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darnell-la · 3 months

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Tattoo kink - Eddie Munson

word count: 1.4k

pairing: kinky!eddie munson x tatted!reader

summary: there’s just something about hearing the word tattoos roll off of y/n’s tongue. Eddie never knew he had a tattoo until he found out y/n had a few. what has gotten into him? he doesn’t know, but he can’t get rid of the need of her.

WE DO NOT ALLOW COPIES OF ANY OF OUR STORIES!

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Y/n’s pov

"Well, isn't it my favorite costumer?" Eddie said as he opened the front door to his trailer. "Hey, Eds," I said as I walked into his house after he moved to the side, inviting me in.

"Your room?" I asked. "Yepr," he said, so that's where I headed. "You don't have to give me extras or anything for free this time, okay?" I said in a soft voice, trying to convince him not to for once.

"You always give me extra or my purchases for free and I feel, I don't know, sad sometimes?" I said as I entered his room with him right behind me.

"I'll always give you extras, y/n. Don't feel sad," he said as he walked over to his desk to grab his lunch box with all kinds of things in it.

Maybe Eddie gives me extra because I'm the so called queen of Hawkins. Or maybe it's just because I'm nice, but I hate it. I hate not being able to pay him the full price.

"What is that?" Eddie asked. I followed his eye gaze and it ended up at my thigh. "Oh, just a tattoo," I said. That small smile he always has on his face instantly dropped after the word tattoo.

"You, uh, you have a tattoo?" He choked. "Yeah," I chuckled. "Could I, uh, see?" He asked. "Of course," I said. In an instant, Eddie dropped down to his knees right in front of me and placed his lunch box on the floor.

He slowly traced his hands up my thigh before lifting my skirt up a little until my tattoo showed fully. "This is, uh, this is very pretty," he said, making me blush a little. "Aww, thank you," I said.

"Do you perhaps have anymore?" He asked. "Yeah, but their under my shirt and skirt," I said. I'd have to get naked to show them all.

I have a back, shoulder, stomach, hip, backbone and chest tattoos that's right above and in the middle of my toe breast.

"Could I maybe see?" He asked in a slight desperate voice, but I ignored it. "Well, uh, I —Fuck it! Yeah, you can," I said. It's Eddie and I love how interested he is into my tats.

As I stood up, he did as well. I slipped off my skirt and pulled off my tight shirt, revealing all of my tattoos. His jaw dropped but in a good way. "That's not it," I said then turned around, showing more.

"Fuck," he cussed under his breath, making me think more into what's happening right now. Does he have some kind of tattoo kink? Why would he cuss under his breath or ask to see them in such need?

"Yeah…” I dragged my word as I turned around. He's still checking my tattoos out which gave me time to look in his eyes. He looks very needy.

"You don't know what you do to me, y/n," Eddie said low as he slowly took a couple of steps towards ms until he was right in front of my face.

Eddie looked down at himself, making me look down as well and that's when I saw it. He’s hard.

"E-Eddie," I stuttered as I backed up but only to fall back on his bed. "This is what you do to me, y/n," Eddie said as he stepped towards me to close the gap between us.

My face is now directly in front of his manhood pocking and trying to find it's way out.

"Eddie, I think I should go," I said. I already get nervous around him when I don’t know he’s attracted to me. How will I be when I know fire sure he wants me at this very moment?

"Aw, come on, princess. It won't hurt to let me work you while a scan all of your tattoos," he said as he leaned down towards my face. Our lips are only inches away from each other.

“I know you'd like that, y/n,” he said. "I can't, Eddie," I stuttered as I got up but instantly got pushed back down softly.

"Princess — Don't make me fuck you in the way you tell your friends you want to be fucked by me," Eddie said, making my eyes widen. Why would they tell him!?

"What? I — No, they're lying!" I said. "Don't lie to me," Eddie said as he grabbed my face. "Understood?" He asked. "Y-Yes" I quickly said. I can't believe this is actually happening.

"You know what? I’m not even going to ask you what you want. I heard you like dominance," he said. "And that I'll give you," he said then turned me around quickly and pinned my wirst behind my back.

"Eddie wait!" I said, not actually wanting him to wait. I want him to keep going but I have to act as if I’m not giving in already. That’s one of my kinks. Having someone want me more than I want them, and he knows it.

"Are you gonna let me fuck you dumb while I scan you baby?" he asked in my ear as he pulled his jeans down along with mine. He’s so fast but soft.

"Eddie," I slightly moaned at the way he's handling me. "I knew you wanted this. I should’ve started sooner," he said as he pulled my lower body to the edge of his bed before tuning me around on my stomach.

I didn’t see anything, but I heard him spit on his hand and rub it all in on his length. I chose to lay my head back and not look at his length. I want to be surprised, but by the print in his pants, I know he’s huge.

"You ready, princess?" He asked. "It won't be that bad, baby" he chuckled, probably knowing he’s the biggest I’m about to have. Eddie began to push into me slowly. "Fuck," I moaned low as I buried my face in the sheets.

"So beautiful, princess," Eddie chuckled with a grunt. "You're so tight," the tall boy groaned as he finally made it all the way into me.

"Eddie, Eddie," I whined because of how deep he’s in me. It feels like he's in my stomach and I don’t know how that’s possible.

"Ssh, baby. Lets me work you," Eddie whispered in my ear. Eddie began to move his hips in a slowly but fast paste. He definitely knows how to fuck. He’s the best I’ve ever had, and we just started.

"That's what I like to hear. All coming from my pretty little piece of art," Eddie said as he traced his hand down my back, following my tattoos. Low groans came out of his mouth, probably from how I look from the back as he's fucking me.

"I wanna fuck you any and everywhere now, baby," Eddie said as he leaned down to my ear. "I wanna fuck you in places to remind you every time you walk by," he added.

"I wanna fill you up in front of all the boys at school who call me a freak. You're definitely a freak to, baby. My freak. All these tattoos are meant for me to see as I'm fucking you," Eddie couldn’t stop talking.

Eddie quickly leaned back up, tugged on my hair with one hand as he pushed my waist down with the other and started slamming into me. I swore I squirt a little without warning.

"Getting wetter? You like it rough, huh?" he asked before thrusting faster which I thought was impossible. "There we go, baby. Now you can't hide your moans," he said as he pulled my head back a little more than before.

"Fuck, Eddie!" I whined out loud, finally cuming all over his legs and the floor. "Ahh, that's it," he groaned as he slowed his paste down and eventually came in me.

After he was done he took a few deep breaths before pulling out of me. Eddie pulled me back onto the bed then laid down next to me.

"You're so amazing, y/n," Eddie said as he turned towards me. I did the same. "I wish I knew how much of a freak you were earlier," he spoke.

"H-How do you know I'm a freak?" I asked. "Those stomach and back tattoos are specifically for sex, baby. You’re not slick,” Eddie said, making me laugh with him.

"Yeah," I dragged. He and I looked each other in the eyes for a few seconds until he broke the silence. "Will you be mine?" He asked. I instantly smiled

"Of course, Eddie Munson," I said. Both of us leaned in for a long but short kiss before cuddling up in his bed. I never thought that this would happen. I've dreamt of it, but I never really thought anything would happen.

#18+#18+ content #18+ fic #18+ minors dni #18+ only #18+ post #smut #eddie the freak munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie stranger things #eddie munson #dom!eddie munson #dominate #dominance and submission

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zorrasucia · 11 months

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Teach Me Tonight - Part 2

[Part 1] Part 2: [Part 3] [Deleted Scene] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Deleted Scene] [Part 8]

Reader x Carmy Berzatto (The Bear FX)

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Smut, Set sometime after the opening of The Bear, Porn with a little plot, Virgin!Carmy, Mutual masturbation, P in V sex, Quickie, Oral (F receiving), Both Carmy and Reader have a bit of a praise kink

Summary: Either Carmy was a very good student or you were absolutely crazy about him. Maybe both.

After that night, something changed in Carmy. He seemed a lot more comfortable touching you - actually, he seemed to crave it. He didn't mind if Sydney or Tina saw him kissing you good night, usually a quick peck at the back door of the restaurant, promising to text him when you got home. Sometimes, however, the day ended with him cornering you against the back alley, kissing you like he was a man starved, and then wishing you good night with his hair ruffled and a satisfied smirk. Your schedules didn't permit much more but what you had was good.

The bell on the front door rang.

You looked up and found Carmy changing the door sign to closed and walking up to you with purpose.

"Hey, you okay?" you asked with concern.

"Can I steal you for a minute?" he said, out of breath.

"Sure!"

He grabbed your wrist and dragged you into the changing room.

"Carmy, wha-"

He started kissing you, dirty, his tongue eager and his hands everywhere. After the initial shock, you sighed into his embrace, enjoying the feeling of him all around you, tracing the muscle of his arms over his shirt. You hummed into his mouth.

Pleasure took over and when Carmy started undressing you, you followed suit. You opened you legs to bracket one of his thighs, getting close. He seemed to enjoy it, grinding against you. It was a lot; the feeling of him vibrating out of his skin on your front and the wall on your back...

"Fuck," Carmy breathed hard against your neck as he unbuttoned his trousers and yours. Before you knew it, he had taken your trousers and your underwear off all at once.

"You brought something?" you asked into his ear, out of breath and needy.

"Yes, I got you, yes," he groaned as he put the condom on.

You smiled into his shoulder. He was desperate, out of his mind with want, and he still took care of you. That tenderness turned into lust quickly though when his arms lifted you up against the wall so that you had to hold his shoulders with all your strength and cross your legs behind his waist. He started pounding into you hard, a little painful, the sounds he made were feral - it was so so good.

"Jesus, fuck!" he growled on the side of your face.

You couldn't speak, the only thing you could utter were choked out, wanton moans.

Your orgasm surprised you. Between one thrust and the other, you started shuddering with pleasure. It was almost silent, but overwhelming all the same. His hair tickled at your cheek and your legs shook around his waist. Carmy kept you upright as he went on, chasing his peak, and you let him, whispering encouragement.

"That was so hot, Carmy, so fucking hot," you mumbled. "I'd let you do that to me every day."

His hips stuttered then. He let out a moan so lewd that it made you curl your toes and hum with pleasure. He lowered you to your feet as gently as he could with his arms and legs trembling.

"Holy shit," he sighed.

"You can say that again," you replied, your fingers carding through his hair. "What happened?"

"Dunno," he was still trying to catch his breath, lingering in your embrace. "I just- couldn't stop thinking about you. What I'd do to you. And then the lunch rush and- I felt like I needed you right now or I would die."

You nodded, your heart beating faster even though you both were still.

"I haven't stopped thinking about you either, for the record. Ever since, you know..." you blushed.

"I didn't think it would be that good," he confessed, his face hidden in your neck. "I can't stop thinking about it," he caressed your lower back. "I feel like a fucking teenager or, I don't know, Richie."

You both laughed.

"I think it's sweet," you said after a while.

He took a step back to look at you, disbelief painted all over his face. But you leaned over and kissed him tenderly to clear up any doubts.

"Come on," you said. "Let's get dressed before they realize you're missing."

Carmy put his boxers on and then helped you dress, placing kisses in random places as he went. Then, he quickly dressed himself. He was flushed but his hair looked the same as ever. The same couldn't be said about you - the mirror showed the picture of a well-fucked woman, hair messy and clothes wrinkled.

"This is vintage, you know?" you reprimanded him playfully as you rearranged your top to actually cover your bra.

"1960s?" Carmy guessed.

"1970s, but close enough," you kissed his cheek and sent him off. "Go! I'll see you later."

He went back for another kiss before running out of the shop and into the restaurant, not before turning the door sign back to open.

While a quickie in the back of the store was understandably thrilling, you both agreed that everyone at the restaurant would figure out something was off if Carmy kept disappearing for fifteen minutes, then coming back smiling. So, you started to schedule some time together. It forced Carmy to take time off the restaurant, which initially made you feel guilty until you bumped into Richie one day.

"Looking for Carmen?" he asked, a cigarette hanging from his mouth.

"Yeah, I'll wait, don't worry." You were supposed to be walking together to his apartment for a quiet night in.

"I have to thank you," Richie said all of a sudden.

"Thank me?"

"You're keeping him sane - Carmy," he took a deep breath. "He was this, you know, fucking control freak, micromanaging nightmare," he cleared his throat. "He's taking time off, leaving on time, because of you."

You played with the strap of your handbag nervously. How do you reply to that?

"Uh, you're welcome, I guess."

"I mean it," he insisted. "He's actually sleeping and shit. He's intense. I know," he waved the cigarette around. "But he's- family, you know? I want him to be happy."

You smiled. "I want that too," you said softly.

"Good," he replied simply and walked away just as Carmy got out, jacket and hat on.

"Was that Richie?"

"Yep," you said, leaning in to kiss his cheek.

"What'd he tell you?" he looked nervous.

"Nothing," you shrugged and then added with a smile: "Only that you are very annoying and that he thanked me for taking you away."

"Fuck off," he chuckled and put an arm around you. "Let's go home."

Carmy was on top of you, the mattress was swaying back and forth with the force of his thrusts, and your hands were grabbing his ass, keeping him close. You weren't kissing, not really - your lips touched his, mouths open, moaning against each other. It was messy and beautiful.

"Holy shit," he groaned, picking up speed.

You arched your back trying to get the right angle, to have his cock hit that spot inside you, but he kept missing. It was a little frustrating but you held on to him; his skin was warm and soft, and the sounds he made were heavenly. It was all for you, it was everything.

"Carmy," you moaned softly.

"Oh, fuck," his climax hit him like a train; he collapsed on top of you, hips still trembling. You shifted to hold him close to your chest, your hands caressing his curls. The back of his neck was wet with sweat.

After a little while, he gathered enough strength to roll off from you, his breaths still labored.

"I love how you sound when you come," you confessed, tracing his jawline with your finger. He hummed, soft smile and closed eyes.

Suddenly, he opened his eyes. "Wait, you didn't-?"

You shook your head, still touching his face.

"It happens. Remember I told you it wasn't always like that?"

In truth, you had been very lucky that this was the first time you two had this particular problem. Either Carmy was a very good student or you were absolutely crazy about him. Maybe both.

"What can I do?" a wrinkle between his eyebrows interrupted the bliss on his face and you tried to iron it out with your fingers.

"I'm a big girl. I can manage," you declared. "You can watch if you want," you said mischievously.

Carmy gulped. "Okay."

You opened your legs wide, feet on the mattress, and you started fingering yourself. It was slow, you turned your head to see Carmy as you moaned, putting a little bit of a show. He got close, his forehead to yours.

"Can I help? Please, let me help," his voice was hoarse with need.

You guided his hand down. He had gotten quite good at reading you since that first time together, getting quicker when you gasped, pressing harder when you moaned.

It startled you when he stopped - you whined a little.

"Sorry," he apologized. "I just want to try something."

You saw him raise the hand that had been touching you up to his face. Without breaking eye contact, he sucked his middle finger dry. You moaned at the sight.

Slowly, he kissed his way down your body: your neck, your shoulder, your nipple, your belly, your hip... He shifted on the bed until he was lying on his stomach, between your legs.

"I'm gonna need you to guide me here," Carmy said; you could feel his exhale on your navel.

"Fuck, Carmy," you writhed on the bed. "Hold me," you gestured at the place on your hips that would keep you still, his long fingers anchored there. "Do what you're comfortable with," you said, flushed to the chest with desire, "I'll tell you where it feels good."

You expected him to maybe kiss around your clit shyly, perhaps the gentle touch of his tongue between your folds... You didn't expect him to lick a long stripe from the bottom of your lips to the top, flicking at your clit. You let out a loud moan. He repeated the movement a few times, speeding up as he went, you buried a hand in his curls.

"Yes, that feels- yes," you mumbled nonsensically. He hummed into you.

Then, he peppered kisses all over, which felt nice and let you catch your breath, but he wasn't satisfied. He reached your clit and started licking at it. You thanked your stars for Carmy's strong hands, because you could not stay still, writhing in pleasure.

"That's so fucking good, Carmy," your voice went higher and your fingers tugged at his curls.

He moved downwards, lapping eagerly at your wetness, his nose hitting your clit as he moved.

"Fucking- oh!" you arched your back and he tightened the grip on your hips, almost bruising and so hot. "Please don't stop," you begged.

He stayed there, keeping his rhythm steady, tilting his head a little, making you moan.

"You make me feel so good, Carmy," you praised, knowing by now that he liked that. He looked up, his eyes dark with lust, and you extended a hand to hold his, tattooed fingers intertwined with yours. "You are so good to me."

He sped up at that, the slow tilt of his head turned into him shaking it, his beautiful nose hitting your clit mercilessly. His mouth kept sucking and sucking, bringing you closer and closer...

"I'm gonna-" you gasped for air. "I'm gonna come."

It was white hot, blinding, and loud. You didn't realize you were screaming until you stopped. Carmy soothed the skin on your hips gently, waiting for you to come back. His blue eyes marveled at the sight of you and he ran a hand over his face to clean up a little bit.

"Carmy," was all you managed to say, out of breath and absolutely fucked out. He climbed up your body and kissed you, smiling against your mouth.

"I love the way you sound too."

[Part 3]

#thank you for all the likes and reblogs on pt 1 there were no plans for a sequel but you've been lovely so...#carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x you #carmy x reader #carmy x you #carmen berzatto fanfiction

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arireynes · 1 year

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Thinking about being an adventurer in a fantasy world. Mapping out all the places I've been, keeping track of all the creatures I've met. But some wonder why I've returned to several spots so many times.

It could be the Werewolf den hidden in the forest. I stumbled upon it by accident the first time, needing protection while being chased. Now they'll gladly help me, getting rid of whoever I need them to, so long as I spend a night with them. They'd tie my up, and everyone would get a turn using me, fucking me till I can't think, can't do anything more than beg for more. After, they'd spoil me, showering me in gifts and food.

Maybe it's the home of the Vampire. He lives alone for the most part, but is always delighted when I come visit. He treats me to a great meal, then invites me to join him in his room after we eat. He promises me gifts if he can bite me, and I let him, gladly. He spreads his legs for me after, gasping as I fuck him, letting him lick the blood off my neck when he's good.

Or maybe it's huge graveyard haunted by the Ghosts that have unfinished business. When I visit, asking for information, they'll tell me anything I wish. But after, they'll take me in a mausoleum, or bend me over a gravestones and solidify enough to fuck me till I'm screaming. Some suspect that the screams are from tortured souls, but I know better.

Maybe it's the island that belongs to the Seamonster who lives deep in the ocean. I hitch a ride on a pirate ship to get there, speaking to the monster, agreeing to trade my body for treasure. They let me choose what I want, and swear I'll have it once they've had their fill. They wrap me up in their thick tentacles, and fuck me in the air, with my face buried in the sand, or half in the water. Once they're satisfied, I bid them farewell and leave with my treasure.

Or it's the collection of Demons I come across in the fiery underworld. They all tower over me, thick horns, and spiked tails, and they always keep their word. I'll ask for something, and they'll say of course, if they can have me for the night. My favorite, she'll take me to bed, and kiss me all over, her lips intoxicating. When I'm needy and begging, she'll push my legs apart and let me grip her horns as she fucks me, making so everyone near can her my cries of pleasure.

Maybe it's one of the Angels that have been sent down to watch over someone. They're so pure and sweet, but there's always one I can coax to follow me to bed. Promising that it's okay, that they're only indulging in simple pleasures. That they don't have to fuck me if they don't want to, they can just watch me. But they never hold on long, and grab hold of me, finishing the job themselves, and they always fuck me so nicely. They tell me it can't happen again, and I agree, but leave knowing it will.

Maybe it's the den of the Dragon, where I go for gold when I need it, and sometimes when I don't. They can take a human form, but keep their sharp teeth, claws, and horns. Rough hands dragging down my body, pinning me against the wall, as they make me beg for the money. They'll fuck me where I can see what I want, press their claws to my throat, tell me that if I make it good for them, they'll give me anything I want.

Every creature would know of me, and I would have made a deal with most. Everywhere I'd go, there would always be someone for me to do.

#monsterfucker #monsterfucker to the max #dragon nsft #vampire nsft #demon nsft #angel nsft #werewolf nsft #nsft #ghost nsft #adventurer #arireynes #gender neutral post #switch #pansexual #trans demon?#18+#kinda long #seamonster nsft #tentacles

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inkblot22 · 2 months

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What's Worse?

I finally finished this. This unpostable thing. It's done and even if it's bad, I do not care. In the end, it ended up being 4k words and I'm okay with this. Header by @/cafekitsune

Who is this fic for? I tried to keep this one very neutral despite the many references to body parts, so anyone who can handle it is free to read! Keep in mind that pronouns such as you and they are used to refer to the reader. The reader is human and does have hair.

TW for coercion, noncon, dubcon, allusions to a physically and emotionally abusive dynamic, captivity, everyone is at least a little bit untrustworthy in this, mentions of the smell of blood, beastman-specific oddities and anatomy, violent and morbid similes. Just in case, I'd like to say that this is DEAD DOVE, DO NOT EAT. A lot of the stuff is more so implied than explicitly stated, but it's still there.

The day he moved up a grade and began his “internship” is the same day he took you with him. Sure, Grim came along, but you’re often so busy, or he’s often so busy, either way. So you haven’t seen your familiar in months, and your life is filled with Leona.

You don’t know why he did this, but the first night you were there, he tapped your uvula with his fingers as he orally serviced you so feverishly that you left teeth indent bruises on his knuckles from biting down so hard as you tried not to be loud. He wore them like jewelry, and you know his brother saw them. Everyone at the table knew what happened, because, according to Leona, no matter how often you shower, the way you smell will always give you away.

That was a little over six months ago. As far as captivity goes, it’s rather cushy. You stay within the confines of the Afterglow Savannah’s palace. Sometimes Leona gets a bit aggressive and you take it, but you’re fed, clothed, and possibly pampered. It could be worse. It could be far worse. You could be in the dungeons.

You actually don’t know if this place has a dungeon, come to think of it. The last time you asked Leona, he asked you if there was an issue with the room you shared with him. When you tried to explain why you asked, he called you a “dumb herbivore” in a very fond tone of voice, then fell asleep. You didn’t try asking again.

It didn’t stop you from wandering. As it turns out, the Afterglow is mostly populated by beastmen… beastpeople? Aren’t all people beasts? Whatever, the point is, you’re basically the only person in the palace with muted senses. You often think back to Rook, wondering how he trained himself to use his senses so well. You tried to practice once, but Leona caught you hiding a ball and chucked the thing out the window, telling you to find something better to do with your “skills.” You sure used one of your senses, at least.

Unfortunately, these “muted” senses, despite them being completely sensible for your human state of being, have led to some issues. For instance, when someone approaches you, you don’t notice until they’re within your field of awareness. Beyond that, according to Leona, Farena, Cheka, and Farena’s wife, you also tend to just reek of blood.

You have no idea why, and you’ve never noticed this before. You get out of the shower, having scrubbed hard enough to rid yourself of any dirt but not enough to create micro-abrasions on your skin, and Leona still complains about it. You play fight with Cheka, gentle enough that neither of you gets harmed and he’s giggly, and he pauses his mirth and wrinkles his little nose before asking if you got hurt. Zuri, Farena’s wife, regularly would stop you whenever she saw you, her eyes wide as she asked you if everything was okay. The palace staff didn’t say anything, but they’d constantly be re-filling your first-aid kit, one that was “gifted” to you and one that the staff and Kifaji (despite him being human like you, or maybe just not obviously a beastman) insisted that you carry at all times.

But out of all of them, Farena was the worst. If you were in Cheka’s nursery, even just seconds after the kid fell asleep, Farena would pop out of nowhere. If you lingered a bit too long in the kitchen or hallways, anywhere too far from Leona’s wing, he’d approach with a smile, his arms spread wide. If you came to the dining hall without Leona’ his glowing brown eyes would find you, the intensity akin to a sudden knife wound. His persistence in being around you was all blanketed by his uncomfortable implications when he spoke to you.

Even so, you happened to somehow get lost. The hallways are sort of color-coded, but you’ve passed this same hallway several times, enough for you to be okay with admitting that you’ve been walking in a circle for the past twenty minutes. And, much like the devil, as soon as you thought that if you were there any longer, a certain lion-man would appear, Farena popped up and scooped you into a hearty hug as greeting, your feet coming off the floor.

“Leona’s partner!” He never calls you by name. It’s always just that. You are Leona’s partner, not your own person, you guess, “I knew I’d find you eventually.”

“Yes. Hello, your highness.” You wheezed as he placed you back on the floor.

“Oh, you’re so prickly, just like my baby brother. You two are a perfect match- he does like a bit of bite.”

You rarely knew how to respond to him, so you often didn’t. You just stared at him, like a total moron, but he continued talking like you aren’t giving him the most anserine of looks- a word he has used to describe you before, basically to your face.

“I’ve heard that you forgot your first aid kit. We don’t need you tripping and scratching yourself on Leona’s dresser again, and not with an inability to heal yourself.” He never gave you time to answer, “Of course, I know you aren’t magic, but those of you without it have made some wonderful inventions to make up for that.”

“Oh. Yeah, I just left for, like, two seconds so I could return something to the kitchen.”

He nodded, thoughtful, still smiling, “Well, did you hit your head? You’ve been walking in a circle, and you didn’t even stop to say hi to me.”

“No. I, uh.” You cast your gaze down the hallway closest to you, then looked back at Farena, “I am a bit lost. I guess someone else is usually with me when I’m wandering around.”

Leona is not the only person in his family with a cunning streak. You are marginally aware of this, and when Farena’s eyes narrowed, you sucked in a breath.

“Hmm. You’re right, Leona’s partner. It is rather strange not to see you by my baby brother’s side.”

It struck you multiple times in the past that the amount of times you bumped into Farena couldn’t possibly be a coincidence. He’s a king, so why was he never ruling or whatever kings did all day? It was incredibly strange, and you made the same subtle discomforted motions like clockwork. He usually pretended not to notice whatsoever.

His grin was always too bright. You did prefer Leona’s smirk, “Very well. It looks like I’ll need to escort you back to Leona’s quarters, won’t I?”

“Uh. I mean, if you’re not busy.”

“You’re such a mousy thing. Come,” He offered you his arm.

You took it, and true to his word, he led you back to Leona’s wing, then straight up to the door. He knocked, and you ducked out of his arm to cautiously open the door. Leona strolled out of the bathroom, hair and skin wet, his eyes not even skimming over you before they flashed to his brother, who strolled in as though he owned the place. Maybe he did. Who owns a palace if not the king?

“Ah, Leona! I found your partner, wandering the halls like a lost lamb.”

As soon as the words process in Leona’s mind, his green eyes are sliding to pin you down. Your limbs feel like lead, and you don’t move or emote, lest he strike. He’s like a snake when he’s like this, which is ironic. Perhaps it’s not ironic, and just comedic. Who knows?

Regardless, Farena keeps talking, “And I missed you at lunch! What a shame. They had your favorite, you know. Meat! And lots of it. Don’t you ever get hungry, being in here all the time?”

If not for everyone talking about the way your skin smells, that comment could have been written off entirely. It didn’t feel great, being indirectly told that you smell like fresh meat, and Leona wasn’t helping much.

“Mmm. No. I don’t like my meat that rare.” Leona grumbles, taking a seat on his bed and waving you over. “Hey, c’mere and braid my hair.”

What was worse? Being told you smell delicious or being told you didn’t smell delicious enough? It was one of those things. You cautiously tied off his braids, capping both of them in beads that Cheka had gifted you. His hair was wet, clinging to his skin as desperately as the water did. You caught yourself watching a drop sliding over Leona’s tattoo and hummed softly.

Farena was still talking. You didn’t hear the beginning, and you didn’t care about the end, so you completely tuned him out so you could finger detangle the rest of Leona’s wet hair. While you were ignoring Farena, you were pointedly all too aware of Leona’s sounds of pleasure. It took you a while to get used to it. You were a primate, and he was a lion. More lion than ape. He snorted and rumbled, huffed and chuffed, his face twisted in a scowl.

“Ah, what a shame. I’ll have to speak to you later, Leona. Perhaps you could talk about those plans with Zuri. I’m sure she’d love to listen.” You tuned back in as Farena turned to the door, opening it before remembering himself and waving at you, “Bye bye, Leona’s partner!”

When he was gone, almost as soon as the door was closed, Leona twisted his torso to grab you around the waist and pull you into one of his kisses. You read somewhere that the reason men kiss so… wetly is so they can mark their partner. It makes more sense if they just didn’t want to kiss with dry lips, but you’re no kissing expert. Leona is not an exception to this, you supposed. He always licked his lips before pressing them against yours, slicked with his saliva and often accompanied by a quiet, barely perceptible growl.

His kisses were dizzying. Possibly because it was difficult to breathe while kissing someone, and possibly because you were usually held in a crushing vice whenever he kissed you. Your poor ribcage had been squeezed many times.

And just as soon as it started, he dropped you unceremoniously and stood up, walking past your sprawled body on his floor, “We’ve got some big dinner to get to. Get dressed.”

You scrambled to your feet, “Big dinner?”

“Mhm. It’s some official’s birthday. I can’t be bothered to remember who.”

That made enough sense. In the time you’d been here, you’d learned pretty quickly that it wasn’t exactly worth it to go out of your way to be remembered positively by everyone, especially not since you were… with Leona. In all the time you’d been here, you’d never been sure about what the nature of your relationship with him was, either. Asking would get you some kind of snarky or irritated answer, and not asking but thinking about it made it hard to focus on anything else, so you didn’t think about it.

“Oh. You see Grim today?” You asked while getting dressed in your own green and black dashiki, like a couple’s outfit in the matching pattern of Leona’s.

Like he always did, he stared for a moment before making a few small adjustments. It was funny, he couldn’t be bothered to care about his own appearance, and yet, when it came to you…

“Yeah, He’s good. Still working on the mage stuff.”

“Mmm. Okay. Thanks.” You mumbled, lifting your arms so Leona could look you over again, “What?”

“You stink like my brother. If we had time, I’d fix that, but…”

“What does he smell like?”

“Shouldn’t you be asking what I smell like?” He snapped, and you flinched. Sometimes his irritation came with physical indications, but heavier than the physical indications was the energy around him, “Forget it. Stay close to me tonight.”

You usually did. You hated parties here, but more than the parties themselves, you hated the strangers who came up to you and just said whatever. Last time, someone approached you and asked how big Leona’s wallet was for you to stick around. You’re learning to like nobility less, not that you particularly liked them before..

You’re tucked against Leona’s back for the entirety of the evening. He’s like a ward. People see him and walk the opposite direction unless they’re drunk or stupid, and those types are in short supply at the beginning of the night. Unfortunately, by the middle of the night, amongst sips of his drinks and nibbles of various finger foods, you felt exhausted and Leona was straight up pissed.

You wondered why for a bit too long. You barely even realized when you ended up back in his room, outside on his balcony. He was stewing, pouting like a toddler. You unstuck yourself from his side and sat in one of the chairs.

“Mmm.” He grumbled. He often did this, putting a noise to his emotion, but no words to explain himself. You’d wised up and figured out early on that it was best not to approach him for this type of thing, “Hey, runt.”

Uh oh. He tended to use that nickname before he did something foul to you. You squirmed in your chair and flinched as he turned around and yanked his shirt over his head. His pants went next. Leona didn’t bother with underwear.

“C’mere. What are you hidin’ in the corner for?” He mumbles, “We’ve got time now.”

Your uh oh gets multiplied. It’s not that you aren’t attracted to Leona, or that you’re not in the mood. It’s not that you’re terrified of him, not that you’re confused by his awkward libido. It’s that you honestly don’t know what he sees in you, sprinkled with a bit of relationship insecurity. You’re here because of him, you and Grim have a home because of him, but what’s going to happen when he gets bored with you?

He looks over his shoulder at you sharply, “What the hell are you doin’? I said c’mere.”

You swallowed and took a few steps forward, stripping as you walked. The night air makes your skin tingle with goosebumps, your nipples hardening and a shiver rattling through you. It’s a very strong possibility that these feelings have beset you based only on the fact that someone could look up from Zuri’s garden and see you and Leona, both naked on his balcony.

When you’re standing in front of him, he just stares, one of his hands ever so gently stroking himself. You think it’s funny, the phrase “playing with yourself,” because that is what it is. His fingers softly paw at his heavy balls, gliding up the base of his shaft to tweak the head of his cock under his foreskin. He doesn’t break his gaze on you to look at himself. The hand that is not busy with himself reaches out to grab your waist, just above the start of your hip, and yank you closer.

He’s not gentle. Not really. You know he has the capacity to be gentle, but he doesn’t really seem to care. In the past, when you’ve pleaded with him to be gentle, he’s told you that he would treat you like glass if he thought you were made of it, but since he’s seen you suffer worse (what is worse?) he doesn’t see the point in bothering. That doesn’t change the fact that his touch often hurts. Now is not an exception, and you make your displeasure clear with a soft noise of discomfort.

“Shhh. You wanna tell me what happened earlier?” Leona mumbles, pressing his face against the skin on your stomach, taking a deep breath and letting out a sigh.

You absolutely hate it when he smells you like this, but that’s not important right now, “Wh-what?”

“With Farena. You looked freaked out.” Leona ever so lightly kisses the pit of your bellybutton, “He do anything to you?”

You’re not a fan of Leona acting like this. While it seems like he cares, you know from past experience that he’s typically, if not always, on the brink of a jealous meltdown. His jealous meltdowns almost always end with you sitting alone in the bathroom, tending to your own wounds as he sleeps like a kid who just threw a tantrum. So you decide to give a simple answer before distracting him, at least for a moment.

You scratch the nape of his neck, since he doesn’t like you touching his ears, “He was just his usual off-putting self. Nothing else.”

Leona grunts and looks up at you, so you take your chance. You lean down, sitting on your knees, and press a mock-reverent kiss to Leona’s thigh. He’s surprisingly hairless, for someone who is more lion than ape. You suppose the same could be said for yourself, as someone who is more ape than lion.

Leona’s unimpressed face slants into a smirk, and his hand that was previously fondling his genitals slides to cup your cheek, fingertips rubbing behind your ear.

Now that it’s right in front of your face, you wish that you hadn’t decided that this was the best option for distraction. You think maybe anything would be better than catching those barbs in the back of your throat. The little softly-curved nubs circling the base of the head of Leona’s cock flare out a bit, resembling one of those Elizabethan ruffs, tattered by the passage of time and reduced to the skeleton. They aren’t sharp, not truly, but they’re uncomfortable, especially when you forget that the more worked up Leona gets, the further they poke out and the harsher they feel. It’s similar to someone’s very carefully blunted fingernail and fingertip rubbing against your cheeks.

You try to suck up your carefully hidden disgust and press a soft kiss to the very tip of Leona’s dick, wetting your lips with his salty pre. Surprisingly, he doesn’t taste bad. You would think that his skin, his cum, would taste bitter and harsh, but it’s not the worst thing you’ve ever tasted. Perhaps that’s a silver lining in this wicked situation.

Regardless, a quiet grumble from him makes you snap back into the reality of where you are, and you figure you may as well get to work. You slide your lips down to his base, wincing as the spongy head of his member punches the back of your throat and his hand slides back to grip your nape.

“You trying to bore me to death, runt? You know I hate this teasing shit.”

That’s right. He absolutely loathes it. You bob your head a little more expeditiously, trying to ignore the slick mixture of drool and pre that is escaping from the corners of your lips and the ever-increasing strength of Leona’s thrusts against your face.

Despite your senses being the most dull in the palace, you can sort of hear the festivities downstairs, and Leona chuckles, standing with your head still cradled in his hand so he can actually start thrusting. It always begins with you trying to set a gentle pace and it always quickly dissolves into chaos. He’s lazy, but if he’s anything more than lazy, it’s a shameless pleasure chaser. You would think that you would have learned by now.

“You can’t hear them. They’re not at all concerned with me, they’re wondering where you went off to. But everyone knows that you belong to me, so they should know that you’re with me.” Leona mumbles.

You gag, his dickhead wetly popping against the back of your throat as the fluids in your mouth froth with the speed of his motions, gooey trails roping down to cling to your cheeks and collarbones, connecting to Leona’s shifting hips. At least he doesn’t stink today.

A bug lands on your shoulder and flits away as you choke on Leona as he shoves his cock down your throat. Maybe you should feel a bit more grateful that this is happening partially outside, and that way you can have constant reminders that you’re still alive and not in some form of purgatory, serving time for your very minor moments of humanity when you were alive.

Leona snarls, “You’re just so cute, with those lips wrapped around me. I wonder if my brother would keep flirting with you if he knew that you were like this in private.”

The implications of that statement are absolutely lost on you. You’re aware that Leona knows how you feel about your current life to a degree, but he doesn’t give a damn about your emotions. Whatever he’s talking about is absolutely just him babbling out some sex-addled nonsense. As the barbs scrape against your uvula, you gag and try to push his hips away so you can catch your breath for a second.

He doesn’t let up. Sweat is sliding over his skin, beading into crystal pearls and sliding down to flavor the skin in your mouth with their salt. If you don’t puke from his roughness, you’re going to puke from ingesting so much sodium. His smirk grows and his fingers massage the base of your head as if he isn’t pounding into your throat.

“Aw… too much? Maybe if you were a bit more active, I’d be done a bit sooner.” He coos.

You don’t fully hate Leona. He has given you somewhere to stay, food to eat, clothes to wear, for both you and Grim, but whenever he gets like this, taunting you even though he’s using you like a cheap sleeve, you feel an indescribable, hopeless anger. Regardless, you bring one of your hands up to the copious amounts of drool and pre and sweat that are covering your skin, collecting the goop on your fingers. You cup his ass with your non-gooey hand and spread that cheek, plunging a finger into his asshole and aimlessly crooking your finger.

His hips spasm, his hand fists into your hair and he lets out a low grumble, “Rrr.”

You slowly ease your other gooey finger into his ass and hope that he will cum soon so you can catch your breath. You need a shower, and he’s probably going to just go to bed after this. You’re more tired than he is, and you’re actually beginning to think that you both might be a bit tipsy. You need this to end, and you need it to end soon.

Your prayers are answered. You feel his cock bob in the back of your throat, the glans tapping that soft spot that makes you feel it in the back of your nose, and he yanks your head back, your lips releasing him with a somewhat loud pop.

His cum is hotter than it has any right being. You suppose since he runs hot, it’s not that shocking, but you’re also aware that the whole reason that the balls are not an internal thing is because the human body is way too hot for sperm to live for long periods of time inside of the body. This information is irrelevant, however, because Leona has just made the mess on your skin that much worse. You sigh as he lets go of you, flopping back into his chair and gesturing to his cock again.

“Can you clean me up before you go running off?”

You’d love to tell him no, to ask him to shove it, but you grunt your acquiescence and tongue-clean his messy skin, as if you aren’t covered in more slime than he is. Once done, you stand up and gather your clothes, placing them in the laundry bin in the bathroom and getting in the shower.

You scrub a little harder than usual, but not hard enough to break skin, not even enough to create micro-abrasions. Once out, you throw on one of Leona’s gaudy yellow tees and take a seat on the bed. He’s already curled up under the covers, but the soft tapping of his tail lets you know that he isn’t sleeping. You slide under the covers yourself and Leona rolls over, pulling your back into his chest.

“Hey.” He mumbles into your hair, “You stink like a fresh kill.”

What’s worse? Smelling like blood in a den of predators or being in the den of predators to begin with?

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findafight · 1 year

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Kinda want to write a one-sided ronance post S4 au (within a fix it obvs) where the older teens start actually hanging out and Stobin (eventually + Vickie)confuse literally everyone. They greet each other with cheek kisses, call each other babe (or "Stevie Baby". Listen. Robin calls him bud or buddy or bub or bubba or babe and it's like why so many B's?? Argyle is vibing with it though and joins the bud train) and one time at two in the morning had a coordinated ramble about the names of the cats they will eventually get. (Sassafras, moonshine, and Garborator)

Nancy and Steve haven't really talked about anything, other than Steve saying "hey. I'm sorry if whatever I said weirded you out. I was definitely a bit delirious and Robin and Eddie AND Dustin were all making comments about winning you back or whatever which is stupid, you made it clear where you stood with me. Which wasn't with me. That's fine. and like. Okay yeah when we were together I'd daydream about you being beside me in the motorhome but thats-- it was a daydream. I was sort of thinking I was gonna die and. I wanted to share a little dream that made me happy. And then got everything confused in my head and made it weird and I'm sorry. what I'm trying to say is I'm sorry for being weird and making things uncomfortable. I'm over you. I loved you then, and you were my first real love, and maybe if things were different I could love you like that again but. But neither of us want that or the same things out of life. And we'd crash and burn again. Plus you and Jonathan are together which is a non-starter. Cannot believe I forgot that when it was happening. Jesus. So. Yeah. Sorry for being not a great friend and hitting on you in the Upside Down." And Nancy had nodded and told him not to worry about it. He had been sort of bleeding out and planning on going back into the upside down. They could both be normal about it.

Sometimes Nancy and Robin try to have "girl time" at Nancy's suggestion because they're the only girls in the older group (sometimes. But Robin is not going to let that slip out) but it's awkward without a buffer. Robin is too nervous and rambles and Nancy is too annoyed by it. But they do get on well in group settings, and Steve and Argyle are actually the keenest to smooth over any awkwardness.

Robin laughs more with the group, and grins at Steve and smirks at Eddie and has a sharp tongue Nancy can admire. She's more comfortable with Steve around, insisting he sit beside her or on the ground in front of her so she can play with his hair. (And Nancy is shocked the first time she sees it, because Steve was notoriously protective of his "best feature", but she'd asked and he'd hummed quietly as she takes her fingers through his hair and put tiny, lopsided braids in it.) It's nice to see Robin less jumpy, and wonders what it would take to see more of the side of her Nancy only sees when Steve's around. She just wants to get closer to Robin. Wants a friend.

And somehow, beyond Nancy's notice, Steve and Robin's friend Vickie slowly joins the group. She wasn't involved at all in the spring, but has been hanging around Family Video and a movie night or two often enough that when she settles more permanently in the group it isn't a very big surprise. Eddie and Argyle welcome her in with open arms, Jonathan is only his normal amount of weary of new people, and obviously Robin and Steve are excited for their friends to be friends.

But it just doesn't sit right with Nancy. She can't pinpoint why, it just doesn't. When she sees Robin and Vickie giggling together, or having some back and forth banter that seems to feed into both of them smiling, or Steve throwing his arm over her shoulder, or Vickie leaning into Robin's space as they talk. She always sits beside Robin, Steve on the other, with Eddie beside him. It's usually a tight fit for whatever couch they're on, but the four seem happy as clams to not have any personal space. Once Argyle decided to lay across all their laps, and they just...let him. Finangled themselves so everyone was mostly comfortable.

Nancy figures she is uncomfortable with it because she hasn't ever had a close friend since Barb, and was possibly hoping she could be close to Robin along those lines. So seeing her so close with the others and mildly uncomfortable around her hurt, and seeing her and Steve incorporate someone unversed in the Upside Down into their little trauma club also hurt. Because what did Vickie have that Nancy didn't? That made Steve and Robin and now Eddie stick to her like glue? That made them want her there when she didn't know anything about what they'd been through and could probably never understand?

What made Vickie Summers so special that she's taken what should have been Nancy's place beside her friends? Because that's what really bothered her. It wasn't that Vickie didn't know, it's that Nancy felt she took her place. That Nancy wanted to be where Vickie was, and she didn't know how to ask for it. Asking, trying to talk about how Steve and Robin had bonded so well after Starcourt while she ignored them and then how they bonded with and absorbed Eddie halfway into their bizarre dynamic after vecna, would feel too much like begging or admitting that she isn't quite sure how to make friends.

Nancy is jealous. Jealous that she isn't friends like Vickie and Eddie and Steve and Robin are. That she isn't the one making Robin smile and giggle so cutely. So. She tries harder. Tries to be the friend that Robin and Eddie and even Steve deserve. She tries not to be annoyed by Robin rambling (it really isn't that bad, just. Not relevant. She likes heading Robin's voice, but thinks she could really work on having a filter.), or the way Steve always asks clarifying questions when he should really have known better, or Eddie talking half in different character voices. She thinks it's getting better, her relationship with them. But, still, Vickie is always there, glued to Robin's side almost as much as Steve is, and that always annoys Nancy. Niggles at her brain, that she doesn't deserve to be there because she didn't know what Robin had lived through and fought. Nancy did.

Eventually, Nancy figures out that she wants more from Robin. Doesn't want to be a friend she smiles at occasionally, wants to be the reason she smiles all the time. And that's terrifying. Because Nancy had never considered liking girls, never thought liking girls was a thing she could do. It was something other women did, not Nancy. She liked boys and always had, but. But maybe she always liked girls...too. maybe it wasn't something she that was one or the other. Being different in a town like Hawkins puts a target on your back, being queer in a town like Hawkins even moreso.

She's leaving Hawkins in the fall. But she thinks she wants someone to come home to. She wants Robin to come home to. Robin and Steve seem to be okay with it, from what she can glean of some veiled comments they've made that she's only caught now she's looking for them. They've made some remarks around the kids that make it seem like they'd be safe to come to, no matter what. And sometimes, some of the comments Robin makes about actresses seem a little...well. admiring.

They probably, hopefully, wouldn't hate her for this. And now Nancy and Robin have a friendship, she thinks she can. It's early July, and Nancy is going to ask Robin out.

She gets her alone, bites her lip, and asks Robin in no uncertain terms to go out on a date with her. Robin stares, mouth agape.

"oh," she says.

Nancy smiles, a little. "Yeah. So. What do you say?"

Robin blinks, and takes a shuddering breath. "Oh my god. I. Nancy I'm really flattered but I'm no-i dont- uhg. I'm dating someone." she groans, rubbing her hands over her face.

And oh. Nancy read the situation wrong "oh. Steve. It's fine! You don't like girls, thats--thats totally fine! Id just, um. That is,-"

Robin waves her hands. "No, no! I'm not dating Steve! You clocked me correctly. Definitely gay! Don't worry about that! Hah."

Something in Nancy twists. "Oh?"

"yeah. Yep. Not only am I a lesbian in a small town, I'm a lesbian in a small town that somehow also has a girlfriend." Robin says the word dreamily. Like she still can't believe it. Nancy's brain fills with static. She was too late. Too caught up with how she missed so many chances in the past, that she missed her chance now.

But Robin keeps talking. "And, like. Even if I didn't, I don't think it would have worked between us anyways. Too different, y'know?"

"what?"

Robin gestures with her hands between them. "Well, like. I like being your friend. But, I mean, I wouldn't date you?"

"why not?"

Blinking, Robin tilts her head. "Because of Steve?"

Something bubbles hot in Nancy. "What the fuck does Steve have to do with wether or not we would date?"

"Nancy. Steve's my best friend." As though that explains anything.

"yes? And?"

Robin looks uncomfortable, shifting sideways. "listen, Nancy. You're a good friend. And I've just rejected you. Maybe we should just. Ah. Leave this? I'm really sorry. I'll give you some space, just find me when you're ready?"

"no. What do you mean that we couldn't date because Steve is your best friend? Why would that have any effect on how you date?"

"it doesn't! Not really! Just. Nancy, you broke his heart. His soft, squishy heart! You kinda sorta cheated on him-details very unclear-and then just. Moved on. Pretended like nothing happened. I couldn't do that to Steve. Dating a friend's ex is a bad move. Dating an ex that broke a friend's heart is just cruel." She sighs. Looks sad. As though she isn't the one rejecting Nancy and tearing her apart for how a relationship ended almost two years ago. What did that matter, now? "You're my friend, Nancy. I like you! But even if Steve has moved on, forgiven and forgotten, and if things were a bit different given his full support for us dating if that's what I wanted, I think I'll always remember how he-- how much it hurt him."

"oh"

"I'm. Nancy I'm really sorry. I know how scary it is to put yourself out there, especially like this. It's not fair. I'm just sorry. But. It was true. Steve's the most important person to me. I couldn't ever hurt him. Not like that. Not even if he said he was fine with it."

Nancy stands and walks away. She doesn't cry until she locks her bedroom door.

#robin buckley #nancy wheeler #stranger things #ronance #one sided crush #spicy six #steve harrington #i just think a confrontation between robin and nancy would be really interesting #and robins feelings about things between nancy and Steve and how that would be something of a non starter for a romantic relationship #even if steve was like super cool with it i dont think robin 'held a grudge agaisnt steve for a year bc her crush had a crush on him'#would axtually let it go #and also nancy wanting friends! give her friends. i have so many emotions about nancy not really having friends #since barb died. :( i want her to have friends that she isnt dating ir wants to date!!!#finda writes stuff #finda's rambles #implied ships are #steddie #robin x vickie #robickie

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pretty-toru · 1 year

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Recently I've been thinking about how Gojo would introduce his non-sorcerer s/o who's completely unaware of cursed spirits and jujutsu sorcery about that part of his life. And he'd maybe start by explaining his blindfold or black-out sunglasses.

I'd like to think that he still sometimes forgets about the small things and shows up at your doorstep in his teacher's uniform paired with his blindfold after a tiresome day of work. You've never really seen him outside of his sunglasses and casual attire and Gojo has kept the details of his profession hidden from you for good reason. Now he's less careful about his appearance since he feels ready to reveal more about himself that's "otherworldly".

Besides, Gojo thinks that it's easier to break the news about how he's part of the Big Three Clans, inherited this special pair of Six Eyes, and he's the Strongest Sorcerer who exorcises curses for a living AFTER you've fallen so hopelessly in love with him that you'll choose to stay with him no matter. (You'd probably flat-out reject him if you knew from the beginning).

So when you answer the door doing a once over of a strange and tall man dressed in dark clothing with his eyes covered sporting a wide grin upon seeing you, you're almost wary as you keep the door open enough just to see out.

"...Can I help you?"

"I've had a long day, sweetheart. Aren't you going to let me in?"

"???" "Sorry? But who are you?"

"Ah, right right. Gimme one second." Gojo then removes the cloth obscuring his eyes and his soft white hair cascades over his forehead as he switches to his sunglasses and you suddenly realize that the stranger is indeed your boyfriend. "You know, I'm actually hurt you didn't recognize me because I'd know you anywhere, angel."

You're dumbfounded as you lower your guard and Gojo enters your apartment and places a kiss on your pretty lips, commenting about how something smells amazing and asks what's cooking for dinner while he unzips his outerwear and tosses it on your couch. But you're still dazed about what just happened and it felt too weird to simply gloss over the fact. "Hang on, aren't we going to talk about what just happened?"

"Hm? Talk about what?" Gojo feigns perfect innocence, making his sweet way to your cabinets and drawers to retrieve two plates and utensils after observing the table hadn't been set yet.

"Your blindfold? And what you're wearing?" Your hand is placed firmly on your hip with a skewed expression, gesturing the wooden spoon in your grip that was used to stir the pot of beef stew at him.

"It's my work uniform. The blindfold is part of it."

"I'm confused, I thought you were a teacher? How are you able to see in that?"

"I'll tell you all about it once I have some of your delicious food in me, okay hun?" Gojo's quick in his stride to set the dishes in their rightful places before he's gently cooing your suspicions away and leading you back into the kitchen with his hand on the small of your back. "C'mon I'll help you finish dinner then I'll answer your questions. I promise you."

You deflate with a sigh. "...Okay."

After enjoying dinner, Gojo helps you clear the table and with all the promises he makes to you he earnestly keeps. He's quite sure you'll come up with more questions than you already have as he's slowly but surely eases you into his world as a shaman — his way of telling you that he’s serious about you. Gojo loves and trusts you enough to reveal all the parts of himself to you in due time, and he can only hope that you'll wholeheartedly accept him in his entirety.

#you really decided to give the goofy sweets loving guy a chance and turns out he’s a pretty big deal in a secret society #gojo wearing his special glasses indoors is another thing early in the relationship #he'd say something like his eyes are sensitive to the light and you just nodded yet still skeptic #but once you learn all these new things about him everything slowly starts to make sense #gojo satoru #gojo x reader

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becauseicantthinkwritings · 1 year

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Teeth

Part 13

Masterlist

Warnings: Stalker vibes, confrontations, anxiety.

Photo by shaazjung on Instagram

"There's something you haven't explained to me." Billy says suddenly.

You pause, from sending your messages, looking across at him from your spot in the passenger seat.

You raise your eyebrows expectantly.

"Why do you think hackers- or people trying to breach security in general- would underestimate the level of sophistication of the system?"

You take a deep breath, lean back.

"Because," You say with a tired sigh, "When they search up the company structure, they'll see me as a consultant."

"You?"

"Female." You clarify.

"You really think that people will make that assumption?"

"Why not? It's been happening for most of my life anyway, I'm just weaponising it now."

He's silent for a long moment.

"I'm sorry that you have to go through that."

"It's fine," You sing, "It means I get to design a system that looks dumb but ruins some fucker's life."

He smiles fondly, glancing over at you.

"Come over to my place next week, I'll do the cooking this time."

You hum, prolonging your response so that it seems like you take some time to decide.

In reality, saying no was never an option.

"Sure, I'd like that."

You don't notice the way his shoulders drop subtly, relaxing, just moments after.

It's not as difficult to leave your place alone as it was before.

Sure, for those first few weeks after the robbery, you'd only gone to and from work with Billy and occasionally, one of your friends would accompany you to the supermarket.

Today, when Amy calls to find out of you're still on for later, you pause, and tell her that maybe you're going to try to go by yourself today.

She's quiet for a moment, and you can almost hear her thinking.

"Okay, but please call if you feel even a little bit unsure?" You can hear the worry in her voice, you know that she's thinking about the first time she accompanied you, and you hid in the bathroom for ten minutes cause you thought you were being followed.

"I will, Amy, thank you."

Truthfully, you could never shake the feeling that you were being watched.

It went with you everywhere, like a shadow that just kept coming back no matter how much light you shined on it.

You tried to take deep breaths, and reassure yourself that everything was okay. It was the best you could do.

Billy was the only person that made you feel completely safe, his knowledge and background meant that you could very much trust whenever he said you weren't being followed.

But now? Alone like this, you try not to look over your shoulder too many times when examining apples, or not to freeze up when someone got too close to you.

Overall, at the cashier, you find yourself a little glad that you're able to at least get this far despite anything that may happen later.

It's a step in the right direction for your self-empowerment, a reminder that time can sometimes help repair the damage caused by traumatic events.

You're piling your groceries into the trunk of your car when you hear someone say your name.

Freezing in fear is a normal response for you, but once again, you do your best to breathe through it, and turn.

"Andrew? Hello," you greet.

Your former boss gives you a sharp smile and approaches. You take your time, assessing him as a possible threat.

He looks a bit sallow, the underneath of his eyes are a little grey, possibly with lack of sleep, a shadow of a beard sprouting on the base of his face.

He looks a bit unkempt, his hands in his pockets and you make sure to casually put your trolley between him and you for safety.

"You look like you're doing great." He says, taking in your piles of items, and then carefully looking at you.

You watch his eyes trail down your body and your head lights up with warning signs.

You smile politely, nodding your head.

"I'm fine, I hope you are too." You offer lightly, trying to finish packing your car as quickly as possible.

"Well, when you left, the everyone was counting on Anvil to accept our offer. When he declined, the board decided I wasn't good enough at my job."

You swallow. Is that was this was? A guilt trip?

"I'm sorry to hear that." You state calmly.

He takes a shaky step forward, and you stand your ground looking right at him. You think if he tried something, the shopping cart would come in handy in keeping him away from you.

"It's odd though, I keep playing my last meeting with Russo over and over in my head, and do you know what stood out to me?"

You don't respond.

"What stood out," he continues, "Is that Russo only wanted you."

So this was an accusation.

"Now why would he want someone like you, if you weren't fucking him?"

You press your teeth together angrily.

"Fuck. You." You grit out.

He blinks, having never seen you this angry before. You continue before he has the chance to speak.

"You think I wanted to leave? I left because you kept treating me like shit. Over and over again, and now you think you can come here and accuse me of this? No wonder you got fired when I left, because you couldn't keep taking credit for my work."

"You little bitch." He says taking another step forward until his body is right against the shopping cart. He grips the metal side of it, leaning forward even more in an attempt to get into your space.

"I vouched for you so many times. I'm the reason you got this job in the first place. You were nobody, nothing, until I decided to give you a chance. I've been watching you for a week now, trying to get you alone to talk to you, and you've been hooked to William Russo like dirt under his boot, and you want to tell me you aren't fucking him?"

You feel the fear of realization sink under your skin. Your stomach turns, making you nauseated.

"You've been following me?" You ask, in a much smaller voice than you want to.

He frowns, pushes away from the trolley and turns his back to you for a moment.

"Don't flatter yourself, I only wanted to talk."

He grits out.

You don't say anything, just watching his figure, trying to figure out how to get away from him.

You close your trunk, he watches you return your cart to the little docking station nearby.

"I'm sorry for the way things turned out." You say to him finally, trying to ease the tension.

He studies you for a long moment.

"You can fix this. Bring Russo back to us, they'll take you back, you can vouch for me like I once vouched for you."

"I'm not going to do that."

He grunts angrily, taking steps to approach you.

You back away, but he just keeps coming, he's almost in your personal space when suddenly a hand claps down on his shoulder.

The parking lot security guard looks very stern as he pulls Andrew a safe distance away from you.

"Is this man bothering you?" The security inquires in your direction.

You gulp, thinking that if you said 'yes,' you'd be forced to stand around here for longer.

"A bit, but I just want to leave." You finally say.

The guard nods, standing as a wall between Andrew and you, and you take the out, sliding into your car as fast as you can and reversing out of your park.

You don't look back.

'I don't suppose you could spare a moment to come over?' You send in his direction.

You swallow, turning your phone over in your hands, deep in thought.

You phone vibrates, you glance down.

'Be there in 5.'

"It's open." You say, when you hear a knock on the door.

He comes through slowly, no harsh sounds ever present when he's around.

"I know this building is safe, but you really should check before you let people in. What if that wasn't me?"

You don't answer, just staring at him as he locks the door behind him.

You sigh, your feet tucked under you as you lounge on your couch, your third glass of wine cupped securely in your hands.

You look up when he says your name.

You study him the same way he studies you. His hair is wet from a recent shower, but he's dressed comfortably this time, in black sweatpants and a soft green hoodie. He looks so comfortable, and the words 'boyfriend material' spring to mind, your mouth twitches, deep in thought, thinking about what he would say if you said that to him.

"Are you alright?" He asks after studying you.

You nod, taking another long sip of wine. He looks behind you, probably noting the abundance of unpacked groceries on your kitchen counter. You'd brought most of them up, only really worrying about the frozen and refrigerated items before you'd stopped, in favour of the sweet white you were now holding.

"Sometimes, I really hate the field I chose."

Billy looks at you for a moment, trying to read into you, but you know he doesn't have all the information.

"Why?" He asks, stepping forward and dropping into the spot beside you easily.

You rest your cheek on the back of the couch, looking up at him.

"It would be easier. I could have picked the culinary arts instead of this and no one would question if I was sleeping with my boss everytime I did something good."

"Someone accused you of that?" Billy asks evenly, doesn't take his eyes off of you.

You sigh, nodding, swirling your wine around in your little cup- not using a piece of glassware out of fear that you may break it.

"Andrew," You say softly to Billy, despair heavy in the farthes reaches of your mind.

"He followed me, confronted me, accused me, and then tried to bargain with me to come back."

You sigh, sniffling for a brief moment, fighting the pressure behind your eyes as tears pool.

You blink quickly to stop them from falling.

"He told me that I would be nothing without him. And all the way home I kept thinking that if I'd just picked something else, anything else, I might be a little bit happier."

A teardrop splashes into your wine, you wipe at it quickly.

He lets out a slow breath and you glance up at him in surprise, half realising that he's still here, watching you.

His dark eyes are tender, studying you in great detail before lifting a hand and crooking two fingers at you.

"Come here." Is all he says.

You breathe out a rush of air, knocking back the last two moutfuls of wine in your cup before setting the item on the little table in front of you.

You move slowly, giving him a chance to change his mind, leaning into him, and slowly resting your head into the crook of his neck.

His arms wrap around you, pulling you even closer until you're half seated in his lap.

There's just a rightness to being in his arms that finally breaks the dam inside of you. You let out a little sob, and his arms tighten around you as your body begins to shake as you cry.

"Sorry," you hiccup, "I- I'm sorry."

He shushes you softly, his cheek resting on the top of your head.

You feel small in his arms, a fragile thing made to be picked up and cared for and he very sensation makes you cry harder because it feels good, and you find yourself unable to gather the strength to think about pulling away from him. His scent is around you, his body pressed so tightly to yours that there's no gap between you.

There's a small abstract moment in your head, that you're able to identify a wholeness that wasn't there before.

You shiver, looking up at him with tear-stained cheeks, noting the feeling that you'd never realised you were missing something until he took you into his arms.

His thumbs wipe at your fresh tears, pushing them back, forcing them away.

You press your head back against his chest, shudders out a sigh as his arms go right back around you.

"There's so much I want to say," Billy starts, "I don't even know where too begin."

You sniffle.

"You don't have to." You murmur, hoping that he doesn't feel obligated to comfort you with his words.

You feel your head begin to swim as your third glass of wine begins to catch up to you.

"When I started Anvil, I had nothing." He says, his voice smooth and deep in your ear.

"There was me, and an idea, and I made a lot of questionable deals in order to get my company started."

You hear him swallow.

"There was one man, he believed that because he gave me a chance when no one else would, that he owned me. He treated me like his own personal dog, and for a couple of years, all I did was whatever he asked."

You listen intently, melting into him as he begins to rub circles into your lower back.

"It took me a while- longer than I'd care to admit- to understand that just because he helped me, it didn't mean I owed him everything. Sure, his generosity was appreciated, but it was my work that took Anvil off the ground, and seeing how far it's come, how far it has yet to go, and how much good it does makes it worthwhile for me."

He takes a moment to catch his breath.

"What I'm saying is, that you don't owe anyone a damn thing. Your successes are your own, because you did them." He makes a little sound of amusement at the back of his throat before continuing, "You're the secret ingredient."

You sniffle, smiling at his words.

"Andrew thinks he gave you these opportunities out of the goodness of his heart, but that's bullshit. You showed him who you were, and he picked you because he thought you were good at your job."

"And you?" You ask, desperate to hear it, "Why did you pick me?"

He makes a tiny huff of amusement.

"Because I love my company," You feel his face press into your hair, "And I wanted to give it the best chance, which is you."

You sigh, pressing yourself as close to him as possible, breathing in that amazing spiced scent, before relaxing fully, turning to a boneless mass in his arms.

"Thank you." You finally say to him.

He makes a deep sound in the back of his throat, you feel the vibration against your cheek.

He doesn't let go, and you have to motivation to pull away.

You're so at ease that you can't help closing your eyes, falling asleep in his arms without a second thought.

He holds you for a long while, a stupid smile on his face as he breathes in your strawberry scent.

When he's sure he won't wake you, he slips a hand under your knees, and stands with you in his arms.

You make a little sound, your arms wrapping tighter around his neck.

Billy takes his time, walking you to your bedroom, pulling the covers back and placing you down.

You don't let go of him, clinging like a koala, his eyes widen as you almost pull all of his body weight on top of yourself, he catches his weight on his arms before he crushes you.

He tries to pull away but you're not having it, maneuvering him in your sleep, until he's on his back, and your body is cradled against his, your head on his chest.

He lets out a breath of amusement, raising the hand that isn't pinned under you to stroke you hair.

He hears you hum in bliss and he smiles.

He wants to worship you so badly, kiss every inch of your skin, and then twice over for good measure.

He can't help it, pressing his thumb over the pout of your lips, his heart flipping when you draw even closer to him.

How can he pull himself away from you now? What kind of strength would that take?

Billy thinks about what would happen if he stayed right here beside you, if you wake up in the morning and find him here, you'd probably be so at ease.

He wanted that, he would probably kiss you at some point.

He can feel his heart racing as he thinks about it, kissing you breathless, giving you rounds of uninhibited pleasure, hearing you beg for him as if he would ever deny you.

But what about after?

He swallows, worried about after.

He wouldn't be able to keep himself away from you. Once, would never be enough.

He'd have to have you, over and over and over, never wanting to hide your relationship.

But that would make rumors true, it would invalidate your successes because you were sleeping with your boss.

The breath that escapes him is so pained that it takes him a second to take another.

He'd never forgive himself if he ruined your reputation that way.

He sighs, tracing the back of his hand over your cheeks and listening to the way you sigh.

He knew what you wanted, your body made it crystal clear everytime he was around you, calling out for him, and if he were a weaker man, he'd oblige.

His relationship with control was strained on a good day. The military had helped him focus his anger, train his rage and his bloodlust, but nothing had trained him to control his desire.

As Billy looked at you, sleeping in his arms, he felt his control grinding down with each breath you took.

It was only a matter of time.

Alone.

Again.

You sit up, taking a sad breath.

How did he always manage to slip away from you? Why?

What would it take to wake up next to him?

A question that goes unanswered.

In your kitchen, you're stunned to find that all your groceries have been packed away, only a few items in unfamiliar places. A warm feeling in your chest, you almost want to text him and thank him, except that you remember the last time you did that he left you on read. You decide to tell him in person when he's taking you to work.

You get dressed for work like usual, but when you're halfway ready, you pause, thinking about Dani's words from a few days ago.

In an effort to torment him, you shed your fancy work shirt and grab one of the work appropriate dresses in your closet.

It's sky blue, with half sleeves and matching belt. You're not sure if it will even catch his eye, but you decide to try anyway.

Except that when you step out of your aparment building, it's not Billy waiting for you.

You've seen Sergei around before, but you blink in surprise when he nods his head at you, and pulls open the back door of the car he's standing in front of.

Your heart plummets.

He'd sent someone else to pick you up.

You smile at Sergei, asking him for a moment before you pull your phone from your pocket and dial his number.

"Russo." Is what he says when he answers.

"Hey," You greet lightly, trying to be quick, "Did you send someone else to take me to work?"

He's silent for a moment.

"Yes, I-"

"Okay thank you," you interrupt, not interested in hearing what he had to say, "Just checking to make sure. Bye."

You end the call, staring at your phone for a second before shaking your head.

You turn to Sergei, giving him a smile and a word of thanks as you slide into the back seat of the car.

"Do you have any music preferences?" He asks kindly, and you wonder briefly if that was even in the scope of his job.

"Anything is good with me." You respond, crossing your arms and looking out the window angrily as he begins to drive.

You have many hindsight realisations on your way to work, that you really could have driven yourself. The only reason you were okay with Billy taking you is because he was going in the same direction anyway.

This just seemed like way too much time and effort to get you to work.

You try to make excuses for Billy, like maybe something urgent happened at work, or something personal, you didn't really know every aspect of his life now did you?

But you knew in the back of your head, that this was something he always does. He gets close, gives you blissful peace, and then pulls away, ignores you for a few days.

Frankly, you've hit your boiling point, and by the time you get to work, you're fuming.

You drop your things on your desk, and you give your coworker a big smile when she compliments your dress.

You'd worn it for him. Pathetic.

You make it up to his office, smiling at Katerina, his secretary, asking her if he's available and waiting for a yes before you knock on his door and enter when he says.

He doesn't even look up at you.

Taking notes at his desk, and there's just so much anger inside of you that you're not really thinking straight.

"Is there something you need?" He asks flatly, still not sparing you a single glance.

So he knows it's me, you think, and yet somehow he refuses to look up.

It cuts like betrayal.

"I can drive myself to work from now on, thank you."

He pauses, finally, looking up at you.

You watch him swallow.

"I insist, really, it's safer this way." He says.

"But inefficient," you counter, "To have Sergei go out of his way no doubt, when I have a perfectly good car."

He looks like he wants to argue, but can't form the right words.

He stands, eyebrows drawn, coming to stand in front of you.

It's probably a bad idea on his part, given your warped headspace, your eyes drop to his lips for a brief moment, before going back up to his dark eyes when he speaks.

"Very well, if you insist on driving, it's your choice."

You nod sharply, your throat closing up in despair. Was this the end of your friendship?

"Good." You say, no emotion in your tone, "One more thing."

"Yes?" He asks.

You swallow, grabbing the knot of his tie and pulling him down a little, while simultaneously rising onto your toes.

You don't give it a second thought, pressing your mouth to his.

It's like fireworks going off in your head, sparks spilling over and scattering into the farthest reaches of your mind.

You let out a little sigh of bliss into his mouth before releasing your grip on his tie.

You pull back from his mouth, taking a deep breath to apologise when suddenly his hands are on your hips. You feel the way his fingers twitch, as if he's fighting something bigger than you.

You gasp as he pulls you closer, body pressed tightly to his and you look up into his eyes.

He angles his head down, and his mouth is on yours once more.

He returns the kiss this time, with eager hums and steady pressure. It's greater than any other kiss you've ever experienced.

Your chest feels warm, your stomach flips, sizzling sparks work their way over your skin.

Your hands grip his shoulders, snaking their way up behind his neck.

He groans, hot breath into your parted mouth and you accept the sound greedily, more desperate for him than ever before.

He turns you, presses you up against his desk, braces his arms on either side of you for a moment before his hand cups the back of your neck securely.

It's all consuming, the way his mouth moves this way and that, the friction of his beard on your chin the taste of his mouth threatening to undo you.

His blunted fingers pressing tight into your skin, his hands wander your body, reaching for your knee, raising it to wrap around his hip. Your clothed center just barely brushes a hint of stiffness at the front of his pants and all you're thinking in various levels of enthusiasm is 'yes.'

The loud pitch of his ringing phone startles you. You shove him away quickly in surprise, gasping as you slide from your spot between him and his desk.

Your body is hot, cunt throbbing, skin hypersensitive and aching for his hands.

You suck in a big breath, smoothing your hair over in a panicked frenzy and running your hands down your dress.

Oh God.

Had you really just did that? Kissed him when you'd come in here to tell him off?

You try to take another measured breath but Billy seems to have taken all the air in the room with just one touch of his lips.

"Russo." Billy says, leaning over the desk, putting his phone on loudspeaker.

"Apologies for interrupting, but Miss Meachum is here and demanding to meet."

Billy huffs, of course he'd be interrupted by a Meachum. The entire family never understood boundaries.

He looks over at you, facing the windows, taking deep breaths and looking more and more flustered by the second.

"Tell her I'll be with her shortly." He says, hanging up right after.

He studies you, the ripe scent of your arousal filling the air. The panther tears at him, to sit you on his desk and follow through with exactly what he was about to do.

When he resists, the beast plants images of you writhing in pleasure as he licks your strawberry sweet cunt. His cock is half-hard, growing more erect with each second his mind replays what it was like to finally have your soft lips on his.

He swallows, opens his mouth to speak.

You beat him to it.

"I'll drive myself to work from now on." You utter harshly.

He watches in disbelief, mouth parted, as you head to the door, opening it and stepping out without so much as a glance at him.

It's all he needs to realize how much he's fucked up.

A/N: sorry 😞

#werepanther!billy russo #billy russo #monster!billy #monster!billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo x female reader #my writings #the punisher #billy russo smut #ben barnes #billy russo fic #billy russo x y/n

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thesmpisonfire · 10 months

Text

Okay so, I wanna talk about my sonboy Richas, my guy Felps, their relationship, and everything about yesterday as well

So, lets go :D

First thing, Felps actually really don't like taking care of Richas when he's without his armor

Felps has the terrible memory of being the one (together with Cellbit) to watch Richas first death. The three were at a cave and Felps and Cellbit were taken down first and had to watch Richas getting swarmed and die far from their grasp

The death was reverted, but still, when Felps logged in next time, Richas had JUST died to the bull again, so he already had 1 life. It was the very same day, just a couple hours after. Felps always reinforced about the armor, to the point he didn't let Richas take it off even when safe at Foolishs place when he could see Leo didn't wear it

Felps fucking loves that kid, he's just the quieter dad. He won't scream that much, when he panics, he shuts down and focus on the problem. He's the best dad to talk about feelings and often is the one who talks Richas out of his spiraling self deprecating thoughts, while other dads don't have the same touch

Felps has the patience to talk with Richas and hear Richas points. He always is the one talking him into a shower even if it takes a whole trip beforehand so Richas can have fun before it. He sings a lil song to get him through a shower. Ever since he came back from the lab, he trusts Richas a lot with his own strength, he knows Richas can defend himself even better than Felps can defend himself

It means a lot that Felps is the only dad Richas will listen to more easily, even if sometimes it takes a lot of talk and bargain to do so. Richas is a difficult kid, he channels all his sadness and pain into being silly and overly courageous, which means he will be a disobedient kid, he will put himself in danger, he won't listen to his dads if he can make a joke about it and it has been getting worse lately

Richas is Not doing okay, he's constantly scared of losing the ones he love, he feels easily replaceable which makes him panic and act out in 'jealousy'. He has said before he fears his siblings don't really like him and it's why he always wants to have family around, he knows he's a problem and has even apologized to Bad about it once. He thinks he can't express his love through words when he has written so many beautiful things, he paints bc its how he thinks he can better translate his care

Yesterday, after Bad took him and Felps to the graveyard and out of it, Richas went back with Felps and put some flowers around their graves. A small talk started when Felps wondered if the dead eggs were looking down at them, but also couldn't really believe it because they'd be too far up there to actually see anything. Richas then said how people used to tell him Bobby was up in between the stars, but they stopped telling him that 'story'. Then, this talk happened

"Do you think they'd [Dead eggs Richas never met] like me?"

"Ofc they would! Everyone loves you! They'd love you, Richas"

"If I had died today, would I meet them?"

Felps goes quiet for a couple seconds here, then goes back to talking

"Maybe, maybe not. We can never be sure, Richas. What if you died and it's just nothing after, huh? It's a big bet. You can't keep thinking like that and then go throw yourself in front of a zombie horse to find out if they're at the other side"

"Yeah, I wouldn't be able to annoy all the dads, it wouldn't be worth it... I'd miss you all so much" (He used the word saudade)

"Awwn... But you would be dead, Richas. We would be the ones missing you, we would be the ones staying behind"

And to me this is a very telling moment. Because Richas didn't realize people would miss him as well, he just thought about how he'd miss being with the others. He also says how he'd be in hell, missing his family but also laughing at tragedy. When Felps asks why hell, Richas goes "You really think I'd end up in heaven? With the way I am?"

Felps spends the rest of the stream hyping Richas up, telling him how much he's loved and how much everyone cares for him. Felps manages to get through Richas after a while, and they have a nice moment together. Richas already arrived to the square without armor, after having recently argued with Forever about it, and Felps didn't mind bc that area was all lightened up so less mobs were spawning, plus the aforementioned trusts he has on Richas

No one expected the horse because it came from outside the square, right out the border, and literally fell on top of them. Felps was quick to go after it, and Richas was caught out of surprise and got height damage as well, eating through 2 totems (and also having to switch out the other ones from his hand due to the rule)

Felps was smart about the horse, he always hit up high so there wouldn't be any risk of a misclick, he hit crit after crit pushing the horse away so he could better kill it without risking Richas, and he did it! I understand BBHs scare but everything was already solved and Richas was halfway being revived already

If anything, the trip to the cemetery scared Felps more than it did Richas. Richas is well used to the threat of death, he plays with it by jumping into mines and purposefully walking without armor around Forever. But Felps isn't. He wants his kid safe, he wants him alive. Felps was willing to never come back if it meant Richas could have an extra life, he would die over and over for that kid

After everything, he talked with Richas, and the kid didn't rlly need to be convinced to wear his armor now that he knew how the square can be tricky. Felps didn't need to yell, or compare Richas to anyone, or play lil games. Just a talk, and Felps' trust that Richa would now do his part, and he did!

Each mob they encountered next, Richas and Felps stayed side by side. Felps let Richas kill them first bc he knows Richas likes it, but always helping and telling him how he was doing it well. When they were rowing around later in the boat, music playing, Felps went on about how it was all that mattered

Richas was alive, Felps was alive, they got a scare but they were okay now. And it was all worth it for these calm, happy moments. These were the ones that should be remembered, the ones that made it all worth it

#qsmp #felps #q!richarlyson

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vanwritesfan-fiction · 9 months

Note

If you're taking requests I have one 😋

"We were made for each other"

Either Travis or Jack!

Travis spent most of his time taking care of others. When he wasn't supporting his teammates on the field, he was an excellent husband and father, and while he'd never complain about it, you knew that sometimes it was all a bit too much.

On one particular Sunday he came home from his road game, and he seemed a bit off. He was unusually quiet, locking himself away in his office as soon as he got home. You were immediately concerned, but you didn't want to worry the kids, so you just made up a quick excuse and decided to talk to Travis once they were in bed.

You knocked softly on Travis' office door, letting yourself after a few seconds. "Hey, baby." Travis didn't hear you, too focused on the TV, looking over some game tape.

He startled when you put your hands on his shoulders, feeling all of the tight muscle knots along his back. "Hey, I didn't hear you come in." He whispered, giving you a weak smile.

You pulled up a chair to him, placing your hands on his thighs.

"What's going on? Did something happen this weekend?" You knew they were coming off a loss this weekend, but the team had played well all things considered, and Travis usually shook it off before he got home.

"How did Alex's game go yesterday." He scratched at his beard, avoiding eye contact with you. "It was good, don't change the subject, Kelce." Travis chuckled, leaning forward and resting his forearms on his legs, so your faces were only inches apart.

"I don't know, I think I'm just in my head." You rubbed his forearm as he spoke. "I was off of my game, and all of these people online are saying I'm past my prime and that I should just retire before I embarrass myself."

"Do you agree with them?" You stroked his knuckles with your thumb. It was incredibly difficult to get Travis to open up and be vulnerable, so you were trying to tread lightly.

"If you would've asked me last year, I would have said no, but I don't know, maybe people are right. Maybe its time I retire." He sat back in his chair, placing his hands on his head.

"Mhm. Okay." You stood up and grabbed an empty cardboard box before you walked over to the shelves where Travis had his accolades displayed. You took his Espy awards and placed them gently in the box before making your way to the glass boxes where his Super Bowl rings were displayed.

"Hey, what are you doing?" Travis asked frantically, rushing over to you.

"Oh, I just thought we should probably ship these off to those people online. If you think they control your career and get to decide when you retire, maybe they deserve all the praise for everything you've accomplished, too."

"Alright, alright, I get it." Travis took the box from you, placing it on the ground.

"Travis, only you get to decide when you retire, not me, not the Chiefs organization, and especially not some online assholes who hide behind a screen."

Travis wrapped you up in his arms, placing a gentle kiss on your lips. You rested your head on his chest as he held you. "You're the only one who knows how to get me out of my head like this. I don't know what I'd do without you, peaches."

You giggled at the pet name looking up at your husband.

"I don't know what I'd do without you either, Boo Bear. We were made for each other."

#travis kelce #travis kelce fanfiction #travis kelce fanfic #travis kelce imagine #traviskelce #travis kelce x reader #travis kelce concepts #nfl fanfic #nfl imagine #nfl fanfiction

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sundropstories · 8 months

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My Sweet Druig

Pairing:Druigxreader

Summary: Druig and y/n are very old friends. Who realize they're in love with each other when they finally meet again.

Warnings: None :)

A/n: I Hope y’all enjoy since this is my first. I know it’s pretty short but I never see any Druig fics on here so I thought I’d just make one.

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"And they should be coming up soon so we can start this meeting." I hear Tony say on my way down the stairs into our shared living room.

"Who's coming?" I say taking a seat next to Wanda giving her a small smile. "The Eternals" she responds.

I practically jump out of your seat. "Oh my god! You're joking, I haven't seen them in like, forever."

The truth is I haven't seen them since they split up. Which was the year 1521 so basically forever. I remember, I saw them the week before.

See I may look like I'm only 22, but the truth is I'm 1,492 years old. I'm Asgardian. Hela's daughter, actually.

I was raised as the princess of Asgard. I had this arranged marriage thing with Eros. He was the one who knew the Eternals. We'd hangout with them sometimes. Of course after..you know..I moved into the compound, because Asgard kinda...died..screw you mom!.. We called off our engagement.

—

Ding

The elevator opens. We all stand ready to greet them. I run to the front of the group. "Ahh I missed you!" I squeal and hug everyone.

I start to notice someone's missing. My heart sinks. I begin checking my surroundings, Maybe I just didn't see him come in.

"Hey! y/n are you okay?" Makkari signs a worried look painting her face. "Yeah, did Druig happen to come with you guys?" I sign back. "He should've been right behi-"

Ding

The elevator opens again. I immediately turn my attention to the dark haired man entering.

"Druig!" I yell running towards him.

I wrap my arm around him as he lifts me off the ground. "Sorry I'm late" he whispers and I can practically feel his smirk.

I pull away while he keeps his arms around my waist. I move my hands to hold his face. "I thought you didn't come." I whisper to him staring in his almost silver eyes. He's so pretty.

A breathy chuckle leaves his lips "My sweet sweet y/n, I'd never skip an opportunity to see you again." He leans in just enough to give me a small peck on the tip of my nose.

I giggle as I pull him in for another quick hug. Uhem, we're pulled out of our moment by someone clearing their throat.

We pull away from each other facing the rest of the group. "Right, everyone this is Druig my..um..friend, Dru these are the Avengers."

After the meeting everyone spent the rest of the day just getting to know each other. During the meeting we had all decided they'd move into the compound and help us on missions for a bit.

I lean over to my right where Druig sits and whisper just low enough for only him to hear. "Dru, do you wanna go do something else."

"Yeah" he whispers back. We stand and make our way to the balcony for some fresh air.

"So miss y/n you look very different." He says once we're finally alone. "Well yeah, now that there's no Asgard to be princess of , bye bye fancy dresses."

"Good" he says with a small smile. "Good?"

"Yeah, good. I think this suits you better." He says turning his head to look at me. " You don't think I looked good in dresses?" I say looking at him with a confused expression.

"No, you looked good, beautiful even. Just.." He trails off glancing at my lips then back at the stars. "Never mind"

"What? You can't do that!" I say touching his shoulder. "Okay, okay. Just, are you still engaged?" He asks.

I laugh. He gives me a confused look scratching the back of his neck. "What? Why are you laughing?" He says.

"It's just..you're cute and dare I say..a little jealous?" I say a smirk playing on my face. "Wha- I, I'm not..jealous. Why would I be jealous I've always known you'd have to-" I'm not sure where this sudden rush of confidence comes from, but our lips are already connecting.

When we finally pull apart our foreheads still connected, The butterflies begin to catch up to me. His hand resting on my face as the other holds my waist. He lets out a small laugh "I'm gonna take that as a no."

"Good." We pull apart, I turn looking towards the city in attempt to hide the scarlet glow creeping into my face. "Good?" He says mirroring my actions hands now on the balcony railing.

Missing the way they felt around me. "Dru" I say just above a whisper. "Yeah"

"You know that I love you, right?" I notice him shift a bit closer to me. "Of course, I love you too." He says a small smile tugging at his lips. "No Dru, I like, really love you."

He touches my arm with one hand, and with the other softly turns my face to look up at him. "Oh my sweet sweet y/n, I know what you ment."

#druig oneshot #druig eternals #druig imagine #druig fluff #druig x reader #druig #marvel #marvel x reader #eternals

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inkskinned · 2 years

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red used to get me scratchies and we'd sit in his truck quietly working quarters over papers. we aren't biological - my parents are friends with him; i spent enough summer weekends at their cottage on the beach that it feels like family anyhow. he and his wife come to all the family big events like it's no big deal.

i get nervous around people a lot. like i am am intruding, somehow, just by existing. red has the kind of personality that feels calming - like, it's okay, you're supposed to be here. i often will bolt through any explanation of my life or passions - blurting it out in a series of seconds, worried i'll be cut off or it won't be interesting to the other person, desperate to get a sentence finished.

sometimes i wanna be a good friend like painting the sky yellow just 'cause it's your favorite color. like made your favorite dessert. a week ago i caught my finger in a food processor making a three-layer chocolate mousse. called my brother from the kitchen floor, holding paper towel around the cut. surrounded by blood and crushed oreos. after this - i'm okay - i still finished making the dessert.

i used to think if i could study love - in books, in tv, in magazines - i could figure out how to get comfy with it. to trust it. other people kept telling me life is a tightrope love is a net! and i'd flinch. a net is, at the end of the day, to catch things. i can't explain why that's scary.

red says the truck only runs because he asks it nicely. it should have died 23 years back, if anybody is counting. it was quiet in their cabin. the quiet used to make me uneasy. i was waiting for something bad, certain it would happen eventually.

sometimes i think i have to make up for all the ways i'm a bad person and for all the ways that bad things have happened to me by being the nicest, kindest, most beautifully-charming person who will ever be. i think i have to make everyone laugh and clap and leave smiling. if i am very good, they will love me. i still think the love will wear off when they look away. that it comes temporary. so i have to keep it up. i have to keep up being perfect, always, and maybe one of them will keep me.

red once greeted me for the summer by waving me over to a small freezer in the garage. he was secretly stashing all the popsicles with our favorite flavor. truth be told, i think he probably showed my siblings, too - and all the adults definitely knew. but it felt good to pinky-promise that this was just-between-us-two.

i think maybe sometimes the way we learn how to love is just osmosis. like - i wasn't always raised right. i learned love is thin. that it flakes off easy, butterfly wing material. that you have to scrape by with what you get. that you have to earn it. that you have to be funny, cool, full of exciting interests.

if you're lucky, though. i think the quiet ways people can love us work just the same. the simple, gentle hush of a summer holiday. the way the hydrangeas got tall and bushy. what i'm saying is that... if i'm good - really good - if i believe in love, i mean.

i only believe in it because of the way those few kind people showed me. in all the rest of it. their gentle image - eventual reprieve.

#spilled ink #warm up #red is a real person and these are real memories #BUT #his name isn't red #although i associate him w/that color #that family is SUCH good people

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girlzlovinggirlzlovingme · 4 months

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Rough night.

Mom/Daughter incest fluff

TW: lil bit of trauma talk

You're older now, yet you can't stop yourself from acting like a kid. You hold your stuffies to fall asleep, you dress in comfy pajamas that are more suited for someone half your age, and you still can't help wanting to cuddle up to mommy whenever you're not feeling okay.

You're scared she thinks you need to grow up. You worry that she'd rather have her little girl be someone who doesn't need to be held whenever she has a bad day. Sometimes, when she's not around you find it a little hard to be happy being yourself, and other times it's like that even when she's around.

One day, it's one of those "hard to be happy" days. The type where when you're supposed to be sleeping, you end up laying on your back while staring at the ceiling, perpetually feeling worse. Even though you know she can't hear you tell her, "I'll be right back" and "I'm gonna go go the bathroom." Both of which are lies you say just because it's hard to admit you're more scared and anxious than you probably should be, and you don't want to make her see her little girl cry.

You sit in the living room, flooding your face with tears upon tears, wondering why you're even crying at all. You know she's not there, but you say sorry over and over because you wanna be a big girl, one that she can love. It's an awkward mix of feeling like being alone is the worst thing in the world, but if anyone sees you, then you'll feel pathetic.

You keep crying, on and on, while trying to build enough stability to go back in the bedroom and fall asleep like nothing happened. It almost feels like it's over, the end of the worst panic attack in a while, but it finds itself coming back full force when you hear her voice asking, "What's wrong, baby?"

You try telling her, but it's too much of a struggle to speak. You can't even form the proper words, and that just makes you feel all the worse. Now, your mama sits right next to you, holding you close and trying to make you feel okay. The only thing her coddling does, though, is make you feel like you're doing something wrong with your life.

"I-I-I. . . I'm sorry, Mommy." The words sheepishly escape your lips while you focus on maintaining your breathing. "I want to. . . to. . . I want to be good for you."

"You are good for me, baby." She holds you closer, a loving embrace that makes you feel better as much as it makes you feel worse. "You don't need to apologize. I know you may not feel like it, but I think you're perfect for me, sweetheart." Her hand moves under your chin, moving your head so her eyes lock directly with yours. The love and care in her eyes make you melt like chocolate on a hot day. It never ceases to stop you and leave you speechless. "I love you because of the way you are, not because I want you to be any different. I love the way you love me, and I love the way that you're you."

Loves you because you're you.

The words keep floating in your head. The longer you think about them, the more it feels like you're gonna cry forever.

"I'm sorry for being like this, Mama. . ." You turn your head away. You feel if she looks at you for any longer, then maybe she'll fall out of love.

"If you were any other way, then I wouldn't love you even a fraction as much." She takes a second and lets out a light sigh. "Y'know the first few times we started sleeping together after you admitted you had a little crush on me, I felt kind of ashamed. . . I thought I'd be a bad mom if I kept doing that kind of stuff. . . But I never once stopped because it made me too happy, and I knew if I ever quit, I wouldn't find anything that'd make me that happy for the rest of my life. . . . I really do love you, baby."

"I love you too, mom." You wrap both your arms around her and hold her tight, wanting to never ever let her go.

She readjusts herself and lays down on the couch, her perfect little girl laying on her chest, holding her like her life depends on it.

Neither of you could be any happier if you tried.

After a long night, you finally find yourself able to get some sleep. It's damn good, too.

#fauxcest #wlw ns/fw #fauxcest fluff #mother/daughter #ʕ ● ᴥ ● ʔ

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happyandticklish · 8 months

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I've Created a Monster

So, I took the, maybe ill-advised, plunge, and told the dude I've been seeing for the past three months that I'm into tickling

And it turned out fucking great, I still cannot believe my luck in this area

Apologies if I rant for a bit. I have been living out my dreams for the past couple of weeks and need to share it with someone (outside of a few people already in the community who I've already told) or I will explode. It gets a tad TMI at the end, so I put that bit under the cut for people's comfort. So beware of that in advance

So a bit of background. I had been seeing this dude for about a month and a half when we got on the subject of kinks. At first just kind of generally discussing them, and eventually getting into what we're into. And I admitted that I had one that was a bit weird, not only because it was unorthodox, but also because I had a huge amount of trouble actually saying what it was, which of course spiked his curiosity. But he was really chill about it and didn't push, but there kept being tickly moments that kept popping up naturally in the relationship, none of which were lasting longer than a couple seconds. As such, mostly out of frustration at the brevity of these moments, I mustered up the courage at 3am to finally confess.

He was quiet for a bit and mostly just held me (I think because I definitely looked as anxious as I felt--I also have to give him props for having patience during the three fucking minutes it took me to confess because I was working up the courage to simply say the Word). Then he started asking me how long I'd known that I was into it, why I was into it, what appealed to me about tickling, things along that line, all of which I stumbled my way through answering. He then proceeded to inform me that he didn't think I was weird, or that liking tickling was weird, and that he had been expecting much worse and thought it was kind of cute.

After that, tickling started cropping up more in the relationship. It took a while to explain that I was totally okay with more intense tickling and that me squirming away and sometimes asking him to stop were reflexes that should be ignored (it was somewhat endearing how he would immediatelly stop to make sure I was good, if somewhat frustrating sometimes), but he eventually got it. He even briefly pinned me down once, a move he has yet to repeat, but eventually I will get up the courage to ask him to.

I had told him that I was into both doing and receiving the tickling, but also that he was under no pressure to get tickled if he didn't want to. But after a while we were cuddling when he said, quote, "I think I'm actually into this tickling thing. It feels kind of nice whenever you do it to me, and I do love how much it gets to you." And then gave me permission to tickle him, which was way more than I was hoping for

Although he is able to control his reactions and just stay still for it which is baffling to me ("well if I moved, it would stop happening??" yeah?? I know?? But most people can't do that shit 🤨)

Guys. He started looking into tools and shit. This man is researching into the community. Came to me all excited like a dork, talking about feathers and toothbrushes and the fucking Wartenberg Wheel and how he thinks that he'd may be be down to include bondage with tickling stuff (which I'd mentioned I'd be into before). He was all, "I also discovered that some people are into tickle torture, isn't that wild?" Meanwhile I'm over here like, "yeah, it is wild, isn't it, imagine that haha"

He's suggested safe words on his own too, worked out boundaries,,,,

Anyways. He's embraced this way more than I can image and I am living the dream

TMI under cut! Avert your eyes if shmexy things make you uncomfy!

He's also started tickling me while we fuck (and sometimes when he goes down on me) and my fellow people of tumblr. It makes everything so insanely intense. I have had to be like, "babe, I love this, this is great, but I cannot concentrate on any coherent goal if you keep this up".

Also definitely discovered that my ass is ticklish during this process and it is a fact that he will not let go. Not that I am complaining 😏

#tickling #personal #spicy #tickle moments #its been wild man #the most i was hoping for when i got with someone was to maybe occasionally engage in moments of tickling the same as any other couple #definitely not this #i am living out my wildest fantasies over here #he could definitely probably go more intense than he does go but i also havent talked to him about that at all as im working up the courage #hes also obviously fine saying The Word and thinks its weird but endearing that i cant say it #he does think its weird that im so weird about this #because hes so intensely okay about anything he discovers hes into #but he says he finds it cute so ill take the win #the boo ❤️

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