quite place what, but the fact didn't bother you too much. Even as time went on and things started to snap into place, you found yourself paying no negative mind to your suspicions... even with your laundry hamper becoming somewhat of a buffet for certain insatiable desires. Bertholdt was a sweetheart, he'd never do anything to hurt you.

What these little acts of thievery stemmed from, you were blissfully unaware of, but some part deep down longed to find out. Did this mean he found you attractive? You certainly found him attractive. Tall, lean, with brilliant olive green eyes and a dazzling smile. The thought of Bertholdt fantasizing about you specifically brought a tingling warmth to the pit of your fluttery belly.

... or, perhaps he was just horny, and the lewdness of it all was what got him off. Yeah, that was probably it -- such a shy guy had to be into something kinky underneath that impossibly sweet exterior, you were sure of it.

At the end of the day, maybe you fed into his habit a little bit. Maybe it became a bit of a game, something to make your heart race. Maybe you'd pretend to drop some of your laundry on the way back to your room, or leave a few pieces of clothing hunched on the bathroom floor instead of your hamper. And maybe it excited you, deep down, to think that it excited him as well.

Limbs heavy, you let your keys fall onto the countertop with a clang. Finally home after a long day, the house fell eerily quiet; both inhabitants were fairly docile people, so the silence wasn't too out of the ordinary, but still, something felt off in the air as you stepped farther in. Usually, Bert would be poised on the couch with Netflix already running, eager to ask you about your day and listen to whatever petty woes you could scrounge up as a status report.

Nothing. The TV sat dead and not even the hall lights were on -- you were cloaked in darkness as you explored your own home. Carefully, you padded into the hall, toward the bedrooms nestled at the end. Your door laid open, as you had left it, but Bertholdt's sat tightly shut with a dim light pooling out onto the carpet from the space at the bottom.

Curious, you peeked your head into your room and flicked on the light. At first glance, it looked untouched from how it had been hours before. Your bed was made nicely and your stuffed animals sat dutifully by the nightstand. There was one small, nearly insignificant difference, though, and you caught it with a twinkle in your eye. A tiny grin grew over your face once the realization hit you.

Normally, you'd never consider what you were doing. Normally, you'd make yourself known -- calling his name, offering a formal knock, and waiting patiently like a good roommate. But these were not normal circumstances. And part of you wondered as you swung open his door: would your relationship ever be normal again after this night?

"Bertie?"

The brunette jumped out of his skin in an instant. You appeared like an apparition, haunting him, suddenly invading his space and spiking his blood pressure in mere seconds. A flood of emotions washed over the man all at once, easily frying his circuits as he scrambled to cover himself. Getting caught with your dick in your hand is one thing; getting caught with your roommate's panties wrapped around your cock holds a whole new universe of problems he was not ready to face. Blood pumping furiously in his ears, Bertholdt flicked the blanket over his lower half, desperate to hide his shame before you could spy your own clothing -- which, frankly, was the first thing you noticed when you let yourself in.

Bertholdt was mortified. His hands began to shake again, gripping the blanket with white knuckles. He raised his knees to disguise the tent in his lap that had yet to go down. What horrible timing; you caught him moments away from a spine-tingling orgasm.

Bewildered, you stared on, unsure of how to label the feelings swirling around in your head and chest. You knew those purple panties you cheekily laid out atop your dresser were gone. You knew your suspicions were proven right, but still, seeing your tall friend splayed out on his bed, his strong hands stroking himself under those fucking gray sweatpants... it was an overwhelming sight. For a split second, you realized you had never seen him shirtless before. He hid those sleek muscles well under all the casual clothing. A red tint painted itself over his strong chest, up his neck, and focused on his poor face, screwed up into a look akin to anguish.

"Ber--"

"Please," he interrupted you with a squawk, wide eyes fixed over your form, "I-I'm really sorry, p-please, I'm sorry!" Bertholdt bumbled, voice reaching an octave you weren't sure he was capable of before. He buried his burning face in his hands, finally tearing the deer-in-headlights gaze away from you, who stood frozen in place. "God, f-fuck, please don't hate me." The cracking in his typically smooth voice left your chest feeling tight and uneasy.

Against your intentions, a tiny, bell-like giggle slipped into the room. Bertholdt peeked at you from between his fingers.

Absolutely without a doubt, his life was over. He'd have to move out -- there's no way you'd want to live under the same roof as him anymore -- fuck, he'd probably have to find new friends, too. He could practically see the shock and disgust on the group's faces when you would inevitably tell them what exactly had happened. How could you not? Bertholdt Hoover stole your panties. Bertholdt Hoover jacked off whimpering your name, and you caught him red fucking handed.

You giggled, taking a step further into his neutral-toned room. The dark green duvet he hid under was soft to the touch, kissing your fingertips with comfort as you sat at the edge. The man wouldn't look at you. He wouldn't raise his head, too busy raking shaky fingers through dark hair with his eyes slammed shut, a self-soothing action you recognized him to jump to.

"I don't hate you," you began softly, watching him closely for any sort of reaction, "please don't say stuff like that. You know I love you, Bertie."

Conflict. Conflict! Were you just trying to make him feel better? Pull him out of this deep dark chasm of self-pity by the back of his neck like a wet kitten? There's no way you weren't the least bit disturbed -- Bertholdt gnawed on his bottom lip. Even if you were being genuine, the words felt a bit uncanny; whatever love you had for him was not the same as the love he's had for you for so long.

"Can I be honest?"

He chanced a glance upwards, catching your gaze for a second before darting away again. Very slowly, he nodded, wondering to himself why you fiddled with your hands the same way you did when anticipating a phone call or watching a tense movie. Doomsday thoughts scattered themselves around his poor ruminating brain, only to be dashed away once you opened your mouth again. "I... kind of..." after a moment, you sighed and shook your head, leaning toward him with purpose, "fuck, can I just kiss you?"

What a fever dream. Invisible hands still iron gripped inside his chest and left his breaths hollow, but Bertholdt found himself blinking in surprise, nodding away like a dumbfounded bobblehead. Maybe it was some sick, convoluted prank at his expense, or maybe you were taking pity on your poor, pathetic virgin of a roommate -- either way, Bertholdt couldn't find it in himself to turn down the offer.

Electricity danced beneath his skin. Shame, guilt, and worry began to mix dangerously with the budding sprites of hope and confusion you all but dropped onto him with your reaction. There was no yelling, no accusations, fuck, you didn't even question him.

Had you known? How long had you known? What did you think--

Soft, so fucking soft, it's all he could think about. He could feel just how uneven his breaths were as they ghosted your face, drawling out from his nose in unsure waves. Every inch of skin felt hot and prickly as you moved closer to him on the bed. Your lips were smooth and silky across his, almost like they had never been used for anything but delivering sweet praise. The feeling was all too fleeting, popping his eyes open to watch you as you pulled away just a few inches.

"I'm sorry," Bertholdt blurted again, "it's okay if you're actually mad, I-I was out of line."

"I just kissed you. D'you really think I'm mad?" A playful smile graced your lips. Something darker fell over your gaze, urging you to inch toward him again, crossing the space with intent. "You think I didn't notice my panties disappear after I take them off?" Delicate fingers walked themselves up his thigh and over the peaks of his muscular chest. A pink glow glazed Bertholdt's neck, pooling all his emotions right in his face, blazing to the touch. You gingerly pressed your thumb to his petal pink bottom lip, dragging it down just slightly and watching his mouth part so deliciously slowly.

Disbelief held the brunette in a chokehold. He wanted desperately to move, to get closer to you, to have any reaction whatsoever -- but he was frozen in place, completely at a loss for what the next move should be.

What was even happening?

The first kiss hadn't even been processed yet when you claimed another one. You held his jaw, fanning a thumb smoothly over his cheekbone, reveling in the way he so eagerly melted into your touch. His kiss felt naive, unsure, but Bertholdt leaned in regardless, seeking more of the addictive electricity that buzzed with your proximity. What was that feeling, that tingling in his cheeks? It flipped his tummy around dangerously, leaving him caught in a free-fall.

Bertholdt Hoover had kissed someone before. Granted, it was ages ago, and it was from some stupid party-game-induced dare... and the girl never mentioned it again... yes, he had kissed someone before. But it wasn't like kissing you.

The quiet of the house was punctuated by the way your lips smacked when you pulled away again. Lids hanging low, you drank him in, the flush over his face and the starry look in his eye. "Can this be a regular thing?" you smiled, catlike in your demeanor. The feeling of wrapping this puppy dog of a man around your finger was intoxicating. He only stared back, jaw slightly slacked in your delicate hold, gears turning away in his head.

"Wh-- I mean... i-is that what you want?" He tried to speak confidently, and steady his tongue, but it all felt like a dream. Hazy, fluffy, unreal. He watched you giggle with a deathly curious gaze, the sound sparking more climbing flutters in his core.

"Yeah, think so," you placed a quick kiss on the tip of his nose, "I've kind of liked you for a while, yknow? Maybe... we can try some things out?"

With that, you shifted your position, caging Bertholdt between your arms and crawling up his form, leaning back against the headboard. He froze again. What did you mean by that? Where should he put his hands? Did you want him to touch you?

His breath caught deep in his hammering chest as soon as you planted yourself over his hips, dangerously close to the reviving bulge under the covers.

"You like me?" he muttered, blinking at you with big doe eyes. "What... um, like me, like how?"

Laying your hands over his bare chest, you could feel just how clammy he had gotten. A heavy and uneven rhythm pounded away under the taught skin. Carefully guiding a pair of large hands to rest on your hips, you smiled down at Bertholdt, who meekly returned the gesture. "You're smarter than this, Bertie."

Indeed he was, he knew what you could be insinuating -- but the idea was too sweet, too perfect to be reality. He awkwardly rubbed small circles into your hips with his thumbs, staring holes into the hem of the leggings you wore to work. A tiny sliver of pastel fabric peeked out from beneath the waistband.

Upon his silence, you leaned in and peppered kisses over his forehead, "I mean, I like you. And I'd like you to be more than just my cute roommate," you heard him swallow thickly, "if you feel the same."

Fuck, yes he did. Bertholdt Hoover had been in love with you for ages.

Overwhelmed, the man nodded rapidly, lips drawn into a quivering line. You cupped his face, tilting his gaze up to meet your honeyed eyes. "I need to hear you say it," you nearly purred. He blinked, tongue feeling impossibly heavy in his dry mouth.

"I-I want that, so bad. I wanna be more than just your roommate."

"My cute roommate."

"Right," a small chuckle forced its way through the frazzled nerves, "your cute roommate."

Satisfied, you let your fingers wander down his jaw, grazing the flushed skin over his neck, down to the strong shoulders you'd just been gifted the sight of earlier. The feeling of something rubbing against your backside brought a sly grin over your face, but you said nothing about it, only choosing to adjust your position to straddle him more intimately -- looking down between you, the bulge became so much more prominent under the blanket, sparking a fire in your belly. Bertholdt noticed your stare and grew antsy. His hands dared to venture down and rest atop the plushness of your thighs.

The way you kissed him grew deeper, with more fire than he'd had yet to experience. A deep ache settled in his balls, a heavy heartbeat thrumming away in his hard dick. It felt fucking amazing; the way your tongue slid so expertly across his open mouth; the friction you offered by rolling your hips; the soft moans you fed him with eyes fluttered closed.

"W-Wait. Are you... um, there's something you should know." he gasped into you, cursing himself and the anxiety bubbling over his entire body. "I don't really... I've never... done anything like this. A-Are you sure you want to...?"

Oh, how deliciously you smiled down at him, taking the bold move of gyrating your core against the rock-hard bulge he currently hid from you. Air sucked into his lungs through gritted teeth and his fingers dug into your soft thighs, notes of pleasure shooting up his entire spine.

"I know, baby. Don't worry about anything, okay?"

Bertholdt nearly panted, adrenaline beginning to pump through his veins as you deftly pulled your shirt over your head.

"Just do whatever feels right. If we don't like it, we can try something else, okay? Trust me," taking his hands again, you gently placed them over the cups of your bra, watching as his eyes darted between your tits and your steamy gaze, "we'll take care of each other."

It took nearly no time at all for you both to be left in next to nothing. His hard cock bobbed slightly with the beat of his heart, the tip swollen and flushed and looking so eager. It was fun, posing Bertholdt around any way you wanted -- he dutifully listened to everything you said like gospel -- and you left him poised, sitting at the edge of his bed, waiting with bated breath for the next step. You took your time sliding your panties down, past the swell of your ass and over your thighs, smitten with the way he watched your movements so closely. He was so cute, manspreading on the mattress, wrist slowly rolling as he meekly rubbed his dick to the heart-stopping sight right in front of him. A pearl of precum beaded at the tip, rolling down his length as you approached like a vixen closing in on her prey.

"Lean back."

And he did. He opened his lap to you immediately, gaze heavy and curious as you climbed onto him again. Heat radiated from your core, sending shockwaves through his body as you dragged your slick folds over his ultra-sensitive cock. The brunette's jaw slacked, his hands flying up to grip your hips like a lifeline. Teasing him was too entertaining.

"You listen so well, Bertie. Are you ready, baby? Are you gonna be my good boy?" you planted your hands atop his strong shoulders, rolling your hips, pressing against his impressive and eager prick between you. Bertholdt could practically feel himself shake at your words. You fiddled with his cock beneath you, wrapping your fingers around it and stroking gently as you waited. A glimmer of playfulness twinkled beneath the lustful haze that laid over you both.

"I-I'm ready." he breathed.

"Tell me you'll be my good boy."

Bertholdt physically shivered then, his dick weeping pre into your hands, "I'm your good boy, I-- fuck-- I'll do anything, please," the certain whine that overtook his warm voice spurred you on like nothing else had. In one swift motion, you giggled and mounted Bertholdt's cock, sliding down just past the tip to watch his eyes roll to the back of his head in bliss.

Positively unreal -- Bertholdt could only hold onto your hips for dear life as you began to ride him, sliding up and down his cock like it was made for you to play with. The slick, pillowy walls of your cunt sucked him off in a beautiful rhythm, squeezing his meat and milking the cum straight from his balls. "Oh my God," he breathed heavily, unable to hide the needy moans absolutely spilling out from his gaped mouth. Humping and rutting up into your pussy desperately, he completely lost himself in the overwhelming sensations, eyes screwed shut despite wanting to engrave this memory forever. "I'm-- fuck, fuck --I'm sorry, I--I'm not gonna last."

The curve of his dick scraped against your spongey spot so perfectly that succulent moans jumped out of you with every bounce. The movement was hypnotizing, dizzying, forcing your face into the crook of his neck as you worked him into ecstasy. Flesh to flesh, your embrace was fiery, fingers tangling haphazardly into his hair. "That's okay baby, you've been so good," you whimpered into his ear, his hands crawling up to splay over your back and hold you tighter to his chest, "your dick feels so fucking amazing--"

With a broken moan, Bertholdt buried his face in your shoulder, fucking up into you with a newfound force. Pressure mounted in your core as his cockhead bullied into your cervix. "F-Fuck-- 'm cumming, I--" he whined, his body acting completely on its own. Stars danced behind his eyes with you bouncing on his lap, shaky fingers attempting to hold you down so he could bury himself as deep as possible, but the way your cunt milked him nearly knocked the air out of his chest. Cum shot deep into your core, settling heavy satisfaction in your heart with your nervous little boyfriend panting underneath you. His fingers slacked into a gentle hold, sweat dotting hot skin as he sucked in breaths.

Nothing could compare to the high he just experienced. Not the most engaging Netflix movie, not the wild parties Reiner used to make him attend in college -- as embarrassingly short as it was, he had fucked you, came inside you -- and it was real, not some hot and heavy fantasy he concocted while drowning himself in your scent.

Bertholdt Hoover was not a bad person or a bad friend. As time went on, Bertholdt Hoover proved himself to be the sweetest, most compassionate lover you could've asked for; Bertholdt Hoover was your shy, panty-sniffing good boy. You only wished you'd caught him in the act sooner.

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#bertholdt hoover #bertholdt x reader #attack on titan #aot #aot x reader #snk #snk x reader #shinjeki no kyojin

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practically-an-x-man · 5 months

Text

Steel Christmas

Gift for @vexic929 (Merry Christmas!) Characters: Berrie Thawne (Vexic's OC), Quinn (my OC) Word Count: 1.4k Content Warnings: gen fic, mentions of piercings and needles, swearing, absolute batshit assortments of pronouns

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"Your dad's gonna kill me for this..." Quinn drawled, lifting one hand off her crutch to push open the door. She winced as she did it - it was solid wood, too heavy for the light shove she gave it, and they winced at the twinge in their back. Berrie noticed and darted ahead, ducking under Quinn's arm to push the door open. They shot him a brief, grateful glance.

"What, for letting me have a needle jabbed into my face?" Berrie fired back, bouncing eagerly on her toes at the thought, "I've been through worse. And weirder."

"Yeah, but being the adult that condones you getting a needle jabbed into your face..." Quinn pointed out, once again shouldering her crutches and working her way into the piercing shop.

"Ooh, they do tattoos too! Maybe I should get a tattoo instead..."

Quinn scoffed.

"Absolutely not. Then your father might actually kill me." they muttered, recognizing the note of truth in the words. Berrie's father - or... pseudo-father, or however the hell that worked - was about the scariest person she'd ever met, and that was a tough bar to reach. Quinn glanced at the artwork along the walls, then back down at Berrie. "Have your friend do a stick 'n poke on you if you want one so bad. That's how I got my first ones."

"So you're fine with me getting a tattoo, but not if you have to pay for it?"

"I don't care what the hell you do with your body unless I have to be responsible for it." Quinn said, "I'm not signing off on a fifteen-year-old's tattoo. Especially when said fifteen-year-old's father could literally pull my heart out of my chest if he wanted to."

"But you'll sign off on a fifteen-year-old's new piercing."

"Sure. Pick your poison," she replied, waving a hand towards the diagrams pasted up on the far wall, "Anything outside the bikini zone."

"What if I want to get a belly button piercing?"

"Fine."

"What if I want to get shark bites?"

"I pity your dentist, but fine."

"What if I want to get a smiley?"

"I said bikini zone, not scuba zone," Quinn asked, sarcasm dripping like oil off the words, "I was thinking more like a helix or something, but if you really want a needle jabbed into your gums, go right ahead."

"Hm... the daith looks cool." Berrie decided, continuing to shift on her feet, "But eyebrow piercings look cool too."

They glanced over at Quinn, surveying her own array of piercings. She seemed to have half the chart in her ears, not to mention their nose ring and double-set of eyebrow piercings in their right brow. When she caught Berrie's eyes on her, she lifted that same eyebrow, and Berrie watched that silver barbell creep along with it in fascination.

"How bad did they hurt?"

"Ah, I'm a terrible metric for pain, kid." Quinn muttered, leaning back a little on their crutches, "Compared to the shit I've got going on, my tattoos might as well've been licked on by kittens. N' piercings are even easier."

"Hm. I know how that feels."

"Do you?"

Berrie nodded.

"Well, hallelujah," Quinn scoffed with the same biting sarcasm, "The youth of the nation, everyone. Fuckin' healthcare, I swear."

"I don't think I count as 'the youth of the nation'," Berrie pointed out, grinning up at the older person. He liked Quinn. She was fun. More fun than most of the adults they found themself around. "Technically I was made in a lab."

"And I fell off a goddamn Ukrainian high-rise," she shot back without missing a beat, "Story doesn't matter. They'll treat us like shit either way."

"Hm."

"So, daith or eyebrow?" Quinn asked, tilting their head back to the diagrams in the back of the studio, "Or both?"

"Both?"

"Sure, why not?"

Without another moment of hesitation, they tapped the call bell on the front desk and watched as a heavily-tattooed artist hustled out from the back of the shop. He approached the desk, offering the two of them a brief nod in greeting.

"Hey, folks, what are we looking for today?"

"A daith and an eyebrow for the kid," Quinn said, faintly nudging Berrie with her elbow, "And, uh... what's the heal time look like for a labret?"

"Six months, give or take," the artist responded, "And you can't smoke while it's healing."

"Damn." she muttered, "Ah, well, probably past time I quit anyway. I'll get the labret."

"You got ID, kid?" he said, turning to Berrie. Quinn waved a hand.

"Ah, she still needs to test for 'er drivers license. I've got it. I'm his aunt." she said, pulling out her wallet and presenting the man with an ID. Berrie couldn't tell if it was a real ID or not - it looked real, but they remembered Quinn saying she was legally dead once or twice, so it was more than likely a fake. If so, it was an awfully good fake.

The artist pored over it for a few moments, his eyes flicking from Quinn to Berrie to the ID in quick succession. He finally nodded, but fixed Berrie with a hard look.

"Do your parents know about this?"

"Of course they do," Berrie lied, "My dad was just too busy to take me himself. And he thought that Qui- uh, Aunt Q, would know better about where to go, since she's already got a bunch of piercings."

"Hm. Alright." he agreed, his dark eyes flicking back to Quinn, "Ten quid surcharge for minors. And you'll have to sign a liability form."

"That's fine." Quinn agreed, fishing through their wallet for a cluster of bills. She glanced down at Berrie for a moment, "Merry Christmas, kid."

"Thanks. You too."

Quinn scrawled their signature on a series of release forms - one for herself, one for Berrie - flipping the pen dexterously between their fingers as the artist looked them over.

"Says here you got no medical conditions," he said, firing a not-quite-subtle glance down Quinn's crutches and brace. She lifted her eyebrows disdainfully at him.

"Nothing that's gonna cause a problem with stickin' a needle in my lip."

The artist huffed, not exactly believing them, but finally scooped up the waivers and waved a hand towards the other end of the studio.

"Come on back, then. Who wants to go first?"

"Me!" Berrie blurted, before Quinn could get a single word out.

"Hm. Brave kid."

It wasn't Berrie's first piercing. Neither was it Quinn's. And so the whole process went by shockingly fast - iodine to needle to jewelry before they knew it - and neither of them so much as winced. Soon they were back on the street, making their way back to Quinn's car and the wrath of Eobard that surely awaited them.

"What'dya think?" Quinn asked, "Looks pretty badass to me."

"Oh, totally!" Berrie agreed, resisting the urge to touch the new studs. They still ached a bit, and he had to fight hard not to aggravate his eyebrow piercing by pulling too many facial expressions, but she was sure she'd just doubled- no, tripled - their level of badassery.

"My boyfriend's gonna be so pissed," Quinn mumbled, sounding a little amused at the thought. They ran their tongue gently along their bottom lip, causing the new metal barbell in their lip to wiggle.

"He doesn't like your piercings?"

"Fuck no," she laughed, tossing her head, "He loves my piercings. But he's gonna be bloody annoyed that he can't kiss me for six months."

"There are other places to kiss..." Berrie mumbled, not realizing Quinn had heard her until their eyebrows jumped up their forehead.

"Damn, kid! Hope you don't talk like that in front of your father," she chuckled, "Actually, you know what, I kinda do. That'd be a sight."

The car was parked at the side of the street, but Quinn brushed right past it and down the sidewalk. Berrie paused for a moment, vaguely confused, then jogged to catch up.

"Where are you going? The car's back there."

"Well, you're gonna want some jewelry for those new piercings, aren't you?" Quinn replied, pausing to look over at him, "How do you feel about emeralds?"

#i know i said it might take me a couple days but i had the idea and i wanted to make sure it wasn't too terribly long of a piece #my friends!!!#gift fic #my ocs #oc quinn/aces #vexic ocs #berrie thawne #oneshot #gen fic #my writing

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needygamergal · 12 days

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Animal crossing New lifestyle (fan idea)

New Horizons was good but I do have some small problems with it. Being able to choose our villagers and make them leave or stay by our will is very good…but it gets so painfully hard to choose just ten! Also when you have multiple tastes and want all kinds of themes it is hard to cram it all in one island. So what if we can have multiple towns we can decorate with different villages in each of them! We can organise the villagers into whatever town and if we want them to move out completely or move into another town of our own making! We can have separate towns that may have a modern look or a town with an old rustic look or even a spooky looking ghost town! We can make ten favourite squirrels of ours live in one town and call it Squirrels street! Another issue I had was of course the lack of unusual furniture, it’s hard to make a haunted house in new horizons… if we could have all of the old new leaf stuff AND new horizon stuff together in one game that would be just perfect!

This is a fan idea but I am hoping that maybe…just maybe if it gets enough attention then some or perhaps even all of these ideas will make it into the next game!

MULTIPLE SLOTS FOR TOWNS

We have a train much like in new leaf, we can also change the exterior of the train and change its color if we would like too. We use it to either travel to other player’s towns or to other towns of our own making. These towns will be smaller than the large island but still pretty spacious. I think being able to make up to 10 is a good number. 10 villages, 10 towns. Meaning you can choose up to 100! You can also name each town, street or lane and you can change the name too if you want too. You can terraform each area as well! You can also choose a biome for each, forest, meadow, beach, city or mountain. You can delete some and start a new slot fresh too is desired.

FACILITIES

I LOVE having the facilities in new horizons but I will say happy home designer did do it better as it had more to choose from. In each town you can choose whatever ones you want and place them where ever you want!

Choose from a list of making the following, a cafe, a restaurant, a grocery store, a clothing store, a toy store, or just a random store with anything you want, a library, a school, at theatre, a hospital, an arcade, a hotel, a crafting studio, a dance club and a gym! In each type it has its own dialogue for the characters. You can choose how many rooms each facility has, that way in the school you can have a locker room AND a principal’s office. You can choose what kind of feel it has so the villager’s may make comments on it sometimes. Does it feel normal, silly, cozy, cute, dirty or spooky! These will NOT change the look but what some villagers may say.

Example, spooky hospital you will have characters saying “Is it cold in here or is it just me…?” Or “I think I saw a ghost!” A dirty school you will have dialogue like “I found gum under my desk! That is so gross!” Or if it’s a lazy personality - “I found some free gum under my desk! This school is great.”

THE MAIN STREET

The Main Street is where all the default stores are, much like in new leaf there will be an area where you get your stuff that is separate from town. Tom Nook’s will be there, Kick’s shoe and bag shop, able sisters, the museum, the florist, happy home designers and perhaps some more NEW things! At Tom Nook’s you can help him expand it so it is bigger! There will be new items like new ingredients to buy for cooking, like chocolate, eggs, milk and basically a lot of the other things we couldn’t get from vegetables. A new store that would be wonderful would be a music store where you can buy some KK albums and some instruments and cassette players! It can be run by either KK himself or maybe a huge fan of his. In Leif’s florist you can now buy vases, pots and wrapping paper to make your own bouquets! You can either give these bouquets to friends or use them to decorate your home or perhaps even just hold them. Harvey’s Photo Booth will also be in the Main Street! In his Photo Booth it all functions the same as in New Horizons but with saved slots! You can use an app on your nook phone to save backdrops in the Photo Booth so you can simply bring all the decor back out if you want to reuse an old setting you had before. You can have about 300 for each room! You can also buy more pictures and frames from Harvey. Able sister’s will be about the same. Brewster will be there too of course! You can get some ingredients, already prepared meals and desserts, new recipes for cooking and of course some nice drinks! You can invite villagers there to join you as well.

JOBS

How about jobs? You can not only work as a happy home designer again but you can work at Brewsters as well! You can get paid lots of bells! You can also work at able sisters, Leif’s florist and even at Tom Nook’s! Each one has a little story and as you work you unlock more things available at their store! You can also help expand the store’s size! With happy home designer your job is to make vacation homes again but you can also decorate your own villager’s homes however you like again.

NEW NOOK APPS

We get the nook phone and it all seems the same but with more or course! In the designer app we have more slots than ever, complete with pages and pages to pick from and even a search bar! We can save hundreds perhaps even near a thousand of different designs, both special and normal. All is the same in the camera app but now you can decorate your picture using stickers! You can buy them at Nook’s or get them for helping villager’s. There are many different stickers to unlock! You can use the invite app so you can invite villagers to your place whenever you want, or you can invite them to the museum, shopping, just about anything! They will follow you everywhere until you say goodbye to them. You can also use amiibos with the invite app!

You can even invite multiple villagers to your home and host parties where you can dance with them and even hand out tasty treats you have made yourself (or purchased from Brewster). Sometimes these villagers may have conversations with each other while at your party!

YOUR HOME

You can choose to have your home anywhere you would like, in each town there is one slot for a free building you can use to decorate however you like. You can have multiple homes or you can have another slot where you can make another human villager to live there! But the train doesn’t ONLY go to your own streets and the Main Street…

There is one free meadow you can decorate and live in, you can turn it into a farm. It’s a private and remote place, villagers will not go there unless invited. You get one for each biome. Your private mountain, your private beach and your private forest. This makes it handy to gather extra materials and to farm plenty without taking up so much space in your towns.

You get lots of buildings of your own to do as you please but you have to select ONE as your real home. This is an easy thing that can be changed at any time. Although as you build each house in each area your storage gets bigger! You can have dozens of pages worth of storage, ten thousands of slots!

PLACES TO EXPLORE

Much like the mystery island we have mystery places to travel too. We can now go mining in caves with randomly generated maps to get gems and ore we can use for crafting or to sell for plenty of bells! We can go to islands again where we gather unique bugs and fish as well. Or we could even travel to old deserts where we dig up droids, fossils, bells and sometimes other treasures as well! We can go to randomly generated forests to cut down trees and collect randomly generated fruits, mushrooms, flowers and more! Sometimes…seasonal things will be there regardless of what season it really is in your time zone! For example, some random forests may have cherry blossoms even if it’s winter. This is a good way to try and farm a certain bug you want or a certain fish.

MORE OF THE SAME

We still have lots and LOTS of emotes to use whenever we please and can type and talk in the game! We can still send letters to villagers as well. We can still breed flowers as well. We have EVERYTHING good from the old games with great and amazing new things too! And of course everything from new horizons like the function of choosing our villagers.

NEW SPECIAL STUFF

We can now build a chicken coop to get eggs and a barn where we can milk cows. From what I noticed we have the villagers and then actual animals. So we get actual chickens and actual cows. We can also change the exterior of the barns and coops!

New villager species - BATS and LIZARDS!

Caves and mines to enter and explore!

Multiple villages on the same save slot so we don’t loose all our bells and can keep creating!

New hairstyles and all of the old hairstyles that ever existed!

Every bit of furniture that ever existed in one game and perhaps a few new ones too! I understand that they may never allow any pocket camp furniture to go into a switch game but…ALL of the others have gotta be included.

New ingredients we can buy to use for crafting and cooking! Chocolate, milk, eggs, marshmallows, caramel, herbs and more!

New things to grow and harvest, Cocoa beans, coffee beans, chilli peppers, tea leaves, strawberries, blueberries, raspberries, bananas (Idk why they weren’t in NH but I miss them), Mango (same with mangos), lemons, watermelons, kiwis, avocados, grapes, cucumber, ginger, garlic, corn, peas and more!

HAVING MULTIPLE VILLAGERS IN OUR MULTIPLE TOWNS, it is so hard choosing just ten villagers and choosing to mix only about two themes on just one little island.

Fun facilities we can decorate and have multiple of! Dance clubs, giant malls with stores we can choose what to be (toy, clothes, groceries, etc). To be able to have multiple restaurants all with different themes in each town we can make!

Thousands of designer app slots!

Being able to invite a villager to follow us around and to hang out with at any time with the use of an app!

Photo Booth with saved room slots so we can reuse old set ups in future photography!

Have our villagers be able to interact with furniture like in pocket camp! Use a swing, hug a teddy bear, etc.

If this could be like our next animal crossing game I will be so happy!

#animal crossing #Nintendo #Nintendo switch #ACNH #ac #video game #fan idea #animal crossing new lifestyle #cozy game #cozy games

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vizziefizzie · 2 years

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i’ll just leave these here ig

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smileygoth · 7 months

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1. The Monster In Me (WODtober 2023)

Vamptober 2023 begins - or as it's called this year, WODtober! (I prefer Vamptober, but oh well) Using the prompts I'm going to attempt to 'tell a vampire story', as Jason Carl so eloquently puts it on LA by Night! As with last year, I don't really know how it's going to turn out as I'm taking it prompt by prompt, so comments, suggestions and ideas for the final title are welcome! Entries will be collected on my Contents page as the month progresses.

Word Count: 483 words.

CW: Blood. Lots of blood.

Image from @worldofdarkness on Twitter.

Blood.

The taste was heavy in her mouth, coating her tongue, teeth, lips. The scent was all around her, overpowering, intoxicating. Her veins hummed with it, vitality flooding through her in a slow, comforting wave. Her fangs slid out slowly, instinct momentarily overcoming her sated appetite, then retracted to nestle comfortably in her gums. She stirred, stretching luxuriously, and opened her eyes.

Where am I?

Above her was a high ceiling of dull grey tiles. The floor she lay on felt like marble but wasn’t - some cheap imitation. Around her, walls of concrete painted in corporate grey. Floor to ceiling windows letting in the light from the streetlamps outside. A desk, behind which a glowing sign declared it to be ‘Harrogate Enterprises’. All of it, smeared and splattered with crimson.

She looked around her and saw the bodies. Security guards, a few people in business suits. She counted eleven in total. All dead. Some torn apart, others drained of blood, their skin shrivelling and turning grey under the bright fluorescent lights.

Did I do this?

The question seemed foolish even as she thought it. Their blood was in her mouth, in her veins .. and all over her hands and clothes, she realised as she looked down. In her shirt, directly over her heart, was a neat round hole, the skin beneath it puckered in a scar that was fading away as she watched, healed by the blood.

Did somebody stake me?

She looked up and again found her answer. A wooden crate, just big enough for a body to rest in, lay open near the doors, and next to it a long pointed piece of wood, the sharp end bloody.

But the next question that occurred to her was not so easily answered.

Who am I?

She searched for the answer, groping around in her mind, but it was like rummaging around in an empty box. Nails grating over the insides, irritating, coming up with nothing. She grimaced and dug in deeper.

The slowly swelling wail of sirens didn’t distract her from her thoughts, but the bright strobes of blue spilling through the windows did. She turned her head to look and saw multiple eyes staring in at her. Wide, horrified. Phones raised, camera flashes twinkling. Rough voices shouting at them to stand aside, get out of the way, police coming through.

Her name - of lack of it - forgotten, she let instinct take over. She scrambled to her feet, boots slipping on blood and the slick marble floor, and bolted to the back of the building. Office buildings seemed to all be built the same these days, and she found a fire exit with no trouble, shoving it open and racing out into cold winter rain, ignoring the blare of the alarm she’d triggered. It was way too late to be stealthy - she just needed to get away. As far away as possible.

#vamily #vampire the masquerade #vampire #vampirism #dark pack #world of darkness #vtm #vamptober #wodtober #wod

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sparklylovegiver · 11 months

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Original writing

So I am gonna start posting my original writing here. This story doesn't really have a name, but the vibe is 'college kids doing college shit', so if you like college AUs maybe this will be your cup of tea. All the characters are mine and this is really my first attempt to find any sort of audience for my own stuff instead of fanfiction so please be nice. That being said, say Hello to Ivy and Brad.

She was already annoyed when she sat down. It had been a long night, her anxiety for the new semester kept Ivy up far later then she wanted.. She pulled her project from her bag, knitting needles clicking away as she waited for class to begin. She glanced up occasionally, taking stock of the others coming into the class when she saw him. The guy was at least as tall as her, not something she saw very often, his blonde hair tucked under the backwards red baseball cap as he spoke intently to the old teacher. As he finished talking to the professor he turned to the room, eyes scanning as if he was taking his own inventory of the class. As he scanned his gaze found her and he stopped, head cocked slightly he almost looked amused. Ivy looked back down at the knitting in her hands, the hair on the back of her neck standing. She stole a glance back up, seeing his approach, and she sat up, her shoulders a little more square, her back a little straighter, her face a carefully trained uninterested as she heard his footsteps continue closer. He didn't sit next to her, instead sliding into the row in front of her, a few seats from the end. He was close enough for her to get a better look, Ivy's eyes being pulled back to him again. The guy had no bag in sight, his feet propped up on his desk as he leaned back, one of those toy spinners in his hands. He was close enough for her to see his jaw shift, chewing some kind of gum, and see white letters across the front of the cap. At a glance she huffed, of course he had picked sitting right in front of her. This kinda guy was the bane of her existence. The teacher began talking, introducing himself and running through attendance, before beginning the expectations of the class and a brief breakdown of the syllabus. Ivy had glanced at it, only half listening at the teacher explained his plans for the class.

"-and we'll spend probably a week covering the work of Immanuel Kant and transcendental idealism before moving on-"

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Ivy muttered to herself, stopping her knitting to sigh, "Fuck Kant." As she sat back she heard the guy stifle a laugh and she bit her tongue. 'Just don't engage,' she reminded herself, stealing another glance at him. He had pulled out one of those little cubes, the ones with buttons and switches on each side, but otherwise the teacher seemed to have his attention. Ivy could make out the words on his hat and she paused. 'Make America Skate Again' it read, and she wanted to chuckle. It could have been satire, making fun of the original red caps, or it could be a double back, satire of the satire, it was hard to tell with those kinda guys. She kept one eye on him as class continued, but he didn't turn around, the class taking his full attention. She began to wonder if maybe she had imagined the look he had given her before class, or the chuckle at her comment. When the class was dismissed, Ivy was carefully packing up her knitting when she heard it.

"Hey," she turned, the voice belonging to the guy in front of her, "what would you say if I asked to buy you a coffee?" He asked, a mischievous grin wide and her heart sank. She had seen grins like that before, right as guys like this pulled the rug from under her feet. It was her own fault, cocky fuck boys had always been her weakness.

Ivy scoffed, "I'd say 'I've heard this joke before, and I'm not interested in being a punchline again,'" she replied cooly, sliding her laptop into her bag before pivoting, walking out before he had a chance to respond. Her eyes stung but she bit the inside of her cheek. She had been dumb to think, even for a second, he might be different, especially before he spoke, and she was even more dumb to be disappointed. She shouldn't have been surprised, after all, 'asking the trans girl on a date only to stand her up' was a punchline she had felt more than once.

****

Brad was already forming a new plan when she walked away. Ivy. He had been paying attention during attendance, waiting to hear the name she would respond to so he could add it to what he knew. Her aesthetic had been enough to catch his attention, shoulder length dark hair, half pinned up, dark makeup to match. As he had gotten closer he could see her dark aesthetic stretched to her clothes, a knee length skirt, tights, tall boots, along with a band tee-shirt he only vaguely recognized, but what really caught him was the knitting. Whatever the girl was making was bright pink and his curiosity drew him closer. Brad didn't miss the way she tensed seeing him approach, sliding into the row in front of her, rather than next to her. Everything about her body language screaming Do not approach and a tiny part of him felt guilty. He hated the prospect of making any girl uncomfortable, but the bright pink project had caught him and his curiosity wouldn't leave him be. He focused on the teacher, trying to put names to the faces of his classmates and making mental notes over the syllabus when he heard her.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" He heard her mutter, the clicking of her knitting needles stopping as she huffed, "fuck Kant." Brad stifled a laugh and he could feel her eyes, as if daring him to say something. He fought the urge to turn to her, deciding the first day of class was probably a bad time to start an in depth discussion, but he needed to know more. His attention was divided after that, half listening to the teacher, half waiting for her to say something else. She was quiet the rest of class, the constant clicking of her knitting needles becoming like white noise. He could feel her looking at him and he resisted the urge to turn around. Maybe it was all in his head, but it felt like a test; could he leave her alone, despite his own desire to know more? It was as they packed up, the girl tucking her project into her bag, that his interest won.

"Hey," she turned, an eyebrow raised as she looked unimpressed. Her expression only stoked him, his grin wide as his heart sped up ,"what would you say if I asked to buy you a coffee?"

She scoffed, her voice like cold water, "I'd say 'I've heard this joke before, and I'm not interested in being a punchline again'," she replied, walking out before he could say anything.

#writing stuff #my writing #college romance #original writing #Brad and Ivy #queer characters

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beerecordings · 1 year

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Marvin's Brothers

I'm bringing him home, but I've got to take him right to the hospital. Needed to get him out of Germany, but he's not well.

What's wrong with him? Can I talk to him?

No, he's not up for it.

What's wrong with him?

Meet me at St. Margaret's. We'll get in around three in the morning.

I want to see him, send me a picture at least. You're scaring me.

Seen at 11:46 PM.

Marvin's hands quail as he checks his phone again, scrolling back through the message like a secret code might appear to tell him what's wrong. He switches tabs to an old picture of Henrik grinning, one he's had pulled up in the background since Jackie texted him back for the first time in months.

I got into a mess, I got into a big fucking mess and I couldn't get back to my phone for the longest time. But I found him, Marvin. He's alive.

Alive but not well. Marvin bites down hard on the nail of his thumb, feeling it bend between his teeth.

“I'm, um. Maybe a little worried about Schneep,” says Chase, adding a breathy laugh to the sounds of the late-night stragglers and rumbling cars moving around them. Marvin's gaze flinches over to him to find Chase flipping his cap repeatedly in his hands, his grin twisted up frenetically.

Fuck's sake, if Chase thinks that's a surprise admission, then maybe Marvin's actually hiding the gut-spinning anxiety shooting pains all the way up his back better than he thought he was. He considers Chase pretty emotionally intelligent, but if he hasn't noticed that Marvin's about to start breathing fire all over the pavement outside St. Margaret's like a bloated wyrm, they're probably both so stuck in their own heads you couldn't get them out with pliers and a bonesaw.

Dammit, he wishes JJ were here. He could really use his reckless son-of-a-bitch younger brother to help deal with his reckless son-of-a-bitch older brother, but it's out of the question. Jackie still doesn't know. Marvin couldn't even begin to imagine how to text him the news, and soon he'll have to tell him, to his face, that his precious baby brother –

Okay, okay, okay. Son-of-a-bitch indeed. One thing at a time, Marvin, holy shit.

“You know Henrik,” he manages finally, slinging an arm around Chase's shoulder. “Tough as jerky. He'll be okay.”

“Anti's had him for nine months,” Chase whimpers back. It's almost his I-just-got-off-the-phone-with-Stacy-and-she-wants-me-to-drug-test whine, but a little less self-pitying. “He could have done anything to him.” “'Anything' is not worth thinking about, amata. He'll be here soon and then we'll know for sure.”

And then we can stop imagining Anti putting nails through his gums, won't that be nice?

If he pukes right here outside the hospital, do you think someone would come check on him, or would the nurses just blink at him from the windows?

His phone buzzes and he scrabbles at it.

Jackie: They checked us in, room 312

“How the hell did he get past us?” cries Chase, jumping off the bench so suddenly his phone falls out of his pocket and he has to go ducking after it. “Goddammit, goddammit.”

Marvin pushes past him and into the hospital, approaching the receptionist's desk like he just might flip it. He can feel his own heat, knows he looks like he's running a fever, knows he could have frost in one hand and flame in the other in a second if he wanted to, Marvin, you have to keep it the fuck together.

“Hi,” he breathes, eyes flashing. “I'm here to see my brother in 312.”

He gets a visitor form and then Chase takes it from him with a tentative look. Marvin's head swims.

“You're hot to the touch, Marvel,” Chase whispers.

“I'm under control, I'm fine.”

“Are you angry at Jackie?”

“No.”

“Angry at Anti, then, I get it,” mumbles Chase.

And Marvin doesn't have the heart to tell him that he's not angry at all, just scared.

The elevator buzzes like a fly. Marvin closes his eyes. His phone grumbles again.

JJ: Any update?

Marvin pockets his phone without answering and steps out of the elevator behind Chase. Room 310. Holy hell. He's right here, just two doors away.

And Jackie's right there outside of it, blank-faced, standing up beside the door and staring at the wall.

“Jackie!” screams Chase, and he launches himself at him. Jackie jolts up from some haze inside his head and turns, eyes fixing on Chase, and then his arms lock around him too, and Jackie picks Chase fully off the floor, breathing out a sigh as loud as a cry as he presses their heads together and squeezes him.

Marvin finds he has no reaction to it at all. He moves past Jackie without touching him and presses open the door to room 312.

“Hey, I said to wait outside for a moment,” reprimands the nurse by the bed. “You...”

She cuts herself off and Marvin knows she's realized he's not Jackie. It doesn't matter.

“Henrik.” The word comes out of him unauthorized. Didn't mean to say it.

“You must be the other brother,” says the nurse finally. “I'm done, just try not to disturb him.”

He waits for her to leave, and she does, giving him a look he can't care to decipher. He steps towards the bed.

“Henrik,” he repeats, like he expects him to reply. But that's stupid. Henrik's so... so far away. He feels it like a physical distance. Like he could reach out and keep walking forever, and he still wouldn't ever touch him. Never ever ever. “Henrik, come here, it's me.”

He's unconscious on the hospital bed.

“If you get up, we'll go home,” Marvin says. “Henrik.”

“Marvin. Hey.” Hands grab his shoulders, hold him steady. “They medicated him. Let him sleep.”

Marvin turns and sees Jackie looking at him. His brother has a mottled bruise all down the side of his face, and he's so wan he could probably pass out on command. He looks older, too. So much older. Marvin reaches out and touches him, just with the pads of his fingers, just brushing across his cheek, and then his bedraggled beard.

“You did bring him home,” he whispers.

Jackie bites down on his mouth. “I'm sorry it took me so long. I'm sorry I stopped answering, I just... phones weren't safe.”

“Uh-huh,” Marvin manages wisely.

Chase is pushing past both of them, curling over Henrik to touch him. “My brother, my brother,” he half-sobs. “What happened? He's so cut up, did Anti – Jackie, please, he – ”

Jackie leaves him to tend to Chase, and Marvin sinks into a chair by the door. He doesn't think he can get any closer. Didn't he tell these fuckers to stop getting sent to the hospital? If Henrik were awake and reaching out for a hug, he would say that out loud, and it would make Henrik smile. Didn't I tell you, you little fucker? You're only allowed inside hospitals if you're working in them.

And he'd give him a kiss on the side of his head that meant mein schatz, thank God you're here. I cried so much for you.

But Henrik's not awake.

“Found him locked in a bedroom,” he can hear Jackie explaining, in this soft tone he seems to have been practicing, unnatural for somebody who's meant to be so loud, like a lion that starts singing arias. “Blood on the floors, but just sitting in a blanket with his glasses broken on his nose, eating cashews and painkillers. It was when we were getting away that his leg...”

Marvin closes his eyes.

“How'd you get on a flight with his leg like this?” Chase asks.

“We took trains. And a boat.”

“What?” Marvin demands, eyes snapping back open. “Are you kidding? He's been this hurt and you didn't fly him out here?”

“I had to get him out of Germany,” Jackie shoots back. “He wasn't getting on a plane with that leg, and they're too easily traceable anyway. On trains you can steal other people's tickets or slip onboard, if you're careful. Anti thinks we're still hiding out in Munich, and the longer he's looking there, the better.” “He would have been better off in Germany going right to a hospital. You should have called me out there. I would have hidden you like I hid Sean. I can weave those spells in an hour.”

“No way. We were in enough danger without bringing you in too. He would have grabbed you the second you were in the country.”

“They've got him on fucking oxygen and you took days to get him medical help?”

“Guys, are you kidding me? Don't fight,” snaps Chase.

Marvin stares at Jackie. Jackie stares back. His posture's so tight, so worn. Marvin feels his own shoulders sink a little. His big brother. His Jackie.

“You missed each other,” says Chase softly. “Give each other a hug.” It says a lot about the kind of brother he's been since they lost Henrik that Jackie just reaches out like he might pat Marvin on the shoulder or something equally repressed, but he's past caring. He's not that person anymore. Jackie's missed so much, and Marvin... where does he even start?

His eyes are burning. He can't believe he's lecturing Jackie about medical decisions when he was the one who... the one who was here while JJ...

“Marvin?” asks Jackie, bewildered to see him starting to cry.

“Jackie,” groans Marvin, and he steps towards him and falls into his arms, sobbing.

For a long moment, Jackie just wraps around him, like a tree growing around a corpse.

And then:

“Something's happened,” Jackie whispers. “What's happened?”

“JJ wanted to be there when we told you,” Chase says.

And well, if Jackie had any color left in his face, it's gone in that moment.

A stir from somewhere behind him raises Marvin from his brother's shoulder, and Chase sits up too, immediately attentive. “Schneep?” he whispers, reaching out to touch his hand.

Henrik yanks his hand back, blinking. He stares around at all of them with dazed, round eyes.

“Henrik.” Marvin ducks towards him, hands outstretched. “You're here, you're here. It's – it's me, love. You're safe here. Jackie brought you home.”

Henrik just stares at him, reaching up to touch his own head. Chase reaches forward again, but again, Henrik rears back.

“Schneep, are you with us?” asks Chase softly.

And he just... looks.

He just looks.

Marvin smiles frailly at him. “Henrik,” he says again.

Henrik's gaze falls away. He looks around the hospital room. He doesn't say anything. His mouth is slightly parted, his eyes glassy.

No... guarded. That's the word Marvin's looking for. His eyes are guarded, flashing in all directions. Chase tries to come towards him one more time, and Henrik holds his hand out in warning, as though pushing him back telekinetically, his lip pulling back into a snarl, soundless. He shakes his head slowly, once, twice, thrice. A rhythm. He keeps shaking his head, back and forth, back and forth, slow. Like there's music in his head, and nothing outside it.

Marvin and Chase both turn to Jackie together. Chase grips Marvin's hand for a second, and it's clammy against his own.

Jackie won't look back at them. His shoulders are shaking. His hands are clenched into fists.

“He hasn't been himself,” he whispers, something dark and heady as a riptide beneath his voice. “Chase, stay with him. Marvin, take me to James. Now.”

Marvin tries to sit him down when he starts screaming, but he can't make him stop.

“My baby!” Jackie howls, reaching for him, trying to grab at him, but JJ just backs away, because he's trying to sign, and Jackie doesn't know that. Jackie doesn't speak BSL. “Who did that to you, who did this? Not this, not you too!”

“Jackie, Jackie,” Marvin cries. “He's trying to talk to you! The hole in his throat – it's medical, okay, he's okay – ”

“Cut my brother open,” Jackie screams. “Someone cut my brother open. How could you let this happen? Jameson! Jameson! No, talk to me!”

JJ's been keeping it together so well. Been so calm, so determined. But Jackie starts screaming his name and Marvin sees his eyes well up, his face scrunch, his lip tremble.

“I love you, I love you,” he's signing, over and over again. “Please listen to me. It's okay. I'm okay with it.”

“Please say something,” Jackie shrieks, grabbing his shoulders, and then his face, and then his hands, face red as a salt-heavy Indian sea. “Please tell me this isn't true.”

Marvin tries to shove his way between them. “He's trying to talk,” he insists, and he's got to be calm, he knows he's got to be calm, but he can't, because Henrik's far away even in the hospital, and JJ's trying so hard, and Jackie can't take it, and it's all Marvin's fault, all your fault, you know exactly how you treated him, how you hated him, how you prayed he would be gone and Henrik would be here instead. All your fucking fault.

“You were supposed to be safe here, Marvin was supposed to keep you safe,” sobs Jackie. “Not this, not this! Say something! Jameson! Jameson!”

“He's trying!” Marvin screams back. “Jackie, you're scaring him!”

Jameson starts sinking to his knees, eyes squeezing shut in despair. Jackie lurches to grab him, scooping him off the floor and dragging him against his chest, crying and screaming into his shoulder.

“Talk to me! Talk to me! Say something, please, Jameson! Jameson! Jameson!”

Marvin sinks to the floor against the couch, covering his face with his hands, and his magic pours out of him in a flood of water, beginning to rain from the ceiling above them, soaking their living room. Jackie dry-heaves, begging between gasps of air, begging for Sean's forgiveness, for this to stop, for this not to have happened, he's sorry, he's sorry.

"Marvin was supposed to keep you safe," weeps Jackie. "Please say something, please, Jamie, I love you."

JJ sobs too, but it doesn't make much noise. Just breathy bids for air, and his tears hitting the floor alongside the rain.

#marvin's brothers #snippet sequel? you guys remember this fic? a classic #tw hospitalization #tw cancer mention #bee writes

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minbomoment · 2 years

Text

FOXNOCH FLUFF !!

ORIGINAL CHARACTERS/WORLD (credit to @enochoxide for enoch + the world itself, they’re so cOOL /gen)

tags: f l u f f ig, there’s like,, funny imagery to do w eyeballs at one point and fox also threatens to pickle him (don’t ask), (i’m one of those annoying writers who believe grammar doesn’t exist lol sORRY IG), ALSO NOT PROOF READ

summary: enoch isn’t one to sleep, so foxtail tries to keep him company

word count: 1781 (aSTER I AM SO SORRY LMAOO)

—-

pulling an all nighter should be easy, right ? welcoming the company of the glistering stars above and the blissful silence that settled with dusk - what more could one ask for ? it should’ve been easy to swap the bustling noise of orkwell for its tranquil counterpart and take it all in, or that was what foxtail thought.

the steady tune of her heavy heeled boots against the cobbled path echoed across the hushed streets she gazed upon, views almost unrecognizable under the night - leaden yet glossed in dewy moonlight. her steps created a methodic rhythm, a small hum leaving her lips as she hugged her arms close to her chest while grasping onto her cloak in a weak attempt for warmth. it was late. no remainders of life to be seen across her journey as she made her way to her destination, heavy silence egging fox on to pick up her pace. foxtail never understood how enoch could stay up with the stars so effortlessly. perhaps they made better companions than she did, or he’d prop his eyelids up with toothpicks, hunched over his alchemy notes and scribbling words in ink. fox let out a snort of laughter just at the thought, shaking her head in mocking disapproval of herself. it was only 1am, yet the late hour had already taken a toll on foxtail as she covered her mouth and stifled a yawn.

as she finally approached the tower, that small smile still drawn against her coloured lips grew, quick to make her way to the entrance, practically skipping in excitement. regardless of whatever chaos was brewing at the top of that tower, it was always home. more of a home than most family had offered her anyway, not that she’d mention it. the peculiar smells of potions and their ingredients. mountains of notes and alchemy books sprawled across desks. the calming sounds of bubbling and brewing. bliss. peace. it was never an inviting place to be around to at first. but as fox grew familiar with its sight, the rugged exterior, seemingly left in tatters, was nothing but perfect imperfection to foxtail - especially when it left her with such a warming sense of emotion.

arguably, it was just like enoch redmond himself. where deep behind the snarky attitude and diabolical ways, she found a soul within that gave her the sense of home she had always desired. BAWLING MY EYES OUT)

—-

hastily, foxtail entered the tower, scurrying up its crooked staircase with light footsteps, silenced for the sake of surprise. she felt like she knew them like the back of her hand, all the right steps to take, all the floorboards to avoid. as she grew closer to her target, a giddy, childish grin beamed from her lips, pearly whites and all. she was gonna scare the life out of him. fox could picture him now, nose buried in a book held in one hand while absentmindedly swirling a potion in the other. struggling to keep in her giggles as she fluttered across the last few steps, foxtail was too drunk on giddy excitement to notice her plan had already been so effortlessly foiled the moment she stepped foot inside.

alas, there enoch stood in all his glory, leaning against the doorframe which led on to his room with a small, cocky smirk of amusement. his arms were folded across his chest, the sleeves of his lab coat withered from years of dutiful service.

“boo.” enoch uttered mockingly, a monotonous tone drawling from scarred lips, exposed gums twitching upwards into a suppressed smile.

it almost sent foxtail tumbling back down the very steps she came, a short yet high pitched yelp escaping from her lips which immediately lead to her slapping her hand over her mouth in shock of herself screaming. poor foxtail’s heart almost leapt out of her very chest, fear-struck iris’ widened and frozen in place watching the cackling corpse in front of her.

enoch clutched his stomach as a maniacal cackle tumbled from his lips, head tilting back as his reams of laughter filled the nighttime’s silence. fox remained still as enoch laughed, hand still covering her mouth yet alongside it - the growth of a sunny smile as it sunk in, leading for her to wearily laugh alongside him. her eyes relaxed with their usual shining demeanour, watching him as he composed eventually.

enoch shook his head a little, adjusting the tinted goggles that rested against his tousled dark hair, “C for effort.” taking a step, he removed her hand away from her mouth (which she had completely forgot about in the moment) by grabbing her wrist gently, revealing her smile of disbelief that was briefly followed by a playful punch to the arm.

“i ought to pickle you in a brine one day.” she fake threatened with a mocking glare. enoch snorted, dropping her wrist and making his way back to the room where he emerged, keeping the door open. foxtail followed, “jerk. how did you know it was me?”

enoch spoke with a cheeksome look plastered across his face, closing the door behind her. “you’re lucky i did or i’d have sawed a limb off like some real intruder. plus you’re awful at holding in your laughter, i-” he was interrupted by his own train of thought, turning to face the girl and tilting his head in curiosity, “wait, why are you here this late? ”

there was the question. the question that, truly, foxtail didn’t have a real answer compiled for. “you. was just passing nearby.” it was followed by a simple shrug. “though i have f a r better people to spend my time with.” foxtail joked, unlatching her cloak and draping it around her usual spot, a timeless oak frame chair just beside his main desk, before plopping down on it herself.

“i’ve witnessed you barely keep a conversation with yourself, fox. unsurprisingly unlikely.” enoch retorted, walking over to said desk and to the opposite side where all his notes were littered in organised chaos, eyes glued to his most current project that was bubbling away softly under a safe flame. “couldn’t sleep?”

a weak smile drew her lips as the adrenaline of before already began to sink. “y-yep! it’s alright… the walk here was lovely. it was really-“

enoch cut her sentence short, “peaceful?” after being answered with a nod, enoch’s dark eyes briefly met hers, watching in curiosity for a few moments before snapping back to his work, “once the late nighters head home, it’s always like this. it’s nice.”

foxtail nodded once more in response, stifling another yawn as she tucked herself close to the desk and crossed her arms onto its surface, creating a pillow of sorts to rest her chin on. it used to throw enoch off quite a bit, but he had eventually gotten quite used to it, along with the majority of foxtail’s weird little quirks. her violet iris’ watched every move intently through the golden rimmed frames that sat on her nose, silent as a mouse as to not disturb the grand master at work. a pretty smile graced her lips. it was a comfortable silence that enveloped the two, one that dragged on for hours, cut only by the occasional query of inquisition - including in there were any snacks around.

—-

“still don’t get why you’re here, fox. you should be asleep. you… you can.” enoch muttered as if to himself after a long moment of hours silence, adding a dash of sage to his mixture. foxtail in response, tilted her head, drowsy eyes glossed over in weariness yet content. her exhaustion got the best of her, mumbling in response with a dazed, loveable smile and almost closed eyes that gazed upat him through thick lashes.

“i just always feel so bad… it must suck not being able to sleep. but then, you should have someone around to keep you company. it’s only right. i’ve been trying to stay awake at night to join you for aaaaaaaaaaaaages..” foxtail paused before snorting a little laugh, “kept falling asleep. but i made it out the house without collapsing outside my door again today! a-HA !”

“you whAt-“

foxtail in response burst into a fit of giggles, muffling them by burying her head in her arms, leaving the t i n i e s t of smile’s to bud on the other’s scarred face. it really did sound foolish when saying it aloud, but she never regretted any of it. nothing. not the heights or the lows - no matter how low they truly got. this was but a small token of her gratitude, and all fox could hope was that it shone through and reached that rotten old heart of his.

—-

another hour or so had passed and at last, enoch deemed his latest mix successful. it was a simple trick with the regeneration in fauna, or at least the reversal of it. enoch found it satisfying, watching in a daze as the lively array of test plants on his desk withered in their pots, being drained of their colors petal by petal. sure, they were a present from fox herself, but she’d only just get him more in response. it was the way she was, and enoch almost found himself rather,, glad.

turning to share the good news, enoch was met with an unsurprising site. propped up against her crossed arms, foxtail’s eyes were closed, dreaming, most likely. her head was rested against one of her arms, unkempt blue locks sprawled behind her. her nose would scrunch softly from time to time, her soft breathing indicating she had been fast asleep for some time.

she looked so … peaceful. her pointed ears were appeared drooped in comfort, sharp elfish features and bronzed skin highlighted by the soft glow of the candles that illuminated the room with the exact welcoming feeling and glistening aura that foxtail brought along with her everywhere. wasn’t there beforehand.

enoch stared at his sleeping companion for a brief moment, poking her just to make sure she truly was asleep, only to be met with some jumbled, sleepy mumbling about cheese bread and pink knights. he was careful not to burst into laughter, instead shaking his head and walking away. he’ll be sure to pester her about that later. swiftly returning with a blanket, enoch hesitated before draping it across her shoulders, watching fox snuggle against its warmth subconsciously and mumble under her breath.

“mmm, thanks…”

with one last look, enoch sighed softly before turning back to his work. not one of irritation or vexing. one of … calmness. he hasn’t felt that in a while.

neither of them had.

#oc tag #oc fluff #first post #drabble #in luv w these two

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