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#like shut the hell up I know what its like to feel ashamed and I know when I shouldn't need to and you're not going to tell me shit.
floswife · 4 months
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SORE LOSER - T.N X READER
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Pairing: Theodore Nott x reader
Summary: Theodore and Y/n learn how to better focus their hate for each other
Warnings: SMUT, oral, dubcon..?
Author’s notes: this is my first time writing smut so I honestly apologise for how inevitably bad this will be 💀
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Y/n didn’t know what it was about seeing the anger flash before Theo’s eyes when she’d taunt him, but it honestly was her main motivation when competing against him.
Like now in this quidditch match as she threw the quaffle threw the goal hoops once more, she had to turn to look at Theo for a split second just for the sake of rubbing salt into the wound. She would like to lie and say she was ashamed of her pettiness but what’s the point in that?
She had been out to get him ever since he made her cauldron explode in potions, which prompted Snape to hate her even more than he usually did with Gryffindors. Which was quite a feat, she wasn’t on a Harry Potter level of hatred but on the other hand Snape didn’t have a perpetual hard on for her mother either so that probably helped her too.
In hindsight it was a petty reason to name someone your sworn enemy, but his smug smile when he saw her turn to glare at him was enough to set her eleven year old brain off. Plus she just really liked being a hater for no reason.
After successfully winning the game she went over to Theo who was leaning against the wall, looking like a kicked puppy, she couldn’t lie, seeing him like that really did numbers on her but she wasn’t about to let that get in the way of her favourite thing to do with Theo, gloat.
“How does it feel to lose yet again, Nott?” She called out cheerily, the broad grin he loved hated so much painted across her face.
He groaned in annoyance at the sound of her voice, “leave me alone, l/n, I’m not in the mood.”
He had always been a sore loser, she laughed in amusement “or what? I’m sorry but the last I checked you don’t get to tell me what to do.”
Theo glared at her as she stood in front of him, both of them still in their quidditch uniforms, he towered over her but she did well to push that thought to the back of her mind as she had been doing ever since he annoyingly hit a growth spurt in third year. She remembered how ranted about it to her friends later on, pretending to ignore her friends knowing smirks as she’d feel a rosy blush rise to her cheeks every time she had to crane her neck to meet his cold gaze.
“Why do you always have to be such a brat?” He sneered at the girl.
“Oh I’m the brat? I’m not the one sulking like a child because I lost a match.” Y/n’s continuous retorts just made him snap.
He grabbed her wrist and yanked her to follow after him, practically dragging her, and took her under the quidditch stands.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” She rubbed her wrist in annoyance at his harsh grip.
“I’m gonna teach you how to shut up.” He pushed her down to her knees and she looked up at him in shock, she looked forward and saw the prominent tent in his trousers, “now be a good girl and listen to me for once.” His voice was slightly whiny as he said that, like he was begging her.
Y/n gulped, really beginning to question her morals, but all her internal monologue silenced when he unzipped his trousers and freed his member from its constraints with a throaty groan, wetness pooled between her legs at the sound and just the sight of his pretty cock. Merlin he was big.
He rubbed the tip along her lips, the salty taste of his precum invaded her tastebuds.
“Open your mouth and put that mouth to good use.” He demanded, she did as she was told and tentatively kitten licked the tip, he threw his head back in satisfaction and let out a whimper? She then wrapped her mouth around his tip and sucked.
He moaned her name out even louder, making her moan around his cock at the sound, she took as much of him down her throat as possible, she gagged when he hit the back of her throat but she powered through, bobbing her head up and down and using her hand to pump at the parts of his shaft that couldn’t fit in her mouth.
“Fuck! Just like that. Taking me so well.”
He was groaning loudly, and she suddenly gained awareness that they weren’t exactly in the most private of places, she tried to pull away to tell him to shut up but he just wrapped a hand in her hair and pushed her back down, he began thrusting his hips and fucked her mouth, tears ran down her cheeks and saliva dribbled out the corners of her mouth as he used her as he pleased. The thought of how blatantly he was using her as just an object couldn’t help but arouse her.
“Being such a good girl for me.”
He held her head down on his cock and she struggled to breath, he twitched before releasing down her throat, he pulled out and tapped her cheek, “swallow.”
He tucked himself away and she got up and stuck out her tongue to show him she swallowed.
He now smirked, “it wasn’t that hard to listen now was it?”
Y/n was still in a haze as she tried to compose herself and have the decency to at least pretend to be embarrassed and tried to pull away but he firmly placed his hands on her hips and pulled her right back against him again, “Shut up, Nott.”
He raised his brows teasingly and she couldn’t help but grow frustrated at how he had switched the tables on her so quickly when she was so clearly set up for a win.
“That’s not how someone who just had my cock down my throat should be speaking, now is it?” His voice was mocking, condescending.
She get that familiar heat pool between her thighs once more and she remained speechless, he smirked.
“Such a shame, you were gonna get a reward for being such a good girl.”
She tried to gain her composure as she scoffed, “like I’d want it.” She really did want it
He leaned in, that stupid lazy smirk on his lips again, “so you’re not soaked right now?”
Her eyes widened and he then inched his hand from her hip to under her waistband, as soon as his fingers touched her wetness that had completely soaked through her panties she moaned lightly, her eyes rolling back at the contact she was yearning this whole time.
“Theo!” She gasped.
He pulled his fingers away just as quickly as it came he pulled his finger and he brought it to his lips to suck her juices clean from it and he hummed, “so sweet.. on second thought, let’s continue this tonight, room of requirements?”
“What-“
And just like that he left her there, needy for his touch.
She really did hate him.
But he was so hot.
Looks like she had plans for the night.
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Part two?
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fettuccin-e · 9 months
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Hey noodle! Congrats babe, you deserve it ☺️ what are your thots on “just a little more” and our messy boy Steven Grant? 😈
Hi Mona!!! omg thank you sm!!! and thank you for requesting!!! and for steven?? PRECIOUS HUSBAND STEVEN??? how could i refuse ESPECIALLY because i know this boy is filthyyy and fucking needy as all hell okay ilysm thank you again!!
Tags: Steven Grant x Reader, afab!fem!reader, fingerfucking (r!recieving), unprotected piv, riding, uhh squirting pls dont fucking look at me i am ashamed, overstimulation, light degradation, so much praise holy shit (w/c: 1.1K)
Prompt: "Just a little more."
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It’s honestly not that Steven likes to edge himself, or has some kind of fucking superhuman stamina in bed with you.
No, you’ve sucked him off in five minutes flat before, Steven twitching beneath you while he whined, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, fuck it’s so good, you’re so fucking perfect, shit-” while he spilled down your throat. Marc never let him live that one down.
But you swear that sometimes, when he’s got his face or fingers or cock buried deep, so deep inside your cunt, Steven forgets that he has to cum at all.
He gets lost in it, mumbling about how gorgeous you are, how wet you get for him, how good you taste. It doesn’t matter how many times you’ve cum, how you cry and wail with every orgasm he wrenches out of your heaving body, he just wants more and more and more. Ravenous.
“Steven, please, I ca-I can’t, oh please-” your pussy makes noises that are utterly obscene, squishing against his hand as he works his fingers into you, jamming relentlessly against your g-spot. You aren’t even sure what you’re begging for at this point; for him to make you cum again, for him to fuck you like you’ve been begging for, for him to show some mercy.
But even then, it’s like he can’t hear you, eyes focused on the way you spread and leak over his fingers, mesmerized by the way you clench around his fingers. He’s been like this since the first orgasm of the night, maybe the second, but God, he just keeps going. He keeps pressing soft kisses to your trembling thighs, using his free arm to brace over your twitching hips while he plays relentlessly with your aching cunt.
It’s too much, he’s been at this for too fucking long, God, you’re leaking everywhere, the bedsheets damp with it. He just won’t let up, your beautiful, treacherous lover, and your whole body locks again with the force of your orgasm, the squeeze of your pussy nearly forcing his fingers out.
His gaze snaps up to your face in an instant, and you can hear his voice through the rush of blood in your ears, murmuring, “That’s it, darling, my God you’re beautiful, so pretty, this pussy’s so tight for my fingers, imagine how it’ll feel around my cock, yeah? How much I’ll stretch this gorgeous cunt apart, right love?”
And it’s so sweet, so gentle, the way he speaks to you, a complete contrast to how he rips you apart with orgasm after orgasm after orgasm.
“Fuck me,” you whine, high-pitched and needy, absolutely desperate. “You- you said it, that your cock would feel so fucking good, please Steven, need-need you.”
But all Steven does is chuckle darkly, stretching his fingers out inside you again, and you nearly scream. “Just a little more, darling, one more time for me, yeah?” You can only clench your eyes shut and throw your head back into the pillows.
And when you finally wear him down enough to ease his sticky fingers out of you, you immediately roll him onto his back. If he’s going to fuck you, you’re going to be in charge. You’re going to be the one to make him cum.
You ease his cock into you, hot and throbbing in your hand, and you almost want to cry as he stretches your pussy so good, so perfect, just like he said he would. He moans beneath you, the sound ripping its way out of his chest, as if he’s suddenly realized how worked up he’s gotten himself by playing with your pussy for God knows how long.
You work your hips into his, plunging his cock into you just the way you know he likes. He nudges into your sweet spot just perfectly this way too, and the sensitivity from Steven’s earlier ministrations has lighting arcing up your spine with every nudge, every grind of his cock into your sensitive pussy. 
A mewl escapes you, unabashed and louder than you meant it to,  when you slam down on his cock just right, the hair just above the base of his cock pressed against your achy clit. Steven’s hands fly to your hips immediately, holding you there with an iron grip.
That look is in his eyes again, pupils blown wide and brows furrowed as he rakes his gaze over your quaking body. He punches his hips up, making his hair grind against your clit in a way that makes your head spin, his fat cock somehow reaching deeper into your pussy.
“That’s it, love,” he says, “let me make you feel good. Let me take care of you, fuck, you look so pretty like this, writhing on my cock like a desperate little whore.” Your eyes roll to the back of your head with his words, your hips working of their own volition, on pure instinct as you work his cock into you again and again and again. It’s like you can’t get him deep enough, bouncing on his cock just like he told you to. Making yourself feel good.
When you cum, Steven groans, his fingers digging into the fat of your hips hard enough to leave bruises in their wake as you clamp down on his cock. A shaky moan rattles out of your throat at the feeling, your body aching with exhaustion, your pussy too sensitive as you clench and pulse in his hands. You feel like you could shake apart with the force of it, wrung dry under his unrelenting touch.
“Look at that,” he murmurs, and you open your eyes to see his gaze trained on your pussy, and oh shit, his stomach shines with your wetness, the sheets soaked with it. You’ve never done that before, never-
“Fuck, you made me squirt, oh my God, Steven-” your body burns with embarrassment, and you start to pull off his cock in search of a towel, or something, anything to clean up the mess you’ve made of him. But his hands hold you firm in his lap, using an unseen strength that he keeps under his button-downs and jumpers, his biceps flexing in a way that makes saliva pool in your mouth.
“Don’t you dare, darling,” his voice is a rasp, all dark and ripped apart and feral. Fuck, if it weren’t for the accent, you’d think it was Jake. “One more time, sweetheart, just one more for me.”
“Steven,” you start, but he thrusts his hips up into yours, and the movement of his still-hard cock in your sloppy, sticky cunt makes you choke on your spit.
“Just a little more, sweet girl, just-” he thrusts into you, hard and unyielding, “one more for me.”
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The angelic peeps (I don’t mind who) with a sinner reader who had been mistaken as angel because of their form. Just them getting shooed inside heaven and ends up being like 👁️👄👁️????
Hell is forever! And Heaven... is also forever?
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Adam
Now, when you'd appeared, you had no idea where you were, or what the actual fuck was happening.
So when you witnessed an angelic figure slashing down some creepy little creature, you naturally freaked out.
When you were approached by an angel, if that angel shopped at forever 21.
The Goth angels having their weapons drawn you'd freeze, the two freezing as they stared at you.
"The Hell are you doing here?" One would as with a disnctly feminine tone.
You, completely off guard, would blurt out. "I'mmm... lost?" You speak, feeling like you were playing the greatest gamble of your life.
The two would look at each other for several moments before one would sigh. "Great, a normie?"
"We sure they're a Winner?" The second Angel spoke.
"Mmmm." The second hummed. "You ever seen a Sinner look as good as them?"
The second placed a hand to her chin. "... Nah."
The first groaned, rubbing her oddly yellow Gray face. "If this gets out, this is gonna be a mountain of paperwork."
"Uhhh, we don't have paperwork." The other hummed, raising a brow.
"Yeah well, if Adam finds out about this he'll make us sign autographs for him for the next 3 weeks."
"I don't know why he does that, he's the only one that uses them."
As the two grumbled between each other, you just stood there, waiting and unsure of what to do as the two bitched back and forth.
After a while more of this, they'd snap to you.
"Alright, fine, come on then." The angel grumbled, walking over to you.
You didn't get to react before she suddenly grabbed you, flying up into the air and scaring the crap out of you. It took a minute but they flew you through the massive hole in the sky.
She placed you on the cushy cloud like road, the Angel hushing you as she snuck you past St. Peter, popping open the gate and shoving you inside.
"Look, you didn't see anything. I didnt see you. You didnt see us. Got it!?" She asked coldly.
You just nodded back, the woman glaring at you before shutting the gate, leaving you... somewhere.
That answer was quickly, well, answered, as turning around you found yourself in... Heaven.
Oh, well that's...
Wait?
HEAVEN!?
Did you just... luck your way into heaven?
Apparently you did as you were quickly welcomed into heaven, the populous eagerly welcoming you.
And well... it was Heaven!
Everything was fun and carefree and there was So. Much. Singing!
It'd be when you attended a rock show, you eagerly watching as Adam himself played lead, the whole thing incredible.
Youd somehow end up behind the scenes after the show, a variety of virtue Winners all flaunting over the Band members, especially Adam, the man surrounded by Winners.
Of course, your appearance instantly caught his attention, the man perking right up and the next thing you knew the man was all over you, the man boldly chatting you up.
Now, Adam was... well, he was a prick, but he had a charm to him when he w a s trying to be charming, the man a mix of complements and criticisms, the man always sure to play himself up.
Now, look, your not entirely proud, nor ashamed, but well... you fucked.
And admittedly... it was pretty good. Adam was a dick but, well, he knew how to use his... mostly.
And that's how you fucked the first man.
Now, you have no doubt his initial interest was all about your physical appearance, after all, your body had been what got you into heaven in the first place.
Now you'd think after that first night you'd never see the Man again, expecting to be another one of his 'conquests', before he moved along on.
Okay, so yeah, you had his number.
And yeah, he regularly called you up for a booty call.
But its not like you totally hung out after said booty calls. Eating takeout and casually chatting.
Or just laying on his belly as you scrolled your respective phones, neither of you saying anything as you just chilled.
And you totally didn't perk right up when you saw his caller ID, greeting him as 'dickmaster', the two of you flirting hard before you'd end up at his place.
And sure, you had a drawer at his place, and a pillow, not to mention a bathrobe.
...
...
...
Well fuck.
Okay, yeah, so you were, uh, 'going steady', not that the first man would admit as much, but yeah, things were, well, fun.
Sure Adam could be a dick, but with some strick words, and a smack across the face, the man was surprisingly apologetic. Like, he was still a dick, and an ardent one at that, but behind closed doors he was amazingly simple, the man quite chill as you enjoyed each other's company.
Now, you'd always kept your status as a sinner hidden, I mean, it's not like anyone suspected you, how could a sinner end up in heaven, am I right?
But you were in Hell, and well, he wasn't super open about it, but it was clear Adam detested the Sinners, the man proudly speaking on how much he despised them.
Your relationship would develope on for several months before he noticed something off with you.
"Where's your Halo?" He'd ask so causally after you'd both chewed down on some Chinese food.
You'd freeze, mind rushing as you thought up a valid excuse, going over the several you'd made up in a paranoid stupor.
"It... uh, it's kinda ugly, I keep it stored away."
The man stared at you for several minutes, before shrugging, the two of you going right back to how you were.
And so, you went on for several more months like this, growing even closer, spending a great amount of time with each other.
It'd be one day as the man goes on and on about 'filthy sinners' you unsure how to react, as on one hand you kinda were a sinner, but on the other you could go the rest of eternity without ever broaching the subject.
But well, why make things easy.
So you brought it up, asking him what he really though.
Unsurprisingly, the man had not a kind word about them, so you asked cooly what if you were a sinner?
Of course, you asked it in a flirty tone, the two of you quickly getting playful.
He'd tell you how he'd have to 'punish' you, giving you his 'righteous sword', the two of you having some especially nasty sex.
Your life was good, you and Adam got closer and closer, to the point you ended up moving in with him.
Everything was perfect... and then it wasn't.
You'd been found out. Over something so simple too.
Your blood.
You'd cut your finger.
You bled.
Their blood was gold.
Yours wasn't.
It hadn't come up, but one of the seraphim noticed, and... well.
The courtroom was something.
Adam losing his shit over this whole thing, while you just kept quiet.
Eventually you'd confess, telling them how you'd been ushered in during an extermination, you honestly not even sure where you were supposed to be.
You'd apologise to Adam, in tears as you told him you loved him, and that you never meant to cause any of this.
Now, it wasn't just a one sided argument, Adam as well as many of your friends came to your defence, many pointing out how you'd fit right in in heaven for ages, and now all of a sudden it was an issue?
That would certainly cause some issue amongst Heavens leadership.
Adam was especially vocal, saying he hated Sinners more than anybody but you clearly weren't like the other scum that get spit out into Hell, you were... special.
Now, there's 2 ways this could go.
1. Heaven simply doesn't care, expelling you from Heaven leaving your friends and Adam to fight for you. I doubt Adam would fall for you, but he'd certainly keep fighting for you, ironically, in this timeline, Adam would 100% be on Charlie's side. Man absolutely all for redemption.
Especially if you joined the hotel, you kinda being proof Sinners could live in heaven.
It'd be quite the star crossed lovers situation, the both of you from different worlds, doing your absolute best to be reunited.
Or 2. You'd be put under 'house arrest', you being restricted to a very limit area, I.e. Adams apartment, the two of you under guard most hours of the day while they 'figured things out'.
And youd basically spend all your time with Adam, the two of you growing even closer, and again, he'd be on Charlie's side this time around, man eager not so much to work with Hell, but to see if there was a way to get you in heaven permanently, he'd bloody well fight for it.
Emily
Showing up to heaven, you'd quite literally run into her, meeting Emily, the young Seraphim eager and always happy to meet a new resident of heaven.
Especially one as appealing to the eyes as you were.
You'd have some fun moments, the girl eagerly showing you around.
Funnily enough, that'd keep happening.
You'd find her randomly, or she'd find you, the two of you bumping into each other often as she showed somebody around.
And so, you'd tag along, the two of you often showing new residents the ins and outs of heaven. You gaining quite a large pool of friends for your efforts.
The two of you would steadily grow closer through this, spending lots of time together, you'd developed a fairly flirty relationship, as while she was undoubtedly innocent and pure, she wasn't above some playful flirting, though she always kept it wholesomely chaste.
You'd spend more and more time together,
Spending long periods together, you'd grow closer and closer, you and Emily developing quite the... ship.
I say 'ship' cause it wasn't quite a friendship, nor a relationship. You were in a limbo between the two.
It'd be one day after you stood up for her with a particularly rude arrival, the man seemingly loosing his mind.
Not all too odd. People had very different reactions to finding out they're dead.
But it'd be as you helped her too her feet, gently cupping her face that you'd ask her out on a date. Like, a date-date, kinda date.
And with that adorable blush of hers, she'd agree.
It was a simple affair.
You'd take her to dinner, a simple, humble dinner. Nothing crazy or over the top, just an intimate little thing.
Just like your relationship.
And after walking her home, you started dating with a warm kiss, and not much really changed.
You still spent all day together, showing arrivals around and just having fun.
But now~ you got to kiss. And you had date nights. Your relationship and romance only growing stronger by the day.
You'd actually end up telling Emily about you being a sinner.
It'd be something you wanted to tell her for ages, you telling her about everything.
How you were in Hell, and ended up in heaven, and you'd been there for so long you honestly didn't know where you belonged.
Emily of course was sooooo supportive, the woman promising to keep your secret, swearing to protect you.
You'd honestly live a very happy life with her, the two of you happy with just each other, even as you hid your past, constantly paranoid somebody would realise it one day.
Now there's kind of two ways this could go.
The first; your found out and Emily gets exposed for hiding you. A very serious action, though teeechically not illegal as it'd never been done before.
But still, knowingly hiding a sinner was a serious offence.
So, it could go two ways, either heaven realises that you aren't this evil monster, likely confining you to your home, monitoring you at all hours, likely only letting Emily visit.
It'd be tough, but upon Pentious' redemption the question of you being opened again, Emily being even more eager this time round.
Or they outright exile you, Emily potentially getting into trouble due to it.
Regardless of what happened, you and Emily would love each other, through thick and thin.
Lute
NOW!
I think we all know Lutes opinion on Sinners, an opinion she'd make sure you knew.And while it was a major insecurity for you, terrified she'd find out.
Of course, Lutes wouldn't believe it possible, you being a sinner. You were waaaaay to attractive to be some filthy Sinner.
Yet outside of that, you had such a passionate romance, the two of you doing many, MANY unholy deeds in the bedroom.
Your romance was... let's say physical.
Lute was a dominant individual, forced to be when dealing with Adam most days, as such, easily took charge of most situations.
Now, you'd keep your past hidden, naturally, not wanting to destroy your relationship.
The purges would be... a contentious point. The girl no doubt telling you, either directly or indirectly, and while she thought little of it, it would shake you, knowing the person you loved relished killing souls so avidly.
Lute... well, she'd certainly have a reaction to this.
Having the person she loved challenge her beliefs would leave her a little off guard, the woman forced to really reassess her beliefs.
Now, I don't see her genuinely changing those beliefs entirely, but I could see her toning them down, the woman maybe even a little compassionate to their plight.
Now... there's a reasonable chance Lute would figure out what you were, despite your good looks, the woman has first hand experience with Sinners, so she'd know far better then most on what a sinner looks like.
But she also wouldn't care too much to pay attention to what makes a sinner a 'sinner'.
But... well, it'd come out eventually.
Likely you telling her, confessing to her that your not sure if your supposed to be in Heaven or Hell, Lute completely caught off guard.
She'd likely outright ignore it, shrugging it off, believing it all a misunderstanding. And if you pushed the subject she'd shut you down, telling you not to talk about it.
But it'd be as you held her to your chest, the woman crying as she sat in your lap, arm missing.
You'd tell her your sorry, that you love her, but you were a sinner, and that you understood if she despised you, but you couldn't live a lie anymore.
And so, after caring for her, ensuring her arm was cared for, you'd turn yourself in
Ironically just as Pentious was reincarnated and well, the next step would be on Lute.
Hey y'all, I wanna thank you all for 4 THOUSAND FOLLOWERS!!! I am so honoured so many have deemed me good enough to follow.
(I do want to apologise for taking so long, I've been dealing with a tremendous amount of personal issues and haven't had much time for writing.)
But seriously, I wanna thank every last one of you for being here and supporting me. I love every last one of you and I hope my content has helped at least one of you feel better.
P.s. I would have done more angelic character, and might in the future, but I was drawing a blank and wanted to get this out asap.
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pedgito · 2 years
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𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐮𝐩 ✧ ˚ · . 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
summary: eddie's got a late night bone to pick with you; only one minor sexual inconvenience in the way, but that doesn't stop you from picking up his call and eddie doesn't want to hang up either.
cw: 18+ (minors dni), virgin!reader, phone sex, mutual masturbation, really talkative reader & eddie (these two never shut up), lots of dirty talk, small innocence!kink, mentions to reader's body (only compliments, no descriptions), if i missed anything pls let me know.
word count: 3.4k — part two, part three
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The deep coiling heat undulated through your entire body, fingers curling inside you at an angle that wasn’t perfect, but it would have to do. That dull ache digging at you, like an annoying itch you couldn’t scratch. It felt close, yet so far of that you couldn’t even reach it. You sighed harshly, eyes drifting close in hopes that maybe it would help—anything, just some peace and quiet, forcing your mind to focus on the feeling of your body and nothing else, finger dipping into your the slick wetness of your cunt, dragging up slowly toward your clit—yes, that helped. You breathed deep, circling the sensitive bundle of nerves, that familiar tinge of want and pleasure radiating throughout your entire body, building, and building—-
The bloodcurdling ring of your phone cuts through the air, nestled in the corner of your bedside table. You’ve never wanted to smash something into pieces so much in your entire life.
Who the fuck could be calling at this time of night?
You yank the phone from its resting place, cord wrapping around your wrist in the process, but you couldn’t be bothered to fix it. You lean over the bed slightly, settled onto your side, before answer with a very clipped:
“What?”
“Who pissed you off, princess?” Eddie fucking Munson.
It never failed.
“If you keep talking, it’s going to be you.” You retort, still mildly aware of the hand tucked between your legs, not touching anymore, but hovering, waiting for this painful phone call to end.
“Harsh.” Eddie replies, feigning a weak implication of hurt in his tone. “I just wanted to let you know that you grabbed my dice by mistake after the campaign tonight.”
Fuck. You squeezed your eyes closed, tapping the speaker of the phone against your head in frustration. You had been so quick to rush out of there today, you didn’t even think, blindly grabbing your shit and hightailing it home.
“And I hate to make a big deal about it, but those are my lucky dice.” He points out. You can’t help the eye roll that escapes you, Eddie could practically hear it through the phone.
“And this couldn’t wait until tomorrow?” You ask impatiently. The man was wasting precious time, time that you would be spending doing something much more enjoyable. “I’m busy.”
It comes out, a Freudian slip. You could’ve just assure him you’d bring them in the morning and the conversation would be null and void, but no; now Eddie was intrigued.
“Busy? It’s midnight—what the hell could you be busy with right now?” He asks, attempting to compile a list of reasons but coming up with a big fat goose egg.
“Sleeping, Eddie.” You deadpan.
“You don’t sound like it.” Eddie says honestly. “Wait, were you—“
“Eddie!” You yell, a desperate attempt to stop where this conversation was headed—but Eddie, ever the persistent.
“Ha!” He laughs, seemingly clapping his hands together over the phone, “I knew you weren’t so innocent—all that bullshit about never being kissed and—“
“Ed-die,” You stress, begging him to tone down the teasing. It wasn’t that you felt ashamed, everything you’d told him was true. You hadn’t explored much outside of yourself—you know your body best and that was all that mattered. Why did you even need the help?
“Sorry, sorry.” He apologizes sincerely, “I didn’t mean to interrupt, really. If I had known, I would’ve just waited until tomorrow.”
“There’s no way you could’ve, dipshit.” Eddie snorts at the nickname, savoring the bite in your tone. “Besides, it helps me sleep.”
“Shit, me too.” He laughs softly and you can’t help but laugh either, though it only lasts a few seconds before you’re mentally shoving your hand over your mouth, begging your brain to process shit before it comes out of your mouth. “It’s not that easy, is it? Trying to concentrate and everything.”
Your eyebrows pull together in confusion, wondering why he hadn’t just hung up the phone. But, he continues; you can’t help but listen.
“Not when I have meatheads like you bothering me,” You snark, the dull ache in your cunt still hadn’t settled, and you really hated yourself for your next move, but it was necessary.
Your finger rubs over your clit gently, slow enough that you can keep your composure, but allow just enough relief that it wasn’t bothering you as much.
“Not a meathead—That’s reserved for Jason and his band of assholes.” You could appreciate his mutual distaste, feeling bad for stacking him in with them.
“Sorry.” You meant it.
“It’s fine, princess.”
You’re so used to the term that it really shouldn’t bother you, it hardly ever does, but with your hands down your underwear, attempting to work yourself through a desperately needed orgasm, you couldn’t help but play it in your head, the sound of his voice, like a tape on repeat.
And this felt so wrong, but Eddie noticed your prolonged silence. He leans into it, nudging you further.
“Do you need help?” He asks innocently, his voice remaining it’s normal bravado, but you can feel the anticipation in the way he waits for your answer.
“With touching myself?” You ask boldly; what a night this was turning into. “I think I’m good on that.”
“No with, you know, getting there.” He says coyly and you can hear the should shrug through the phone, the way his head tilts to the side innocently. “I can help, if you want.”
“You wanna help me orgasm?” You ask, still gathering what little sanity you had left for the night. “Over the phone?”
“Sure,” He says easily. This didn’t feel real and maybe you were having some fucked up dream you’d wake up from any moment; another weird sex dream, albeit almost always involving your one particular friend, who just so happened to be on the other line offering up his services, selflessly, “but only if you’re comfortable with it.”
And why wouldn’t you be? Aside from the potential awkwardness of having to face Eddie at school after this, it didn’t seem like a terrible idea—and Eddie was never the type to shove a situation like this back in your face, he knew your boundaries. Plus, you’d kill him if he ever did.
“Okay,” You agree, voice hesitant. “Yeah, that’s fine.”
“Shit, okay.” He answers, half-expecting you to back out.
You doubled down, “I don’t have a lot of time, so make it quick.”
Quick. Eddie could do quick—except he’s never done this before and has no idea what to say or do, he was going in blind.
“Uh, well,” He laughs at the absurdity of the upcoming question, “what are you wearing?”
You can’t help but roll your eyes, glancing over the outfit you were wearing. “Does it matter?”
“Not really,” He answers truthfully, “if it helps, I’m only in my boxerw—you know those ones you like to make fun of, they’re got the bats all over them.”
You laugh at the memory, Eddie bent over in front of you during Hellfire a few months back, moving some of the boxes full of theatre costumes since the group was forced to share a room and the other kids refused to put their stuff away properly. “How cute.” You'd told him and Eddie’s face burned a deep shade of red. He didn’t say anything, only pulling his pants up higher.
It was an interesting visual, you couldn’t lie. “Uh, I’m in my underwear, too—and a, uh, shirt.”
“Which one?” He asks curiously.
“Um, Hellfire, that black one. I think it's yours, actually.” Somehow that felt like the most scandalous part about all of this, being coached through your orgasm by not only your resident dungeon master, but someone who you consider a friend, “It’s nothing crazy, sorry.”
“No, no,” Eddie interrupts quickly, “That’s fine—are you—are you touching yourself, right now?”
Eddie’s free hand is resting over his boxers, palming at his growing bulge, not as satisfying as he wants it to be.
“Yeah,” You nod without thinking, feeling ridiculous after the fact, “For a while now.”
That slow, tantalizing pace you had on your clit wasn’t helping. You clear your throat, pressing harder. “You can touch yourself, too—if you want, I mean. I won’t mind.” Your face is hot with embarrassment, but it didn’t feel fair; he should be able to enjoy it too.
Eddie can feel his dick twitch against his hand, the idea of you having already been touching yourself before he even suggested anything; not that he had planned any of this, it was completely spur of the moment, but he couldn’t help himself now. “I am,” He replies after a beat, “I’m just touching myself over my boxers—kinda sucks, though.”
“Oh,” Your voice lilts, feeling that small tinge in your gut at the sight of Eddie holding his dick in his hands—you’ve never seen it before, nothing to compare it to or imagine, but still; you were picturing it, “Well, maybe you should actually touch yourself, you know? It only seems fair.”
Eddie exhales slowly, fingers shoving under the waistband of his boxers, taking hold of himself—it’s the first time he’s touched himself all week and he was in over his head, this was a terrible idea.
“God,” He sighs, falling back against his pillow, phone tucked firmly between his shoulder and ear, tugging gently at his shaft, “do you—you have anything you think about?”
“Not really,” You lie, “I just kinda—do it.” You lie again.
Eddie laughs softly, the soft sounds of his creaking bed frame were faint, but you could still hear them. It was the only thing you could think about; Eddie spread out, hands down the front of his boxers, tugging at his dick like his life depended on it.
You circle your clit absently, finger sliding down to dip inside of you. You mewl softly, letting the sound pass through your lips.
“What about you, Eddie?” And it shocks you, realizing it’s the first time you’ve said his name since you’ve started this dangerous back and forth. It comes out broken, wrapped snugly in that blissful pleasure you were trying to reach and Eddie hears it—the curse under his breath a telltale sign that he was just as wound up as you.
“Got a lot, too much to describe—never as good as the real thing, you know,” Eddie says absently, his hand an insistent tug at his cock, swelling to full hardness in his hands. He wipes the pad of his thumb over the slit, the small bit of precum helping ease the slide down, “there’s so much you’re missing out on, princess.”
Your virginity was never a main topic of conversation and Eddie didn’t make it a big deal either, but he knows how inexperienced you are outside of your own body; he wants you to enjoy it, wants you to experience how good it can feel.
“Wanna tell me about it?” You ask innocently, the pitch of your voice picking up on a certain stroke of your finger, palm dragging against your clit.
“I can’t speak for women, but for men—it’s pretty fucking good,” He starts, occasional gasps peaking through his voice, “it’s warm and wet and really tight, sometimes when they squeeze down on us—uh, it’s good. So fucking good.” Eddie tries not to sound too crass or dirty, afraid it might scare you away.
You laugh softly, his unique way of describing things never fails to surprise you, “What’s your favorite? You like when—when girls go down on you?” It’s really just curiosity, your mind racing through a million different thoughts.
Eddie huffs out a small chuckle, stopping to—what you could only guess—spit on his hand, and that had you clenching around your own fingers. It felt primal, in a way. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s good. But I, uh, like going down on a girl more—I got off once to it.”
And it shouldn't turn you on as much as it did, but goddamn if you weren't interested in hearing all about that. All common sense out of the window, you ask, “Really?”
“Yeah,” Eddie says, his voice still unnaturally calm, “I was younger, but it was nice—she made all these noises, pulled my hair too hard—I didn’t think I’d like it as much as I did, but then she came while I still going down on her and it just happened.”
You sigh softly, “I’ve always wondered what it felt like,” You admit openly, “something other than my hand, it’s gotta be good, right?”
“You’ve really never done anything?” Eddie asks hesitantly—it didn’t feel judgmental, Eddie was curious; half leaning toward delirious from his sleep-deprived state.
“Never even kissed anyone, Eddie.” You say regretfully, hand stopping for a moment. “But, I’m not clueless—I’ve just never had any first hand experience.
There was a long pause, your breath catching in your throat. You can hear him on the other line, but it’s muffled. “Eddie?” You ask quietly, “Are you still there?”
“Yeah, yeah,” He sounds a little breathless, “I was getting ahead of myself, had to slow down a bit—“
“Oh.” It’s small, feeble in the way you answer him.
“You still touching yourself?”
You nod again, feeling ridiculous. “Yeah—I am. I can’t focus, though—that’s been my problem all night.”
A problem that Eddie had just the remedy for.
“Do you trust me?” He asks and your answer is instant, not a single worry in your mind.
“Yeah, of course.”
“Close your eyes,” You take a small breath, letting your eyelids fall shut, “Tell me what feels the best.”
You breathe, allowing the fear of embarrassment shed from your body, losing yourself in the conversation fully. “Uh, fingers help a little—but, this is hard to do with one hand, I usually have two, that way I can cover all my bases.”
Eddie snorts at that, a smile spread across his face. “Just squeeze the phone against your shoulder,” You quickly maneuver it, shoved properly up by your ear, allowing your other hand to reach down and touch your clit properly, fingers an inconsistent rhythm as they pump into you, still, you can’t stifle the needy moan that slips out.
“Okay,” You sound shaky, “That’s—that’s a lot better.”
You feel like it’s going to be too bold of a question and Eddie would run away immediately, but you’re too fucking curious not to ask, since he was literally jerking off on the other end—it seemed like a perfectly fair question to ask.
“Do you—What do girls usually say about—you?” It was the worst way to approach the question, but Eddie isn’t too bad at realizing the context.
“Are you asking what my dick looks like?”
He couldn’t believe this shit was happening.
“Yeah, maybe.” You answer sheepishly, “Like I said, nothing to compare.”
Eddie grins, eyes scanning over his own dick briefly.
“Uh, it’s about eight inches, give or take.” He offers, “You could definitely fit both of your hands around it, if you tried.”
There’s a beat of silence, Eddie feeling like he fucked up—it slipped out, it wasn’t a suggestion; not the he didn’t want your hands around his dick, he’d be lying if he said that out loud.
You give a small noise of acknowledgment, feeling the heat coil in your stomach—surely you weren’t thinking about Eddie’s dick. But, of course you were. “Maybe we’ll have to try that out.” You say boldly, hoping that it would elicit some type of reaction from him.
“Fuck,” It definitely worked, “Yeah—yeah, maybe we could—I could even—even, go down on you, if you wanted.” He's too worked up, barely able to form a coherent sentence.
“Yeah?” You breath, followed by a small moan from the drag of your slick covered finger over your sensitive clit, rubbing the small bundle of nerves impatiently. “Think I could make you come?”
“With those pretty little noises?” Eddie asks redundantly, “I’m a fucking goner.”
You laugh softly, choked out by the sound of your own desperate noises, the pace on your clit picking up, fingers moving on their own accord. You can’t even focus on the fingers inside of you anymore, moving a free hand toward your breasts, still slicked fingers catching against the soft bud of your nipple.
Eddie strokes himself faster, recklessly almost. He groans so loudly into the speaker that you almost lose it, phone slipping away from your ear.
“Fuck, are you okay?” Eddie asks, hazy from the grip he had at the base of his dick, desperate to keep from coming. His entire shtick was to help you, not himself; but he was failing miserably.
“Sorry, I almost dropped the phone.”
“Oh.” He’s being cheeky, you can hear it in his voice.
“Shut up,” You exhale, returning yourself to the task at hand; regardless of Eddie’s smugness. “Thought you were supposed to make me come, not tease me all night.”
“Help you,” He corrects, “Not make you—though, I mean—that’s not totally off the table.”
“Eddie.” You warn.
“Right—I guess it’s not hard for me,” Eddie starts again, voice thick with want and tension, “All I have to do is think about you with your hands between your legs and those tits—god, they’re probably perfect, I haven’t seen them, but I know. I know.”
It was like he’d dialed everything up to ten, not bothering to hold back any longer, the pleasure taking away any filter he had.
He was thinking about you, of course—it made sense, but it didn’t snuff the pulse that grew between your legs, only making it much, much worse. Whatever line was drawn was crossed the moment you agreed to this, all bets were off.
“Wish it was your hands instead,” You respond wantonly, the pad of your finger rubbing quick, small circles against your clit, “they’re so much bigger than mine.”
You gasp, gripping desperately at the sheets beneath you, no doubt having soaked through the cover already from how wet you were, it was unlike anything you’ve felt before—it was better.
“Forget my hands—can’t get the sight of you sinking down onto my dick out of my head,” He admits earnestly, groaning through the quick tugs on his shaft, his tip leaking with a copious amount of precum, bring his hand back down to squeeze at the base. Eddie has never edged himself like this before, it was almost painful. Almost.
“I don’t think it’ll fit, Eddie.” The moan he lets out is loud, guttural—the sound of skin against skin louder than ever through the speaker, he’s close. “Is that what you want? To be my first?”
“Fuckfuck—yeah, I do.”
You can’t even think anymore, saying the first thing that comes to mind.
“Want you to ruin me, Eddie.”
He’s past the point of trying to keep himself quiet, openly moaning through the receiver, “Fuck—say my name again, please.”
And you do; again and again, your cunt spasming underneath your hand, reaching the precipice of what you had been dying for all night, his name a plea as it cut off into a desperate moan.
“Shit—I’m so close—.” Eddie growls lowly, his high hitting him almost immediately after, coming all over his chest and his sheets in shirt spurts, tugging harshly at his dick.
He’s never come so hard in his life.
“You’ve gotten a fucking mouth on you.” He says breathlessly, on the way down from his orgasm. “Would’ve never guessed.”
You smile warmly, hand slipping out of your underwear to rest against your stomach.
“You tell anyone and you’re dead,” You chide playfully, the beautiful feeling of sleep creeping up on you, “but thank you, Eddie, seriously.”
“Always at your service, princess.”
You laugh through your nose, the realization of your actions finally settling in. It didn’t feel wrong, but it didn’t feel right, either—though, you couldn’t be bothered to care now; all bets were off.
“I’m holding you to that, Munson.”
Eddie shrugs on the other end, unbeknownst to you. He wiped at the mess he’d made with his shirt, tossing it to the floor lazily. “So, not a one time thing then?” He asks hopefully.
“Don’t get ahead of yourself.”
A pause, Eddie clears his throat.
"I still want my dice, by the way."
9K notes · View notes
2kiran · 5 months
Note
same anon here, but id love to have a one-shot of hesh/keegan/reader :0
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゛ KEEGAN & HESH ⸝⸝ “uh oh, hesh's been caught.”
★﹐caution.﹑ sub top hesh. switch bottom keegan. top male reader. threesome. sex against a window. praise + degradation kink. name calling (baby, slut, bitch, sweetheart). marking. nipple play. unprotected sex. orgasm delay. fingering. dacryphilia. overstimulation. | word count. 1288 ◞
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hesh's tongue ran across the width of the bottom row of his teeth. it was a knock to the door of reality, reminding him that the scene collapsing before — or rather above — him was very much real.
he realizes in this paused moment, he was fucked.
metaphorically and literally.
his feet drill into the ground, his throat dehydrated. his vision had betrayed him, a traitor to himself. he could've looked away, he could've walked, he could've forget. but he didn't. incapable, he was.
your hand melted into the shape of keegan's neck, keeping his body close. your hips met his ass, cock stretching out his insides as an audience gazed upon the scene. he was the only person foolish enough to have glanced up, directly landing on the window. keegan's heavy panting fogging the glass before his flushed face reappears clearly.
keegan leaned back, his body familiar with yours. it could be viewed as instinct; with the uncountable times he has met with your unescapable hold. your cock kissed at his walls, bringing him to a high he wouldn't forget no matter how hard the attempt.
hesh was there to watch, silently. unknowingly, somewhere in between the seconds of being the viewer, his length stirred with interest. the texture of his underwear was becoming coarse, begging to be freed from its confines.
he felt ashamed.
yet he couldn't bring himself to dwell on the emotion, because his feet took him to the building. his mouth has a mind of its own, forming an excuse on the spot when asked. his legs walked a steady pace, similar to your demanding hips that smacked against the back of keegan's.
hesh's face burned with embarrassment. even the cool breeze couldn't lessen the flames on his cheeks, as his hand clenched into a fist just mere moments away from knocking on your apartment door. it was wrong; terribly wrong. he didn't mean for it to land, thankfully soft but you and keegan still heard.
shit.
the breath in his lungs was knocked out. you had a towel wrapped around your waist, seemingly fresh out of a shower. anyone who paid attention more could tell that it was not the case, the scent of sex prominent to his nostrils.
"david?"
fuck, he always loved the sound of your voice.
"uh, hey." what the hell was he doing? this wasn't him.
he cleared his throat. "i'm sorry," he breathed out, huskily, "i didn't mean to s–stare." quit looking at him like that. he felt as if your eyes were piercing his soul, words tumbling recklessly.
your chuckle sent a shiver down his spine, your hand bunching up his shirt as you pulled him in for a kiss. "mmph!" immediately, he shut the door with his hand while you lead him in the room. you could feel the obnoxious warmth of his face, your palms easing his nervousness.
his tongue shyly slid against yours, connecting with each other. he whimpered, helplessly following after you and your lips.
keegan spoke, a hint of teasing within his tone, "aww, look who finally came." he didn't seem like he was doing any better than hesh, his hair disheveled and torso marked with hickeys and sweat. a strange emotion bubbled up in his chest.
was it... jealousy? anger? possessiveness? want?
"you have a lot on your mind."
the mattress was soft, perfect to be dreamt on. "y'know, i always thought highly of you," you mutter, lips pressed against his to prevent him from speaking, "but now?" breaking away, you gasp for breath, "you're just a pervert who doesn't know when to look away. you don't even know how to hide."
"i–i don't know what you're talking about." he stammered, the other man chuckling behind you.
"don't lie to us," keegan chirped, his hand gently taking hold of your hair for his lips to meet yours. his eyes didn't shut, maintaining contact with hesh's.
hesh squirmed in his place, nervous. this sight was foreign, unraveling like a crumbled paper. he was beginning to overthink, prepared to take his leave despite his eager cock that was straining against his pants. a thin trail of saliva hung onto the tip of your tongues, one that hesh wished to break.
"hesh, baby," you call, panting. "y–yeah?" his voice was small, cowering. keegan crawled on the bed towards hesh, hand curling around his thick thigh. keegan leaned closer, whispering, "you sure you want this?"
he nodded in response, yet it wasn't enough for the other ghost. "i need words, baby." hesh whined, as keegan's hand palmed his clothed dick. pressing down against it gently, "i want this. please."
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tight.
warm.
and so fucking tight.
hesh's hands wrapped around keegan's hips, grip bruising. inch by inch, keegan sinked down on hesh's sensitive cock. he clenched around the man, calming his breathing in an attempt to relax. why did he have to be so big?
his confident demeanor weakened at the edges, biting down on his lip to muffle his whimpers. "can't take it?" you tease, brushing away a loose strand of hair from his eyes. he shook his head, brows furrowing in concentration. "does he seem any better?" keegan tilted his head, gesturing the man beneath him.
you cast a glance towards hesh. he appeared as drunk; drunk off the pleasure that he was receiving. both of you barely even began.
"pl–please, slower." hesh groaned, twitching inside of the other man.
keegan scoffed, experimentally rolling his hips. he can't deny it, though. he found hesh's submissiveness attractive. his head spinning when your teeth nip at his skin, your gentle hands carefully guiding him over the other man's cock. "fuckin' slut," you flick your tongue at his nipple, "letting anyone fuck you." he shook his head, pouting.
"what's this then, huh?" hesh answered for him with a low whine, "take it easy on him." you remind, pinching his other nipple. "f–fuck—aah!" he inhaled sharply, hesh's cock being completely situated inside of him at last. "cum—m'gonna cum!" hesh warns, his eyes rolling back.
keegan lifts himself up, dropping back down until he was able to search a pace he could maintain. "i can't—i can't take it anymore. please, please, wanna cum. i need it." pleading, hesh was. it was nearly incoherent, syllables no more than babbles of lust.
hastily, keegan quickened his movements. hole sucking him back in, urging for hesh to let go. it didn't allow him to last any longer.
ropes after ropes splattered against his walls, painting his hole white. you press down on keegan's tip, earning a groan. "mmng– shit, why–gah, m'already close." his eyes were similar to a puppy's, lips in a pout.
"look at him."
hesh lets out a soft 'hm?'.
you grab keegan's jaw, forcing him to look back at the man beneath in the eye.
"do you think he deserves to cum?"
that caught him off guard. he nods, rather a little hesitant. it was barely noticeable, before a meek 'yes' follows.
keegan whines when your hand leaves his dick, but he regrets his reaction as you prod at his stuffed hole. "wh–what are you doing?" he internally panics, the digit slipping in with no restraint. "hngh?!"
"such a greedy little bitch, aren't you?" your finger brushes against hesh's twitching length. "taking us so well." the two of them were dizzy off euphoria while you appeared so unbothered. it made them helpless. "too–too much, (name), it's too—" you interrupt hesh, "shh, sweetheart."
a sniffle.
"fuck, are you crying?"
keegan clenched at that. "don't stop." hesh immediately croaks, his back arching at the abrupt squeezing. indeed, he was crying.
you pretend to contemplate, humming softly in amusement, "what am i going to do with the both of you?"
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the beginning. thirst. masterlist.
670 notes · View notes
420ruffy · 8 months
Text
⟡ general Jason todd headcanons and how i view and portray him in my works cw. soft gentle clingy needy desperate touch starved jay
i need to start off with certain stereotypes/ways in which he gets potrayed sometimes that i hate with every fibre of my fucking being :
he’s not some aggressive horny flirty asshole jock. he’s grown and too old for that hs bs. like literally he would think of that behavior as annoying, disgusting and stupid
and he’s most definitely (and i can’t stress this enough) not a yandere kidnapper or a stalker or any of that weird bullshit. yall are weird & need some help fr.
idk if yall read the comics but he’s literally so caring and sensitive and he would be so gentle and soft. he’d be rather awkward and wouldn’t exactly know how to go about his feelings for someone.
he knows what its like when no one cares and when you grow up in an unstable home or on the streets so he has compassion for outcasts, children, women, non-cishetmen and animals
he’s canonically a nerd. he’s literary and he used to like going to school and learning. ppl always get him and tim mixed up bc tim hated going to school and would rather play video games all day long whereas jason wished he wouldn’t have had to drop out
also obviously very much an intersectional feminist ! he’s read all the books abt it and is actively working against his indoctrinated misogyny
he loves all women but he has a soft spot for woc, fat/chubby/muscular women, women with big noses, you name it. just women who don’t fit the stereotypical beauty standard in general
he’s scared and ashamed of how needy and clingy he actually is. he knows himself (sadly) and it’s not something that he can just get rid of. it’s pent up from early childhood bc he never got enough love and then from after his death bc of all the shit he had to go through with bruce.
this side of him will haunt him until he dies- again. he can’t change it but he sure as hell won’t embrace it either. it’s a secret he wishes he could take to his final grave. actually- deep down he wishes he would find someone who understands and accepts him the way he is and someone who he can trust to be himself with.
!! aroace spec , bi (women+)
he is secretly so incredibly desperate.. desperate for love, intimacy, being understood and accepted, desperate to be touched and hugged- loved.
he’s just so touch starved, he doesn’t even know what it feels like not to be. what it feels like to be loved or happy. to be content. how to not feel like something is missing.
he needs someone to take care of him bc he just does a very poor job at that.. also it feels nice being able to just shut off and not having to think about anything
he wants to be hugged and caressed
gentle touches
he loves forehead kisses and headpats or just your hand on his head and in his hair
he wants to kiss you passionately and deeply
prefers making out and hugging/cuddling over sex tbh
all he wants is to lay in bed or sit on the couch hugging someone who truly loves and accepts him and never let go
switch with a sub/bottom lean
i think it goes hand in hand with him having a sub lean but he’s attracted to strong dominant people. preferably someone who’s a switch too
everybody knows this already but he LIVES for praise
praise him and he’s in heaven. you’ll literally get him to do anything if you praise him. want him to give you head? just be a little clingy and loving, telling him how much you love him and how good he always makes you feel and he’s already dropping to his knees taking off your pants.
definitely a service / pleasure dom
if you’re fem/afab :
eating you out is his favorite thing. he goes in like it’s all or nothing (to him it is). no penetration if you didn’t cum at least once from his tongue.
he loves it when you ride his face and use him to make yourself feel good. there’s not a single thing he likes more than seeing you on top of him.
he loves watching you go from humming and gently playing with his hair to breathing heavily and tugging on his hair- to whining, moaning and grunting while grinding your pussy into his face deeper and faster to finally reach your high
also loves it when you ride his dick. being able to relax a little and just look up at you feeling good because of him makes him moan so much
he’ll also pull you down a lot when you’re riding him just to hug you and hold you close and to hear you breathing and moaning into his ear
he’ll thrust up from under you as fast as he can just to catch you off guard and see your face in pure bliss. he loves it when he makes you cum in this position.
he also loves missionary and the mating press
you know he’s close when he starts holding you close and mumbling/whining your name over and over again
if you’re male/amab :
he loves giving you head and eating your ass and wants you to use him. it really gets him going. it’s bc of his incredibly patent inferiority complex and feeling like he’s a good for nothing piece of shit
he also likes being the one that penetrantes you though. he’ll start begging for praise even though he’s the one topping saying things like “tell me i’m a good boy, tell me i’m your good boy.” “tell me how good i make you feel” “please just tell me i’m doing a good job.” “wanna make you feel good.” all while his big tall frame is hovering above you and ramming into you
a whimperer. he whines and moans a lot, shamelessly. he grunts and groans too. especially when he’s a little bit too frustrated or stressed. and he shamelessly breathes heavily during sex. any noise that he can make will escape his lips. all in all he’s just incredibly vocal and he doesn’t care if people can hear.
he really likes handjobs. preferably with you sitting in front of him so he can look up at you but he also likes it when you’re sitting behind him and you say things in his ear while kissing his neck or cheek and sucking on his earlobe
but he especially loves it when you’re sucking him off and fingering his ass at the same time. add a little praise and you’ll have him whining, whimpering and even crying. he’ll be a mess
he often gets teary-eyed during sex because of how sensitive he is. and i mean both his body and his feelings.
he wants and needs someone who'd accept him for who he is and wouldn't wanna change him. someone who shares the same morals as him and doesn't have a problem with him being morally grey.
he would want someone he doesn’t have to explain everything to. he knows it’s toxic and not really fair but he hates having to put his thoughts into words. he’s not really good at it.
so he needs someone who’s observant and pays attention to details. maybe even someone who can read body language. just so he doesn’t have to go through the uncomfortable experience of having to say that he’s needy and broken out loud.
he wants someone to pay attention to him and figure him out so well that he doesn’t have to ask for things and you instead know what he wants and needs at certain times and just give it to him
he gets pissed and sighs while rolling his eyes when he’s showing clear signs of what he wants and you’re not picking up on it.
it took great cruelty to make him this gentle. but to an extent he’s grateful for it because he now knows exactly why it’s so important to treat people kindly and gently.
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lunarw0rks · 8 months
Note
do you think any of the 141 guys would be ok with a hairy girl? i don’t shave down there and this guy i was going to hook up with was grossed out by it so i’m a bit upset yk? :( if this is weird just ignore! <3 thank you!
a/n: not a weird request, anon! it's easy to be ashamed about it, i know i have before, but you have to remember that it grows for a reason! <3 don't be ashamed of body hair just because of some douche!!! what matters is that you're healthy and do what you want with your body and what naturally comes with it :) you deserve better than a prick who's grossed out by hair of all things. ☆ if it's any consolation, the cod men wouldn't be. hope my writing helps you feel better ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⭑ ✧˖ warning(s); hurt/comfort but horny, nsfw °.🪐⋆。°✩ ‧₊˚ ⋅ જ⁀➴๋࣭ ⭑๋࣭ ⭑
『 price 』
── I feel like price is quite hairy; everywhere. it's not like he has the time, or the desire to be waxed. he's old enough, that he just doesn't care anymore. beyond some trimming and cleaning up — he won't bother. now, with a partner? absolutely loves it. it's something for him to brush his fingertips over when he cuddles you. and it just proves you're a natural woman, which is all he can ask for.
☆ if you even think about being insecure, he'll shut you up, one way or another. first, it's a gentle scold, reassurance that he loves the way you are. something like body hair isn't going to get in the way of that.
☆ if it ever did, you have his full permission to ring his neck <33 if being verbal doesn't work... there are other forms of worship he'd inflict on you ;)
☆ you catch him in a good mood; he'll eat you out until you're convinced, no matter the amount of hair. a bad mood; he'll have you bent over until the doubt is fucked out of you. it's never bothered him before, there isn't a chance it's going to when you're screaming his name.
♡˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ♡
『 simon 』
── at first, you thought you had soiled the intimate mood and his completely. like it was a point of no return, but it wasn't. simon was just shocked, and he couldn't help his natural scowl. for him to even be close enough to be intimate with someone, is a massive milestone. for him to notice your body hair? not a chance. he won't mention it unless you do, and in this case you did.
☆ you'd made a comment about your hair, how you hadn't shaved. "is that really what you think of me?" his words came out a bit firmer than he wanted them to. he didn't mean it that way, but he couldn't help his disbelief. he was with you for a reason, why the hell would some body hair be a concern?
☆ before you can respond again, even think about looking more upset. he's all over you once more — but he's taking his time. not that he's one to rush often, but this time he knows he should take this slow. simon touches you like you'll shatter, his roaming mouth even gentler.
☆ truly a night to remember, but not because of its lust. that would be the second thing on a list of fond memories. his tenderness would be; the hardened lieutenant reassuring you until you have no choice but to believe him.
♡˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ♡
『 soap 』
── though he's well groomed, and prides himself on the hair all over his body, his significant other being hairy doesn't bother him a bit. finds it incredibly attractive, someone with small features that make them, them. you would be the you he loved so much if you suddenly changed yourself for him. soap has a hard enough time believing that he deserves you in the first place, so your insecurity about something so small has him dumbfounded.
☆ shocking him into silence? not an easy task, but you did it. and now... he has to make his best effort to show you how little the hair bothers him. soap could drone on and on with verbal praises, but that only does so much. what better convincing, than raw actions?
☆ his silence is almost eerie; the cloud of desire and longing that fogged his eyes. you were his, no matter how you looked, and he was going to make sure you knew it once the night was over.
☆ absolutely ruins you, like he had done many times before, only tonight is especially messy. pulls out all the stops — prolonged foreplay, hands guiding you, etc... forces you to keep eye contact with him, and on your body as he pleasures you. and still, he doesn't say anything except praises for your natural self, right into your ear. "fuck, look at you, bonnie. good f' me, aren't ye, pretty girl?"
♡˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ♡
『 gaz 』
── it was a blissful moment until you expressed discomfort towards him dealing with your hair. he's irritated, but not an ounce of it is towards you. who made you feel that way? how could someone like you be insecure? did he need to do more to ensure you knew he paid little mind to something so trivial? he was laser-focused now, and it wasn't going to break. you'd never seen him like this, it was daunting, almost.
☆ he made it clear, that this wasn't a burden of his. "don't ever say that again, sweetheart. don't even think it." gaz whispers into your ear, hand running over your frame from top to bottom. "look at yourself, so goddamn gorgeous, hair or not — you don't see it. I'm gonna make sure you do, no exceptions." though his expression was stern, his speech couldn't have been more tender.
☆ you won't even lift a finger, unless it's to hold onto him for dear life, to paint a picture. yes, he's being tender and reassuring, but that doesn't mean gaz rearranging your guts. his attention to every detail on your body, his whispers of praise, his skilled mouth kissing every inch of your flesh.
☆ you'll think twice before you doubt yourself again. and he's a damn persistent man — so good luck to you if you do ;)
♡˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ♡
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mikeysbabygirl · 2 years
Note
Ok if we're doing ass grabbing we HAVE to get some tit grabbing too! I wanna know how my fave is gonna hold them while I ride him!
Good mornin' babe, I just woke up, what time is it there ?
THE TITS GRABBING LES'GOOO : ( I didn't talked about sizes don't worry, big or small, these guys are addicted to your tits)
Izana, Mitsuya, Kakucho, Inupi :
We all know this man lacks a mother figure ( Izana and his mommy issues, Mitsuya and his absent mom, Kakucho's mom died... )
I don't know what this has to do with that, don't ask me about the connection, but this man is definitely the type to want them in his mouth.
You're both just enjoying the warm sun rays seeping through the windows, laying on your bed. This big, though, strong man is laying on top of you, head resting on your chest while your hands play with his hair.
Starts slowly at first, placing lingering kisses on your cleavage, sucking on the skin here and there. And as the heat starts building up in your lower belly, he smirks as he lowers your top, letting your breasts break free and taking immediately one of them in his mouth.
" Shhh, love. Sit still for me and lemme suck these pretty things"
Yes yes, a man of muscles, of bloody knuckles and all, laying on top of you with his mouth around your nipples. Good thing is, as you start turning horny, his other hand would start sliding between your legs, making its way to your clothed pussy. " Worry not, won't let my pretty girl get needy "
Mikey, Wakasa,Ran, Haruchiyo,Hanma :
He thinks he owns them. Like literally, it's his boobs, not yours. You just carry them for him.
No seriously, he always has what he wants, why would it be different for those ?
He isn't soft at all, please stay away from him when you're on your period and your chest is hurting.
You were late to your appointment, already running everywhere in the house gathering your belongings. And he was already upset that he had to leave the bed early that morning because his friends decided to come discuss some matters that day.
As you took your bag from in the living room, you greeted his friends and leaned over slightly to peck his cheek. What a mistake. The slight sight you gave him of your cleavage was enough for his pants to already start tightening.
-" The fuck you're doing-" he pulls you by the hand straight in his lap, and those strong hands of him are already finding your breasts under your top, kneading them and grunting as you accidentally rub your ass against his bulge trying to get up.
-" No work for ya today. Ya better shut this pretty mouth, yeah ? Let daddy play with his good girl. "
-" Eyes on me. " he commands directly toward one of his friends, when their eyes start lingering a little away from his face, toward you. " Not on what's mine. "
Kazutora, Shinichiro, Rindou,Benkei, Hakkai, Kokonoi :
He's kinda shy about it ( yes, yes even Rindou )
Understand, he's obsessed. He thinks it's pretty shameful, how everytime you walk in the room, his eyes light up seing your smile first, then they naturally drift toward your tits.
His dirty secret ? Has about ten pictures of his cum all over your chest. He LOVES cumming on them, painting them like the work of art he thinks they are.
But he's still shy about it, and you can see it.
Just like now, his eyes are almost begging, watching you as you bounce on his cock, his shy hands tightening around your hips. Poor boy can't help but let his eyes linger on your exposed breasts on top of him, and you feel him perfectly throbbing inside you just by the sight.
" touch them already " you roll your eyes, taking his hands in yours and putting them on both your breasts. God, he's so ashamed about the strangled moan that slips from his mouth.
" So fuckin' perfect... " His touches, are so soft but so passionate, rolling your nipples between his thumbs and always so hell bent on leaving hickeys on your skin.
He eventually starts getting more confident after some time with you. You notice that, on a night while watching TV on the couch, with you sitting on his lap. You yelp as his hands slide under your shirt, then began slowly caressing your breasts and rolling your nipples under his fingers.
" What is it, m'love ? You like when I touch these tits like I own you ? Like you're my pretty toy ? Hm, bet this slutty pussy's drippin', fucking likes it when I use your body, yeah ?"
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angelltheninth · 1 year
Note
heyyyyyyy i like your writing hehe if its okay can you do enemies x lover pariring toji x yn with a little bit of jealous and in end angry confession if not i understand , have a good dayyy!
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Are you giving me your credit card? I'm giving it back and I will throw in these headcanons.
Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, enemies to lovers, jealousy, misunderstandings, blowjob, hallway sex, marking, Toji sucks at feelings
A/N: So excited to see Toji in the next season!
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Enemy!Toji who you trade blows and heated angry kisses with in fights. You swear he only shows up in fights where he knows you'll be at. It's getting a little ridiculous actually. But you'd be lying if you denied doing the same. A little eye candy never hurts.
Enemy!Toji who flirts with you harder then he fights you. To him fighting is a form of foreplay where you both get your blood pumping and get worked up. Angry sex is pretty much the norm for the two of you.
Enemy!Toji who will beat the shit out of everyone who interferes with your fight. He won't let anyone but him toss you around and he doesn't want to fight anyone but you. He doesn't mind how bloody it gets, if the kisses hurt or sting when you kiss his bloody lip or if he's got bruises. When they're from you he wears them like a badge of honor.
Enemy!Toji who has no mercy when he's ramming his fat cock into you with complete brute force. He doesn't have to hold back because he knows you can take it, its what's so beautiful about your current relationship. You can both let out steam without fear.
Enemy!Toji who moans like a motherfucker when you leave deep gashes on his broad back and on his hips from how hard you're holding onto him. The more the better. He's not ashamed that he's enjoying your pussy, you should be more honest too. He can feel it anyway, how your walls clamp down on him, trying to keep him inside.
Enemy!Toji who is annoyed at how much you talk back. Banter is fine but he really likes to focus on the squelching and slapping sounds of your pussy and his cock. He has no choice but to fuck and pump your mouth full of cum to shut you up.
Enemy!Toji who never looks back at you when he gets dressed. He's not interested at that point, he just tells you it was fun and that he's gonna see you again soon. It gets on your nerves a little, how cocky he is, with good reason, he's quite powerful, but still gets on your nerves.
Enemy!Toji who gets worried when you don't show up for weeks on end. Not only did he lose his sparring partner but also his mouthy fucktoy. It takes him a few days to find you and imagine his surprise when he sees some guy walking out of your house.
Enemy!Toji who barges through your door and demands to know where the fuck you've been. Oh you're pissed. You fight him, you fuck him, you hate him in fact so who the hell is he to barge into your home like this and demand anything of you. Your attitude pissed him off too so he chooses to do the only thing he knew, to push himself between your legs and fuck his cock angerly into your pussy before you even have the chance to explain yourself.
Enemy!Toji who creampies you multiple times, moving you from wall to wall, to your bedroom and the bed where he spends the rest of the night. Neither of you are sure why you were angry anymore, you just want to fuck the anger away and let it give way to pleasure.
Enemy!Toji who is slow when he puts his clothes back on the next morning. He finally asks you who the guy was. Oh. That's what it was all about. You explain, interrupted with many laughs that he was your family, not someone you're fucking. Oh. Eh... he's actually not sure what to say now, he's already showed you his jealous side, no taking that back now.
Enemy!Toji who turns to look at you when he leaves, and lets you have his shirt to keep. Don't read too much into this but... next time you see each other, can it be over dinner and not on a battlefield?
743 notes · View notes
hotxcheeto · 2 years
Note
Hi! Can you write an Ellie x reader where Ellie gets mad at fem reader because of a little fight they had over something super stupid and reader is upset and apologizing but Ellie yells at her causing her to break down but Ellie is stubborn. Maybe the reader has partrol and almost dies and Ellie is super sad she didnt forgive you and its a soft fluffy ending? (Sorry for my english if its not understandable)
━ 𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄
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𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜(𝙨) - Ellie Williams  x Fem!Reader 
𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 - Cursing, angst, blood descriptions, ellie being mean, yelling, insults ( mostly to ellie ), sadness, pain descriptions, reader getting shot, mentions of pain drugs, fluff, happy ending
𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙤𝙛𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 ? - Yeah/Nope
𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧'𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚 - i hate the ending!?!?!?!?! that you for the rq! have an amazing day
REBLOGS ARE VERY APPRECIATED
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"I'm sorry." You murmured quietly, looking down at your hands as she continued roughly shoving things into her backpack. "I didn't know that it would upset you." "I just wanted five fucking seconds of peace before we had to leave."
Your mouth snapped closed instead of apologizing once more, standing quietly behind her with your bag on your shoulders. Looking down at your boots finding the dirt and water stains on them much more interesting.
"You could've just asked for some space I didn't know–" "You never know! You don't fucking ask!" She hurriedly zipped the bag, throwing the strap around her shoulder.
"We should go." Ellie said sharply "Okay.." It was awkward as she brushed passed you, the sounds of her boots being the only sound besides your shaky breathing in the room.
"I didn't mean to make you upset." Ellie huffed, all but ripping open the front door but didn't say a word walking out and leaving you to shut it. Following after her, you noticed how fast she was walking practically running away from you.
Once she got to the gate she yanked it open not even bothering to push it open for you allowing it to slam in your face.
"I'm sorry, can we please just talk about it for a second." The girl ignored you once more only making you sadder. "Please Ellie, I don't want to go out there mad at each ot–" "Just shut the hell up already!" You stopped walking, staring at her still moving form that slowly blurred with your tears that began to brim in your eyes.
You could feel people's eyes on you, but you refused to look. Afraid of what you'd see.
Instead of continuing though, Ellie turned to look at you, seeing the mix of emotions on your face. But the main one was shock, then there was the sad, staring at her like she'd just ripped your heart out and stomped on it right in front of you.
"Y/n–" You walked right past her, choking back your very audible sobs as you walked. Keeping your head down the entire time, avoiding everyone's stares as you made your way to the front gate where Dina and Jesse had been waiting on you both.
Dina had fought for you four to get this days trip together, claiming it would be more fun and more efficient. But Maria was always reluctant when it came to you guys. It was lucky you'd gotten it at all thanks to Joel who argued on your behalf.
You couldn't even be excited anymore though, only ashamed and sad. Wanting nothing more to hide in bed and cry. You felt so stupid.
"Hey slowp– what's wrong?" Dina's voice went from excited to concerned in a matter of a millisecond. "Nothing, m'fine." Dina stared at you as you walked by turning to a still frustrated Ellie after you'd gotten far enough away.
"What the fuck did you do to her?"
"Why do you assume I did something?"
"Because Y/n doesn't cry over nothing, Ellie." Jesse answered for her, turning around to walk towards you. Standing close to the gate, wiping your tears away while trying to calm yourself down.
"Hey." "I don't want to talk about it." "Alright, that's cool." He nodded, grabbing your shoulder making you look at him with your sad eyes. "Jesus Y/n." "M'sorry." You shook your head while he did the same, pulling you in for a hug. "Nothin' to be sorry for, c'mon we can walk out together."
"She's just a dick." You huffed, wiping your face. "A big one." You laughed slightly, watching Ellie and Dina pull their horses from the stalls.
"You wanna ride with me?" He then asked while you shook your head, wiping the wetness from your face once more. "No, I'm fine." "You sure?" You looked into his unsure eyes and nodded with a wobbly smile. "All good. But I'm not talking to her." "I don't blame you."
You both walked back to Dina and Ellie, Dina now visibly upset while Ellie avoided your eyes.
"Are you riding with Jesse?" Dina asked, glaring down Ellie while you shook your head with a light laugh. "No, it's okay." Dina huffed but allowed you to climb up on the back of Shimmer, Ellie sitting in front of you.
It was almost as if she waited for your hands and arms to tightly wrap around her waist. Hugging her close as per usual, no matter how hot it was you were always laid up against her back with your face squished against her shirt telling her about the different things you'd see that she couldn't catch.
But the feeling never came.
Her waist sitting empty as you guys began your journey towards a nearby neighborhood that bandits usually claimed. But lately it had seemed totally empty, bodies stringing about so Tommy had decided to send a few scouts out, the scouts being you guys.
Take a look around. That's all you had to do. Then hit everything you could on the way back, as Jackson was running low and they needed everything they could get. Simple as that, just a days run.
Scout and Scavenge.
Simple as that.
Over the course of the ride you ran over everything that had occurred earlier, missing the way Ellie would turn and glance over her shoulder at you. Seeing how you'd sniffle as you thought over every interaction you had with the girl before you left.
But something about it couldn't bring her to say sorry.
As much as the words rested on the tip of her tongue, they died out everytime she parted her mouth to speak.
Choosing silence instead.
"Hey, look ahead." It looked like smoke, clouding up from the houses. Peeking from around Ellie's body you stared at it confused.
"Didn't they say it was empty?" "Basically, with a shit ton of bodies to compliment it." Jesse replied, staring up at the steady stream of black smoke rising into the air.
"Do you think it's still burning?" "It is. Black is burning, white means it's out." Jesse laughed and turned to you. "How do you know that?" You met his eyes, shrugging. "Joel taught me." Jesse made a noise, sticking his bottom lip out while nodding.
"Do we still wanna go in?" "It could've been lit hours ago and still be burning." Dina then said, seeing you nod from the corner of her eye.
"We should leave the horses and go closer if it looks bad then we turn around and skip town." You then muttered, staring nervously at the smoke. "Yeah, let's do it." Ellie agreed, turning to look at you but your eyes were locked on the steady air rising up slowly turning gray as time went.
Sliding off of Shimmer you let Ellie hide her while Jesse did the same with Japan. Both you and Dina taking off towards the neighborhood with them following.
"You got a bad feeling about this?" "I didn't when I said it, but yeah, a little bit." You walked quietly, trying her best to ignore the holes being burned into the back of your head, Jesse and Dina quietly talking back and forth to cut the awkward silence.
"Something doesn't feel right about this." Ellie then muttered, mostly in the open air in hopes you'd reply to her comment, just a small 'yeah' would of been enough.
But nothing passed your lips, barely even noticing that she spoke. A deep gut feeling entering your stomach is what you were focusing in on.
The street looked abandon from what you could see through the trees interrupting most of it along with the high weeds and grass. It was overgrown and had plenty of places to hide, which is exactly why you guys stood so far back.
"Guys we should go back."
"Dina's right–"
You all heard it before you realized what was happening.
A loud pop, boom over however you want to describe it.
Then all eyes were on you, and at first you didn't understand why until you felt it.
The pain.
It was like it exploded, slowly looking down at your blood soaked hip when you were ripped backwards, hand hovering over the red that soaked your shirt.
Then someone grabbing you and ripping you to the floor, holding you close to their body. But everything felt like blur.
The noise around you was muffled, looking around as the time seemed to slow to a stop. Your eyes landing on the wound once more when it finally hit you, as much as it could anyway.
"What's happening?" You choked out, everything seemingly speeding up as gunshots rang through the air making you look around. Terrified at the amount of people you seen hiding around the houses and trees.
"Hey, stay awake alright?" You looked up at Ellie, holding your bloody hip with one hand and laying you down with the other. "I can't feel anything." "You're in shock." Dina then said coming over with her sweater tying it around your waist. "You have to keep pressure on it Ellie." "I can't– oh fuck– fuck!" "Breathe Ellie."
You looked around, the world seeming much brighter than before, the sun beating down on you. You felt hot, but it was cool today, and that's all you could think about until a hand rested on your cheek your eyes suddenly on hers.
"Ellie?" "You're gonna be okay, stay still." You stared at her confused, eyes traveling back down to the amounts of blood soaking through your clothes and Dina doing what she could to stop it and she seen the shock that entered your gaze.
The terror.
"Hey, look at me." Her hand shook your head getting your eyes to flicker back to hers. "It hurts..." "We have to get you back babe." You shook your head not quite understanding what was happening.
"She's delirious." Dina stated earning a look from Ellie, which she didn't understand until you began freaking out. "No m'not, let me go. What's happening?" You tried sitting up only for Ellie to stop you, "take it easy." "I wanna go home Ellie."
You began to cry, forgetting why you were upset with her and forgetting the entire argument. Reaching out for her to hold you, though as much as she wanted to sit there and comfort you she knew you didn't have a lot of time.
"Jesse I need your help."
The entire way back to the horses went by so fast you weren't even sure how you'd gotten there. Clutching onto Ellie's belt loops while pressed into her chest, the girl too worried you'd fall off sitting behind her.
You moved, feeling the warm blood trickling down your side and soaking against your jeans. Pushing your face from her shirt and looking up to her with big tear-filled eyes.
"I'm sorry." It was like she didn't hear you though, dead set on getting home. If you weren't so out of it you would've noticed the fear in her eyes and the way she bit her lip to the point it bled. Or the way she tightly held onto your body so you didn't fall over and hit the ground.
By the time the group made it back to Jackson you'd passed out. The blood dripping off your leg and onto the cement the entire way to the medic house.
And the entire way Joel carried you, Ellie only stared, seeing you disappear in the distance. Covered in red, her white shirt crimson soaked, and it was all yours, and it was her fault.
At least that's what she believed.
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"Hey." Was the first thing you heard when you woke up, soft and delicate. Just like every morning when you'd hear it muttered into your ear.
"What happened?" You muttered, rubbing your eyes and squirming around the bed you were laid in. "You got shot." "Oh." You said quite simply making her laugh under her breath. "It hurts a little." "You're on a lot of drugs." She laughed, "They had to dig it out of your hip."
You looked at her with big eyes, a beat of silence passing in the room.
"There was a bullet inside me?"
She chuckled a bit, seeing you smile and grab at her hand messing with her fingers.
"Yeah." "That's scary." "You're telling me."
It was quiet for a moment, your soft breathing the only thing left in the room while you messed with the pads of her fingers. Tapping each one before looking up at her.
"You were mean to me." "I know." Her voice was soft, staring at you will tears in her eyes. "Are you sorry?" "Yeah." "Look at me."
Ellie slowly moved to look into your eyes, your hand coming up to rest on her chin keeping her head up.
"I'm sorry.." You pouted as she began to cry, a few tears falling down her freckled cheeks. "Don't cry El." You wiped away the stray tears from her cold face, kissing the very tip of her nose.
"I'm okay now." You smiled, pressing your forehead against hers. "But you owe me big time." "I know."
"I love you Ellie. Even when you're so damn stubborn and argumentative and a dick."
"Geez, got anymore insults?" "A shit ton." "I deserve it." "Only some of them."
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A/n: vibes my laptop is dyinggggg
1K notes · View notes
revasserium · 10 months
Note
neverending daydreams with kenma? 🫶
reqs are open :)
neverending daydreams
kenma; 3,709 words; almost freakishly fluffy, but also kinda trippy. basically my specialty and i love this fic a holy freaking hell of a lot. if u read pls PLS tell me what u think u__u and lemme know if u 'get' the ending!!!
he has never been, in all seriousness, what people would have called a dreamer. but having spent most of his waking hours either gaming or wishing he were gaming, kenma quietly considers the implications of being called as such. a dreamer. what a title — what a name.
what a burden.
“was it bad last night?”
“no, not as bad… but at least it was interesting.”
“oh yeah? tell me.”
“so there was a maze, right — and then you know the super hot manga character from the new series — yeah, he was there too, and we had to like figure out this maze but we couldn’t wear shoes —”
kenma lets his head lilt to one side, his eyes falling shut in the early afternoon sun filtering through the wide classroom windows. they’d been cracked open half an hour ago to let in some air, the spring blossoming into what kenma is already sure would be an absolutely sweltering tokyo summer. he’s already dreading it.
“— and then i woke up!”
“aww… lame! you didn’t even make out!”
your laughter spills across the room, warm as the sun now soaking into kenma’s skin and he shakes himself awake, blinking unfocused towards the gaggle of girls sitting three rows ahead of him, heads bent together, a multi-limbed conglomeration of painted nails and hair pins, phone baubles and perfume. he shudders slightly — making out — what a thought. how gross. he’d never understood the appeal, even as more and more of his classmates began to whisper about it, to joke and cackle about it next to the shoe-lockers, in the stalls of the boys bathrooms during lunch, on the benches near the playparks on the way home, loitering around convenience store corners, eyes lingering on bare skin and bracelets, on rolled up sleeves and blushing cheeks.
kenma crinkles his nose, thinking now, of noses. and where on earth they’d even go if you were to —
“oi kenma-kun, do you have notes from yesterday’s class? i lent mine to kiyo in 2-b and she says her dog ate it.”
kenma blinks, nonplussed as your face swims into view, his vision catching on the tiny gems glinting from your earlobes.
“huh? you… don’t really believe that, do you?” he asks before he can quite stop himself. the resulting silence makes an uncomfortable heat climb up the length of his neck till his cheeks are burning with it, and still, you stare at him.
“why shouldn’t i? her dog eats weird stuff all the time.”
kenma blinks again, owlish, and he’s unsure if your confusion is feigned and this entire thing is just some elaborate prank, one that’ll break you into laughter any second. he resists the urge to look around, to make sure that the rest of his classmates aren’t all watching him like they’re in on the joke, waiting for the cue to start laughing as well. he feels his shoulders shrugging up as he fights down a frown.
“yeah but… that’s like the oldest excuse in the book, isn’t it? my dog ate my homework?”
this time, its your turn to blink, cocking your head to one side as you regard him, not a hint of malice or trickery in sight. he feels almost ashamed of himself for thinking it of you. of course you wouldn’t.
and then, you laugh. and he starts again, not because this was what he’d been afraid of but because this is the exact kind of laughter he was not expecting, pure and unhurried and unabashedly happy.
“ah — i guess you’re right, but… well, if she wants to keep my notes, then that’s fine. i’ll just make another set. so…” you smile at him, bright as dawn and summer starlight, “can i borrow your notes from yesterday?”
kenma resists the urge to groan, because his mind is already racing into overdrive — why not just ask kiyo from 2-b to give you back your notes again? nay, to demand that she give it back? to threaten her dog with… with what yet, kenma isn’t sure, but he is sure that that would be simpler, would it not, than to ask him for his notes. even though, sure, yes — he has almost all the same classes as you and sure, yes — he does also take pretty good notes. and sure, yes — fine.
this might be the path of least resistance but… doesn’t it feel a bit like punching in the cheatcode? isn’t it stunting… character growth and exp gain for both you and kiyo in 2-b? what if this causes a glitch in the matrix and you’re stuck in the eternal loop of borrowing people’s notes only to have your own notes be taken and eaten by kiyo’s homework-devouring dog until no one in school has notes anymore and everyone fails? would everyone have to hard-reset and start the year over?
“uh… sure… i guess. if you promise to give it back.” he reaches into his bag to pull out his notebook, pressing his lips for a second before handing it over.
you make a noise that’s caught between a squeal and a squeak. it’s a happy sound, he’s sure.
“thank you, thank you, thank you! and yes, i promise i’ll give it back! and my dog doesn’t eat homework — only table scraps and puppy treats — and maybe the occasional piece of trash on the sidewalk, but definitely no homework!”
you press the notes to your chest and beam at him and kenma finally lets out a soul-shaking sigh. he wishes he were home; he wishes he were playing video games; he wishes that the day came with a fast-forward button so he didn’t have to deal with all these scenarios that don’t make a lick of human sense.
the next day, when you return his notes, it’s with a shy smile and that he isn’t entirely sure what to make of. you’d licked your lips and looked anywhere but at him before pressing the notebook back into his chest and scurrying off with a thankssomuchforyournotes! tossed over your shoulder before you’re disappearing into your multi-limbed girl-gaggle and they were all laughing and giggling as they absorb you back into their amorphous blob, casting furtive glances his way that make his shoulders want to shrink up to his ears, if only to hide his face behind.
he hunkers down over his notebook, adjusts his sports bag and hurries into homeroom.
it isn’t until japanese literature, when he’s flipping open said borrowed-and-now-returned notebook that he notices — there’s a drawing on next blank page. or, well, what used to be the next blank page but is now definitely no longer blank. and it’s a drawing of you.
kenma stares down at it, at the cartoonishly large head, the huge, anime-lashed eyes, at your chibi-rendered hands clasped together in an unmistakable gesture of thanks. and something inside him jumps. something warm and thumping and uncoordinated. it coughs, skips, skids inside his chest and it takes him a moment to realize that it’s his heart.
thanks again! let me treat you to lunch sometime?
he reads the line four times before he finally manages to process the words. lunch. sometime.
treat?
he frowns. but school lunches are always free.
his eyes slingshot towards you, drawn as if by a magnetic force, and he finds you immediately. your eyes meet and a zing sings through him, shaking him from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. your cheeks flush, but you don’t look away. instead, you cock your head as if asking a question.
his heart thumps, and then thumps again. heat slowly unfurls in the base of his stomach, something like hunger, except it isn’t actually hunger. it’s a wanting, a thrumming wish — pressing and feverish and — he swallows hard, tearing his eyes away from you to look back down at the drawing, at the words.
treat. lunch. sometime.
sometime. but it can’t be during school. then when?
kenma freezes as realization washes through him, cold as a too-large bite of icecream.
oh. oh.
and then, he blushes hard enough for him to bury his face in his arms, refusing to pick his head up even when the literature teacher asks him expressly if he were feeling ill.
it’s saturday at noon, to be precise. and as kenma waits outside the neighborhood soba house, he wonders briefly if he’d accidentally stumbled upon a hidden side-quest that’s actually more difficult than the main storyline, because he’s almost certain that he’d never signed up for this.
cold-soba with you. alone. together.
no. he scuffs his feet against the floor, his fingers furling and unfurling in his pockets, so unaccustomed to not having a game console to fiddle with, no controllers to twiddle. he feels it like a phantom itch, like ghost-controllers as he opts for chewing on his lower lip instead.
stupid kuroo, taking away his switch. stupid, stupid, genius kuroo, letting it “slip” that kenma had a date on saturday, so that his mother had fussed all morning and had subjected him to a full-body pat down to confiscated the rest of his ill-hidden hand-held gaming consoles one by one with a scowl and a reprimand of no gaming when you’re on your first real date, kozume!
at least, he thinks, tugging his phone out of his pocket to flip through the preinstalled games there, there’s alway snake —
“kenma-kun! hi! sorry i’m late!”
your voice catches him like a punch in the stomach and he almost drops his phone, fumbling it for a second before catching it and shoving it into his pocket.
he looks up, a frown already forming on his forehead when he stops — he catches sight of you and that strange, twisting not-hunger-hunger gnaws at a growing space inside him. because oh — there you are. you’re standing in front of him, a little breathless, but dressed like… like a display from a pastry store window, or one of those ball-jointed dolls that have entire fan-followings online. you’re lashes and lace, earrings and nail-art, and all the normal things he’d come to associate with the strange, foreign concept of girl-geometry but you’re also nervous, and sweet, and looking up at him with those huge eyes, not unlike those in the chibi-doodle version of yourself that you’d left in his notebook.
and nervousness he understands. sweetness… he understands too. to a certain degree.
“no, you’re fine… i just got here too,” he says, and it’s a not-really-lie, because he did just get here… like fifteen minutes ago. but time’s just a human construct anyway, and there’s no point in getting caught up in the semantics.
he takes a breath at the same time you do, and you break into a fit of nervous laughter that makes him want to reach out and bottle the sound. or maybe just to record it on his phone for a rainy day. he tamps down the strange and doubtlessly creepy urge with a cough and motions vaguely towards the door.
“uh — you wanna…”
you nod, a bit too hard, before brushing by him into the soba shop and bowing to the middle-aged woman behind the counter.
she seats the pair of you in a booth, tucked into the corner, and for this kenma is thankful. he feels himself relaxing into the secludedness of the position.
“hot?” he asks, watching as you fan yourself with your hand from across the table.
you freeze and blush again, and he looks down immediately, feeling rather guilty for putting you on the spot. but when he glances back at you, you’re smiling.
“yeah, a little. it’s gonna be so gross this summer.”
“yeah, i know. i hate it already.”
he would’ve winced if it hadn’t been cut off by the sound of your laughter. with this, at least, he is familiar. how many times had he let himself melt into that sound during all those classes you had together? how many times had he centered himself around it, made it the still point of his turning universe, grounded himself to it so he could count from one moment to the next. he hadn’t thought it anything strange before now — after all, isn’t that what the internet says you’re supposed to do when you’re feeling unmoored? to find a commonality and stake yourself to it. only…
is it strange that he’d chosen your laughter?
it’d been such a simple choice, so easy to make — it was everywhere, and when it wasn’t there, he could conjure up the sound perfectly.
sitting across from you now, he pauses, wondering what kuroo would say if he were ever to bring this up. probably call him a pervert and never let him live it down.
“me too. i think i hate a lot of things but…” you break off, your eyes meeting his for a split second before looking away.
kenma breathes, watches the way you worry your bottom lip.
the conversation is stilted, but after a while, the awkwardness wears off. like silver soaking off years of accumulated tarnish, the shine breaking through as the soba is served and the pair of you are left slurping at the chilled noodles.
by the time he offers to walk you home, kenma finds that he’s no longer searching for things to do with his fingers, the phantom itch of a ghost-console no longer needed to occupy the space between his hands. and when you say goodbye to him this time, it’s no longer a string of words strung together too fast, tossed like an endless hope over your shoulder, but held between the pair of your bodies like a promise.
“see you on monday!”
kenma smiles, “yeah… sure. see you then.”
he watches as you turn to walk away, and his feet warm with the premonition of motion, but something holds him still, holds him there as he watches you take two steps, three steps — and then, you turn back around. and you’re closing the space between you and him, quick as a flash, your lips grazing the skin of his cheek, and then just as quickly, you’re falling back onto your just-taken steps, your cheeks ablaze as you wave a hand at him and race off before he can do more than open his mouth, his jaw loosened by the action, the thought — the motion and e-motion of it all.
kenma stares at the place where your body had just been, taking up space, and then oh-so-abruptly… not.
you’d turned the corner, and now not even your shadow lingers, but he fancies that there’s still a break in the light, a tear in the air just in front of him where you had been, warmed by your just-there-ness. slowly, he raises a hand to swipe it through that space, before bringing it up to his cheek to brush it against the place where your lips had been.
and are now no longer.
and there too, he feels his own skin, warmed by the just-there-ness of your no-longer-there lips.
three days, it takes him. three days to build up the courage to ask you out again. on another date. and this time, he doesn’t tell kuroo, or his mother, but he doesn’t bring games with him either.
the frozen yogurt place isn’t too crowded on a wednesday night, early enough to still be dinner-time, too late for the afternoon-stragglers to be out and about. he arrives, as he had done, fifteen minutes before you, and he wastes no time in starting a game of snake on his phone.
by the time you get there, it’s getting hard to maneuver the pixel-snake’s body without it’s tail trailing across the entire screen.
“i thought you’d only be into the kind of games with like… a million levels or something.”
your voice jolts him out of his intense concentration, and this time, he does drop his phone. your reach out to catch it with a knowing grin, handing it back to him, but by then, the large GAME OVER is already flashing over the screen.
“oops… sorry,” you say, looking genuinely apologetic.
“don’t be. and you’re right, i do like games with a ton of levels but… things like this are fun once in a while too.”
he blushes as he motions at the space between the pair of you, his phone still clutched in his hand, so that it’s unclear if he’s talking about the game or… something else entirely.
“only once in a while?” you venture, the slightest hint of a tease in your voice. and it’s incredible, he thinks, the change a single week’s worth of familiarity can do for the both of you. because while your first “date” had been all awkward silences and rough, stumbling changes of topic, this one — already — has taken on a sheen of smoothness and liquidity that makes kenma’s skin prickle up with what he can only assume is excitement.
“well… maybe — i dunno…” he gulps as he holds open the door for you to walk into the yogurt store, “it’s only a pattern if something happens more than three times, right?”
and god, where had this come from? this daring, this strange, almost alternate-universe confidence — and is he really flirting?
you let out a pleased sort of hum that warms his entire body and he thinks that he’d rather like to hear that sound again too. to add to his collection of bottle-able sounds that come from your body — he bites off the thought there, because kuroo will really start to call him a pervert then.
“i’m free on saturday,” you say, turning towards him to offer him a yogurt cup.
he stares at it for a second before taking it, letting his fingertips linger where they brush against yours.
“okay then,” he says, allowing himself the shadow of a smile as you ask him what his favorite yogurt flavor is, and he asks you your favorite toppings. and it’s easy like this, isn’t it? how had he ever thought this difficult? had it ever been? the bell-like sonance of your voice, the tinkling texture of your laughter, the great, blossoming fire licking up, up from the base of his stomach all the way to the top of his chest.
why had he ever scorned this as strange? as unnatural?
how could he have ever thought this to be a mere sidequest when this — he’s sure of it now — is the entire point of the game to begin with? because don’t all roads lead to this? to this giddiness and certainty? to this… unshakable knowing that he, even in his youth, is held still by in it’s immensity that this could be something more?
something like… love?
but it’s too early for that yet, and he’s getting ahead of himself. skipping the levels and peering at the walkthroughs.
he forces himself to focus on the tang of the yogurt, the crunch of the oreo chunks. he anchors himself to the grace of your smile and the weight of your laughter.
and after, when the yogurt is done and the night is still young, he offers to walk you home again. and this time, he doesn’t wait for you to close the gap between your bodies — he leans down to do it himself. because somewhere between the space of then and now, he’s made the decision that he doesn’t want the shadow or the just-there-ness anymore. he wants the just and the there. separate and whole and oh.
so that’s where your noses go.
the kiss breaks between you and kenma leans in to unbreak it.
you make a small noise at the back of your throat and he has to keep himself from grinning.
there, again, another bottle-able sound.
he inches his hand up to cup your cheek and you lean into him, pressing both your palms to his chest. and for moments and moments and moments, the pair of you stay locked there, breaking and unbreaking the kiss again and again and again until finally, you press him away to take a breath.
you are breathless, and so is he.
and briefly, oh so briefly, kenma wonders as he looks at you, stares into your eyes as you look back at him, if this could be called dreaming.
“oi… oi kenma-kun?”
kenma blinks, frowning slightly as your face swims into view, his vision catching on the tiny gems glinting from your earlobes.
“h-huh?”
your face is inches from his, and the afternoon sun is warm against his skin. the classroom behind you is filled with the scent of a blossoming spring, trailing into what kenma already knows will be an absolutely sweltering tokyo summer.
your voice rings through him like knowing, and your smile, when he finally focuses on it with bleary eyes and a buzzing mind, looks something like the remnants a dream.
“do you have notes from yesterday’s class? i lent mine to kiyo in 2-b and she says her dog ate it.”
kenma chews on his lips as he weighs the answer on his tongue, and finally, he allows himself a tiny, secret smile as he digs around in his bag for the notebook, handing it to you as he says —
“you don’t actually believe that, do you?”
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thefandomthings · 2 months
Text
Follower Milestone Event!
Hello everyone! I have finally reached 230 followers and have decided to do a prompt event! Thank you to all who are participating or interacting with the posts, its greatly appreciated!
How it works: Send a request with your character of choice and a prompt/prompts from the list bellow and ill write it!
Notice: These will not be long fics, just little drabbles. Once the prompt has been used it'll be crossed off. <3
Dividers: @/cafekitsune Masterlist Masterlist #2
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꧁༺ 𝓕𝓵𝓾𝓯𝓯/𝓢𝓸𝓯𝓽 𝓟𝓻𝓸𝓶𝓹𝓽𝓼 ༻꧂
"You can call me whenever you want, even if you don't have a reason to."
"Quite smiling at me, I can't stop messing up my sentences when you look at me like that."
"Tell me you love me."
"Can you read to me?"
"I need to go but- one more kiss."
"I like when you say my name like that."
"Your eyes are like doves, my darling."
"If the whole world was watching, I'd still dance with you."
"I love you." "Say it again." "I love you."
"You're really fucking cute when you are jealous."
"Shes not yours."
"I love your bedhead."
"You're mine."
"Why are you on the table?". "A better view of life..". "Where is the spider?". "....By the door...."
"Do you like my new dress/suit?"
"Whats on your mind? I want to listen."
"You can call me whenever you want, even if you don't have a reason to."
"I love you're lips." "Why don't you kiss them then?"
"You're utterly gorgeous, I can't stop looking at you."
"I can't live without you, darling."
"Between ice cream and you, you might be my favorite."
"You're so damn beautiful, baby. I cant believe your all fucking mine."
"You are my new pillow."
"You have a beautiful soul."
"You're enough. You are more than enough."
"I don't understand, but i believe you."
"Is that my shirt?"
"Look at you, so small and cute :3" "Shut the hell up."
"If i ever lost you, I'd fall apart."
"You own my heart."
"Dance with me."
"Can i play with your hair?"
"You ramble and its adorable."
"Give. Me. The. Remote."
"You're a woman, that alone makes you magic."
"You're the only one who calls me that. Its kinda cute."
"Its not a double date, we're just third and fourth wheeling."
"Don't you dare throw that snowba-Goddammit!"
"Should i stop talking?". "Don't, your voice is very soothing."
"You say she/he hung the moon, I say she/he hung the galaxy."
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ʜᴜʀᴛ ᴘʀᴏᴍᴘᴛs
"Every time i see you, I feel more alone."
"I'm not going to kiss you, you broke my heart."
"Where were you when I needed you most?"
"I trusted you. With everything."
"I loved you, I really did."
"It doesn't matter what i want."
"Did you really think you'd get a second chance?"
"Cant i come with you?". "You know you can't."
"I know i shouldn't be here."
"You shouldn't have come."
"That's not what I meant, and you know it."
"I don't hate you..". "I know sweetheart."
"I didn't say I don't love you!". "Well you certainly didn't say it back."
"You see them they way I see you."
"That hurt you son of a bitch..."
"I have a right to be angry."
"I thought you were dead."
"You used me, just like everyone else."
"That was never my intention, Y/n.".
"Stop lying to my face."
"Are you ashamed of me?"
"Why are you being like this?"
"Don't shut me out."
"Why wont it just stop?"
"Just talk to me."
"I would give up everything for you, my love, but I shouldn't have to."
"You're late."
"I love the way you hate me."
"Sorry doesn't fix everything."
"You could have died!". "I didn't-". "Well you were pretty fucking close."
"You're not a bad guy."
"Isn't it enough yet?"
"I woke up, and you were gone."
"Those things you said yesterday....Did you mean them?"
"I'm not sure how many coffees it takes for me to be happy, but so far, its not twelve."
"Just admit I'm right."
"Just admit you're wrong."
"Don't yell at me."
"That wasn't what i asked."
"Please don't make me answer that..."
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𝙎𝙪𝙜𝙜𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙚 𝙋𝙧𝙤𝙢𝙥𝙩𝙨
"Make me."
"Can I sit in your lap?"
"Say the word and I'm yours."
"We have to make this quick."
"Does it make you nervous when I stare?"
"...Or we could just get naked?"
"You either shut up, or I make you."
"Don't give me that look."
"First one to make a noise losses."
"Close the door."
"Wait your turn, love."
"Behave."
"Ngl, that turned me on."
"Come here."
"Oh really?"
"I only want to please you."
"Again."
"You have 5 seconds to get upstairs."
"Is there a reason why you are naked in my bed?"
"Stop moving."
"You could be wearing a trash bag, and I'd still want you."
"Thought we could do a little more than just kissing."
"Look me in the eyes."
"Give me your hands."
"Sit down. Now."
"I think we should have another."
"Take it off."
"You are so perfect."
"More."
"Hold still."
"This is new."
"Lay back.''
"Eyes on me."
"You belong to me."
"Bite me.". "Don't tempt me sweetheart."
"Fuck." "Already did that."
"Watch your tone."
"Since it's you, Ill let it go...Just this once, understand?"
"You think you can run that pretty little mouth of yours whenever you want?!"
"Yell at me again, and Ill give you a reason to scream."
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dowsinsanity · 4 months
Note
hellooo, im new to tumblr and this is my first time asking someone for a request so i hope its okay😭
currently obsessed with cowboy james so like im thinking james wanted to take you over to his barn thingy to show you his horses. (and he named one after you, super cute) then you guys mess around there for a few hours and finally come home. but when you come home, james starts to randomly get intimate which gets pretty heated.
ITS JUST A THOUGHT BUT ITS DRIVUBG ME CRAZY
HII (im a shit bag and this have been rotting in the ask box for a month 🧍🏻) my excuse? Uni life🥰🥰
!!!: cream pie
So you meet this man in a bar where they had one of those mechanic bulls yk? And you go up and he is (but you don’t know that) starring at you, like he already founds you irresistible but now that you are on top of that thing and not. Falling. The way you move your hips has this man mesmerised. Once you win the bar owner gives you your own cowboy hat, and James by this point is already aching for you.
He is a gentleman, so he introduces himself and offers you a drink. After a couple whiskeys you agree to go to his barn next day.
The morning rises up as you prepare yourself to your kinda date w James, he picks you up, and after a couple songs singed along by the two of you on his truck, you arrive to his barn.
He walks you through it, shows you everything and then, he presents his horses to you, you didn’t like horses that much but one beautiful black one caught your attention…
-i like that one. You say while stroking the horse hair
You do?. He giggled a little. You know what you’re going to like the most?
-What?
Previously of you two meeting yesterday at the bar, James got his hands on a beautiful black purebred horse, although he really didn’t know how to named it. But then, he met you, at first he thought it was cringy as hell to name his horse after you, you were only a girl he met at a bar, what if this didn’t work out?, well, who cares?, your name fitted the animal perfectly so he wouldn’t regret it.
That horse name is yours. He said, w a big smile on his face
-You’re kidding. You shouted, you couldn’t believe him
Nope, im not. He came closer to you, and he bent a little to whisper something softly to you.
You know? I’ve been curious since last night about you riding that bull… are you that good of a cowgirl in bed?
You could feel him grinning against your ear as your whole body felt hot. He looked at you, both eyes meeting and with no hesitation he kissed you, at first softly to see you reaction, but once he was given the green light, he practically devoured you, he grabbed you and lifted you and took you to his bedroom (the house is near the barn okay?)
He rapidly took your clothes off and kissed and nipped all your body, you were impatient for him, but, even if he was desperate, he took his time with you, he made the time to kiss down your body and to face your core.
Someone is needy huh?. He said grinning
-shut up. You replied
As you wish. After saying that, he was bullying your pussy w his tongue and fingers, you were almost ashamed to say that you were going to cum that fast but it didn’t mattered at this point.
After you came, he gently kissed your thighs and started undressing himself. Your intentions were to suck him of but he stopped you.
I would love that honey but i might burst a minute into it and all i want is that pussy right now. He said as he lay down and guided you to get on top.
You started grinding your pussy on his leaking dick, he was grabbing your hips, “guiding” the movement, but you were the one in control.
F-fuck, i- please, put it in. He panted, struggling to get the words out
You did as he pleased and started taking all of him slowly, once it was all in, you were riding him fast, you could see in his face that he was getting close, but once you distracted, he already put you in all fours and was going hard on you.
It seems that the bull has been able to defeat the cowgirl, huh?. He whispered in your ear
You couldn’t care less about winning or losing, you two were just about to cum and you were at his mercy.
This pussy is taking me so well. He said panting. Might as well fill it, don’t you think?
A lot of yeses came out of your mouth as you came and felt his seed inside of you…
Did so good hun, but, you have to practice your cowgirl skills. He said
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nburkhardt · 1 year
Text
Steve has seen many weird things in his life, the last three years especially. Seven foot tall monsters, demo dogs, a girl with super powers, Russians under the mall. Traumatizing stuff, but over all weird stuff. Before all that happened, he thought the weirdest things would be little kids eating flowers or Munson climbing on tables at lunchtime.
But this? This takes the cake.
~~~~~
Vecna is defeated and done, burnt to a crisp with a shit ton of holes in his body thanks to Nancy’s sawed off shot gun. Before they leave the body, Nancy takes one last shot to his head just in case.
They’re walking back to leave when they notice all the dead demo-bats and… and a body.
Seeing Eddie dead on the ground hurts, makes their success bitter and now what do they do? All of them were supposed to make it out, defeat the evil and then celebrate all together. They can’t do that now. Whatever good feeling they had is gone, evaporated into the air with only a numbing sensation left in its place.
Getting out of the upside down with a dead body takes work but they make it happen. They refuse to leave him behind, they’ll bury him and make sure everyone knows that Eddie Munson was a good person. He helped save people, NDA be damned. Nancy is already swearing up and down that whatever cover up will include Eddie in good light.
They won but they lost and none of them know what to do now.
~ Two Weeks Later ~
Saving the world only feels good in the moment. That adrenaline rush feels incredible, but it never lasts long enough for Steve. This time especially with losing someone he thought maybe they could be friends.
It’s even worse because he has to work. He helped save the world and yet he’s back at his pointless job, putting tapes on shelves for a living and listening to mom’s complain about their kids grabbing pg13 movies without them knowing, only finding out when it’s playing and then “….skin showing! They are only twelve! I cannot believe you would let just anyone rent this, this is not responsible. You should be ashamed of yourselves!”
Steve blinks at her, bored and not ashamed at all. Since, “Ma’am, you rented this out. It says so on the computer here.”
She only scruffs at him before turning around to march back out of the store with the door slamming shut behind her. Leaving him alone, still bored out of his mind. It’s the one day where Robin isn’t working with him, leaving him to do both stocking and working the register. It’s made worse by people’s complaints, weird preverts and kids trying to rent rated r tapes.
“Save the world, still gotta work a nine to five” he mumbles to himself and dropping his head against the counter with a groan. He has another few hours of this, it’s already a long day.
“Ya know, maybe you should put that on a shirt, it’s a great conversation starter”
Steve jolts up with wide eyes because that’s a voice he hasn’t heard in two weeks, can’t hear that voice because the body it belongs to is buried six feet under ground in the goddamn cemetery. He should know because he visited the grave yesterday.
But right in front of him is clearly Eddie Munson with a smirk and still in the goddamn hellfire shirt, leather jacket with his dumb ripped jeans and bullet belt. His face is clean, no trace of bites or even blood. There is something off about him, like he’s fuzzy and not in focus. Which is weird because Steve swore he put contacts in this morning.
“What the fuck?” Is the only thing he can manage to say, he feels frozen staring at the man he grieved, “Munson, what the- you died!”
Eddie cocks his head to the side with a frown and goes to pat his body when the goddamn bell from the door rings and suddenly he just vanishes. Evaporated into thin air.
“No greeting?”
He shakes his head to clear it, maybe- maybe he’s seeing things. Maybe it’s due to only getting three hours of sleep last night, or maybe it’s from lack of water and food today. Hell, maybe it’s from the endless concussions he gets.
“Kid you good?”
“Uh, yeah, yeah- I’m,�� he shook his head again before plastering his customer service smile on before looking at the guy in front of him, “I’m good, sorry. How can I help you?”
He pushes the idea of seeing Eddie out of his mind, a quick late rush of customers and one shitty sandwich for his break and he’s done with work for the day.
Not only is it the one day Robin doesn’t work, but it’s dnd night and he still drives Henderson to the Wheelers house. So, he only has time for a quick change of clothes before leaving his house to grab the kid.
Since Mrs. Wheeler insists on feeding him, he ends up sitting in the basement listening to the kids bicker over the game. It’s a nice distraction from the day.
Once he’s back at home, enjoying a hot shower. Singing ‘Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! (A Man After Midnight)’ to himself, taking his time washing his hair
“There's not a soul out there, No one to hear my prayer” he sings out while pushing out the soap in his hair, “gimme, gimme gimme a man after-“
“Midnight!” Another voice joins in and he screams, opening his eyes and everything is blurry since he took his contacts out and with the steam from the water. But that was definitely another voice and not just any voice, but fucking Eddie’s voice. “You got a decent voice, Harrington. Or maybe it’s just that you’re in the shower”
Sliding the shower door, he blinks hard to clear his vision and hopefully see. Then like at work, there’s a fuzzy looking Eddie wearing the same outfit he died in. He’s leaning over with a smirk, “Big Boy, indeed, Harrington”
His eyes widen and he closes the door with a slam, trying his hardest not to slip while freaking the fuck out. “You’re going crazy, that’s it. It’s gotta be, he’s dead and you’re feeling guilty. Eddie Munson is dead and buried, there is no way he’s here and fucking saw my-“
“Oh, I definitely saw you, that nickname was just to make you flush but fuck is it everything now.” Eddie’s voice interrupts him, and it seems closer now but he’s eyes are shut. He’s squeezing his eyes closed while also using one arm to cover it up too. “Aw, come on, big boy! I’ve been trying to get someone- anyone to see me!”
He hears both amusement and desperation in the voice, but he can’t move now. The water is turning cold and he can’t move because he’s going crazy. “Maybe, maybe it’s brain damage! That’s gotta be it”
“Harrington- Steve, I swear on Dustin’s mother. I’m here, like really here. Don’t- I don’t know why, or how, but I am” Eddie’s voice is just desperate now, no trace of amusement. “I’m-“
Steve shakes his head moving his arm away before taking a deep breath and opening his eyes, immediately finding a frown on Eddie’s transparent face. “There’s- there’s no way. You’re just a figment of my imagination- my brain’s way of dealing with your death. I- I wasn’t even your friend.”
He watches as Eddie frowns, nods then just…vanishes.
His sleep schedule has been fucked up since 1983, maybe even before that actually. Having parents that liked to travel and grandparents that wanted to know their only grandchild. Traveling didn’t help his sleep schedule, then 1983 when they trapped and attacked the demogorgon, it became nearly nonexistent.
Tonight is no exception. He’s been tossing and turning for two hours now, it’s nearly three in the morning.
“Okay, before you say anything-“
He bolts upright with a racing heart, looks around and again, there’s a fuzzy transparent Eddie Munson. He’s currently floating at the end of his bed and his face it looks tired. Like he’s the one who can’t sleep, too wired and worried.
“Sorry, sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you…again. But I thought maybe, maybe I could help? You seem restless… which I guess I caused it today but! I can read to you,” he looks around, makes him frown and follows him. Noticing how bare his room is right now, “okay, maybe not read. But I can come up with something! Like like, about this tough king that’s secretly a huge softie and everyone doesn’t know about this side of him. He remembers the tiny details of his friends, or makes sure those who work for him are supported and loved. Everyone in this kingdom-“
He’s slowly pulled under sleep, his eyes slipping shut and the sound of a dead man’s voice makes his racing heart calm down enough for a deep sleep.
The next morning, there’s no Eddie. He chalks up that whole day to his brain being fucked up from all the concussions. There’s absolutely no way he kept seeing and unintentionally talking to Eddie, no way Eddie of all people would talk about him like that to help him fall asleep.
It’s just not possible.
——————
Another day goes by with his fucked up brain conjuring up Eddie, then another and another.
He accepts it after a week passes with Ghost Eddie. Mostly because it’s actually quite nice, once he got used to someone suddenly appearing and vanishing at random times. It became easy enough to actually fully talk to Ghost Eddie, admitting things he wouldn’t say to anyone else. Especially to an alive Eddie Munson, but that one he can’t talk to. So, he’ll take what he can get since talking things out with Ghost Eddie makes sleepless nights nearly nonexistent.
No one knows about it, he can’t bring himself to actually tell them how fucked his brain is now. Too afraid they’ll really think he’s stupid now.
“I’m telling you, that lady is definitely cheating on her husband. I heard her!” Ghost Eddie tells him as Steve is handing over a tape to said apparent cheater.
He doesn’t bother with faking a smile. Because he’s holding back a laugh at Ghost Eddie’s gossip, “Remember to bring this back next Thursday and to have it rewound for us. Have a great day!”
Once the bell jingles, it’s just him in the store with his now ghostly partner. He turns around to face said partner, “Dude, don’t gossip in my ear about the person right in front of me!”
Ghost Eddie rolls his eyes, “Stevie, no one else can hear me. I’m safe from assholes, remember I’m a ghost”
“Ha ha, very funny Munson. But you saying that shit is going to make me laugh and look like the crazy person I already am.” He rolls his own eyes, “I mean, I’m talking to a figment of my imagination right now. Someone heard this I’d be thrown in the loony bin”
“I keep telling you, I’m not a figment of your imagination. I’m really a ghost dude, why can’t you-“
The bell from the door makes him jump, turning to find his friends standing right there.
———
This is totally inspired by a quote from Scooby Doo. Velma telling Shaggy, “there’s no such thing as ghosts” to which Shaggy says back, “well does the ghost know that?” And it made me laugh and thought what if 🤣 SO! We got Ghost!Eddie hanging around Steve.
We’re not going into specifics on how, we’re here for silliness and some angst. If anyone has suggestions on the conversion with his friends, I’m all ears 👀
@i-less-than-three-you @artiststarme
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zeldahime · 2 months
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Highway to Pail Day 12
[Day 1] [Prev] [Next] @do-it-with-style-events
February 12: I wasn't sure how to start the day, but then it dawned on me.
Aziraphale's temptation of Queen Eleanor had been an enormous success, and he had hoped that Crowley had reaped plenty of benefits from it from Hell during the years Aziraphale was stuck in damp old England, in so many ways greatly reduced from what it had been during the reign of Arthur and much less cultured than the courts of continental Europe. Not that he was ungrateful; Eleanor's determination to bring the English court up to speed had provided him with plenty of opportunities to dole out blessings and inspirations under the umbrella of solidifying the reach of the Church over the last few years. As that may be, he was nevertheless incredibly gratified to be part of the contingent returning to Poitiers, returning to a more agreeable part of civilization where Love, in the form of music and poetry and literature, was held in particular esteem.
This dedication to the celebration of Love was of course the reason his heart raced and face threatened to erupt into the most enchanted of smiles after passing through the palace gates. The dashing figure with red hair and glasses watching the queen's procession with a carefully constructed scowl on his face officially had nothing to do with it.
Said dashing figure also officially had nothing to do with how Aziraphale slipped away the moment he could be spared, as late night began to slip into early morning. He had told the humans he was off to find some rest, and the fact that he was instead found by Crowley in a dark and disused corridor only a single lamp lit was a carefully constructed coincidence.
"Now, what is an angel like you doing in a place like this?" a velvet-dark voice asked from behind him, and he turned to face it as slowly as he could manage, heart jackrabbiting in his chest. It had been so long since he'd seen his friend, and here he was: an oil slick in the dark, body twisted sinuously in his lean against the wall in a way that almost seemed impossible for a human-shaped corporation, glasses pushed up roguishly into loose russet hair and yellow eyes turned molten in the scant lamp light. He looked and sounded like sin incarnate, and Aziraphale had dearly missed him.
"Crowley," he breathed.
"When I asked you to do the England job, you didn't actually have to go to England," Crowley said, clearly trying for sardonic but actually landing somewhere near whiny. "The job was in Paris; you could've been back here by the end of the month."
"I had work in England; I wrote you, or did you not get those letters? I would have preferred to come back to Poitiers straight away, you know. The Court of Love is ever so much more appealing than the Court of Curtmantle."
"Court of Lust, more like," Crowley sneered. "I've been doing work too, you know, inspiring humans to all kinds of extramarital whatsits." Something hot and possessive burned in Aziraphale's chest at that; he immediately pushed it down, pushed it aside. He didn't want to know why he didn't want to think of Crowley inspiring humans to lust. "Sleeping with other people's wives, that thing. Made it all the rage with knights, your Court of Love has. Getting great results for Downstairs."
Aziraphale raised his eyebrows. "That may be so, Crowley, but how many more of them are simply experiencing love in its many facets? Courtly love is a beautiful thing. Devotion and dedication toward a deserving lady allows practice of the devotion likewise to be shown to God, and furthers Her mandate—"
"Oh, save it for the report, Aziraphale," Crowley snapped. "Don't justify it to me." Aziraphale shut up, feeling vaguely ashamed and wondering exactly where he had misstepped, and folded his hands in front of himself. Crowley stared at him for a moment, tongue—unforked at the moment, Aziraphale noticed, and also noticed he was disappointed, ridiculously, what Crowley chose to do with his tongue was his own business—running over his teeth.
Crowley appeared to make a decision, then snapped his fingers, a lute miraculously appearing in his hands. He slowly stepped closer to Aziraphale, seeming to allow him time to retreat if he wanted to, though from what Aziraphale couldn't fathom. Aziraphale stepped back in concert with Crowley until he was flush to the corridor wall and allowed the approach, allowing himself to be cornered in a show of trust he hoped Crowley would appreciate. Crowley stepped in so close they were nearly touching, only a few inches and an instrument separating their corporeal forms.
"Let me show you—" Crowley began, his voice high, then he cleared his throat. He took a deep breath and released it, and Aziraphale could feel it warm against his cheek like a breeze; he had the bizarre urge to bottle it up for safekeeping. Crowley began again, voice closer to a rough rumble Aziraphale supposed he must think was fashionable. "Let me show you what kind of temptations I've been working on, angel."
Crowley played a simple melody, singing in Occitan about a man who took to bed with his lover each night, who had fair hair and blue eyes; he sang about the watchful nightingale who warned the man each night of the return of her friends, of her mother, and then finally of her husband. His voice was sweet, the lute an urgent counterpoint. The song was soft, gentle, romantic. Aziraphale quite forgot to breathe. He'd no idea Crowley even liked music, and here Crowley was giving him a private concert with skill that would be envied by the most accomplished of troubadours.
As Crowley finished, his intense gaze dropped from Aziraphale's eyes and Aziraphale carefully did not think of where he might be looking, instead focusing on turning his automatic nervous system back online. The humans would notice if he wasn't breathing, and he didn't like to forget until they said something.
"What a lovely song," he eventually managed to say. "A beautiful serenade."
Crowley looked him in the eyes again and smiled in that sideways way of his, as though Aziraphale had said something that was a private joke between them. "It's an alba, actually. Meant to be sung in the morning. Start off at dawn with a bit of lust, let it follow them through their whole day, you wouldn't believe what humans get up to at night. Or halfway through the afternoon."
Aziraphale raised his hand to... he didn't know what. He didn't have to figure it out, though, as Crowley stepped back out of the little bubble he had constructed around the two of them with the song, tripping slightly as he hurried to put a more polite distance between the two of them. Aziraphale dropped his arm, joining his hands together again and fiddling with his ring.
"Good to see you again, Aziraphale," Crowley said too loudly. "Sun'll be up soon. We'd better get back before we're missed."
Aziraphale watched as Crowley stepped backwards once more then sideways into a connecting hallway, feeling as though his heart was going with him, thinking he'd missed something important but not having the faintest idea what.
Author's note:
This is not set in any particular year except "the latter 12th century" because I fudged timelines like I'd just been made Willy Wonka's head chocolatier, but the Eleanor in question is Eleanor of Aquitaine, one of the most fascinating queens of all time, sometime after her marriage to Henry II of England. Her court at Poitiers might or might not have actually been known as the Court of Love, but without a doubt she was a fervid patron of the arts, including of troubadours.
An alba is a poem about lovers who spend the night together but must part at dawn before they're caught. The example on Wikipedia has nightingales in it. There was no way I wasn't going to use this to fill the prompt.
I found this website with lyrics and instrumentals of a bunch of High Medieval songs in both Occitan and English, and listened to this playlist of troubadour music while writing.
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scummy-writes · 7 months
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"What were you thinking? You could've been hurt!" w/ Silvio or "I ran here to catch you before you left. I need to tell you something." w/ Isaac <3 uwu Whichever works best for you~
Night air doesn't cool the fury running through your veins, nor the heat in your eyes. All it manages to do is keep you from the main street, annoyed with it brushing your hair in your line of sight.
Its there, between stone walls, that you finally breathe. A shuddering release of air, causing your hands to clench further, nails digging painfully into your palms. Here, you'd be alone. Here, you could seethe and let your bitter tears flow.
Yet, that damned jangling noise seems to haunt you further. In the near distance, you could hear each clank of jewelry coming closer with each step he took. And in that moment, you're still too pissed to think clearly. Instead, you turn to dive further into the alleyway, biting your lip near to the point of blood. Because if you see him, you'll break. You know you would. And damned if you'd let him know that.
But your luck only goes so far with you before you hear his voice, barking out at you. You try to ignore it and perservere, however his firm grip grasps your wrist like a vice, tugging you back towards him.
"Ya can't just run off like that! What are you, crazy?!"
"Let me go!"
"What were you thinkin'? Runnin' off into a backway like this. What if there were creeps- you could have been hurt!"
Each concern of his is blown away. His fingers still hold your wrist, and in a fit of anger overtaking you, you tug with such an intensity that Silvio finally shuts up for a moment as you take your hand back.
"Like you give a shit, you've been a creep since the first day we met!"
"Wha- when the hell have I ever hurt you like that? I wouldn't stoop that fuckin' low!"
"Yeah? Well you're fully willing to hurt me in other ways, you bastard!" In your anger you finally face him, voice shrill as tears finally shed- much to your dismay. But you're tired. You're so tired of wanting to be treated as more. More than just an outlet for whatever his whims were.
And in the heat of your emotions, you neglect to notice how taken aback he is as you continue to yell, "I have my limits too!! You can't keep treating me like that!"
Those words seem to echo against the stone walls, and all you register is Silvio's eyes wide in shock. There isn't disgust or anger on his face, but another emotion creeps in. And, just as quick, Silvio looks away.
...but the tips of his ears still poke through his hair, letting your see how red they are before he curses out again.
"Just... let's go back, okay? You can tear me a new one then when we're out of this damn freezing weather. Yer gonna get sick."
In the silence, your breath comes a little easier. The night air settles into your bones, almost all at once, reminding you of how you're not a pit of fire and brimstone- you're human, and you're cold. The streaks down your cheeks hurt, and you're quick to rub your palms against your arms, the fight slowly seeping out of you now that tears had come and gone.
"....Okay."
That one word takes all the air from your lungs.
You can hear a sharp slew of words, but Silvio finally turns towards you. Avoiding your gaze, he all but tosses you his cloak, muttering out about how crazy you are once again.
But after his warmth is around your shoulders, making you feel small and watched for, you hear another muttering of words, ones he'd be too ashamed to admit he finally said. And just like that, guilt eats you alive, mixed in with heavy embarrassment.
Both of you could have bad days, it seemed.
-----
Pre-relationship *nods*. I like the idea of a couple bickering their way into each others hearts. I'll let you decide whatever they argued about. In my mind, its not as serious as it sounds, she just hit a Breaking Point and Silvio is fucking bewildered that she had one.
Thank you for sending smth in!!
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