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howyouloveyourdragon · 4 months

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Hi there, I absolutely adore you and love your writing and I'm excited that you're writing for jace now.

If it's okay, could I please request the prompts sleepy - number 44.

Have an amazing morning, afternoon, evening 💖💖

hi there! thank you so much, you have no idea how sweet you are for sending such a polite ask, and for your prompt “I’ll sleep when I’m dead.” by thelonelyempath!

i definitely put you up high on my priority list for being so kind lol your message made my day

i also just really enjoyed writing this, it got me back into my groove.

have an amazing morning, afternoon, evening yourself and here you go, please let me know if you enjoy it! <3

No Rest For The Dragons

Prince Jacaerys Velaryon x reader Setting: During The Dance of The Dragons Summary: All is quiet but no sense of peace can be caught between your fingertips, not even at night and so it is difficult to find sleep. Not until you win the war and crown your prince victorious...Your betrothed, Jacaerys, seems to have other priorities. Warnings: Brief talk of war dividers by: saradika wordcount: 1,412

A yawn tumbled past your lips with ease and a quiet whine quickly followed. Jacaerys Velaryon had never found anything more sweet in his entire existence but he wouldn’t tell you that…not yet at least. His eyes flickered over your sleepy face, the squished cheeks and rumbled hair. It made his heart throb, a desperation took hold to tighten his chest and squeeze. Slowly, he tucked his lower lip between his teeth and bit down. He could barely contain himself from cupping your jaw and pressing a kiss to those lips. His sleeping beauty…his beautiful briar…he would need to bring you a rose soon just for the sake of it because he never did think there was a world in which you were not his Aurora. Some universe in which he didn’t long for you. The backs of his fingers carefully caressed your face. The skin was so soft–practically begging for him to lay upon his gentle pecks of devotion–and yet he restrained himself. You may be his betrothed but you are not yet his wife. He must recall that, if he is to keep your honour…A grunt peeked through his teeth at the thought. The thought that anybody could see you as anything less than a guide of honour and duty as you fought at his side, on his very dragon with a bow and arrow within your hands. A quiver danced along the prince’s bones. He may think you to be beautiful in any state but he would gladly gift upon you anything you so much as dreamed or desired if you were to allow that to be his final sight. His last. The sight of you upon Vermax and casting down the enemy.

A smile flittered his lips as you stirred and stretched in his lap. “No, no go back to sleep.” He cooed, brushing back your hair and placing a wet flannel at your forehead. You were in your gentlest state this eve. You fended off his hand like a weak squirrel to reluctant avail. “Rest my love. You must rest.” The whine escapes the seam of your mouth before you can escape it. “I’ll sleep when I’m dead.” You practically taunt with your eyelids finally parting to peer up at him. As much as he wants to scoff and argue, he cannot help but smile down at the soft albeit exhausted face. Amusement laces his face but he lets his brow pinch. “I’m afraid I won’t be able to allow that.” You send a pointed look his way. “You would deny your wife?” “You would deny your prince?” He counters with playfulness and yet something excites him about the way ‘wife’ leaves your lips. How smoothly it goes…It only reminds him of how long he has deprived himself of kissing them. Of feeling the sweet flutter of lightning that would passes over your skin. His hand would dance throughout your hair, he was sure of it, sure that one the day of your wedding, he would summon all the strength he had been willing himself to retain and finally let go. He would deny himself for centuries if it meant you would let him bind himself to you for eternity–if you would let him vow until his throat dried up. If they were not to be his final words, he would repeat them until they were destined. He would be yours, he was sure of it. He does not say this of course as you sigh with a pointed stare.

It was the determination in your gaze that he adored above all. That very crinkle in your brow that arose whenever anybody were to question you. His throat bobs as he recalls how his hand would slide along to the small of your back–support from the true prince and heir of the iron throne–delighting as you took the lead. Happy to await your debates cease as you charged your mouth at any who claimed your position unfit. None of these men knew the battlefield as you did. None of these men had studied the art so intensively for this very moment. None of these men would protect him like you did, he was sure of it. And certainly none of them had helped teach him the ways of battle so that he could protect his own hide should something go askew. Now as he watches you, he lets his eyes wander along the small scars upon both your hands at such teachings. Your childhood together had been an entertaining ordeal; scars of book pages, scars of dragon mishaps, scars of blades…He wouldn’t trade those tiny indents for the world. He would not even trade for the oncoming victory of his mother’s crown. He would not.

Instead, Jacaerys’ breath hitches but he does not complain at your defiance. He welcomes it. “My darling, you must rest if you are so determined to fight beside me.” His words are teasing but the plummet of hardness cannot be unheard. He had always been serious. “I cannot allow myself the sight of injury should you–” His throat bobs but you hardly change your mind. “It could cause injury to you should I not properly plan our route.” The retort jumps from your tongue and he can tell this has been boiling for some time now, that the bubbles were ever-present. You’ve been locking this inside your mind for too long now. Far too long. His curled fingers glide down your cheek before stopping at your chin. He lifts it as delicately as he would a broken leaf and gazes sweetly into your eyes. “You can do this well rested. We have time.” “But what if–” “We have time.” He reassures you with the confidence of his ancestor, King Jaehaerys The Wise. Your shoulders slump reluctantly. You should trust him, you know you should–you are so very tired but the night is still relatively young and the troupes must still be waiting outside for you. Jace catches as your eyes track the opening of the tent and he is quick to soften you. “I told them we would resume our meetings tomorrow. You will not miss a thing, my sweet. I swear it to you.” His gentle kiss presses to your temple–one of the few acceptable places he can express such affections. When he pulls himself back, he lingers. Tentative, he waits. His eyes flicker to yours with unabashed uncertainty. “But first you must swear to me that you will rest.” Heat floods your cheeks but you have never shied away from eye contact before and you refuse to do it now. His eyes close and his breath fans over your lips. “Swear it to me.” He repeats through the air of a whisper. “I swear it.” You utter just as quietly, curling your palm around his hand and pressing a long, warm kiss to the knuckles. Jacaerys would be lying if he said that it was not a relief. He could not remember the last night you slept in where you did not awaken suddenly and draft a new strategy. That you did not recall a new route. One that needed your immediate and unrestrained attention.

And so as the night calls out for you, your soon-husband’s arms slip around you and one loops beneath your legs until he can haul you against him. His breath stutters as he inhales the scent of your hair. His lashes flutter against one another and he takes a few steady steps through the tent. Loving each other had taken its time. It had taken screaming arguments, jealousy, rekindling…but it had also taken laughter and warmth and kindness. Kindness that neither of you thought to be deserved. It had taken the darkest eves and the most golden mornings. He settles you on the plush mattress this night, and brushes back the uncomfortable strands of hair that cling to your skin. Your neck, your face, even the petals of your lips. He cannot blame them for craving your closeness. He hesitates as you close your eyes and your back squirms into place. For only one moment more, he lets himself take in a portrait of your rest. Jacaerys Velaryon, Prince of Dragonstone, Son of Rhaenyra and future King of the Seven Kingdoms accepts that he craves for nothing but your warmth. He intends to keep you as safe as this every eve, every nightfall.

One sleepless night after the next, he shall be your rest.

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icanseethefuture333 · 5 months

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Random ass question, but what do you think is the best way for a 4/10 girl to become at least a 7 out of 10? I’m aware that “beauty is subjective” but I’m literally below average, 4/10 is being lenient for me lol

How to have confidence in your physical appearance 🎀

First of all sweetie,

let's not rate ourselves on a scale about how pretty we are! It's really degrading and I feel like you deserve so much better than that. Living in a generation where filters are oversaturated, people using AI to edit their photos, and incels with porn addictions and have never felt the touch of a woman, will call the most beautiful girl "mid". It's so understandable why one's self esteem can feel low at times. You need to change the way you talk about yourself (especially me). Beauty always start from within - as redundant as that sounds. You can't feel pretty if you're not focusing on the reason why you feel this way. A pretty soul (and self concept!) makes a prettier face. Moving on, let's get into the actual tips of a glow up 💖

Let's address the elephant in the room 🐘: you're not ugly, just acting pitiful

Have you ever wondered why you have seen those people who are considered "unattractive" or "unconventionallly pretty" by others be in successful relationships or popular with their peers? It's because they have confidence. Have you ever been attracted to someone that may not necessarily fit the beauty standards or be considered a jaw dropping model, but you thought they were cute anyways because of their personality or charm? That's exactly what I mean. You can be a pretty face or have a nice body, but have terrible self esteem. Living in California my whole life I come across this everyday. There is plenty of beautiful people here, but there is also a lot of people with no sense of humor and no offense, but have no personalities. In other words, you can be attractive, but superficial and boring.

To feel beautiful or more like a "10" even on your worst day is mainly having a good self concept. You need to think with the mindset of "I am the baddest bitch even on my worse days and nobody can make me feel different about that, not even me." Our concept can be changed, reshaped, rebuilt, morphed, etc, into any way we want it to be. Our self concept and dominant thoughts are created by our previous past experiences and what people have told us what we are. For example, if you were bullied in your youth and somebody picked on you for your features. Why would you give a fuck about what a bully thinks??? A person who humiliated and traumatized someone at a weak point in their life does not matter. Their opinion, their actions, their thoughts - doesn't matter. You can change yourself anytime you want, we are animals, we are literally mean to be apart of this cycle called life and our habits, attitudes, opinions, etc, can change at any moment. We are meant to grow and adapt. You get to decide who you are, what you feel, and how you wish people to perceive you. Nobody else. So when you repeatedly say things to people like "I'm not beautiful", they're gonna get tired of it honestly and be like "Yk what damn bitch I guess you are ugly!" because it gets tiring to hear someone complain about the same thing even when they just reassured them (again, I'm guilty of this too). So when you depend on someone to make you feel good about yourself, that's just codependency. You are also giving them the power to manipulate you. Don't do that. Be free and be independent, love yourself. It's your self esteem and you cannot be dependent on anybody else to fill that void you have within yourself.

As Katt Williams said, "It's the esteem of your motherfucking self!"

Why it's not your fault you don't 'feel" pretty

Like I said above, you are most likely a product of your surroundings. Most people are not raised by their parents to have good self esteem or to teach them how to be confident or emotionally secure. There are many environmental factors to insecurity and that it is okay if you are never 100% feeling confident about yourself. People in the media construct this ego to seem "cool" and act conceited as a way to avoid being seen as weak to society. You can be confident and also have insecurities. Confidence is just about being secure with the essence of who you are and setting boundaries when necessary with other people when it comes to that. A confident person doesn't tolerate disrespect.

"Conceited" or confident?: how to avoid confusing the two

I think the most irritating thing to me that is normalized these days is narcissism and conceited people. People will literally act boastful and cocky then say "I'm just confident". Behaving like a narcissist or saying that you are one is not cute and never will be because it's literally a personality disorder, a mental health condition. Everytime I hear this it makes me want to roll my eyes so far back into my head. Try to avoid being this person with a "God complex" because there's a difference between a person who is being loud and fake with "confidence". A real confident person makes moves in silence and is genuine with themselves. If you have to brag or put another person down to feel like hot shit, then you're not a confident person, period.

Tips to enhance your beauty

As I said before anon you are already a 10 in my eyes, but I understand how it feels to not feel pretty at times and we all have our days when we are looking "rough". Here are some self care tips I do that helps me feel pretty and pampered physically ✨️

Get some beauty sleep! This is not just a saying. When your body has time to rest it gives you time to reset & have more energy for the next day. Getting plenty of sleep helps prevent dark circles & puffy eyes as well. If you struggle with falling asleep spray lavender pillow spray, drink tea, or play asmr/soothing sounds.

Skincare & hygiene, this is such a crucial step that everyone should practice in their daily lives. All of us have different skin textures and when we neglect our skin it causes a dry, oily, or bumpy surfaces. Now skin texture is totally normal but if you notice the days where you are not washing your face frequently enough, your skin either looks dull, dirty, or you experience more pimples / acne breakouts. Not to mention how dirty we feel when our body is projecting a certain odor. You don't need to have an extravagant routine, but at least try to have about 4 hygienic products (soap, deodorant, lotion, & body spray/prrfume) and 4 skincare products (facial cleanser (I recommend double cleansing!), serum, SPF/Sunscreen, & face lotion).

Mirror work, saying affirmations in the mirror has proven to be helpful for people's self esteem & feeling more confident with their physical appearance.

Change your wardrobe! Start dressing for your body type & how your ideal self would. It might feel uncomfortable at first but you will feel so much more beautiful! You could try finding videos on tiktok of people with your body type to help (for example, if you are plus sized, you could search your desired aesthetic & find people with the same shape as you).

Detox from social media 📱, learn when it is time to take a break from your phone & engage with the real world. Scrolling for hours on your phone can be really harmful especially if you're reading negative comments or watching videos that are self depreciating.

Follow people who uplift you, not tear you down. If you are following people who obviously are negative or affect your self esteem somehow, then you do not need to be supporting them.

Make appointments! Whether that is a doctor appointment or lash, nail, or hair appointments. Take care of your mind, health, and body. You could ask your doctor what vitamins you should take or also seek a counselor/therapist to find the root of your insecurities in a safe place. Also sometimes just getting my hair or nails done makes me feel more confident!

Learn to treat yourself. Buy yourself flowers or a gift you always wanted but never received. This could be anything, it doesn't necessarily mean to spend money. For example, cooking your favorite food, having a lazy day, etc. Remember that you deserve to be happy!

Lastly, beauty spells, glamour magick, and manifestation are popular methods for people who wish to enhance their physical appearance. I do all of these myself and I always feel so hot afterwards!

I hope you found these tips helpful beautiful ♡!

#beauty tips #self love #personal growth #glow up #manifestation #self concept #physical appearance #desired appearance #pretty girl energy #glamour magick #beauty spell #law of assumption #shadow work

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braxlrose · 21 days

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PLEASE MAKE 2005 BILL HCS 🙏🏻🙇🏻‍♀️

I based this on the song Ich Bin Nich' Ich from their Schrei album so I hope you enjoy!

content warnings: bill being sad? 😭 lots of angst yk (which if you've been here for a while you'd know I actually LOVE writing angst) idk if this is considered toxic bc the way I've written it, it's very much filled with codependency to like a point where without a person youre suffering so 😬.

summary: bill misses you more than anything right now.

word count: 1.4k

a/n: for this fanfic, you're dating Bill at the time and have been for a little while, and it's set in like 2004/2005. I decided to do this bc Ich Bin Nich' Ich is literally my favorite song from Schrei sooo I can't wait to write this. I'm not sure if anybody else has done this so if they have please tell me! also, lmk if you want to be added to the tag list 💖💖

+ this is from bills perspective

Ich Bin Nich' Ich

meine augen schaun mich müde an und finden keinen trost

I laid down in my bed, my head pounding achingly from tonight's show. Sweat dripped down my forehead and rolled onto my pillow as I turned over. My shallow breathing was catching up to me and my eyes closed ever-so lightly. The cold pillow was a perfect embrace after the show tonight. Well—almost perfect.

My heart twinged with sadness as you came into my head. You always sat in the back of my head like a lingering melody, haunting and sweet. My mind never was able to get fully rid of you, especially now since we're on tour. Your soft and supple hands always seemed to fit perfectly in mine. You're glistening eyes, staring back at me and that enchanting smile that sat flawlessly upon your face. Nothing could ever pull me away from staring at you when we were together. Everything about you always made me feel like we were destined to be brought together, we fit so well with each other and our bodies seemed to always be pulling towards each other like magnets.

My fingernails dug into the bed sheets as I closed my eyes to "watch" you. Who cares if I couldn't see you right now, right? I could always close my eyes and watch the way your perfect body; your perfect everything, moved like the water as you glided through the air, running towards me whenever we would see each other again.

That wouldn't be for months, though..

The coldness of my pillow was fading as my body denied itself rest. I couldn't fall asleep with the sound of your angelic voice, whispering in my head. Which was ironic, because that voice was the same one that always helped me fall asleep on my hardest nights. Nothing right now could ever comfort me.. not unless you showed up.

I groaned in annoyance as a soft knock cracked against my door. Who needs to talk to me right now, it's 11 o' clock at night.

I pulled myself up off of my bed; the bedsheets lightly sticking to my skin from the sweat that once dripped from my body. Walking felt like trying to pull myself through quicksand, all I wanted to do was to see you. You see you—no, feel you jump into my arms and press your beautiful lips up against mine.

God, how amazing that would feel right now.

My body finally brought itself to the door and my hand slowly pulled it open to see a face I had known for quite some time.

"Tom?" I mumbled out, pressed my face into the tinted wall, "What are you doing up here?" I asked, my breath feeling heavy again.

"We're going to a party, are you coming or are you going to coop yourself up in your room again, for the nth time in a row." He spouted at me.

I rolled my eyes before telling him I'd be staying in my room again. He may have seemed a little agitated about that, but from the way he was looking at me, I think he could tell what was wrong. He always knew what was wrong.

"It's always obvious, your eyes tell us everything, Bill.." He would say to me every once in a while when I felt down. I guess I was never the one who was good at hiding my feelings, especially from my brother.

ich kann mich nich' mehr mit ansehen—bin ich los

alles was hier mal war—kann ich nich' mehr in mir finden

I forced myself into the bathroom, my hands gripping onto the sink in front of me as my eyes hesitated to look myself in the face. I'm sure I looked awful. Ever since I met you, I never felt like myself without you. You brought the me out of me. That's what I loved about you so much.

My eye makeup was smeared a bit and some of my mascara had run down my cheeks. I honestly looked like a mess. I blinked in the mirror, watching myself crumble. I needed you so badly. This was one of the hard nights, the hard nights when I really needed you.

The water i splashed upon my face dripped down my neck as my eyes slowly came upwards to look myself in the face.

I could never seem to see myself when you weren't with me, you always made me feel so much better. About everything and anything. I'm still not sure how you did it..

alles weg—wie im wahn, seh ich mich immer mehr verschwinden

My freshly dried face from a cotton towel felt stiff as tears rolled down my cheeks. My eyes stung with a fiery intensity that only someone as gracious and wonderful as you.

My body didn't seem like my own anymore as I crashed down against the soft, recently sweaty bed. Makeup smeared on the pillow as my cheek rested against it, staring over at the dimly lit; slightly sparky (?) lamp next to me. The curtains surrounding my room seemed to understand my awful being right now as I could feel more tears threatening to spill over my waterline, down my face.

I could almost swear this was an out of body experience, maybe I was just tired. Everything around me felt like a dream and I could feel myself slipping away. My body, my dreams, my everything. Nothing felt real anymore. Not when I'm away from you.

ich bin nich' ich wenn du nich' bei mir bist—bin ich allein

und das was jetzt noch von mir übrig ist...

My breath was caught in my throat as more memories of you poured into my head.

××× I remember the first time I saw you—

Walking outside the studio while everybody else finished up inside, the cold wind blowing in my face, brushing my hardened bangs to the side. My teeth lightly chattered as you flowed by me. I could swear you were an angel.

From your angelic face, to your scent. You were absolutely perfect and I was infatuated with you. I remember thinking someone like you would never go for someone like me.. right?

How happy I was when I figured out I was wrong.

From the way you held yourself to your laughter to your strength. You were everything I was looking for and more. How could I stumble upon love so quickly? How was I so lucky to have you enthralled with me.

You had never even heard of my band yet, you weren't a crazy, obsessed fan girl. You weren't someone looking for a one night stand or someone who wanted fame by association. You were so beautiful and real and absolutely raw. I still don't understand sometimes why you chose me, but I'm so glad you did.

×××

but here... without you. I feel as though I've lost a part of me. Like I'm not me when I'm not with you. I don't feel whole and I don't think I will until we've been reunited.

××× you're bright red, slushy red tongue seemed to gawk at my blue one as we laughed. I laid my around around you as we walked through the park. I finally had a day off from rehearsing and playing live shows, to hang out with you.

I swear my heart was going to explode out of my chest just from staring down into your beautiful eyes. The way you were staring up at me—i don't think I had ever loved somebody so much. You were my true "everything".

××× your warm breath, slowly yet calmly blowing against my neck as you fell into a deep slumber was probably one of the most relaxing things I could ever dream of. My arms were wrapped around you as the TV quietly played in the background. My body had never felt so amazing. And now with you—you just made everything so much better.

My hands glided into your hair as you snuggled closer into me. With the warm air surrounding us and the soft hum of the noise around us. Everything seemed absolutely perfect.

How could I live without you?

will ich nich' sein

draußen hängt der himmel schief

und an der Wand dein abschiedsbrief

ich bin nich' ich wenn du nich' bei mir bist—bin ich allein

I slowly closed my eyes, my body finally relaxing. Ever-so slightly, at least. We'd be together again soon, I'm not sure why tonight was so hard for me, to be without you.. but I cannot wait to see your sparkling beauty staring back at me when we come together again. I don't feel like myself right now, but hopefully with time, you will bring that back to me...

sorry this isn't longer 😭 I hope you guys enjoyed this though! also here are the English translations for the lyrics. They're pretty accurate, but some stuff may be a little off 😞

translations:

one: My eyes show off all of my sadness, and find no comfort here.

two: I can't face myself anymore, I'm not me.

three: Everything that was here, I cannot find myself inside me.

four: Swept away like a dream, I see myself vanish more and more.

five: I'm not myself when you're not, not with me, i'm all alone.

six: And everything that is still left of me.

seven: I don't want to be outside the heavens hang a slope and on the wall your farewell note. I'm not myself when you're not, not with me, I'm alone.

also this isn't proofread, so if there are any mistakes sorry!!

taglist: none yet

#tokio hotel #bill kaulitz #tokio hotel x reader #tokio hotel bill kaulitz #bill kaulitz fanfic #2005 bill kaulitz #bill kaulitz angst #tokio hotel fanfics #tokio hotel angst

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fooled-around-and-fell · 1 year

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I was thinking about Pedro open monologue and his porny voice. What if Frankie accidentally called a phone sex line and talks to someone and keeps calling just to talk to her. And it ends up being someone we kinda knows . Like i was like someone write this!!!!

a/n: Love this idea! Hope you like this, love 💖 and I am SO SORRY it took me forever

Pairing: Frankie Morales x female reader

MINORS DNI

Masterlist

-----

Frankie was nervous.

He had never done anything like this before, but there was an urge, a want, a need.

He gulped as the line connected. He didn't know what to expect from the other end of the line, it could even be a prank, but the tightness in his pants defied any morality he had left.

He didn't know what to expect, but he was definitely not expecting an angelic voice that lured him in.

"Hey, how are you?"

Throat dry, hands sweaty, he's sure his grip on his phone was so tight he might break it. "Uh.." was the only thing he could muster.

"I understand this is your first time calling me.. I'm glad you chose me." He heard a light chuckle, "are you nervous?"

"Yeah, just.. just a little bit." Frankie looked around to check if anybody was near even though he's alone in his own house.

"That's okay," Your voice was smooth and calming. It made Frankie's heartbeat race. "Why don't you lay down for me, love?"

Frankie did as he was told. "Okay."

"There we go, more relaxed?" You asked. "Now, how about let's get to know each other first?"

Frankie blinked in confusion. "Um.. I like beer."

"That's nice, I'm a whiskey girl myself," You chuckled, "Anything you like to do in the bedroom? Or be done to you?"

At this point Frankie could hear his own heartbeat. It was loud, so loud that he couldn't speak.

"How about I start, hm?" You said. "I like a dominant man who'd do things to me."

It piqued Frankie's interest. "What.. what things?"

You smiled at the other end of the line. "Mm..punish me if I did something bad, play with me as he pleases... tell me if I'm being a good or a bad girl.. and.. well, I think you can imagine the rest."

"Fuck." Frankie cursed, his other hand palming his pants.

"Tell me more."

-----

Frankie kept calling you after that. Just once every few days. He was captivated with your voice, what you could do with just your voice... it was like you were there with him.

You never told him your name -- not like he told you his. But he found himself wanting to call you more than just babygirl these days.

You couldn't help but think of this mystery guy, sometimes. You've asked for his name several times but he never told you. You've resorted to calling him sir, daddy, or love.

There was something about his voice that sounded familiar, like you've heard it before, and you liked it. He was shy at first, but then he really opened up to you and told you the things he liked, things he wanted to do, the things he could do to you if you two met in real life.

"Fuck, baby, what I'd give to have you right here with me. Right now."

"I want you, too." You weren't lying. "I want you so bad."

"Are you touching yourself?"

A pause, cause you knew you shouldn't. You're the one working. "..Yes."

"Bad girl." Frankie chuckled, "You know you're not supposed to."

"Can't help it. You're just.... fuck. There's something about you." You pulled your shorts up.

"I feel the same way." He sighed, "Well, if you see a guy with a hat, a shirt -- mostly greasy shirt, and a mustache everyone is clearly jealous of.. that's me."

You chuckled. "Must be quite the mustache you have."

"One of the many great features I have." Frankie joked.

You described yourself to him, truthfully. You weren't sure why, but he made you want to be honest with him, made you want to show him who you really are.

"All I hear is beautiful."

Your legs were kicking under your table, a smile was on your face, and you realized you might be crushing on this man whom you've never met before.

You didn't even know what he looked like! How could hearing his voice make you this excited?

"Serious question though," Frankie cleared his throat, "How'd you start working here?"

You blinked a few times, "Are you trying to get to know me?"

Frankie let out a nervous laugh. "Sort of.. haha, is that so bad?"

"Mm. I don't know. I don't even know your name."

"What, calling me sir or daddy isn't satisfying you enough?"

You laughed, "You know that's not what I mean."

He smiled cheekily, "Well then say it. Call me daddy."

-- it wasn't like any other session. Usually with your other clients, you'd roleplay into this character you knew they liked, try to help them build their ideal scenario until they finished and you get your pay.

But with this man... it felt more natural. It felt like you're two people in a long distance relationship, talking at the end of your days, catching up, and just longing for each other.

It felt good, but you wonder why he was doing this. And if he, like you, wanted more.

-----

You were out at a party, one of your friends was hosting a BBQ night at his backyard, and you were more than happy to join in. Spending the entire day studying for school and then with your side job as a phone sex operator.. wasn't easy.

"Hey!" Santiago hugged you, "Sorry, I was busy helping Ben with the grill. Anyway, come on, you haven't met the guys in a while."

You and Santiago are friends because of your brother, who used to be his childhood friend. When your brother died in the field, Santiago treated you as his own little sister, taking care of you and making sure you're okay every time he's not busy.

Santiago knew about your side job, and he doesn't mind. You know it can be quite taboo, but it also pays your bills and you live very comfortably off of it.

"Guys, you remember Y/N." Santiago brought you over. "She's like my little sister, so don't mess with her."

"Relax, gramps." You chuckled, "You're only 3 years older than I am."

"Oh, they grow up so fast." He faked a tear.

"So, how's the studying going, kid?" Tom went along with the joke.

"Pretty good, actually." You chuckled, "If everything goes well, I should be able to be a nurse soon."

"That's great!" Tom said, "You can finally let being a phone operator go."

You laughed, "yeah, maybe. It does pay really well."

"It's a tough job, I don't know how you do it." Ben said. "How do you deal with a bunch of horny men desperate for... for release??"

You shrugged, "I got used to it, just gotta get to know them and have fun."

You were having a good time talking to the guys, having great food, reconnecting with people and just.. socializing. It's been a while since you did that, but you can't help but feel there's a pair of eyes staring at you.

And that pair of eyes managed to catch you off guard, alone in the kitchen while you were grabbing something to drink.

"I was wondering when you'd talk to me."

That was a complete lie. You had no idea who it was until you turned around -- Frankie.

He put his hands in his pockets. "Didn't want to bother you while you were havin' a good time is all."

You smiled. "How have you been, Frankie?"

"Good, mostly. And then I found out you're the one I've been calling."

You almost choked on your drink.

That's why he sounded so familiar, of course.

"Oh shit." You cursed. "I.. I didn't think this could happen."

"Me neither." Frankie crossed his arms.

"So what now?" You asked.

He shrugged, his expressions somewhat lead you to believe he's a little disappointed. "I stop calling you, and.. we pretend this ever happened. And.. I'm sorry if I ever made you uncomfortable during our.. yeah."

"That's it?" Now you're a little disappointed.

"Is that...not what you want?" Frankie asked.

You put your glass down. "I don't know, I was hoping to meet you in person. Get to know you.."

"Knowing what I like in bed isn't enough for you, sweetheart?" He joked.

"That's not what I meant!" You laughed, "I didn't know who you were or what you looked like, but I liked you anyway. And now that I know who you are... I kinda like you more."

Frankie stepped closer and trapped you between his arms. "I'm actually glad it's you -- panicked for a little bit, but now I'm glad."

Laughing, you and Frankie stared at each other. It was definitely him.

"That is a very good mustache you have."

"Mm." He hummed. "Mind if I kiss you?"

"Are they looking?"

Frankie glanced outside. "Yes. Do you care?"

"No."

"Good."

281 notes · View notes

starlightsearches · 2 years

Note

what about “need help getting out of those clothes?” or “god, you have no idea what you do to me.” with eddie???

When It's Raining

Thanks for the request, my love! I'm sorry I got a little carried away 😅 I got this insane urge to write some really, really soft smut, and I was listening to fleetwood mac. You know how it is ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

4k~ish words

Likes, comments, and reblogs keep me going. Requests are also open 💖

Eddie Munson x F! Reader

Warnings: mutual pining, friends to lovers, eddie's kind of gross, minor drug mentions, some teasing, reader gets stood up 😭, 18+ only, PIV sex, fingering (f), ring kink, safe sex, leetle bit of overstim (m), squirting, it's just a teeny bit awkward, i'm telling on myself with this one, maybe this is too many ideas for one story but fuck it we ball, and I think that's it!

The days are always too slow when it rains.

Eddie's got no commitments, no plans. Nobody was about to hike out into the woods or his trailer when the rain is thick enough to swim in, so he's got no business either. What he has got is a lit cigarette in his mouth (despite Wayne’s warnings against smoking in bed, all because he fell asleep one time), the rain on the trailer roof beating in uneven time, and an excess of thoughts.

He'd tried to drown them out with music, but the record's been spinning quietly for a while now and he couldn't be assed to get up and flip to the other side. Instead, he's chewing on his tongue, thinking about your date.

"I have a date tonight, asshole."

That's what you'd said to him when he called you up at work and begged you to save him from this mind-numbing boredom. When you said you couldn't, he'd made some wise-ass remark—something about how you couldn't have plans when he was your only friend.

"I have a date tonight, asshole."

"Bullshit, with who?"

"Connor Ingraham. He graduated the year before I did."

The year Eddie was supposed to graduate. "Was he the dickhead who chipped his tooth trying to do a backflip off the table in Mr. Holley's room?"

"He got it fixed in the city, but that's not the point. He came into the store today and we got talking. He asked me to dinner."

"And you said yes?"

"Yeah, why not? He was cute, even with the chipped tooth."

Eddie scoffs aloud at that, and then flushes even though there's no one around to hear it. Connor wasn't cute. He was a grade-a piece of shit then, and Eddie highly doubted he had changed that much since graduation.

More importantly though, Connor didn't seem like your type.

Eddie stubs out the cigarette, carding a hand through his hair and feeling stupid. He doesn't even know what your type is. If he did, maybe he could figure out how to get your attention.

There's a knock at the door, rattling his bedroom window with enough force that it pulls him from his stupid little pity party.

Eddie rolls from the mattress, feeling stiff and dirty, wearing the same clothes he woke up in—which also happen to be the same clothes he'd worn all yesterday. Not that it matters; he wasn't trying to impress anybody.

Or that's what he thought. Then he'd found you behind his door.

You're not looking your best, though, either. Your clothes are completely soaked through—the sweet little dress, your denim jacket, your shoes. You're a walking puddle with big, sad eyes, sitting on his porch.

You brush some of the rain and running mascara from your cheek without making a dent in the mess. "Can I come in?"

Eddie steps out of the way, wordless, watching as you shift the jacket from your shoulders, hanging it on the hook by the door. It creates its own little inside rainstorm, dripping limply onto the carpet. He peels his eyes from it as you slip your shoes from your feet next, barefoot and shivering in his living room.

"What the hell happened to you?"

"I walked here," you say, like it’ll clear up all his questions, "can I stay the night? I'll sleep on the couch, even."

Giving up his bed for a night is the least of his problems. Eddie grabs a couple towels from the top of the laundry basket, shuffling back to you. He tosses one down on the cushions, and flings the other around your shoulders like a cape. You grab ends of it gratefully, holding it close for warmth as you flop down onto the couch.

He sits down beside you, picking at the loose skin around his nails to keep himself from touching you. "Of course you can, but you gotta tell me what's wrong, first."

You're staring at your knees, chewing on your lip, and he knows your expressions well enough to recognize when you're embarrassed. Which is silly, of course, because it's him you're talking to. You've seen him pick up a corn dog off the ground and eat it.

(Although he never told you he only did it to make you laugh. That would be its own kind of embarrassing.)

Eddie scoots a little closer than he normally dares, jeans soaking up some of the water you're dripping, leaning in close until you look him in the eyes.

"Did he- did he hurt you?"

You roll your eyes at him, but he still catches the tears pooling in your lashes. "He would have had to show up to do that."

Oh. That's got Eddie at his boiling point.

He takes your hands in his because he's got to have somewhere to channel this energy—something to ground him—but your skin is like ice, and the anger's not going anywhere.

"You want me to beat him up for you?"

At least that makes you laugh. "What good would that do? You haven't won a fight since," —you pause, thinking hard— "actually, I don't think you’ve ever won a fight."

That's not saying much. You'd only ever seen him throw a punch maybe twice, and one of those was in middle school. Now though, he's feeling like an animal—like he could rip Connor's throat out with his teeth.

But he doesn't want to scare you, so instead he puts on a half-smile, rubbing some warmth into your fingers as he says, "there's a first time for everything."

You shake your head. "I just want to forget about it."

Leaning down against his shoulder with a wet plop, you’re turning his white t-shirt see-through as it soaks up some of the rain from your hair. He’s never been this close to you anywhere but his dreams.

"Yeah, okay." And god fucking damn it, his voice cracks a little.

If the proximity has the same effect on you, he’s not seeing it. Eddie forces himself to ignore the welling bitterness, choosing instead to focus on the quiet cadence of your words.

"I should have known better. He never looked my direction when we were still in school. Nobody did."

Eddie did. That's why he failed English last year. Couldn’t even get himself to glance at the board.

"It's probably not even like that," —Eddie shifts uncomfortably. He doesn't know why he's defending this guy; seeing you sad makes him crazy,—"maybe he just forgot."

You shoot him a cynical look. "Would you forget?"

"No, but that's not the point." That's like the furthest you could get from the point.

"Yes, it is, Eddie,” you say, sharp with anger, “eventually I'm gonna have to accept that I'm not that kind of girl—"

Eddie sits back so he can look at you, make sure you didn't have some kind of a head injury he'd missed before. "Wait, hold up a second. What kind of girl?"

"You know . . . the kind of girl that people . . . like."

You're picking at your nail polish—little red flecks falling to the carpet—avoiding his eyes. He can’t believe you would say something like that, let alone believe it.

"That's bullshit."

"I'm just saying—"

"Well, stop saying. 'Cause it's not true."

Eddie stands—pacing—but the tight, hot feeling in his chest doesn't go anywhere, and he hardly hears the words spilling out of his own mouth. "God damn, you know you're too good for that dickhead, anyway. Way too good for him—you’re too smart, and funny, and easy to be around, and- and, fuck , so fucking pretty, even when you're not trying to be, and god, it's like you have no idea what that could do to me—"

"To you?"

Oh, shit. He’s fucked up.

You’re standing, close enough he could reach out and touch you although he doesn’t remember seeing you leave the couch. All that anger floods out of him like air in a punctured lung.

He grips a handful of his own hair, flexing his fingers rhythmically, trying to think. "I mean- just, like, to men, you know. In general."

"You didn't say that,” your tone is soft, but guarded, “you said 'to me.'"

There’s barely any distance between you now. He can see the rain drops perched in your lashes like little jewels, your shining skin, the warmth of your breath tempered by the chill in the air.

"What do I do to you, Eddie?" you ask, in a voice soft like velvet. His heart’s gonna beat out of his chest.

The tip of your finger traces over the chain on his wrist, pressing the cool links against his skin. “What do I do to you, Eddie? Tell me.”

He’s gotta be honest with you. It’s the only thing he has left.

"You- you drive me fuckin' crazy."

The pause you give him is weighted enough to crush him, eyes wide and unreadable, a soft furrow appearing between your brows. And then you’re rolling your eyes again, pushing him half-heartedly on the shoulder to hide your hurt.

"Come on, Eds, you know I don't believe that—"

Eddie needs you to shut up, and there's only one way he can think of, his fingers sprawled across your cheeks, burying his nose against your skin, warming your lips against his with a surge of hot, open-mouthed kisses. You taste better than he thought you would, and he’s thought about it a lot.

Thought about it so much he’s not even sure what’s real—the feel of your arms at his neck, hands in his hair, tongue stroking along the seam of his lips. He hopes the little breathless laugh you give him as you pull away is real, staring up into his eyes with more honesty than he’s ever seen from you.

“You drive me crazy, too.”

You kiss him, pressing your body tight to his and gripping thick handfuls of hair, tugging a little until he gasps. It’s the proximity that tips him off to the shivers traveling through you, your skin still cool despite how long you’ve been inside.

God, he’s freezing—leached of heat wherever the rain has soaked through his own clothes, and it’s got to be worse for you.

He strokes a thumb over your lips as he pulls away, letting you know that he’s still thinking of them. “We should get you out of these clothes.”

You follow Eddie to his bedroom, just like you’d done a thousand times before—so you could smoke, or check out one of his new records, or work on your homework while he dicked around with his guitar—but the nerves he feels this time are brand new.

“Y’know, what I said before,” he pauses in the doorway and turns to face you, drumming a beat on the frame with his fingers, “it wasn’t a come-on. If you want to just go to sleep, I can- you know, take the couch.”

You look at him with false innocence in your eyes, and Eddie wishes you would stop. The chemical reaction it causes in him is too much.

“The couch, huh?”

You touch him again, and—outside the heat of the moment—he doesn’t know how to handle it, trembling at the feeling of your fingers stroking up his chest. It’s nothing compared to the soft press of your lips at his neck.

“Just . . . if it would make you more, uh,” —his vocabulary is shrinking by the second. He’s gonna be nothing but a pile of moans and single-syllable words if you don’t stop doing that— “comfortable.”

You kiss along his jaw, down his collar bone. He can barely form a thought, let alone a word.

“We’ve shared a bed before, Eddie,” you tell him, leaning back on your heels. The distance means he can think again, but only about how disappointed he is you stopped.

That’s true. Kind of. There were nights you’d fallen asleep on the same mattress, bodies curved around each other without touching, the river of his want carving canyons between you while he watched you doze off.

“I mean, yeah, but never on purpose.”

You echo his words from earlier, turning your back and exposing the little white zipper of your dress. “There’s a first time for everything. Besides, I need your body heat. Help me?”

Eddie’s mouth moves wordlessly, completely dried up as he takes the metal tab in between his fingers. It pulls down smoothly, the little teeth clacking with each inch of your skin he reveals, until his hand stops, just above the curve of your ass. You shrug the dress forward off your shoulders, letting it fall forward and slip from around your hips.

“God damn.” Eddie thinks that maybe he shouldn’t curse—like it might cheapen the moment—but he’s got no control over the whispered words when his eyes trace over the lacy pink straps at your back, the junction where your sheer underwear meets the curve of your hip. He wants to snap the elastic against your skin, wants to make you tremble, but his hands stay locked at his sides.

The view’s even better when you turn, your arms folded shyly in front of you until he can just barely catch a glimpse of your stiff nipples through the sheer fabric, the swell of your breasts dented against your arms. He grabs at your wrists, pinning your hands out of the way, tracing his eyes from your crossed ankles up, taking all of you in.

You look really good in pink—looking demure, innocent even though he knows well enough that you’re not, but still . . . he wants to ruin you. Wants to mark you with his big hands and his dirty mouth and his cock. Wants to make you his, and only his.

“Do you like what you see?”

You’re making fun of him—maybe just to get rid of your own nerves—but fuck, yeah, he does. He likes it a lot.

“What’s wrong?”

Eddie’s never been that good at keeping his thoughts to himself around you. He knows his face must give away everything, and normally he’d lie about it, say it was nothing, but now’s not the time for lies. “It’s nothing— I just- I kinda wish you were wearing this for me.”

Against his will, he thinks about Connor again. The idea of his clumsy hands at your waist, his stupid little patched tooth leaving marks against your neck, and his eyes taking in the way your tits look covered in pretty pink lace when he doesn’t even deserve to be in the same room as you.

You soothe his worries, pressing a kiss to Eddie’s cheek, the thought of Connor poofing into thin air.

“I am wearing it for you, Eddie. There’s nobody else,” —you take his hand in your own, place it over your stomach and press up until his fingers are wrapped around the curve of your breast— “I would rather be with.”

Fuck. He explores you with a wide-open palm, cupping your tit experimentally, capturing the soft skin under his thumb. He shifts, and you gasp a little, the back of his ring catching on the raised bud of your nipple, your mouth falling into the sweetest little o shape. And then he does it again. And again.

You reach out to him, fiddling with the hem of his t-shirt. “Can I see you?”

“Uh, yeah.” He stumbles back to the bed, blinded momentarily when you pull his shirt off over his head, your fists curled limply his chest as he rolls back onto the mattress, shifting until you’re beneath him.

Your skin grows warmer under his hands—one making indents at your waist with the press of his rings, and the other intertwined with your own, buried against the mattress with every heavy sigh and roll of his hips. He kisses you, over and over, each kiss longer than the last, growing bolder with the press of his tongue against yours, the nip of his teeth, feeling bolder when he hears your shaky breaths, feels the rise and fall of your stomach, soft against his.

And, god, there can’t be anything better than this. There can’t be. To have you here, in his arms, in his bed, your breaths ringing in his ears—it’ll dull the rest of the world.

“Eddie.” He’s pulled off your lips just long enough to hear you say his name, and he wants to hear it again, kissing along your jaw to keep your mouth free.

“What, baby?” he asks with your earlobe caught between his teeth, sucking it into his wet mouth, filled with a thrill when he feels your neck go taut, head rolling back against his pillow.

“Fuck, Eddie. I need you.”

God, how long has he waited to hear you say that? He leans back so he can meet your eyes, his hair falling down in curtains around your face like your own private canopy—a private space with you and him and nobody else. “Yeah?”

You nod, speaking between heavy breaths. “Yeah.”

Eddie presses a kiss to your knuckles, fingers still entwined with yours.

“Anything for you.” And he means it.

Sitting back on crossed ankles, he tries not to stare at the way you’re sprawled across his sheets, gripping your hips in both hands. You slide towards him with a laugh when he pulls you flush against his hips, eyes wide with surprise—or maybe it’s delight—knees parted around his waist and hair splayed out behind you.

He keeps his eyes on your face, running his palm up the inside of your thigh. His fingers fit perfectly in the space between your thighs, cupping your clothed pussy.

“Fuck, baby, you’re wet.”

You were soaked through before, but he can’t give all the credit to the rain, pressing the tip of his middle finger tight against your hole, stroking back and forth against the warm, damp fabric. Your lips press tighter together as you shift back on your shoulders, freeing up your hips to move against his hand.

Not wanting to get ahead of himself, Eddie pulls back, gripping the largest of his rings—the one on his middle finger—in his other hand, wiggling the pig’s head from where it rests against his knuckles. The others clink against the first in his open palm, catching your attention.

“What are you doing?” You sit up, gripping at his wrist with your eyes on his hands. His fingers feel naked without the heavy metal, and he flexes them uneasily.

“I was gonna, uh, finger you?”

It’s hard not to laugh, saying it out loud instead of just thinking about it. Eddie’s always told you everything, except this. He’d steered clear on the topic of sex, not wanting to say something he’d end up regretting, and now his mouth is unsure how to form the words when he’s looking at you.

You bite at your lip, and he finds a little comfort in seeing that you look equally embarrassed. “Yeah, but . . . I want you to leave them on.”

Fuck.

“Seriously?” He knows he’s wide-eyed, lips splitting into a wide grin he couldn’t dream of hiding.

You just shrug in response. “You heard me.”

You won’t look at him, but he can’t keep his eyes off you as you take each of the rings in your own hand, slipping them back into place one finger at a time. It’s a honeyed gesture—made for soft mornings and sunny days. It’s got his heart cracking in two.

Eddie takes your chin in his hand when the rings are back where they belong, pressing gentle kisses—one to each cheek—giving you a little sugar of his own.

“Loud and clear, babe.”

You lay back against the bed again, a deep breath in your lungs as he peels away the slick fabric away from your center, parting your lips with one thick finger, fighting for air.

You’re so pretty like this. He’d thought you were pretty before, but this is next level—better than seeing you in the passenger seat of his van with the windows down, better than your teasing smile. He slides his middle finger inside the tight, wet channel of your cunt, feels you squeeze around him, and the word pretty has a whole new meaning.

You take him so well as he slides his finger in and out, deep as he can with the rings, your slick spend coating the metal with each thrust, and you move against him, the pace of your breath keeping time with his thrusts.

“That feel good?”

He takes his eyes off your cunt for just a moment, crumbling a little when he finds your own hands wrapped around your tits, lace cups pulled down so you could squeeze at your nipples, back off the mattress with the way his thumb stutters against your clit.

“I need more, Eddie.”

Fuck, he’s gonna give it to you, already sliding another finger beside the first, increasing the speed until any sounds coming from you mouth have to compete with the wet sucking sound of your greedy pussy. His other arm wraps across your hips, burying his fingers against the bone, trying to hold you still so he can massage your clit with the tip of his thumb.

“Eddie,” you say, desperation in your voice like fucking heroine.

“Already, baby?” he’s panting, the muscles in his arms starting to seize, as if that would get him to stop. He changes tactics instead, shifting just slightly to improve the angle, pressing against your slick front wall with two fingers. His thumb bears down on your clit, and your walls draw in tighter around him, soft tremors echoing through his hand. He watches you, insatiable, licking his lips at the way your tits shake, your hands clutching his sheets tight enough to tear.

“Fuck,” you try to tell him off, but the message is weakened by your little moans, “don’t make fun of me.”

“Why not? It’s one of my favorite things to do.”

Or it was. His new favorite thing to do is definitely making you cum. With his rings grazing your folds, he feels you squeeze around his fingers, thighs shaking at his sides, and he’s more than content to watch you put the pieces of yourself back together, brushing your clit once or twice because he likes the way you spasm.

He slides from you, flopping down on the pillow beside you with a stupid grin, wiping his hand off on the sheets so he could turn your eyes towards him, holding your face in his hands.

You’ve finally got enough of your breath back to respond, face covered in a thin sheen of sweat. “Fuck you, Munson.”

“You want to?”

You want to? Typical smart-ass comment—Eddie’s said that to most of the people he knows, since he hears fuck you pretty regularly. The asshole jocks at Hawkins High never knew what to do when their threats of violence were met with his indifference, and his friends always got a kick out of it. He’s never said it to you before, though. He knew he wouldn’t be able to take it when you inevitably said no.

So his heart’s beating a little too fast for his liking when you plant a hand against his chest, catching his lips against your own in a gentle kiss. “Yeah. I want to.”

He just barely manages to resist the urge to say really?, still in shock when your palm grazes over his crotch, popping the button of his jeans.

“You got something?”

He can only nod, reaching into his nightstand drawer as you help him shimmy from his pants, kissing you, harsh and open-mouthed, so you won’t think about how awkward he is at doing both.

Eddie’s palms are too sweaty to reliably tear open the condom package, so he opts to use his teeth, shucking his boxers off and kicking them to the edge of the bed up on his knees.

“Wow.”

You’re staring at him, wide-eyed, tongue peeking out between your plush lips. Staring at his dick.

“What is it?”

His voice is high and vulnerable—cracking like a fucking middle-schooler. Nobody’s ever told him that there was anything weird about his cock, but it would be just his luck that all of them were too polite—or high—to mention it.

“Nothing, it’s just,”—you press your lips together again, wiggling a little, embarrassed, “you’re bigger than I’d thought you’d be.”

God damnit. You’re trying to kill him.

Eddie rolls his eyes, but he knows he’s bright red down to his neck as he shifts onto his elbows, sliding between your thighs.

“Fuck you,” he mumbles, even though it gives away how totally and completely pleased he is, fucking over the moon thinking about you thinking about his cock.

“Please?” you ask, batting your eyelashes, and yeah, of course he’s gonna give you what you want.

One hand guides his cock towards your entrance, the other cups the back of your head, pulling you close so he can feel the little gasp on your lips at the pressure, the head of him just stroking over your entrance, circling your clit.

Your nails scratch along his shoulder blades. He feels your whisper at his neck.

“What did I say about teasing me, Munson?”

He laughs. “That I should do it as often as possible?”

Whatever you’re about to say in response is cut off with a sharp gasp as he presses the head inside your cunt, sliding in the first few inches with relative ease, your body still loose from your first release.

“You good?” he asks, waiting for your nod before he shifts forward. You’ve got your fingers curled against the base of his scalp, tugging a little at the roots.

“I’m good. Are you?”

“Yeah.” But the answer is no. He’s ready to bust—not even a two-pump chump at this point. Feeling your body envelop him is better than he’s ever imagined. Tighter, and wetter, definitely, but also more passionate—hearing and feeling and seeing how totally and completely you want him.

He’s got to start slow, and it’s so goddamn soft—the way you open for him, legs stretching wider to accommodate his thrusts, your gentle kisses at his neck, soft doe eyes looking up at him like you’ll die if he looks away.

“Fuck, you feel so good, baby. Way too fuckin’ good.”

He knows he’s babbling, cupping your cheek in one hand, brushing the stray hair out of your face so he can watch you. If he’s lucky, you don’t even hear him—cock-drunk already by the sound of your moans. If he’s lucky, you feel as good as he does right now.

If he’s lucky, you’ll let him do this again.

You clasp your hand over his, fingers exploring the surface of his rings, and there are tears in your eyes, hips meeting his with every thrust, such pretty little noises pouring from you when he hits that spot deep inside you, cunt squeezing him tighter than he thought possible, swallowing up every ridge and vein like his cock was made for you. He grips your hip tight in his other hand, pulling you closer, hard enough to bruise. You don’t seem to mind.

“I’m- fuck, baby, I’m not gonna last,” he has to admit it now—too far gone for shame—vision going spotty, little white lights obscuring your features until he can hardly see you at all.

He buries his head in your neck, but there’s no judgement, just your voice in his ear. “I want you to, baby. Cum inside me.”

He does. A deep groan ripping its way out his chest, he spills inside you, the muscles in his core spasming as the pleasure shoots through him. He feels it in the base of his spine, in the palms of his hands, in his chest, mind far off because he didn’t know it could feel that good and he doesn’t know how to handle it.

His cock is still throbbing inside you when he feels your hand snake its way between your sweaty bodies, fingers rubbing tight circles at your clit, moving faster and faster, jaw clenched tight with a high, keening whine, cunt squeezing until you’re gushing around him, dampening the thick hair at the base of his cock, dripping on the sheets.

“Fuck.”

His body rocks with the same convulsions you feel, so intimately entwined it’s almost like he’s cumming again, body shaking and exhausted, too tired to even slip his cock from between your legs long after you’ve gone still. Instead, he rolls onto his back—away from the wet spot—arms wrapped around you, pulling you along with him until your weight is pressing him into the mattress.

“Wow,” you tell him, head pillowed against his chest. You still haven’t caught your breath enough for full sentences. He’s not much better.

“I know.”

You trace the lines of his tattoo with the tip of your finger, and it tickles a little. He can feel your heart rate slow. “I wish I’d have known it would be like that ages ago. I would have tried to fuck you a lot sooner.”

“I would have let you.”

It feels so good, being this honest. He’s got nothing left in him to hide.

You shift your hips enough to let his cock slide out from you—still a little sensitive as it lands against his thigh. You’re wiggling your shoulders next, trying to pull out of his grasp. Eddie just tightens his hold, locking his hands behind your back.

“Eddie,” there’s a little bit of a whine in your voice, “I gotta go pee.”

He just shakes his head with a little laugh. “Not yet, baby. I think it’s time for round two.”

He lets you sit back just enough you can look him in the eyes, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Seriously?”

“Absolutely, baby. I’ve been waiting for this too damn long. We’re just getting started.”

#eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson smut #stranger things season four #minors dni #requests #anons #my writing #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie the freak munson #eddie munson fics

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arisuworld · 6 months

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Finally a blog I can resonate with😩 I was so manipulated by this stupid occupying states thing in law of assumption ( it's the dominant state manifest, the state we Dwell the most )and all also read somewhere that no need to fix self concept . After all this time I realised how much power I gave to this stupid states and neglected self concept that I'm the god of my reality. Actually I'm very attached to my desire showing up in 3d while doing states I feel good but after sometime the anxiety hits . So yesterday I decided something I cried and told myself if I'm the god of my reality then should I be caring about falling out of state, or dominant state , doubts, negative thoughts! I just made a decision that regardless of everything (doubts, fear, failing out of state , seeing lack ,whatever tf it is) I still have exactly what I want cuz I'm the fuckin god here😭 no one should/can tell me that I have to occupy states to have my manifestation!!!! Nothing can fuckin ruin it I'm the I operate every single thing . I feel much better after I made that decision. Ugh! And please I don't know who needs to hear it but I'm telling you focus on your self concept so you put yourself on the pedestal and not your desires. You'll feel so much better mentally. I choose to stop giving my power to anything or anybody . I'm really sorry girl if I said too much😭I couldn't just stop myself.i have been in this stupid anxiety for over a year but now it's over.I'll come u with success story soon.

Take love 🥹🫂💖

YESS PERIODT!! LISTEN TO THIS ANON EVERYONE ☝️ Y'ALL NEED TO REALISE YOUR POWER AND LET EVERYTHING FALL INTO PLACE!!

I'll be waiting for your success story!! I know, you can do it. Good luck ily 🩷

#manifestation #manifestation blog #law of assumption #loa blog #manifesting #manifesation #ask answered #asks #ask

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jellys-compendium · 25 days

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I've been putting a lot of thought into my writing and general presence in the Trigun fandom for the last week...

I've been experiencing some major writer's block since I posted my last Trigun fic. Every time I sit down to write anything Trigun, it feels like pulling teeth and I get frustrated with myself. It's like my heart isn't in it anymore and that makes me feel disappointed in myself.

I think I need to take a break from the Trigun fandom for a while. Just allow myself to immerse my brain in other stories and media to see if it can help kickstart that creative spark for me again.

I want to be inspired. I want to really start taking my own original work more seriously. Yes, I write for fun, but I also have a genuine desire to keep growing and improving my writing skills. I want to keep writing fanfiction, but I also want to practice making my own characters and telling my own stories.

Long story short I'm going to be taking a step back from engaging in fandom. I'll pop in here and there, but I won't be as active with participating in discord servers or reblogging art and fics as I once was.

But I want each and every single one of you to know that I still 100% support you and your work and I wish you all the success in the world! You are all so amazingly talented and have inspired so much joy! Keep continuing to pursue your passions, and make things that make you happy! I'll still be around to answer asks and dms if anybody wants to chat with me.

Sending you all love! 💖

#jellyupdates

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stuckinapatriarchalbullshitland · 9 days

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Hello stuck, hello people

So I've been reading many old camren post on your blog and others blog... I think I had a little camren crisis and I can't help but thinking again about Camila's departure from 5h...

First of let me be clear about one thing: I don't not believe 5h and camila's feud !!! Second, please don't hate me because I'm bringing this back... I love this blog and love sharing my thoughts here with all you

I don't want hurt anybody it was a hard time 5h members and 5h fandom went through and that's what leads to think of what if Camila left in that specific moment because she knew what is coming with outing Lauren plans and she couldn't stand to watch laucy circus while being physically close to her lover ??

I mean she had solos while being there, she and others girls could have done the same while being a group and step by step announcing a hiatus like BTS strategy... Solo could have promoted another album or tour or songs... I mean management could have done rational decisions instead of an emotional scenario that fade away years later

What if when management told them only one of you both can come out and here is the way (a pr show with a woman) and then some way some how Lauren was the chosen one to come out and Camila put the condition of leaving the band as a non negotiable clause to escape pr show premier with her lover in front of her eyes and then !!!! Vile management came with feud plans and put it all on camila's plate not punish her but to make it hard on her like she made it hard on them a non negotiable clause... And it's presented as a consequence of her decision

Think about consequences song... What is the message exactly?? I loved you, you loved me, we had fun time and then hard time and I'm still in love with you and I know you still love me but loving you had consequences 💔

What is she acknowledging her lover about??? A couple is about two person being in a relationship... What is your partner do know/doesn't know about your relationship (you both in) that had consequences you need to acknowledge them about ???

That certain things went out of her (Camila)/their (camren) control ?? And she's subtly acknowledging her lover and her fandom ?? And mostly why this song is so damn important to her when she poured her heart on IHQ and SGG but still the important mention goes only to Consequences

And not to mention Camila agreed all of what happened (since solos, to leaving, to feud scenarios, to laucy show) only to properly free Lauren from the closet (I'll risk it all UTT)

Please don't be sad, it's just my theory (I fell in love with Camila writing this 💖🤭)

Hey buddy, thank you for your long comment.

About everything you mentioned, a few years ago when I joined the fandom, I discovered a post about Camren's long-term plans

Those plans consisted of taking one of the girls out of the closet while the other released her first album, then the one who had to come out of the closet came out and the one who had to release her first album took it out.

The bastards at Sony, along with the tremendous sons of bitches that were the people at Maverick, couldn't think of anything better than to capitalize on both. Fifth Harmony and Camila separately. From there the feud was born.

A feud that punished Camila and the girls of 5H to this day, so no, the feud was never real

I'm sure the girls had their dramas and problems but nothing that has to do with everything that has been seen since they kicked Camila out of the band.

It is more than certain that Camila must have felt bad about the whole Laucy circus, but everything that is happening to Camila now makes me understand that the next step is Camila out of the closet. In the present tense and leaving her heterosexuality intact in the past, that means that Camren does not exist in the past at least in front of the general public. At the fandom level WE KNOW THE TRUTH.

But... as always, they are theories. I don't even know what the hell Camila wants from this era. All I hope is that CC4 is good. I don't care about anything else.

Lastly, regarding Camren having to die, Camila is not making that mission easy for us.

We need Camren to die, but our mija keeps reliving it and like that we can't, folks, we can't 🤦🏾‍♀️🤦🏾‍♀️🤦🏾‍♀️💀

#camren in dead phase #camila cabello #lauren jauregui #ask #anon #5h

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ageless-aislynn · 20 days

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I've been just taking it really easy these past few days since I haven't felt very good, so I've been playing around with getting achievements for Dead Rising. The first day I played, I had Frank try on a bunch of different outfits, then I ended up leaving him in the last one he'd put on because I started working on something else. Now, I think it would kinda look weird to me if I changed it. So here's my Frank while I'm saving having a quick nap:

C'mon, Frank is WORKING that little black dress with the tasteful white shirt underneath, isn't he? The work boots make a good metaphorical statement for looking good but still able to do business. The business of... kicking zombies right in the face, yeah! 🧟🥾

And yes, he's laying his head on a mannequin leg. We were escorting a survivor, Greg, dang it, who had one little sliver of health left so I had to give him my health item so he could make it back alive and therefore I KEPT GETTING KILLED. I gave Greg a machine gun to defend himself with but he was bad about shooting me RIGHT in the back and killing me. Greg. 🤬 However, it worked out well when we opened the elevator that was packed full of zombies and I shoved Greg in front of me and he actually mowed them all down. Good job, Greg! *patpat* Anyway, we were heading back to the safe area and me and Frank were raining down THE LAW with a dumbbell that unfortunately broke. I was standing on some mannequin pieces and that's the first thing I could pick up. Hey, me and Frank work with what we have in order to save lives, man!

No, really, it was no problem. Happy to help. 😜

I was hoping to get a front and back shot in the mirror at the gym but it didn't work out that well. 🤷‍♀️

Frank and Jessie. I could ship it. *nodnods as if there was ever any doubt*

Heh, I just noticed the stick figures on the board behind them. 😂

Frank: "Look, Jessie, I have detailed out a plan where you and I will escape and live happily ever after!"

Jessie: "That's not the sort of game this is, Frank."

Frank: "Work with me, Jessie. I just dragged Machine Gun Greg all the way back to the safe room and died a whole bunch of times; I need some hope, okay???"

And on that graphic design is my passion note, I probably should get some sleep right about now, hm? 🤔😉😂

Anybody out there reading this who has played Dead Rising? Sound off if you have! 😎👍

Love you, frens, hope you're doing well! 🤗💖

PS - I can't blame Frank if his heart is torn, btw.

I'm pretty sure right now Frank is mentally adding a third stick figure to that board... 😜💖

Jessie: (yelling from the Security Room) "It's still not that sort of game, Frank!"

Frank: 🤷‍♂️

#dead rising #frank west #jessie mccarney #frank west x jessie mccarney #i could also be persuaded to some frank x isabela too #i'm sure absolutely nobody is surprised at that 🤷‍♀️😉#this is my game tag #video game #videos games #ageless aislynn #isabela keyes #frank west x isabela keyes

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jewbeloved · 1 year

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hii!! could i maybe get a Damian Thorne x trans ftm reader fluff? if u don’t write trans readers then that’s perfectly fine too!! i’m alright with almost anything :))

and if u do write for them, could the pronouns in this one be he/it?

again, don’t worry abt it if you don’t write this kinda stuff!!

have an amazing day!!

Damien with a ftm trans reader♀️➡️♂️💖💖

Warnings: None

Gender: trans male (ftm)

❤️ Damien Thorn 🧧

He personally doesn't know what that means when you break the news out to him that's your trans, so you would have to explain it, he spends most of his time in hell with his father sorry if he didn't know to begin with 😭

When you finish explaining it to him, he would still be a tiny bit confused, but still really supportive!❤️

Anybody being transphobic towards you? He's going to send them to hell so his father can feed off of their souls.

You want to start using he/it pronouns? That's okay with him! He will be quick to remember them anyways, and if you're feeling the need to use other pronouns you can count on him to call you by them as well for you.

When his dad is leaving to go to earth for something, he will ask him to buy you some pronoun pins or any kind of stuff that represents transgenders. He's just being a good supportive boyfriend alright?

And sometimes out of feeling, he might start to question his gender If I'm being honest. But he knows that you will also support him as well no matter what ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Not me over here still questioning my sexuality and if I'm really asexual or not.

#south park x reader #south park #damien thorn x reader #damien thorn #sp damien #southpark blog #southpark sp #sp x reader #x reader #southpark x y/n #trans male #ftm #transgender #southpark scenarios #southpark headcanons #fluff #fluff headcanons

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toast-is-ticklish · 2 years

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Dont Hate You.

Super fluffy not super proofread shadowpeaches fic lmao.

Sorry in advance for typos or weird sentences lol, I sorta wrote this on a whim.

Lee! Sun Wukong Ler!Macaque

Wukong is sort of out of character here just because hes super sleep deprived and irritable.

Hope somebody enjoys this! 💖💖💖

___________________________________________

Being immortal gives you a lot of things to have nightmares about.

This was especially true for Sun Wukong, who had a tendency to make stupid, half-baked plans leading to stupid, terrible, consequences for those he cared about and stupidly failed to protect.

All those mistakes he made were cemented in his mind, every failure branded into his memories with searing heat. They played over, and over, and over, more nights than most.

And so here he was again. Shooting up from his bed with a gasping breath, covered in sweat, lungs feeling empty and aching.

He grounded himself and gave his vision some time to unblur. Breath in, breath out, and then the usual routine.

Glass of water. Cold shower. Attempt to convince yourself to go back to sleep. Fail. Look at the night sky and wait for the sun to rise.

Easy-peasy.

Not like immortals needed to sleep anyways.

The Monkey King slowly clambered off the bed, ready to begin his little mental itinerary. But upon his first step his thoughts were very rudely interrupted by a shrill squuuuueeeeaaaaaak of the floorboard beneath.

Damnit. He didnt have the floor memorized in this stupid air ship yet.

Not a big deal. Unless you're rooming with an extremely nosy six eared monkey.

Stopping himself from groaning in annoyance he looked over at his six eared companions bunk, waiting for a reaction.

A moment ticked by with no stirring or waking up.

Huh. Maybe he was just super lucky tonight.

"Mmh, Wukong? What're you doing?" the black furred monkey mumbled sleepily.

"Nothing, just grabbing a drink."

He didnt want to talk about his nightmare. Some part of Wukong wanted to be called out, just so he could feel like someone was concerned for him. But no. He had to resist that urge. He had to be strong.

Macaque lifted his head up and eyed Wukong suspiciously. "Bullshit," he broke into a yawn and stretched, "You had a nightmare."

"I didnt." The Monkey king didnt even know why he was lying right now. He was too tired to be able to convince anybody, especially not Macaque.

"Why are you denying it? Not to bruise your ego buddy but it's pretty damn obvious," he disappeared into the shadows and flipped up right in front of Wukong to look him in the eyes.

"I dont know what you're talking about. Maybe you need to get your eyes checked Mango," he said, averting eye contact.

He knew using old nicknames would just further provoke the other monkey so he had no idea why he was doing it. His mouth was just sort of. Going.

"Well, Peaches," Macaque snarled, "Let's take a look at you."

"You're drenched in sweat," he listed on his fingers, "your hands are shaking," were they? Wukong didnt even notice.

"Aaaand..." he drawled out, grabbing Wukong by the chin and turning his head, "Those eye bags are looking pretty atrocious."

Monkey king growled through his teeth. He shoved Macaque away, anger flaring up and face prickling. "Why the hell are you even talking to me right now?! To mock me? To piss me off?" he burst out, letting his anger get the best of him. Why was he getting so worked up about this?

Surprisingly, Macaque looked guilty. He smacked a hand on his forehead and dragged it down his face. "I- I just... ugh. This isn't what I wanted," he said with a sigh, "I want to help you Wukong." A moment passed. "I'm..." he ground out, "I'm sorry. You just pissed me off with that old nickname. I lost my cool."

What? Wukong was sure he was still asleep at this point. Mac, wanting to help? And apologizing? Not possible.

He was going to promptly ignore whatever development that was.

"Why and how would you ever help me? With anything. Ever," he crossed his arms, tail flicking anxiously.

Dodging any and all of the implications from that statement, Macaque smirked, "Well I have an idea. But you'll have to extend some trust to me your majesty," he saw the doubt in Wukongs face and continued, "Its something we did as kids."

Well. Wukong couldn't think of anything they did as kids that was harmful. And he was so, so, tired.

"Fine," he decided. Was this a terrible mistake leading to his demise? Probably.

"I knew you'd come to your senses sometime, Wukong," underneath macaques laid-back persona he was really excited, "Just lay back down and let me work my magic."

So here Monkey King sat, Great Sage Equal to Heaven, in a bunk on an airship, weaker than he ever had been, and with his childhood friend turned mortal enemy clambering on top of him to supposedly help him with nightmares. He hadn't felt this ridiculous in a while.

"Just tell me if you want me to stop," Macaque looked down at Wukong, "I will. I promise."

Wukongs distrustful eyes continued to follow Macs every movement, watching as his hands lowered towards the Monkey Kings ears.

"What're you do-" as Macaque started fluttering his fingers around the shell of Wukongs ear, suddenly everything relaxed. "Oh," he breathed out.

The tight coil of his irritation, anxiety, and stubbornness was being loosened and replaced with butterflies in his stomach and the urge to titter.

Despicable.

Macaque let out a snicker "Damn Wukong, I guess we called it your 'melt spot' for a reason. I forgot how much you like this," he smirked, testing the waters for teasing most likely. Suprised by the lack of verbal response on Wukongs end he continued, "You dont have anything to say about that?"

No Wukong did not. I mean think of what it looked like! Here he was desperately fighting a dorky smile off his face, squirming, and holding onto Macs wrists uselessly. And by the feeling of his face he was probably blushing too. Gods. He hadn't blushed in literally two hundred years.

So no. He had no comment. He just clamped his mouth shut and turned his head to the side so he didnt have to look at Macaques stupid smirking face.

"Wow. Never thought I'd see you speechless," he started with a grin and let it drop, "But you cant just leave me out to dry now Wukong! Laugh! Smile! Something!"

He was met only with silence and a then a shake of the head. Mac was too impatient for this. In his attempt to help he had apparently made Wukong take some kind of vow of silence or some shit. A playful one, but still annoying.

He knew Wukong liked having his ears touched, but Mac was getting bored. So he let his hands inch down to the other monkeys ribs and just lightly scratch scratch at the skin there. Giving a little pinch to his bottom rib for good measure, and being rewarded with actual laughter!

"Glad to see you're not a corpse."

"Eep! Mahac nohoho..." Wukong giggled out protest half heartedly and somewhat sleepily. Seems like now that he was a little more relaxed the lack of sleep was catching up with him. Macaque couldn't help but let out a snort at that. "Yeah you sound real torn up about it, bud. And was that an 'Eep'? Seriously?" he chuckled out.

"Shuhut ihit! Ihihit wahahsnt!" Wukong denied through his bubbling laughter, and being flustered made things tickle more, and thinking about that made him more flustered so he was sort of stuck here. And Macaque was barely even teasing him at all.

But this was kind of...nice? He hadn't felt this relaxed and, well, safe in a long time. And it was just so easy to sink into that feeling. Let someone else take care of things for once. Even if he didnt really deserve it.

"So you're telling me I can make Monkey King, Great Sage Equal to Heaven, Sun Wukong, squeak like a little mouse if I just do this?" he teased, giving Wukongs ribs another pinch.

And he was rewarded with another little squeak.

"Eep! Ohohoh mhyhy gohohod! Ihihim nhohot a mouhououse! Ihi- Ihih- Ihih!" Wukong decided to give up on talking and just fling his hands onto his face.

"Wow, you are really get worked up about this huh? Well, the goal was to make you relax, not die so I'll lay off a little bit. Chill."

Even though it's really cute.

Aaand why was Wukong looking at him like that. Oh. Oh you gotta be kidding. He accidentally said that out loud?

He looked at Monkey King, who had lowered his hands and was just. Staring.

Yeah he accidentally said that out loud. Shit shit shit. "Eheh. Sorry, I promise I'll lay off now," the black furred monkey said, ignoring the warmth growing on his own face.

In an attempt to distract from his little blunder, he brought his hands down to Wukongs stomach and lightly scribbled there.

And once again Monkey King was lost in giggles and titters and now he was actually feeling really sleepy.

"Feeling tired?" Macaque asked, seeing his companions blinks becoming slower and his giggles quieting down a little.

"Mmheheheh...nohoho," immediately followed by a yawn.

Macaque hadn't seen this side of Sun Wukong in a long time. He was childish, but never this way. He honestly looked more like some kind of puppy or cat than a monkey at this point. He knew it was just because of how incredibly sleep deprived Wukong was right now though. It was honestly kind of bittersweet, reminding him of all that he lost after he was left behind. Even though he was trying to fix things, he knew it would never be the same.

Suddenly he was pulled out of his thoughts by a steady thump thump thump on the bedsheets.

Wukongs tail was wagging.

He felt an involuntary grin spreading across his face at the sight.

Wukong was asleep, tail wagging, taking deep, slow breaths, with a smile on his face.

Macaque took in the result of his hard work and was about to dip into one of the shadows to get off of the sleeping monkey without waking him up when he felt a tug on his arm.

"Mmmno. Stay," he mumbled sleepily.

"Uuhm. I don't know if that's such a good idea Wukong...Woah!" Macaque yelped as he was tugged down to a laying position on the bed, monkey king wrapped around him like some kind of monkey-koala hybrid. "You're stayin," the other monkeys voice was distorted both from sleepiness and the fact that his face was mushed up against Macaques shoulder.

Oh well. They would figure everything out in the morning. For now, macaque would let himself enjoy the warm feeling nestling in his chest and climbing up his cheeks, while it lasted.

" ...don't hate you Mango," he heard murmered as he fell asleep.

"I dont hate you either, Peaches," he whispered back.

#tickle fic #tickle #tickle community #lego monkie kid #lee!Sun Wukong #Lee! Sun Wukong #lee!sun wukong #Lee! Monkey King #lee!monkey king #Ler! Macaque #ler!macaque #lmk tickle #lego monkie kid tickle #legomonkiekid tickle #legomonkiekid tk #fluffy

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