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#sorry I can't resist that trope

osachiyo · 7 months

Text

"JUST THE TIP, BABY ! "

❐ content warnings ➩ nsfw (mdni), penetrative sex, teasing, somnophilia, petnames, established relationship, dom!character & sub!reader, full nelson (toji), prone bone (suguru), semi public sex (satoru), unprotected sex (don't do this), whiney satoru etc

❐ author's note ➩ I've been going feral for jjk men, and I find this trope so sexy. anyway, happy reading 'n hope y'all enjoy this <3

❐ summary ➩ your lover promises to only put in just the tip, but will he keep it?

≛ MINORS DNI OR I'LL KICK YO ASS ! ≛

๑ satoru ๑

"please baby− need ya s'bad," your boyfriend whined, rutting his hips into your clothed pussy. You two were on a mission, to defeat some special grade curses. "satoru− we can't! we're outside and on a mi−!" you couldn't even finish your sentence before he was sliding your panties to the side, stroking himself before lining up with your entrance. "please, just the tip− I promise, yeah?" he panted out, desperate to be inside you, staring at you with those ocean blue eyes as he waited for your permission. Once you reluctantly gave him the go-ahead, he slapped the tip of his cock against your clit before slowly pushing into you with a wet 'pop!' Your fingernails dug into his broad shoulders, strong arms propping you against the cold brick wall. "sh-shiit baby, fuuuck," he drawled, resting the urge to just slam into you without warning and fuck your brains out. But he couldn't− he promised he wouldn't.

All thoughts of resistance went out the drain when he looked at your face. Your pretty little face; mouth slightly agape as soft moans and hums escape your glossed lips, brows furrowed slightly as you looked up at him with those hazy eyes of yours. I mean, could you really blame him for slamming into you when you look at him like that? He could feel his eyes slightly roll back as your pussy engulfed him fully, loud and lewd squelching and skin against skin noises bounced off the walls of the alley. Your juices ran down your legs and his balls. God, he was insatiable when it came to you. "you− you said just the− mmh!− tip!" you babbled, hands reaching up to grip and tug at his white hair, some of it sticking to his sweaty forehead. "so sorry, pretty− this pussy's just too fuckin' goood−" he slurred, hips slamming into you as his lips smashed into yours for a messy kiss.

Really, you should've known this would happen.

๑ suguru ๑

His smiles slyly before nodding, knowing from the start that it won't take long before you crumble and beg him to fuck you silly. Snickering when you shyly ask him to put more of it in, impatient and needy for his throbbing cock inside you. He wouldn't admit it, but he's glad, he doesn't think he could stand another minute without fully plunging inside your gummy walls.

You could feel his bangs tickling your back as he presses soft kisses on the dip of your back, all the way to your shoulders before biting hard and slamming all the way into your awaiting cunt. He groaned as his hips were flush against your ass, pulling your head back by the roots of your hair before kissing you roughly. The headboard slammed against the wall with each harsh snap of his hips, abs clenching everytime a filthy noise escaped your parted lips as tears gathered on your lashes. his ravened hair cascaded down his muscular and scarred back, "thought you wanted− haah− just the tip, princess? can't even go by your own− mm yes fuck! juust like that−!" he groaned, rolling his hips against your ass with even more vigour, "can't even go by your own words, princess?" you could hear the grin in his voice, so damn smug, but you were in no position to complain, were you?

๑ toji ๑

you were peacefully reading a book, laying on your stomach− when your giant of a husband laid on top of you, his crotch right against your ass. "whatcha' readin', mama?" he questioned, breath low and gravelly against your ear. "jus' an erotic novel," you hummed, neck snapping to look at him when you felt him grinding shamelessly on your ass, "boooring, and whatcha' need erotic novels for? I'm right fuckin' here," he scoffed, making your eyes roll. "yeah okay, toji. only reading it for the male lead, he's like this god at sex−" you got cut off by your own gasp, as his large hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing it lightly, "oh yeah? betcha' 20 bucks I could do better." You pouted, excitement already pooling in your panties, "but, I reaaaally wanna read this." Toji only rolled his eyes, "c'mon baby, y'know I'm more fun than a goddamn book?" "okay, fine... but only the tip, alright?"

Toji was not happy, only getting to feel your pussy clenching on his tip, god you were so stingy! He figures he could just fold you and fuck the living daylights out of you− wait, why isn't he doing that right now?

You could feel him in your throat from how deep he was, a small bulge forming on your lower tummy everytime he thrusted into you ruthlessly. He had you in a full nelson in front of the full view mirror you loved and decorated with your cute little stickers. Heavy breaths of 'atta girl' and 'so fuckin' tight f'me, mama,' slipped out of his scarred lips, your face heating up from the desire in his voice. A palm reached down to smack your pretty pussy, your eyes opening as your gaze landed on his face in the mirror. He was smirking triumphantly, strong arms holding you up with ease, "heh, guess ya owe me 20 bucks now, sweet girl."

๑ kento ๑

Your husband, Nanami questioned his morals when he found himself hiking your nightgown up your thighs in the middle of the night, moonlight seeping in through the opened window, illuminating your features with a gentle glow, and it made him fucking feral.

That's why he had your skimpy little gown bunched up at your waist right now, he already prepped you, eating your pussy out until you gushed in his mouth, he felt too guilty not to, even if you reassured him beforehand that it was okay. He only planned to put the tip in, not wanting to wake you up at 2 am just because he couldn't keep it in his pants− even if he knew that you didn't mind, you never did. But fuck, your walls were clenching and unclenching around him so deliciously and... the next thing he knew, he was ramming into your drooling pussy, jaw clenched as he muttered soft applogies. He buried his face into your neck when you woke with a yelp, moaning and sputtering as you try to process the situation. your pussy was practically drooling and sucking him in eagerly, back arching offt he bed as his thick fingers found your clit, giving it some attention to make you cum on his cock. He smelt like cologne, and still had his work clothes on− letting you know that he came home not too long ago. His cock was hitting your sweet spot with each snap of his hips, gooey cunt swallowing him whole as he let out the most guttural noises, "fuck− sorry for the rude awakening, dear− I couldn't help myself.."

©sachiyoh — do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, reblogs are very appreciated ♡

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angelltheninth · 1 year

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This is more of an anime trope then a fairy tail one but how do you think the TWST dorm leaders would react to a kiss that happens by accident, where the Reader maybe trips or somehow crashes into them? Would they kiss back, blush, try to make a joke a brush it off?

Definitely a more anime trope but one that I like when its done well.

Pairing: Riddle, Leona, Azul, Kalim, Vil, Idia, Malleus x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, developing relationship, kissing, confessions, teasing, protectiveness

A/N: Anime tropes, just like any other trope, can be a lot of fun if done right. So here are some of my favorite outcomes for this one.

Riddle blushes hard from embarrassment that someone saw this happen. He grabs you by the shoulders and looks around frantically, his hands trembling as much as his lips are. He's wide eyed, almost shaken up from the sudden kiss. Why did it have to happen like this? He'd been meaning to kiss you, he was planning to ask you on a date. Now its all out of order. Ah, whatever, he can adapt, he will adapt. As soon as he gets his heart to calm down.

Leona would tease you about how damn clumsy you are. What if he wasn't there to catch you? You're lucky you're so cute so he has a interest in you, otherwise this wouldn't go unpunished by him. Stealing a kiss from him, he can't have that now can he. He needs to steal it back. In a blink of an eye its no longer him whose on the ground but you, witch his smirking face inching ever closer as you close your eyes and accept his lips on yours.

Azul asks you to be more careful in the future. He was here for you now but he might not be next time. He's not mad about the kiss, really he isn't, he just wants you to make sure this doesn't happen with anyone else. To make sure of that he'll just have to stick close to you from now on. He's not gonna just go past the kiss either, wanting another one every time he keeps you from falling. Consider it his payment, a trade, a deal if you will.

Kalim would freak out that you got hurt. The moment your lips part he'd look you over for injuries. As much as he'd try to he wouldn't be able to stop himself from glancing at your lips with want, longing to repeat the kiss but too shy to ask. You notice him looking, apologetic for giving him trouble like this. It's no issue for him, he's just glad that you're alright. When he's done and he tells you he found no injuries you give him a kiss on the cheek as a thank you, flustering both of you even more.

Vil thinks this is your confession to him, a bold one at that, he's impressed, so he kisses you back, pressing you against the nearest wall. His hands were already on your hips and there was no resistance on your end, so he found no reason to stop kissing you. You're more slick then he thought you know that? That's worthy of his respect and his attention. And since you already took the first step he will take the next: would you do him the honor of having dinner with him tonight?

Idia would pull his hood up to hide you both from view. He's pretty embarrassed about your first kiss happening like this and he'd rather not have it seen by literally everyone. He makes it seem like it wasn't a big deal and he just happened to catch you while you fell, doesn't even say anything about the kiss until you're in the privacy of your dorm room. You really should be more careful you know, he tries to scold you but he can't help but want to kiss you again so he can't get his voice to sound stern, rather it sounds extremely flustered, matching you when you ask if you can say sorry with another kiss.

Malleus is extremely shocked by your kiss. He's got his arms around you and you can hear his heart beating out of his chest like a drum. He's been pining for you for a while, he's wanted to do this for a while, to hold you and kiss you and whisper that he loves you into your ear. That wasn't supposed to slip out like it just did but now that his confession is out in the open already, what do you say, do you want to give him a chance? He'll gladly give you more kisses if you say yes.

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kairiscorner · 8 months

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no thoughts just miguel turning into a cat. like a literal cat bc of sum villain did sumn to him on a mission and we have to babysit him. him as a cat would be so grumpy and would hiss if anyone touched him but ofc miguel o’purra has a soft spot for us ( • ̀ω•́ )✧ he’d be the purrfect cat me thinks plus bonus points bc him as a cat is 100% extra clingy and demands to be perched on your lap or shoulder at all times <3

AWWWWWW ngl this is reminding me of the tropes in cartoons i used to watch as a kid, where like, the only way for a stubborn character to get with the person they secretly like is through being an animal the character doesn't realize that's actually them (this sounds so fucking confusing i'm sorry) but yeah, I WANNA DO THAT FOR THIS HEUHEUHUEHUE

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 – miguel o'purra and you.

miguel o'purra is a very angry kitty, one that loves to hiss, scratch, and bite—though, when you're rubbing that sweet spot on his stomach all slowly and gently... he lives up to his name and quits being grumpy for a bit and just purrs as you rub that spot on him.

miguel o'purra is a bratty kitty, he hates not getting what he wants—despite hearing his own, normal voice in his own head, he hates it when lyla nor anyone else at the spider society can understand his angry purrs of frustration when he's asking for updates on anomalies or for a leg (or paw) up to get something because... he's such a small little kitten now.

miguel o'purra refuses help, he kicked ben reilly in the face when the blonde guy picked him up and cooed to him, and he hissed at jess when she baby talked the cute little thing. he definitely scratched peter b multiple times when the stubborn brunette tried getting the cat to warm up to him, but no, he was a very grumpy kitten that didn't want anyone to do things for him.

miguel o'purra hates everyone at HQ, he can finally be vocal about it through his incessant hissing, scratching, biting, kicking, and... littering on others' desks as revenge for taking your attention away from him while he was still human. it's petty, sure, and he did debate with himself whether or not to do this because it is pretty disgusting—but he can't help but want you to tend to him, your touch is the nicest and softest to him, why can't he be in your arms for the whole day while he's like this? without having to worry what you think of him the next day because he's just a cute, helpless, furious little furball that just so happens to prefer you over everyone else.

miguel o'purra is not appeciative of the fact you kindly named him 'mr. furball', he glares at you every time you call for him like that. he finds it a little degrading, too, because he still has his human consciousness intact; he's just in the body of a cat. though, he does like how your eyes light up and how your smile widens whenever he walks over to you and nuzzles up by your legs whenever you call for him, it warms his little heart, though he isn't sure why.

miguel o'purra knows he should be hatching up a plan to break this stupid spell that has technically incapacitated him in this feline form, but... he can finally have a day of rest since you insist on giving this cute kitty you found the most proper grooming and makeover fit for royalty, royal cats, that was.

miguel o'purra doesn't mind how your hands are all over his furry little body as your brush his hair, trim his long claws, how you boop his little paw pads that make him purr lowly whenever you touch the sensitive pads on his paws—and when you rub in between his ears all gently, just stroking his head all hypnotically and repetitively... he smiles a little, and it warms your heart so, so much.

miguel o'purra despises baths, however—he has such killer instincts whenever you're about to put him in the bath full of water, his archnemesis. he literally spreads all his legs out and clings on to the walls of the bathtub to stop you from putting him in the bath, aggressively hissing in resistance.

miguel o'purra loves being rewarded for such good behavior. he loves being stroked on his back and on his head, on those sweet spots he loves being touched on so, so much. he's relaxed like this, being on your lap while you work and try finding miguel, not knowing he was right here on your lap as 'mr. furball', but you didn't need to know that.

miguel o'purra accidentally brushes his little fuzzy paws over your thighs, tickling you. he gets all surprised and arches his back, jolting up, realizing he touched you by accident. you giggle and ask 'mr. furball' why he's so on edge and compliment his fuzzy little paws, with him purring in a questioning tone if you meant what you said. you reassure him and tell him your lap was basically his second home; he feels like he could just live like this forever, but he resists that notion and treads lightly when it came to you and your irresistibly beautiful lap.

miguel o'purra doesn't want to leave your side; he's always perched on your lap and will hiss at and swing his claws at anyone who dares take you away from him. you tell him you aren't going anywhere, but he doesn't buy it—he wants to go with you and protect you, even as a cat; he has claws for a reason, and he's unafraid to use them now, especially as a cute, fuzzy little clingy furball that loves you dearly.

tags !! @miguelswifey04 @hearts4gabri @hisachuu @wreakingmarveloushavok @fictarian @yuridopted0 @simsrandomstuff @luvstarrstruck @popeheywardssecretgf @meeom @arachnoia @melovetitties @fable-library @ophanimgold @smokeywhalee @capnshtfce

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m0llygunn · 10 months

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Apologies and Promises (eddie munson x fem!reader)

Part 3 to Same Old Song and Dance 01 / 02 Summary: Hurt feelings hidden under the shallow guise of anger and indifference, in an inebriated state there’s no choice but to face the layers of truth.

Tropes: enemies to lovers (kind of), mean stubborn idiots in love, honestly idk at this point. Warnings: 18+! mature language, ‘bullying’, forcible wrist holding, pet names (princess, sweetheart, angel, baby), mentions of oral (m receiving), angst, alcohol consumption, vomit mention. Author’s note: I am resisting the urge to over explain why theres no smut and this chapter was needed to progress feelings (i know smut is a selling point IM SORRY... but soon i swear it'll be back). wc: 7.2k+

tags: @needylilgal022 @tlclick73 @ropickle @suethh @jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels @emma77645 @yujyujj

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

You didn’t wait around for him to show but you also didn’t expect to have to wait around for him to show.

You’re not disappointed. Why should you be? You didn’t want him to pick you up anyways.

If anything, you’re pissed.

He relentlessly badgered you last night about it. Wouldn’t leave until you agreed to let him drive you to school. He was so insistent, that he nearly slept on your floor using that stupid notebook as a pillow.

You’re not disappointed.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“Want me to knock him out?” Steve offers and you can’t help but laugh.

Steve was dropping off his coworker-turned-best friend, Robin, when you were walking into school. He’s a close family friend— and Nancy’s on-again-off-again boyfriend, so you happily stopped for a chat.

“Steve. I hate to break it to you but Munson’s a veteran school fighter. He might not win every fight but he’s definitely been in more fights than you.” You say, patting Steve on the cheek as he comically deflates before you.

“Hey! I won the last fight I was in and I’ve been working on my biceps, can’t you tell?” He says, flexing his arms.

“Yeah, yeah.” You smile, watching Steve flex his unnoticeably larger arms until he rounds up his antics and leans back against his car. “Your dad at that work conference thing too?” You ask, curiously wondering if it really is a work trip your dad’s on right now.

“Absolutely. Any chance to get away, right?” Steve says with a somber laugh.

“I know the feeling...any chance.” You reply, nodding your head in agreement.

“Yeah, well.” Steve shrugs. “Might throw a party, might not.” He says indifferently. You perk up at the idea of a party. It’s always the same crowds that show, you know the list of attendees like the back of your hand.

“You should, I can get Nance to come along, maybe you can rekindle.” You say, hitting Steve’s arm. This could be to his benefit too, Nancy has been bringing him up again recently and that’s always the catalyst to the ‘on again’ portion of their relationship.

“You got some kind of insight?” Steve replies, eyes studying you.

You purse your lips, choosing your words wisely. “Can't say. Bad enough I already told you my business, can’t tell you her business too, Stevie.”

Steve smiles, shaking his head, accepting your answer because he knows that’s as close as he’ll get to you spilling Nancy's secrets.

He knows all about your rivalry with Munson, and as much as he doesn’t like the guy, he was actually the first one who suggested sleeping with him quite some time ago. It was a joke of course… yet here you are. You figured he deserved to know that he was some sort of prophet, so you filled him in. Not in as much detail as you did with Nancy, but you told him the gist of it.

Your conversation with Steve simmers to a lull, both of you watching over the crowd of students funnelling from the parking lot into the school. You’re not explicitly looking for it, but you can’t help but notice the lack of a certain obnoxiously loud van.

“You’re good, right?” Steve asks, shoulder bumping your own.

“Yeah.” You sigh.

“You sure?” He asks again, turning towards you enough to gauge your reaction. You shrug your shoulders.

“Maybe a little embarrassed.” You say, shifting back and forth on your feet, eyes still flickering over the bustling parking lot.

“Don’t be. Fuck him.” He says making you snort a laugh.

“Fuck him?” You question, smirk playing on your lips.

“No! I mean, unless you want to. But he did stand you up so…” Steve says trailing off. You try to laugh it off but it sounds more like a scoff.

“Yup. Eddie Munson stood me up.” You say, words rolling off your tongue in a confusing cross between regret and hurt even when you meant for it to be a joke. A laughable comment between two friends who know how you and Eddie interact, who know he’s nothing more than a nuisance to you, nothing more than an incessant house fly that just won’t quit circling you.

You never thought you’d be saying that in this lifetime. You never thought he’d have the opportunity to stand you up.

You tell yourself you’re not disappointed, but the words sure do taste like it.

You shrug your shoulders, shaking off your thoughts. “I should go, bell’s about to ring.”

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

It was during your second period math quiz. A timid, curly headed freshman knocked on the door interrupting the silence of the room.

Mrs. Rotman stood from her desk, crossing the room, engaging in a whispered conversation with the boy. She turned to look around the room, eyes flitting over the students before landing on you. She turned back to the boy, whispered something to him and sent him on his way.

You tried to pretend you were busy doing your quiz but it was hard with her eyes focused on you as she walked in your direction.

“Honey, your fathers in the office for you. Something about a family emergency. Don’t worry about the quiz, sweetie.” She whispered, leaning down to your level with sullen eyes that made your heart rate pick up.

“Family emergency?” You questioned anxiously.

“Yes dear, go on and head down to the office.” She said, patting your back.

Leaving behind your quiz that you barely had a chance to start on, you quietly let yourself out of the class.

Speed walking down the hall, opening the door to the stairwell with enough force for the sound to echo against the cement walls and linoleum floors, you hurry to descend the stairs. With your mind busy, rifling through what potential family emergency would bring your father back to town, you didn’t even notice him standing by the stairwell exit until you stepped down onto the landing.

There’s a moment before he looks at you. A moment where your heart beats faster. A moment where you’re flooded with scary feelings. A moment were you remember last night. And a moment were you remember this morning.

“Oh for god's sake.” You groan, leaving that moment behind, churning everything into a genuine annoyance because you fell for such a stupid trick.

“Princess, funny seeing you here. Daddy’s been waiting.” Eddie says, smirk plastered on his face, waiting with his back against the wall, trying to exude some sort of coolness that he doesn’t possess.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You spit, burning hot from the inside out. Eddie deflates in front of you, smirk dropping as he steps away from the wall towards you.

“No?” He says, almost like he’s asking you.

“Why the fuck would you think this was okay?” You sneer, voice raising in volume. He shrinks further.

“Just wanted to see you.” He shrugs, eyes falling to the ground.

If he 'wanted to see you', he wouldn’t have stood you up.

“You wanted to see me?” You scoff bewilderedly.

“Yeah, and apologize for this morning.” He says, eyes flickering up to you.

You spin on your heels, ready to explain the situation to Mrs. Rotman and go back to finishing your quiz. You don't want to hear an apology for that.

“Shit— Princess, come back!” He calls after you. You hear feet clambering, catching up to you just as you clear the first set of stairs. His grasp captures your wrist and you get the eeriest sense of deja vu.

“Princess, c’mon, let me apologize.” He says, voice pleading as you try to tug yourself free.

“No. You can apologize to Mrs. Rotman’s math class for interrupting everyone during the quiz.” You huff, using all your weight to try and free yourself.

“No, let me apologize to you.” He insists. You feel your heart rate pick up and in an instant you spin, startling Eddie with your fast movement.

“Do you think this is funny, Eddie?” You spit, brows furrowed, face flushing hot in anger.

With his mouth pulled in a flat line, he shrugs.

You know he's hardly phased by your spitfire and you step closer to up the ante.

“No, seriously? Are you having fun, Eddie? Answer the question.” You say, burning your gaze into his.

He doesn't indulge you in an answer, he just looks at you with round eyes. He doesn't cower, he doesn’t spit heated words back, he just remains looking at you with his stupidly big eyes. You're not even sure if his disposition is meant to soothe you, but it does and you hate it. It irons out nearly every wrinkle of anger and you hate it.

“I know none of this matters to you, Eddie, but it matters to me.” You say, mustering up every blazing emotion you have left in you but it comes out too gentle to be anger.

“What matters to you?” He asks quietly, his face softening, eyes getting impossibly rounder. His grip on your wrist loosens as he steps closer to you.

You press your lips closed, breathing deeply to compose yourself. Your sentiment is ambiguous, you recognize that. Whether is was purposeful or not is a mystery to even you. You wouldn't admit this matters, whatever this is between you and Eddie, never. You couldn't.

Even if you didn't leave space for ambiguity, you know what he's asking right now. Does he matter to you, does this matter to you?

“School, idiot.” You say quietly. You cover ambiguity by shutting him down and embellishing it with an insult. It's a lie, you both know it. It’s an orchestrated move at this point; he steps right, you step left.

He moves in closer to you, toe to toe, his chest less than arm's length away. His grip on your wrist slides down, stopping just before your palm, inches away from being a hand hold.

“You're only upset because I took you away from your quiz?” He asks quietly, amusement hinting in his tone. His eyes flicker to your lips.

“Yes.” You reply flatly. You lick your lips instinctively and you mentally scold yourself.

“No, you're not.” He laughs softly, eyes only watching your lips now. “You're really that desperate to finish a math quiz?” He asks, amusement becoming forthright.

He does think this is funny and it makes your blood boil.

“Stop doing that.” You sneer but it comes out weak.

“Stop doing what?” He asks, eyes still unmeeting of yours.

His overconfidence and arrogance buzzes around in your head, spurring on your anger. You feel cornered by him calling your bluff and nothing good has ever come from that, especially when your heart is beating so fast you can't hear your own thoughts.

“Assuming you know me, Eddie. You don’t.” You snap, hammering your words into him like nails in a coffin, punctuating your words with a tug of your wrist but his grasp hardens, not letting you go.

He finally looks up at you, eyes meeting your gaze and you can tell your words stung by the mirrored reflection of hurt. He looks taken aback. Whatever he thought was about to happen, you pulled it out from under him like a mean trick and hurt switches to anger.

“So you’re really only upset because you’re here?” He scoffs, brows pinching.

“I just fucking said that.” You spit back.

“And you’re not at all upset because I didn’t pick you up this morning?” And that's all he has to say to send you into a flighty panic. You won't look truth in the eye, you can't.

“Eddie. Let go.” You seethe, tugging your wrist harshly. You bring your other hand to his in an attempt to pry his fingers off. His grip isn’t enough to hurt you, it’s simply unrelenting, a desperate attempt to finish this conversation.

"Princess—" He starts but you interrupt him, not wanting to hear anymore, not wanting to give him another opportunity to throw your own feelings in your face.

"Let go." You say, your volume raising out of desperation.

“Fine. Just fucking relax for a minute, Jesus Christ.” He groans, when you start swatting at his forearm. His own annoyance rises and it pisses you off because what does he have to be annoyed about? He’s not the one that got stood up.

“I am relaxed!” You shriek, squeezing your eyes shut and stamping your foot.

Eyes still closed, you listen to your own voice echoing off the walls, forcing you to hear yourself. It sounds like a reverb of hurt between the two of you. Despite the meaningless message your words attempt to convey, it sounds like a slip of honesty, a slip of your true feelings and how he’s affected them. It sounds tears short of being an angered cry.

A beat passes before the echoes subside, leaving the two of you in silence.

“Princess.” Eddie whispers softly. His voice isn’t loud like yours, it doesn’t vibrate off the walls but it still echoes in your consciousness, occupying a space hugged tightly next to your heartbeat.

You feel fingertips ghost over your cheeks, delicate in nature despite residing in the antagonistic warland that you and Eddie have fostered together. Your heart catches in your throat and you hate it.

Your face pinches in its default anger. You ready yourself to scold him, but when you open your eyes and all you see is soft, warm brown staring back at you, it doesn’t come. You hate it.

He closes his grasps on your face, both hands holding you gently by the jaw. Both hands.

Your wrist set free, you pull away, storming back down the stairs. He steps forward, you run away— another orchestrated move.

Hearing yourself is too much, you need air. You need somewhere where your own thoughts can't reverb like your words against cement and linoleum. You need something to get you thinking straight.

Scuffing sneakers echo behind you as you clear the staircase, cross the foyer, and push open the door to the parking lot. You expect a hand around your wrist again but it doesn’t come.

You slow to a walk and so does he, his steps crunching on the pebble covered pavement as he trails behind you quietly.

You round the corner of the building before leaning against the wall, expectant hand held out towards Eddie.

He tentatively raises his arm, fingers grazing yours, palm just barely ghosting your own, before you smack him away.

“No you idiot, cigarette.” You say, exhaling deeply.

He mumbles an embarrassed apology before digging through his pocket.

“Here.” He says quietly, passing over his carton of camels.

You pull one out, placing it between your lips, Eddie’s eyes watching your every move. Flickering the lighter that was tucked into the empty space of the box, you light it up, smoke pluming from the corners of your lips as you take your first drag. Eddie swallows harshly, lost in thought.

“Well?” You snap, his eyes fleeting back to yours.

“R-right. I’m sorry I didn’t pick you up this morning, princess. I’m really really sorry.” He says softly, strumming the chords of your heart with his words. You hate it.

“Why should you be sorry about that, I didn’t want you to anyways.” You say, trying to sound indifferent. You don’t though. You hear your own voice just like you did in the stairwell and you sound like a little kid who hasn’t quite mastered the art of fibbing. It’s a jejune lie, not even a good one.

“I said I would though, and I didn’t. I’m sorry.” He says, round eyes set on you.

The sun glimmers against his hair making the wavy brown strands look golden, a perfect match to the gold in the eyes staring at you right now.

He’s genuinely sorry, you believe him, and you hate it.

Continuing on your juvenile streak, you pocket his lighter before handing back his carton. You know he sees you do it but he doesn’t say anything.

“Whatever, Eddie.” You mumble, taking a drag from your cigarette.

You let your head fall against the brick behind you, eyes scanning thoughtlessly over the surrounding thick tree line. Eddie takes a step, his shoulder hitting the wall as he leans against it, still facing you.

“Don't you wanna know where I was?” He asks carefully, a testing tease lingering around his words.

“Not really, but I have a feeling you’re gonna tell me anyway.” You retort, folding your arms over your chest, your burning cigarette skillfully held out to not get ash on yourself. Eddie exhales a light laugh before leaning into you.

“Well, princess.” He starts, leaning in even closer. “I accidentally slept in because I was too busy staying up all night thinking about this girl who gave me the best head of my life.”

“Gross.” You scoff, hiding your smile by taking another drag.

“Fuck yeah. It was certified sloppy toppy. I think I was reborn yesterday, died and got as close to heaven as I ever will.” He says, body twisting so his head knocks against the brick wall dramatically.

“Now you're just sucking up.” You grimace, taking another drag.

He laughs softly before the both of you fall into a quiet lull. You partially expected him to make some kind of joke out of ‘sucking up’ but he doesn’t. Only the sound of trees blowing in the wind can be heard, along with scattered chirps of birds in the distance.

“Are you still mad at me?” He asks, breaking the silence. You let your eyes flicker to him before focusing back on your barely burnt cigarette. You drop it, stomping it out under your shoe. It was a waste of a cigarette, but Eddie doesn’t say anything.

“I wasn’t mad at you.” You reply, facing towards the tree line again.

“Okay, princess.” He sings, clearly not believing you. “But everything aside… we’re good?” He asks, watching you carefully.

“Eddie.” You exhale. That’s a big thing for him to ask of you and he doesn’t even realize it. How can you say that everything between the two of you is good when… What even is there between the two of you? Are you even friends? It's another truth you're not willing to face.

“Princess, tell me we’re okay or else you’ll keep me up another night.” He says, slouching his shoulders.

“You’re being dramatic.” You laugh. He steps closer to you, hand raising and grasping a piece of your hair. You watch in your periphery as he swirls it between his fingers.

“I’ll never get another wink of sleep, I’m begging you. Tell me we’re okay or tell me how to fix it.” He says, tiptoeing even closer to you.

“Eddie.” You laugh again, shaking your head. The hair between his fingers falls but he’s quick to reach for the strands that fell into your face, skillfully tucking it behind your ear.

“All I’m asking for is your forgiveness. What d’you say, angel?” He whispers. You turn your head, looking at him skeptically with raised brows.

“Angel? I think that’s hardly a fitting name.” You scoff.

“Trust me, it’s fitting. After last night.” He says, hand retreating from you to grab his heart dramatically, throwing his body back against the brick wall in a swoon.

“Suck up.” You say trying to hide your amusement. You watch him as he continues his antics, biting your lip to hide your smile.

He turns to you, looking up through his lashes, feigning a faux innocence.

“So what d’ya say, princess?" He questions, quirking a brow at you. "Want me to kiss it better?” He asks with a deep grin, eyes amusedly awaiting your response.

You pause, not necessarily thinking about his offer but more so distracted by the way the sun reflects off of his eyes making them glow golden again.

He takes your pause as a yes, stepping into you, hands grabbing behind your ears, cradling your neck. He presses sloppy kisses all over your cheeks and up to your forehead, all while you protest through giggles. It’s sickeningly sweet. Truly sickening. You hate it.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“Why’d you ask my friends where I was yesterday, princess? Are you, like, obsessed with me?” Eddie mocks into your ear startling you.

“Oh no.” You groan to yourself, flashing Nancy a preemptive apologetic look.

“Princess, d’ya happen to have a lighter? Mine seems to have gone missing.” He says, moving on from his original remark, a mischievous smile playing on his lips.

“No, sorry. I don’t smoke, it’s a dirty habit.” You say flatly, keeping your focus on your lunch and Nancy sitting across from you.

“Oh, that’s crazy I could have sworn I saw you hanging out in the back of the school with some guy smoking earlier? I must have been mistaken.” He says, arm wrapping around your shoulder as he throws one leg over the cafeteria bench, straddling it.

“We weren’t ‘hanging out’.” You scoff.

“Right, right. I was groveling, my bad, princess.” He laughs.

You look up at Nancy and she’s shaking her head, lips pursed tightly, holding back her ‘I-told-you-so’ smile. Eddie doesn't typically bother you at lunch, so to Nancy, this very much looks like him 'getting worse'.

“Eddie, don't you have somewhere else to sit?” You say, shrugging his arm off your shoulder.

“What? Can’t come have lunch with my girl?” He teases, scooting closer to you, his knee pushing against your thigh, your shoulder practically resting against his chest.

“I just barely forgot about the stunt you pulled earlier, you’re pushing your luck, Munson.” You warn.

“Don’t call me that.” He says flatly.

“Munson? That’s your name, isn’t it?” You laugh.

“Nope, not to you it isn’t.” He replies flatly, grabbing a grape off your lunch tray before you can stop him.

“Is there a reason you’re here?” You say, his arrogance pinching at your agitation.

“Lighter.” He sings, eyes sparkling with amusement meeting yours, stealing another grape in the process. Turning his head, he focuses on Nancy. “Wheeler, how’s it going?”

“Good.” She laughs, still shaking her head.

“Heard you tattled on me to Princess.” He says, eyebrows raised, a smile playing on his face.

“Eddie, leave her alone.” You huff. You feel his hand raise up your back, settling slowly, before rubbing back and forth. He leans in closer to you, face brushing against your hair.

“Gotta share the attention sometimes, princess.” He whispers just loud enough for you to hear. His breath tickles the shell of your ear and you feel your heart rate pick up.

You sit up straighter, Eddie’s chin knocking into your shoulder as you reach into your front pants pocket.

“Lighter. There. Leave.” You say, finding his free hand to push it into his hold.

“Good girl.” He teases, quickly pulling you closer to him with a hand on your waist, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

You feel yourself burning hot and it takes everything in you not to hit him back with some sort of insult but you know if you do he’ll just stick around for longer.

He gets up from the bench with a coy wave of his fingers and a polite nod to Nancy, disappearing into the crowd of the lunch room.

“Nancy, if you say ‘I told you so’, I swear to god.” You say, holding back your smile as you watch your friend’s eyes burst with amusement.

“I wasn’t going to say I told you so!” She laughs.

“I can see it in your eyes Nancy, I know you’re dying to say it.” You reply.

“I won’t say it… but I will say that you’re blushing pretty hard right now.”

“Out of embarrassment! That was embarrassing, Nancy.”

“People aren’t usually that smiley after being embarrassed.”

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Eddie kept his eyes on the prize all night. Not in a creepy way, just to make sure you were okay… and because he just liked looking at you. You were making it awfully hard though, the way you kept disappearing between the groups of people occupying Harrington’s infamous Saturday night party.

His goal was to sell what he needed to sell, then he could have his fun. So when he sold his last eighth, his heart rate picked up as he bounded through the waves of people to find you.

He would be lying if he said he didn’t get a pang of nerves when he finally found you, all alone in the kitchen, getting yourself a drink.

Steve decided late Friday night that the party was on. He called you up and from there you called Nancy. It’s a practiced drill at this point, Steve calls a few people, who call a few more people, and the word gets around pretty quickly. Eddie got news that night, and it was a given he would sell. He always sells at Harrington parties, similar to how you’re always drinking at them.

“All your friends scurry off on you, Princess?” An all too familiar voice says right into your ear.

“No.” You say flatly, turning to see Eddie at your side.

“That’s funny, I only see you.” He says, eyes teasingly looking around you before settling back to meet your gaze.

“You should get your eyes checked, there’s like 20 other people in here.” You say, motioning to all the other bodies occupying the room.

“You know what I mean.” Eddie says, hip bumping yours gently as you pour from a bottle of something highly alcoholic into your cup.

“Do I?” You laugh before quickly shooting back your drink.

“Look at her, she’s a professional.” Eddie teases as you scrunch your face through the burning sensation in your throat, some of the liquid spilling down the corners of your lips from your overzealous tilt of the cup. Without as much as a second though, Eddie’s hand raises to you, wiping your chin dry.

“Why are you so nice now?” You ask, leaning closer to him so he can hear you over the music.

“I’m not.” He smiles, eyes leaving yours to watch as you set the empty cup down on the counter. He knows he’s lying, you both do.

“Is it because I sucked your dick?” You giggle.

You take another step closer to him where he leans against the counter. His eyes meet yours again with a mixture of amusement and shock looming on the surface of his gaze.

“You’re more drunk than you look, princess” He holds your gaze, amusement taking the reigns until his eyes lower to the short distance you’ve created between the two of you.

“I’m not drunk.” You scoff, rolling your eyes. Eddie watches you, you can tell he’s smiling and you’re not even looking at him.

“Where’s Wheeler gone? You were with her all night.” He asks, changing the subject. You turn your head, meeting his gaze, lifting your eyebrows as you decipher his question.

“You were watching me all night?” You ask teasingly, a smile playing on your lips.

“Princess.” He exhales, rolling his own eyes jokingly. The way his little nickname for you rolls off his tongue makes your already dizzy head spin.

“She went upstairs with Steve.” You answer, letting your hand rest on the counter, pinky brushing the material of his jeans where he leans against the marble countertop.

“I hope she’s not as drunk as you are.” He replies, eyes on your fingers as you continue to brush them against him. You shake your head. You could tell him that their rendezvous was premeditated, and a recurring pattern between the two, but you don’t want to talk about them.

“Aren’t you just the sweetest? First you took care of me when I was sick, now you’re looking out for my friends. Such a sweet boy.” You coo, leaning into Eddie, removing your hand from the countertop and placing it flat on his chest to stabilize yourself.

“Baby, I think you're too drunk, look at you being sweet.” He laughs and you dip your head, hiding the way his words affect you. You’re always ‘princess’, never ‘baby’. It makes your heart beat faster and your skin prickle.

You can’t help but notice how he doesn’t touch you though. He’s always poking and prodding at you in one way or another. Last time you saw him, he was all hands and kisses to your cheeks, but now, nothing.

“Did you make a lot of money tonight?” You ask, stepping in closer to him, your thigh pressing into his as you stand beside him.

“I did good enough.” He shrugs, arms staying closely to his sides and it almost makes you want to pout. He should be grabbing your hand or twirling your hair, doing what he always does.

“You were busy all night.” You mumble, your head down, watching as you kick at his shoe before stepping over it with one foot. Still leaning against the counter, he shifts, arms moving at his side and you almost get excited before you realize he's just crossing them over his chest. You lower your hand, sitting it closer to his hip as you move to stand directly in front of him.

“You were watching me all night?” He mocks, copying your same lilt.

“I set myself up for that one didn’t I?” You whisper, head down. He’s still not touching you.

“You did.” He replies, exhaling a laugh. You rest your other hand on his crossed arms, hoping he’ll get the hint but he doesn’t and you sigh, slouching into yourself.

“What’s wrong, princess?” He asks, quietly.

“You.” You reply flatly.

“Yeah, but you’re all pouty. You don’t pout. You scowl. Yell. Threaten violence.” He teases gently, dipping his face enough to meet your gaze.

“You’re not touching me.” You mumble, words so quiet you can barely hear them yourself over the blaring music.

“What was that, sweetheart?” Eddie asks, leaning his ear closer to you. You step in closer to him, pushing your way between his legs.

“I said, you’re not touching me.” You grumble, annoyed that you have to repeat yourself. Even more annoyed when he hears you and still doesn’t touch you. You huff, pushing your body flat against his, but he stops you, hands on your shoulders holding you away from him.

“Princess, I can’t. You’re drunk.” He says firmly, serious eyes meeting yours. Your knee shakes as you try to stop yourself from stomping your foot.

“You can. You just want to piss me off.” You say, funnelling all of your emotions and forcing them into a short lived anger.

“Trust me, that’s not why.” He says softly, thumbs rubbing gentle circles on your shoulders. You happily focus on his simple caresses on your bare skin, but the feeling it gives you just leaves you wanting more.

“You're touching me right now, Eddie. Just keep doing that.” You whine, giving him your best pout paired with doe-eyes. His gaze soften, eyes fluttering over your features.

“You’re trouble, you know that?” He says, flashing you a small smile.

“You like it though, that’s why you keep coming back.” You whisper. Eddie’s mouth pulls in a flat line and you think you might have said something wrong. His grip on your shoulders falls and you’re sure you did.

You’re sure you did until you feel his hands meet your waist, pulling you towards him. Your hands slip up his chest and around his neck and you hug yourself to him tightly. You absorb every ounce of him you can, every inebriated sense of yours captivated and buzzing with feelings and flutters. Even through the thump of the bass vibrating throughout the kitchen, you swear you hear his heart, or maybe it’s yours, either way it doesn’t matter because Eddie Munson is holding you just like you wanted him to.

“I was waiting for you to come find me.” You whisper into the skin peeking out of the collar of his shirt as you press your head to his shoulder.

In the bustling of the party, you stand chest to chest, arms wrapped around each other like this was the only way things were meant to be. He responds to you through the movement of his hands, rubbing up and down your back, touching you, just like you asked. Soothing you like you didn’t know he could.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“Eddie, you’re not doing it right, you’re supposed to just come in. I’m not supposed to have to ask you.” You whine.

“Princess, I can’t.” He says, smiling as you try to tug him through the front door of your house.

“You can, you did it before, remember?” You say, giving him your best pout.

“You were sick.” He says, amusement twinkling in his eyes as he stands firmly outside, your tugs not making him budge in the slightest.

“I'm going to be sick right now, if you don’t come inside.” You whine, punctuating your words with little stomps of your feet.

You may have taken a few more shots after Eddie broke up your hug earlier. You knew you had him at that point so maybe you took them just to spite him. It made sense at the time and as the night progressed, you were right. He was by your side the whole time, never more than an arm's length away. And when it was time to go home, you didn’t even have to ask, he was already offering you a ride and guiding you to his van.

“Princess, you’re killing me.” He says exasperatedly through a smile before stepping into the doorway.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“Jesus, just drink the water, princess.” Eddie laughs.

“I’ll do it if you lay down with me.” You say stubbornly. He shakes his head and you drop yourself down onto your pillow. “Please, Eddie. Please.” You plead, your eyes catching the dizzy image of him in the lowlight of your room.

“Drink the water and I’ll think about it.” He says sternly.

“Lay down and I’ll think about it.” You mock, copying his tone.

“You are so…” He laughs, trailing off.

“Good at giving blowjobs?” You giggle, filling in his sentiment. His gaze drops to the floor as he sits on the edge of your bed, shaking his head in disbelief of the moment.

“I was gonna say ‘impossible’.” He corrects with a laugh.

You furrow your brows. In attempts to prove him wrong you sit up, taking the water from him and silently finish it small swallow by small swallow until your belly feels impossibly full of water.

“Done.” You huff, falling back to your pillow dramatically.

“Good.” He says, hand patting your calf that’s sprawled against the comforter next to him.

“No. Good girl.” You say, correcting him through giggles. He squeezes your calf, before sitting up enough to put the glass down on your bedside table.

“Good girl.” He says to appease you, smirk heavy in his features.

“Was I good enough for you to lay down?” You ask, flashing him innocent eyes. He exhales deeply and even in your spinning state, you know he’s weighing his options. His eyes track the span of the bed before looking back at you, seriousness written across his features.

“No funny business.” He says firmly, making sure to make eye contact so you know he’s serious.

“No funny business.” You agree, nodding your head waiting for him to give in.

“Only for a few minutes. Sober you wouldn’t want me here.” He says, removing his jacket and tossing it to the floor.

“Yes she would.” You mumble with a pout but quickly get excited when Eddie starts shuffling to lay down. You prop yourself up ready to cozy into him but he stops you.

“Nuh-uh. On your side of the bed, princess.” He says, motioning for you to lay back down. You throw yourself to the mattress with a whined cry.

“You’re no fun.” You huff, whine building in your chest.

“I’m not here to have fun, princess. This is serious business.” He laughs.

You continue pouting on your side of the bed, turning enough to watch as Eddie settles into your mattress. His hair sprawls over your pillow, just like before, his throat bobbing as he swallows before turning his head to you.

“Go to sleep.” He says and your jaw drops. His lips curl into a smile, eyes dancing in amusement.

“You’re mean, you couldn’t even say goodnight? Just go to sleep?” You shrill, trying to focus your gaze on Eddie to get your glare across.

“Go to sleep.” He repeats, smirking as he reaches his arm to your bedside table, switching the light off, leaving you both in the low glow of the moonlight that sweeps in through your half open curtains.

“Eddie, I can’t unless you say it nicely.” You argue.

“Princess. Please go to sleep.” He says with teasing lilt.

“No.” You giggle.

“I said it nicely, c’mon princess.” He groans.

“Eddie.” You whine, hearing the annoyance in his voice.

“Princess.” He mocks.

You scan your eyes over him, the low light helping you find where his hand lays at his side. Quietly, you tiptoe your fingers across the mattress until you brush against his hand. Before you can close your grasp, he rips it away with a tut.

“Eddie, I held your hand when you wanted me to.” You whine.

“That was different.” He replies.

“No it wasn’t! Just hold my hand.” You say, pushing yourself up to try and grab his hand where it lies on his stomach now.

“Lay back down.” He laughs pulling himself further away from you. You drop yourself to the bed, your bottom lip quivering. It’s not for dramatics though, you know Eddie wouldn’t be able to see it.

“No. I’m tired of doing this, I just want you to hold my hand.” You whisper back. Eddie says some kind of teasing response but you ignore it, feeling too lost in the spinning of your head.

In your current state, you feel a lot of things. Most importantly, you’re confused. These nights usually end with Nancy and Steve. Eddie's existence would have never even crossed your mind, but now, all you want is to be close to him. It doesn’t help that he’s been making you practically beg for his attention all night. It might seem sudden, but it doesn’t come as a surprise to you when you feel your eyes grow wet. Your breathing starts to come out in harsh whines from your stomach that get caught in your throat.

When the first tear falls it feels catastrophic. It feels destructive, disastrous even. It feels like a break in your guard and you aren’t quick enough to catch it. There’s no snark left in the world that could patch this up right now. So you hide.

Pushing your face into your pillow, your tears free fall.

You feel shifting on the bed and you push your face further into the pillow.

“Are you crying?” Eddie asks softly, sounding closer to you now.

You don’t offer a response, your throat feels too tight to speak. You feel like you’re drowning in more than just tears.

“Princess, don’t cry.” He replies gently, all teasing gone from his voice. “I’ll hold your hand, here.” He finds your hand, taking it in his but it’s too late. The floodgates are open, set on their path of destruction, open to exposing damage.

His hand wraps around yours and you feel small. Not because of the size difference but because there’s a reason you don’t show these feelings. There’s a reason it’s easier for you to scowl and yell. This side feels too bare, too soft, too uncomfortable. It’s unfamiliar and scary. It feels like offering yourself up to impending disappointment. It feels like waiting for someone to pick you up and they don’t.

He pulls your hair, you pull his back. He stands you up, what can you do besides pretend it didn’t hurt?

You should yell, you should scold, you should threaten violence. You should tear your hand away, kick him out.

But you don’t. You couldn’t, not anymore. Not right now.

You just want Eddie, all games aside. You want him in the silence of the night, not through the bass of the music where one of you has to move left while the other moves right. You don’t want to dance the line of whatever this is anymore.

You pull his hand, willing him to come closer, a silent plea through your tears, and he does. He shifts closer until you're pressed to him, your intertwined hands hugged between your chests as his other hand wraps around you, resting against your back. He soothes you with quiet promises of everything being okay intermixed with his own apologies that only make you cry harder.

Maybe you’re not the whole reason that you two have ended up here, but you’re half of it, and it takes two to play this game. If you tap out, you’re half of the way to it being over.

If you walk away and he follows, isn’t that just the game changing again? A game of cat and mouse?

Maybe all these metaphors are stupid. Maybe they’re all a figment of your imagination that blossomed as a child from the first time he pulled your hair. Maybe you’re too old for these playground antics. Maybe you’re too old to not say how you feel.

“I was sad when you didn’t come to pick me up.” You whisper, your sob-filled secret sailing into the darkness of the room as if his chest wasn’t there to catch your secret.

Your words are as much for you as they are for him, you couldn’t admit your hurt before, but now you do.

Truth tastes soft in your mouth, not at all like the burn of alcohol you’ve drowned yourself in. It’s not sweet, it doesn’t fix everything, it just creates a storm in your belly. A fight between everything you know, everything you’ve done, and something new. It’s unnatural, it makes you feel sick.

“I know, princess. I’m sorry.” He whispers in return, his hand rubbing against your back. You imagine with every pass of his hand on your back he’s helping you fight the furries of the storm rising inside of you, but with the storm rising, there is nowhere else for these feelings to go but up.

“I don’t want you to say sorry, I just don’t want you to do it again.” You cry.

Your throat constricts as you feel bile rising.

“I won’t. I promise, okay?” He says softly. His words would have eased every metaphorical storm inside you, but this storm has turned literal, you’re about to vomit.

“Eddie, I'm gonna be sick.”

It’s a rush of limbs and a dash down the hall. Everything pours from you, every uncried tear, every burn, every furry, every roar of the storm. Everything you know, everything you’ve done, it all leaves you. And in its wake all you have left is Eddie’s hand rubbing your back, telling you it’s okay. It’s soft and unnatural but you let it absorb you entirely. It burrows into you, finding a place you never knew existed, a place where softness thrives and doesn’t need to be hidden by the guise of anger and indifference.

Eddie brings you back to your bed and in the silence of the night, apologies and promises lay side by side, holding hands.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction

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f6bron · 4 months

Text

delicate lilac.

pairing : badboy!iso x soft!gn!reader

notes : bad boy x sunshine trope, mutual-pining but both of them are unaware of it, potential friends to lovers, fluff fluff fluff >.<

The campus buzzed with energy as students hurriedly moved from one class to another. Among the sea of people, Li Zhao Yu, also known as Iso, stood out—an enigmatic figure with a formidable reputation that sent shivers through many.

Yet, beneath the intimidating facade, a softer side existed, one that only revealed itself in the presence of one person.

And that's you, Y/N L/N.

As the two of you and your friends strolled through the campus, Iso couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy bubbling within him as he watched you interact with your friends. Laughter filled the air, and Iso's eyes followed the movement of your lips as you spoke animatedly.

Your plump cherry lips, soft skin, and the way the sun highlighted your features. He longed for the day he could receive a similar treatment from you.

"Must be nice," he thought, unconsciously fiddling with the rings on his fingers.

"Iso?" you called, snapping him back to reality.

Stammering, caught off guard by your sudden attention, he replied, "Y-yeah?"

You let out a tiny giggle, a sound that made warmth creep up onto Iso's face. "What were you daydreamin' about?"

"Oh, nothing. I… I was just thinking about–" Iso fumbled over his words, nervousness taking over. Are you being for real, Iso?! This is not you!

Before he could realize it, you slipped a piece of candy into his rough and calloused hands—a stark contrast between your soft and delicate hands and his rugged ones.

"Huh?" he questioned, giving you a puzzled look.

"You said you wanted a strawberry-flavoured candy," you reminded him, a soft smile playing on your lips.

Iso could feel warmth engulfing his heart, not expecting you to remember the tiny details he mentioned during the casual conversation you guys had on your way to class.

"Don't tell anyone, but… I kinda stole it from Jett."

"Really… for me?" Iso asked, his eyebrows raised.

"Yeah! For you!" you replied, causing Iso to chuckle. Butterflies fluttered in his stomach.

"Thanks…"

"All right, lovebirds! Enough of that," Phoenix interjected from behind, placing his hands on both Iso's and your shoulders. "We gotta get movin'."

"We're not—"

"Whatever," Phoenix shrugged, cutting Iso off.

"See you at the cafeteria later." he said, winking at you before leaving. Iso sent a harsh glare to Phoenix, the audacity for him to wink at you.

He hesitated for a moment before saying, "Take care, Y/N. Text me after you're done with your classes, okay?"

Iso sighed internally, wishing he could be there for you 24/7.

You nodded shyly before joining the rest of your friends to head to class. "Mhm… you too."

Even though Iso is a notorious class-skipper, up to everyone's surprise, he has been showing up to lectures lately. It's all because he couldn't resist the charm of Y/N's pout.

The thought of being the cause of that disappointed expression wrecks his heart a bit. He would trade his soul if it means seeing that cute smile of yours, and to get complimented by you.

Iso caught up and walked alongside Phoenix, still holding the strawberry-flavored candy you gave him earlier. Phoenix shot him a knowing look. "If you're gonna play pretend, just give up."

"Huh?"

"Are you being for real, lad?" Phoenix nudged Iso's shoulder. "You never look so ‘down bad’ over a person." Iso sighed, finally getting the point.

"Is it too obvious?" Iso replied, popping the candy into his mouth effortlessly.

"Yeah, too obvious. ‘Saw how a love shape starts forming in your eyes as soon as Y/N appears in your sight." Phoenix teased, smirking.

Iso chuckled, the image of adorable you started playing in his mind. Not like you’ll ever leave it anyway.

"Come on, man. You can't blame me. Y/N is too cute to resist."

(A/N): THIS LOOKS RUSHED IM SORRY anyways im thinking of turning badboy!iso into a series but we'll see...

masterlist.

#— rumi drabbles . . .#f6bron #li zhao yu #iso x reader #valorant iso x reader #valorant fanfiction #valorant imagines #valorant headcanons #iso x y/n

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gentaro-kinniecom · 11 months

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༻Zipping up a dress/shirt trope (unit leaders + Wataru)༺

Characters: Madara Mikejima, Rei Sakuma, Wataru Hibiki, Keito Hasumi, Rinne Amagi, Shu Itsuki, Chiaki Morisawa, Nagisa Ran, Natsume Sakasaki and Eichi Tenshouin

Cw: suggestive, tbh just detailed backstories (in some cases) before the actual trope of the characters helping reader with their zipper, maybe ooc characters(?), wataru and rinne doing the opposite of this post, (long post 😭) Malice Mizer reference goes hard in Shu’s part 🤭, almost forgot to tag Natsume’s pet name for the reader (kitten) as a warning help-

A/n: hi guys! Sorry for the long break i had on tumblr 😭 kinda lost motivation to post but i’ll try to keep doing this throughout summer vacations now that i have time for it so..yeah! The making out + hcs posts will continue and there’s about 4 left ;i have also received some requests so stay tuned!! (Edit) I FORGOT WATARU ISNT A UNIT LEADER HELP MEEE i mean theres the Träumerei temporary unit in which he was the leader of but still 😭

"Hey babe, can you help me out with this zipper? I can't seem to reach it"

Madara Mikejima

One to always refuse taking you to his ‘missions’. Obviously, he knows some of these missions could cost his life, and taking you to one and for something to possibly happen to you, makes his heart shatter. But, tonight was his lucky day, your 2nd aniversary. Madara had booked a reservation in one of your favorite places. He entered the room with his usual smile, holding your waist before zipping your outfit, kissing your neck

“It looks good, though I think it’d look better on my floor”

Rei Sakuma

You were both running a tad early to one of his concerts in the city, but of course, getting there is all it matters. As soon as he heard you, he went to the other room of his dressing room, lets say a complementary room for it, but anyways; his smile was the highlight of your day, he didn’t mind helping you out, after all, Rei loved it when you trust him in simple things like this. When he finished, he quickly gave you a kiss before speaking

“I’ll always be here whenever you need me to”

Wataru Hibiki

He’s very helpful, well, at most times. He likes to be playful mostly when you need help, in cases were it wasn’t serious, but in this one, he simply smiled as he went towards you and started unzipping the dress

“Uh Wataru? I said i needed help with zipping it..not..the opposite..”

Wataru simply laughed and zipped it, letting you admire yourself for a bit as he wrapped his arms around you

“I couldn’t resist~! You’re just so perfect, I prefer seeing you without it. Your body is a masterpiece, I can’t help but admire it”

Keito Hasumi

He simply goes towards you and helps you out. He’s really not interested in anything else so your attempts to “seduce” him are not going to work so easily. Keito is a very reserved man and doesn’t get bothered at ‘insignificant things’, or does he? This time however, as he made his way towards you, your outfit caught him off guard, it was the one you had worn during your first date after being together for 3 years, he felt himself tear up as he looked at you

“You always look so beautiful in whatever you choose, even without it, your beauty never ceases to amaze me”

Rinne Amagi

Somewhat similar to Wataru’s except…well he’s Rinne, what do you expect? He had suggested a date for all his hard work with Crazy B and the tough week they’ve had, of course, he reserved a decent restaurant down the street, nothing too formal, but still enough to impress. While you were having trouble with the zipper of your clothes, he decided to approach you after your “cry for help” which was just a simple statement for assistance, as Rinne entered the room, he whistled, checking you out and hastily unzipping your outfit

“Rinne..! I said i needed help zipping it, not unzipping and taking it off my body..”

He all but chuckled as he turned you around

“Who said anything about going out? Actually, i might cancel or we do have a bit of time before it, no? I seriously cannot resist you a minute longer, c’mon~! Let’s have some fun, okay?”

Shu Itsuki

He’s used to helping you get into anything he crafts, whether its a dress or a shirt he made thinking about you, he’s used to helping you put your outfits on if they require assistance. This was one of those days where Shu had finished another beautiful creation of his and decided to lend you a hand, zipping it carefully and taking one look in the mirror as he saw you admire yourself once more

“It’s absolutely perfect, you’re perfect. I feel honored having you wear the artworks I’ve created for you..ma chérie”

Chiaki Morisawa

He’s so sweet and helps you even when you don’t require any assistance, he’s just like that. A charming and caring boyfriend like Chiaki always makes sure you’re well, in every aspect. So it’s not rare for him to help you always, this time, when he heard you, he was just around the corner, rushing softly to your shared room and smiling as he saw the outfit, it was one of his favorites. Chiaki placed his hands on your shoulders after helping you out and spoke

“Look! We match! Isn’t that cute? We should get going for our date before it gets late!”

Nagisa Ran

Used to formal attire that requires assistance, especially from their loving partner who Nagisa loves seeing them in such outfits; like today. Nagisa had a rather important event with Eden, and he was allowed to bring a plus one, like usual, and of course he always brings his partner to these. After hearing your call for assistance, Ran didn’t hesitate to go to your shared room, taking in the beautiful outfit you wore as he smiled brightly

“Of course my dear, anything you need me to do..I’ll help you. How about we go for dinner after the event? I’ll make sure to reserve us a nice table ahead”

Natsume Sakasaki

Even though he’s somewhat always focused on his potions and magic stuff, and his unit, Switch on top of that, Natsume cherishes every moment of your relationship to the max, although he would never admit that out loud that is. You’re his comfort zone, his one person to go to whenever he’s feeling down, happy, or anything out of the ordinary. However, it’s not usual for you to request his help, when he entered your room, his flirtatious persona became into a nervous one, the outfit you wore was absolutely stunning, accentuating your features and leaving him breathless. He tried keeping his calm and helped you, thats what he came for after all right?

“Natsume are you alright? You look a bit red..”

He smiled, nodding as he rested a hand on your waist, sighing happily before speaking

“Of course kitten, why wouldn’t I be? It’s nice to see you getting arranged for our date today”

Eichi Tenshouin

Being heir to a very prosperous family and head of the student council had its moments where Eichi was overloaded with tons of responsibility and work. Sometimes getting very sick due to his condition, and he’s glad to have met someone like you to complement his life so positivity. Events like family dinners or special events in general are usual to him, especially with helping you put on one of the many outfits he had bought you for dates or anniversary gifts, even birthday ones. Today was like those other days where you would have romantic dinners or went to an important event. Eichi smiled as he entered his room, watching you struggle a bit with the outfit he had bought you, without thinking twice, he approached you softly, his hands on your back, zipping the outfit slowly. After he was done, Eichi smiled, a genuine one for the first time in a while, as he spoke

“I’m glad to see you ready, shall we get going?”

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wh0refornikolailantsov · 11 months

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hiii! maybe one bed trope with Nikolai??? please!!

Don't mind if I do...

One Bed - Nikolai Lantsov

Content Warnings: Suggestive Content. Not Beta/Proof Read.

Nikolai Taglist: @hauntedenthusiasttragedy , @writingmysanity

You stare at Nikolai, arms crossed, an unimpressed look on your face and Nikolai tries not to smirk. "You didn't feel like mentioning this aspect of it all?" you ask, gesturing to the room. He shrugs.

"I said we would be having to pose as a husband and wife for this," he reminds you. "Mrs Sturmhond."

"So you did know this was going to happen," you state looking at the one bed in the room you've been given to share.

"I knew it was a possibility," he says, unable to keep the laughter from his voice.

"You are a scoundrel," you tease him, giving him a gentle shove.

"Come on," he gives you a smirk, and you want to do anything to keep him looking at you, "it could be worse."

"Could it now, pray tell," you joke.

"I could have sent Tolya to pretend with you," he offers, "he snores."

"Yes but at least Tolya is immune to my charm," you say.

"Oh is that what worries you love?" he asks. You give him the most convincing laugh you can.

"Not at all Captain," you say, "because you're sleeping on the floor."

"I am your Captain," he reminds you. "Besides if you cannot resist me just tell me as much and I will respect you conceding."

"You wish," you say, not meeting his eye. The look drops from that of a jokester to a more smug look, the longer you won't meet his eye.

"Oh, that really is the reason isn't it darling?" he asks.

"Stop talking," you tell him. "Or I will make you sleep on the floor."

You lay staring at the ceiling, trying desperately to think about anything else, literally any other thing than Nikolai beside you. You can feel the weight of his breathing, the heat of his skin radiating between you. You feel like you're going crazy.

"Love," he says, his voice heavy with sleep. "If you are getting this restless I can-,"

"It's fine," you say. "I just cannot get comfortable."

"Okay," he mumbles, rolling over and snaking an arm around your torso, pulling you closer to him, embracing you in the warmth and sleep. Your breath hitches and you feel yourself freezing up and he pulls his arm away instantly. "Sorry, I didn't mean to-,"

"No," you reassure him, "it's fine. It's nice... I just wasn't expecting it."

"May I?" he whispers against your ear, you give a small nod and he returns to holding you. You can feel his heart beating against your back, the gentle exhales of breath against your skin.

"Nikolai?" you whisper into the darkness.

"Yes?"

"You fidgeting," you tell him, feeling the gentle taps of his fingers against the skin above your hip, a soft repeated pattern, soothing in its own right, but right now, with him, you feel like it is setting your skin on fire.

"Am I?" he asks.

"If you keep doing that, I can't promise I'll behave," you say honestly. His hand doesn't still, but you feel him chuckle. You realise he thinks you're joking. "Kolya," you say, voice coming out more sultry than you meant it to, but it wakes him from his sleepy state with a jolt. You turn your head to meet his eyes, a look of seriousness in them.

"Do you want me to stop?" he asks, a grin threatening to break his poise.

"No," you admit, rolling over to face him, "but I wouldn't advice you continue."

"Why is that?" he asks, nudging closer.

"Because we are in someone else's bed," you remind him. He chuckles.

"Fair point."

The sunlight flits in and the bright orange strips of light catch the dust floating, bringing you back to your consciousness. Nikolai's arms are still wrapped tightly around you, and his hair is all dishevelled with small wisps betraying the natural direction of his hair. You cannot help but smile at how soft he looks, and you gently correct some of the stray tendrils. A quiet laugh breaks through Nikolai's tired smile. "You okay there love?" he asks, not opening his eyes.

"Why do you call me that?" you ask, and his hand finds yours, lacing his fingers between yours.

"Because I like the way you blush when I do," he admits. You know his smugness is half of his charm but right now you want to shove him.

"We need to get up, they will be expecting us," you remind him. He shrugs slightly.

"I mean they think we are newly weds, they'd probably expect us to be a little late," he teases, running his thumb gently under your chin.

"Get up," you tell him, slipping out of bed. He watches you, sitting up.

"Why would I want to get up when I could stay right here, with you giving me that look?" he asks, crossing his arms over the bedsheet.

"Because if you get up, and we get those over with, I might just let you finish what you started," you say. And you're sure you've never seen Nikolai move so quickly.

"What are you waiting for love?" he asks buttoning up his shirt. "I am sure they're expecting us."

#shadow and bone #grishaverse #nikolai lantsov fanfic #nikolai x reader #nikolai lanstov x reader #nikolai lantsov #nikolai x you #sturmhond x reader #sturmhond x you #sturmhond

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cmncisspnandmore · 5 months

Text

One Night Stand; Part 3

Pairings: Simon 'Ghost' Riley X Reader

Warnings: OOC Simon (kinda?), fluff, alcohol, pregancy, talks of abortion, vomiting,

Summary: Its been 3 months since your night in the sheets with Simon and your life just got a whole lot more complicated.

A/N: I know, I know. okay. I get it. Not everyone like the pregnancy trope, so if you dont im sorry. If i lose some readers for this then im sad to see you go but i hope to see you in future writings i do for the COD men. This is not going to be like other pregnancy tropes that get all mushy and fluffy and light after. This story will be filled with dark themes coming in later chapters that i hope will keep people interseted. We all know Simon Riley's life cant be easy, so if you're still here after this part. Buckle up. Its a wild ride.

Word Count: 5,015

New to the Series? Catch up here: Part 1, Part 2

The bar looked exactly the same as it did three months ago. The music wasn't as loud, but that was probably because it was still early. Many people were still at work at 5pm on a Thursday.

Not you, you had found a job working online, writing articles for business pages. It wasn't the most exciting thing in the world but it paid well, and it occupied most of your time. An added bonus of not leaving for work was you never had to worry about coming home from the office to find someone on your couch. You shake your head trying to clear the thoughts. You weren't even 100% sure why you were here, the chances that Soap even knew Simon were slim. But he had said he knew almost everyone that came to the bar.

So there was a chance.

One you couldn't pass up, you had to at least try.

Wrapping your coat around you tighter, you walk into the bar. The dim lights reflect off the shiny tables. A few people sit at them, watching a replay of a game on tv. You glance around behind the bar, looking for the familiar mohawk.

It pops up from behind the bar towards the end, Soap holds a bin of limes in his arms. He sets the bin down on the shiny black countertop, pulling a small cutting board out from the top of the bin and a knife. He slices a lime in half as you slide into the seat in front of him. His blue eyes meet yours and a smile breaks out on his face.

“Lass! Good to see ya, you disappeared on me the last time ye were here!” He smiles, turning the lime and cutting it again.

“Sorry about that, I needed to clear my head, I hope I didn't upset you,” you smile back, placing your hands on the bar.

“Nay, what can I get for ye? Vodka Soda?” he asks, setting the knife down as he turns towards the shelves of alcohol behind him.

“Uh, actually, can I just have water instead?” You bite your bottom lip and Soap nods, grabbing a glass and filling it. He slides the glass of water in front of you, and you stare down into it.

“Everything okay?” he asks, looking at you with one raised eyebrow.

“Oh yeah, I'm fine. Early day tomorrow ya know? Don't want to be hung over is all.”

“Aye i get that, so what brings you here?” Soap leans his forearms against the bar, “Miss me?” He smiles.

You can't help but roll your eyes, “Oh totally,” you laugh.

“I knew it, not many women can resist the MacTavish charm,” Soap grins, he stands back up and picks up the knife. He cuts each lime into wedges before putting them in the bin, you reach over grabbing one from the cutting board and squeeze it into your water.

“Aye! Paw off,” Soap smiles, shaking the knife at you. A smile of your own breaks out on your lips as you watch him.

“You have plenty to spare, plus someone around here has to keep you busy.”

“I assure you Lass, the folk around here keep me plenty busy,” Soap points over your shoulder where Price and Gaz are walking in. They’re deep in a conversation as they make their way over to where you are sitting in front of Soap.

Kyle is the first to notice you, and he pauses looking at you over. “Y/n, it's good to see you again, not going to lie. I was kinda sad you left without a goodbye last time,” Gaz takes the seat on the left.

“Sorry about that, I promise to say bye this time. I don’t want to bruise your ego,” You say over the rim of your glass.

“Good, I don't think I can hear him wallow about it anymore,” Price says as he sits in the stool on your right. “So what do you think of London? Everything you could’ve imagined?”

“It’s alright… It rains a lot more than I'm used to, but it's not too bad. Definitely different from the small town I'm from,” you look over at him. He gives you a small smile, and turns towards Soap.

“Soap, we ship out tomorrow morning, be ready at 0600 hours,” Price grunts as Soap puts the last lime into the bin.

“Yes sir,” Soap turns towards the bottles of liquor on the shelf and grabs a bottle of bourbon. He sets it down on the counter with a soft thud, he then grabs two glasses for them, pouring each man two fingers. He slides the glasses across the bar to them, the acidic smell of the bourbon makes your stomach turn. Saliva pools in your mouth as you desperately try to swallow.

“Oh uh, Soap, I wanted to ask if you knew someone actually,” You take a sip of water, your eyes following him as he moves behind the bar. Soaps bright blue eyes look over at you, his brows furrowed together.

“I might,” he smiles. A loud noise from behind you startles you, and a drunken man tumbles into the back of your stool. His drink spilling down your back as he leans against the back of the barstool, the smell of the alcohol hits your nose.

“Oops,” the drunken man mumbles, his breath wafting over your face.

Your stomach rolls, as Price and Gaz help the man up. Gaz and Price half drag him away from you as he continues to mumble about his drink. Gaz says something and pats him on the chest as they pull him to the door. You stand from the chair, the fabric of your coat and shirt now sticking to you. Nausea rolls through you as you try to breathe through your mouth.

“You alright lass? You look a little green,” Soap is now standing in front of you, a clean bar towel in his hands. He gently pats the towel against your soaked shirt and coat trying to soak up some of the liquid that's seeping into your skin.

You can't answer, if you open your mouth you’re sure you’ll throw up so you push past Soap and hurry towards the bathroom. Soap follows behind you, pausing at the door to the women's room. You shove open one of the stall doors and drop to your knees. The cold tiles bite through the fabric of your jeans, as the contents of your stomach is emptied into the porcelain bowl. It takes you several minutes to stop dry heaving, your stomach clenching painfully with each contraction of your abs. When the feeling settles you stand, before rinsing your mouth out with some water from the tap. You grab a paper towel, wiping your hands and mouth.

“You alright in there?” Soap calls through the door, his voice laced with concern.

“Yeah..” you call back, tossing the paper towel into the bin and pulling open the door, “Sorry about that.” You shove your hands into your pockets as you come face to face with Soap. His eyebrows knit together in worry as he looks over you, one hand hovers in the air as if hes going back and forth on if he should touch you or not.

“You su-” he pauses looking over your shoulder, his eyes widened slightly.

“MacTavish, the bar can't run itself…” A familiar voice rumbles, the hair on the back of your neck stands on end. Memories of your night 3 months ago rushes back, that same voice that murmured praise to you as he pounded into you.

You whip around, at the end of the hall stands Simon, his black hoodie pulled up over his head, his mouth and nose covered by a skull print face mask. His brown eyes widen slightly as he sees you. “Y/n…” he whispers.

“You two know each other?” Soap muses from behind me, his hands coming to rest on my shoulder as he walks by. An uncomfortable silence settles over the hallway and Soap slips by, muttering “I’ll leave you two alone…”

Simon takes a few steps towards you, and it seems like he takes up the whole hallway. You look up as he towers over you, his face is unreadable, he lifts a hand, brushing his fingertips across your cheek. It sends electricity skittering across your skin, your breath catches in your throat.

Over the past 3 months you have tried to forget about the man whose brown eyes haunted your dreams. Whose touch caused your mind to go blank. Like someone wiping a harddrive. But there was no forgetting, not anymore. He was here in front of you, sure, you had come to ask Soap if he knew him. But you hadn't expected to run into him tonight. You still had no idea what you were going to say to him. How do you justify just leaving his house at 3am?

“You could've said goodbye, you know… You didn't have to sneak out and call an Uber at 3am..” Simon whispers, and guilt slams into you. He knew you left. He wasn't asleep like you thought…

“I-I..” you stumble over your words, unsure what to say. There wasn't anything you could say really. You knew you should’ve just waited, dealt with the awkward small talk. Maybe even exchange numbers you would never plan on using. But nope.

Instead you fled. Just like you fled after your sister's funeral.

At least you were consistent.

“I’m not upset, I understand.” Simon adds after a moment, his hands shoved deep in his pockets of his hoodie.

“Simon.. I.. I’m sorry.. I’ve been going through a lot. And i didnt .. I couldn't face you after that. Not, not that you did anything wrong. Because you didn't! I mean you were great. I just,” You run a hand through your hair. “God, this is not how I wanted this to go.”

“Breathe. Love, breathe.” Simons hands cup your face and you freeze. “It’s okay, like I said I'm not upset with you,” he lets his hands drop, and you nod.

“I didn't know you knew Soap,” He muses, leaning against the wall. You shuffle your feet, taking a deep breath.

“Yeah… I met him the same night I met you… You know him too, yeah?”

“Soap, Gaz, Price and I all serve together,” Simon rubs the back of his neck with his hand, looking slightly uncomfortable.

“Oh! I don't know how I didn't pick up that you were military,” You bite your lip looking down at his black boots.

“We didn't exactly get to know each other very much that night..” Simon says, and a small blush creeps up your cheeks at the mention of your night together. “So what brings you here tonight?” Simon asks.

The familiar feeling of nausea swirls in your stomach again, you clench your fists, nails biting into your palm. Something you have come to do a lot over the past few months. “I came here to ask about you, actually. I needed to talk to you..” You whisper, and Simon's brows furrow.

“Well you found me.. What did you need to talk about?” He asks, as you chew your bottom lip. Anxiety creeps into your chest, wrapping itself around your lungs like an icy hand. The air rushes from your lungs, your eyes burning with tears.

How the hell could you turn this man's life upside down?

“Hey, hey,” Simon whispers, his large hands clasp your shoulders steadying you. The world feels a million miles away, like you were floating out in space untethered. Everything sounds muffled, and the lights are suddenly too bright in the hallway. You raise your shaky hands, running them through your hair. A large hand guides you down the hall a little until the bitter cold air of winter in London hits you. You gasp, your lungs filling with the cold air, goosebumps break out along your heated skin.

The world slowly comes back into focus, soft murmuring in your ear as large arms wrap around your middle holding you against a solid chest. “Breathe, you’re alright, you’re okay… Just breathe, Love.” Simon murmurs into your ear. Tears fall from your eyes, trails of hot tears stream down your cold cheeks.

“I’m sorry I left that night…” you gasp in between sobs, “and i am so sorry im going to say this…” You whisper the last part. At first you aren't sure Simon heard you but after a moment he turns you around. His arms are still around you as he looks down at you, your teeth starting to chatter from emotion and the wind.

“Whatever you have to say can't be that bad, love. Did you find out you had some like STI or something? Do I need to get tested?” He asks, his brown eyes searching your tear stained face. His hands moving up and down your body in an attempt to warm you up and comfort you at the same time.

You shake your head, if only an STI was the least of your problems. “N-no, i didn't give you anything like that…” you choke out.

Simon watches you as you stand face to face with him in the same alley you met him in 3 months ago. Although this time you’re different, instead of the woman who was caught in her own head. Who was running from demons he couldn't see, trying her best to show the world it couldn't break her. Instead standing in front of him was a woman who was scared, who looked so lost in the world, like she was barely hanging on. He studies you, even as you stand in front of him crying, your entire body shaking. You were still beautiful, and he would be lying if he said he didn't think about you.

You had haunted him every moment since he heard you leave the apartment. When he heard the door click shut it took everything in him not to follow you out. But he didn’t, he laid there staring up at the ceiling until almost 5, before he got up and started making himself some tea. It was then he noticed the note you left your swirling handwriting on the scarp paper wishing him well. He was saddened to see you hadn’t left a way to contact you, but part of him understood. He had offered you a chance to get out of your head for a while. He hadn’t asked you on a date. He DIDN'T date.

The onslaught of disappointment was tough for him to swallow. Simon was never upset when a woman he brought to bed left with no goodbye, and a hasty note. Simon preferred it that way, it was better if the one night stands didn’t stick around but for some reason Simon couldn’t stop thinking about you. About how your curves felt beneath his palms. The silky smooth expanse of your skin. The way your moans stirred something deep in him, or the way your eyes told him more than you ever would.

Now as he looked down at you, standing in the darkened alley way. He knew whatever you wanted to say was about to bring his world crashing down. But instead of the overwhelming feeling to flee, that he normally had when confronting emotional issues like this. Simon wanted to hold you close and tell you that it was okay, that whatever it was you could face it and make it out the other side. During his years of doing interrogations and studying people he had learnt the signs of when someone was teetering on the edge. It was clear in your face and body language that you were one gentle gust of wind from toppling over. Crumbling into pieces he wasn’t sure anyone could put back together.

“What is it then Sweetheart? I’ll help you figure it out, whatever it is.” He whispers, pulling you closer to him, his body heat seeping into you, as the wind blows. You sniffle, your shaking hands coming up to swipe at the tears under your eyes. You take one last breath, eyes closed as you brace yourself.

“I’m pregnant.”

It’s like the world stopped spinning.

Time was suddenly suspended, as you pried your eyes open to look at Simon. His brown eyes were guarded. His brows pulled together, as his hands stopped their motions for a fraction of a second. Your lungs burned from holding your breath, your throat tight. Every muscle in your body was tense, as you waited for him to say something. Do something. You needed some sort of reaction from him. Yelling, screaming, swearing, anything was better than the earth shattering silence that took place after you muttered the two words you hadn’t yet said out loud since you found out.

It wasn’t like you planned on getting pregnant by your one night stand. Hell. It was the LAST thing you wanted. You were always careful to get your birth control shot every 3 months. But with the chaos of the last few months, somewhere along the line you must’ve missed your last appointment. It wasn’t until you went into your appointment earlier today to get a shot that they had informed you they couldn’t administer it. That you were already pregnant.

“Okay.”

The word shocks you, and for a moment you aren’t sure you hear him right. You raise an eyebrow, as you look at Simon.

“Okay?” You ask.

“Yeah, okay. We’ll figure it out.” Simon states, his hands resuming their soothing motion up and down your sides.

“You’re not.. not going to freak out?” You whisper.

“There’s nothing to freak out about, this isn’t just going to go away. So we need to talk about our options, and we will. Just got standing in the back alley of a pub.”

“Okay…” you whisper, as Simon’s hands guide you towards the emergency exit door that he brought you through. The inside of the bar is louder than before, more people have shown up. Soap, Gaz and Price are all talking at the end of the bar. Your glass of water is filled and sitting on a napkin. They all look over when you two walk over.

“Ghost, Soap was just telling me that you and y/n know each other. Small world isn’t it?” Gaz smiles, his brown eyes looking between us.

“We do,” Simon turns to Price, “I’m going to be bringing her home, I’ll see you at 0600 tomorrow, Captain.”

There’s a look that passes between Price and Simon, but he just nods, then turns towards you. “I hope to see you again, dear, maybe next time we can all have a nice meal.”

“Maybe,” you smile, after waving goodbye to Soap and Gaz, Simon leads you out to the street where the cars are parked.

“Did you drive here?” He asks, looking down at you.

“No I took the bus,” you shove your hands into the pockets of your coat. It was still wet from where the guy spilt his drink, and you shivered.

“I’ll drive you home,” Simon takes your hand, pulling you towards his truck. He pulls open the passenger door and waits for you to get settled in the seat before shutting it. You run your hands together as Simon climbs into the driver's seat. He starts the truck, turning the heat on high.

“Where do you live?” He asks, as he turns on the headlights.

“On Ashton street, the apartment complex there” from the corner of your eye you see Simon visibly stiffened, but he doesn’t say anything as he pulls away from the curb. The ride is mainly quiet, neither one of you having much to say. As you get closer to your apartment your anxiety starts to grow again. What if he tells you to get rid of it?

Is that what you wanted? What if he decided he would rather give it up for adoption? Would he help you find a family? Maybe he would tell you he didn’t want anything to do with a baby? Could you deal with a baby? Bile burns in the back of your throat, and you try to swallow it back down. You weren’t about to throw up all over his nice truck. The grimy bathroom of a bar was one thing, but Simon’s leather interior of his car was not an option. Simon turns down a side street, there weren’t many streetlights on this stretch of the drive. You try to focus on the passing shadows but the rolling and twisting in you hug doesn’t let up.

“Can you pull over please?” You whisper, and Simon glances at you. Your hands bunched in the fabric of your coat, your eyes closed as you take deep breaths. Simon eases the car over, barely putting the car in park before you flung the door open and hop out. You move a few feet into the woods, your hands scraping against the tough bark of a tree, as you get sick. Bile burns your throat and nose, tears stream down your cheeks.

Warm hands gather the hair from your face and hold it back. Holding your hair back with one hand the other rubs up and down your back. It takes several minutes of dry heaving for you to be able to stand up. A handkerchief is suddenly floating in front of you. You take it and wipe your mouth with it, shoving it into your pocket after.

“You okay?” Simon asks, as you take a deep breath.

“Yeah, I’m okay, sorry..” you mumble, as you turn back to the car and climb back in. Simon doesn’t say anything as he climbs in and continues to drive to your apartment. As he parks his car, he glances around, his eyes resting on the boarded up windows of the glass door.

“Everything okay?” You ask, noticing as he stares at the glass like he’s trying to get it to tell him what happened to it.

“Yeah. Sorry, let’s go inside,” he mumbles, climbing out and coming to your side. He pulls open your door and offers you a hand. You walk towards the building Simon’s entire body is tense as some residents barrel out of the door. They’re shouting and swearing as they stumble out, a lit cigarette dangling from their fingers. Simon pushes you behind him, as they pass, he watches as they head over to a parked car and continue arguing in front of it.

“They’ll stop arguing after a while. They do this often..” you mutter to Simon as you take his hand pulling him towards the door. He grunts and follows you up the three flights of stairs to your apartment. You hesitate, your hand on the knob as you take a deep breath. Entering was always the hardest part now, every time your hand touches the handle the images of your family break through the mental box you shoved them into. You let out the breath you were holding and pushed open the door. Flicking on the light switch next to the door.

Your eyes falling on the empty couch against the far wall in the living room. Some of the tension leaves your shoulders as you stare at the threadbare fabric. You step further into the apartment allowing Simon to slip in behind you. He turns the locks on the door, and reaches down unlacing his boots.

“I don't have much to offer.. Is water okay?” You ask as you shrug off your alcohol stained coat. The fabric is a sticky mess, the fabric ruined from the drink spilt on it at the bar. Tossing it onto the counter, you head over to the cabinet and take down two glasses.

“Water is okay,” Simon walks into your living room and takes a seat. He watches you fill the two glasses with water and you come and sit on the other side of the couch, handing him the glass.

“When did you find out?” Simons asks, taking his face mask off and shoving it into his pocket and taking a sip of water.

“This afternoon… I went in to get my birth control shot and they make you do a pregnancy test…” You pull your legs up to your chest, holding the glass of water in one hand. The other hand wraps around your shins keeping them pulled up to your chest.

“Did they tell you how far along you are?” He asks, “So we know what our options are, I mean.”

“They said based on the blood work, 12 weeks. But I have to go in to get an ultrasound next week..”

“Okay, so we don't have a lot of time to make a choice… have you thought about what you want to do?” Simon sets his glass down on the table next to the couch.

“I .. I don't know.. I was waiting to hear what you had to say before I made up my mind.” You mumble, your eyes trained on a spot of carpet that is fraying.

“If I'm being honest, I never wanted kids. They were never in my cards… I'm not saying I don't like them, kids are great, I just never pictured myself having any,,” he admits.

Your heart sinks.

Here we go, he's going to tell you to get rid of it, and tell you to delete his number, forget he exists and move on with your life.

“But, with you, it feels right.. There's just something about you that I can't get out of my head and at the risk of sounding like a total barbarian. The thought of having you in my life until I die because of this baby fills me with excitement. I wanted to go after you when you snuck out of my apartment but I didn't want you to be uncomfortable. The night I spent with you was one of the best nights I've ever had. So if you would like to, I would love the chance to raise this baby with you. Even if it's as friends and nothing more. Because I know that you were put into my life for a reason, and I'm going to take any chance I can get to keep you around,” Simon finishes, his hand coming to rest on your ankle.

You sit there for a few moments, mind reeling with everything he just said to you. He wanted to raise a baby with you? Just so he could get to know you? Did you really have that much of a profound effect on him? Would he still feel the same when he found out what had happened to you? Could you do this? I mean really do this?

Babies are huge commitments. They were for life; there was no backing out. But the way Simon was looking at you, like he would take on the world for you with barely knowing you. It made you feel like you could do it. As long as you didn't have to do it alone, well, at least not completely. You chew on your bottom lip for a few more minutes, the thoughts rolling around in your head as Simon's eyes trail around your apartment.

“Okay…” you finally whisper and Simon's head whips towards you.

“Okay?”

“Yeah, okay. I-i don't think i can get rid of it anyway… The thought makes me feel sick,” you confess and the tension in Simon's shoulders all but disappears.

“Alright, we can figure this out. No pressure for us to be together, we can just start by becoming friends, and seeing where things go okay?” He smiles, and its a real genuine smile. Your heart stutters in your chest, and you can't help your own smile that spreads across your lips.

“If we’re being honest here,” you sigh, wringing your hands together in your lap,”I couldn't stop thinking about you either… I mean, even before all… yeah.. You know.”

Simon's hand comes over to rest on the side of your face, and he leans forward pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “I'm glad to hear that I wasn't the only one with lingering thoughts,” he chuckles.

Simon drops his hand and looks around your place once more, a furrow deep in his brow. He opens his mouth to say something but thinks better of it, before he notices the time on the clock hanging on your wall. It was almost 10 and he needed to check over his gear before he shipped out in the morning.

“I hate to do this… but I have to go,” his lips pulled down into a thin straight line.

“Oh right.. You told Price you would see him in the morning…”

“Yeah… Look, i can't tell you much, but i don't know how long i’ll be gone…” he looks around, and grabs the notebook you write your ideas for articles down in and scribbles on a spare piece. “This is my number, i won't promise i’ll respond while i'm away, but if anything happens, call this number 3 times in a row and you’ll get through to someone who can get a message to me okay? But that is only for emergencies, otherwise just text me and i’ll do my best to get back to you, alright?” He tears the paper out, coming to stand in front of you. He presses the paper into your hand. It crumples slightly as you close your hand around it.

“Okay,” you murmur, looking up at him from your spot on the couch. His fingers crush along your cheek as he brushes a strand of your hair back from your face.

“Be safe, keep the door locked… i’ll be back soon and we’ll go do something fun and get to know each other.” Simon smiles, as he takes a few steps backwards towards the door.

“I’ll hold you to it,” you smile, “Be safe out there.”

The only response is the soft click of the door.

Next: Part 4

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lipglossanon · 26 days

Note

just cant stop thinking abt dad leon like 😣

kinda want one where he pops her cherry bc :3

like, he's gonna be using the same thing that made her so, can't be too bad, right?

leon is basically a single dad, so it means mum is completely out of the way, so dad has to work day and night, barely has any time for her

she thinks applying for a college not far from home means she can still live under his roof, in desperate hopes of being able to spend more time with him before she graduates and moves out

obv, growing up without a mum means she had to raise herself, bc, even tho leon tries, its still different than having a maternal figure with u while u navigate girlhood, esp with things he cant (at all) help her with

so when he goes home late and catches her... 'experimenting', he doesnt know what to do. completely freezes up as he sees her messily finger herself, she just cant rub her clit right, so its a struggle to fit a single digit in since she cant get wet enough. its awkward yet hot, watching his sweet daughter trying to stuff her cunt with a finger, her hole too tight to the point that she cant even find any pleasure in... pleasuring herself at all. hes about to leave, but his dick is just too hard that its uncomfy so he accidentally makes a noise and makes himself known, both staring at one another with wide eyes. and just when hes abt to leave and act like nothing happened, she bursts out crying from embarassment and he just cant resist her so he goes in to comfort her and tho he knows its fucked up, he offers to help

he eats her out to get her wet enough to finger her properly without much difficulty this time. its slow and sweet, bc thats what his babygirl deserves, even if it wasnt him doing it. but the thought of some dumb college jock taking her virginity fully just doesnt sound right to him so?? he just HAS to do it himself. obviously, she thinks that, even though they were way past it, just inappropriate, bc... eating her out and fingering her is ok as long as he doesnt rly fuck her, right? so he gives up and settles for some panty-fucking, just sliding his cock against her pussy lips through the fabric of her panties (which he eventually yanks to the side because he just needs to feel her), bc it doesnt count if it doesnt go in, but shes just so wet that the tip accidentally (and easily) slips down her hole, but since hes already there, he coaxes her into letting him in and just popping her cherry 😣

(sorry that was so long 😭) (can u tell if im ovulating)

Me right now as I’m reading that 🤭

Anon, I love love love the trope of the tip slipping in so might as well just get dicked down 😌 that and ‘just the tip baby, swear that’s all’ 🥴 both are good 😵‍💫

And it just makes it ten times more taboo if Leon’s the one to pop his daughter’s cherry, using a flimsy ass excuse of ‘dad’s gotta show you how it is so some dumbass boy won’t take advantage’ 🤭

#ask box #anon #lipglossanon #lipglossanswers #real dad!leon #virgin!reader

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allfortzu · 3 months

Text

some ways to love

-- dahyun / tzuyu. 624, fluff, semi-suggestive. MEN DNI.

dahyun discovers tzuyu's delightful way of loving.

dahyun wakes up later than usual today.

there's coffee brewing and breakfast in the kitchen, but she finds herself drawn to the soft chatter of morning news in her living room.

tzuyu lounges on one of the couches, a peeled orange in her hand and a plate for the skin. she's eating one half of it.

in the break of dawn, she looks positively ethereal. when the light hits just right, cast over like a halo, tzuyu looks like she's glowing.

dahyun leans over the couch and plants a kiss on tzuyu's head.

“good morning,” she whispers.

she feels tzuyu jolt, then tip her head back to look.

“morning,” tzuyu says, an uncontrollable smile puffing up her cheeks when she sees dahyun.

dahyun takes the opportunity to cup tzuyu's chin gently, tilting it upwards. tzuyu's eyes twinkle so beautifully, dahyun can't resist laying a kiss on her forehead and sealing their lips with another.

when she pulls back, tzuyu is flushed and flustered, a familiar sight whenever dahyun does anything intimate.

“what was that for?”

“i just thought you looked pretty,” dahyun murmurs.

then, she pecks her lips again, which effectively throws tzuyu into a giggling fit. tzuyu has never been great with affection, so the reaction is expectant, but dahyun loves it all the same, especially when it makes tzuyu so giddy.

“you taste like oranges.”

tzuyu licks her lips, cheeks dusted with pink. “mhm, i was peeling some. i'm peeling yours now.”

dahyun glances over to tzuyu's lap. there's a quarter of an orange on the plate, but the other half in tzuyu's hands – pith mostly removed – catches her attention more.

“i took off the white stuff that you don’t like,” tzuyu raises the pithless half up to dahyun. “here.”

“you took the white stuff off for me?”

“yeah, but… just this half,” tzuyu says sheepishly. “sorry, i ate the other half– I'll peel more while you eat breakfast.”

dahyun almost melts.

it's a terribly romantic thing to do, and a terribly tzuyu thing to think nothing of it.

tzuyu grins up at her and offers her a perfectly orange slice. dahyun tugs on her wrist and takes a bite, right from her hand.

“that's really sweet, you know?” dahyun muses. she's never been particularly obsessed with oranges, but this one tastes especially lovely.

“you like it? i'll start buying more from that shop, then.”

“not the orange – you,” dahyun laughs. “you're really sweet. and i like you.”

she leans down and tilts tzuyu's head towards her, catching tzuyu in another kiss. maybe her lips taste like citrus now, because tzuyu swipes a tongue over her bottom lip and clutches onto her collar to hold them there a little longer.

she's out of breath a little by the time they pull back.

“now you taste like oranges,” tzuyu says.

“hm,” dahyun hums. she scratches tzuyu's jaw gently. “i haven't tasted you enough, though.”

if dahyun thought tzuyu's ears were already red, they turn even redder now. “you need to eat breakfast!”

dahyun grins coyly. “why would i eat breakfast when i could have you?”

tzuyu shoves the rest of the orange into dahyun's mouth in a panic. she scrambles to escape dahyun's suggestive gaze, wailing for mercy.

“okay, okay,” dahyun relents, but not before pressing a chaste kiss to tzuyu's cheeks. “will you peel me another orange?”

“i was already going to,” tzuyu says. then, in a softer murmur, “we can… do the other thing after.”

dahyun would tease, but her heart soars so far she forgets the words on her tongue.

she doesn't move until tzuyu moves to the kitchen with her, and as she eats breakfast, tzuyu peels her yet another orange, in her own delightfully tzuyu way of loving.

it's about time i wrote some plain old plotless datzu fluff with suggestive tropes :) this is from the whole "would your bf peel an orange for you" thing, and thank you to the anon for encouraging me to write something for it! it's a bit short, but what can you expect from a fic all about oranges and mindless love 🍊

on a similar note, happy early lunar new year! 🧧 thank you for all the support, and interactions are always appreciated <3

#twice imagines #dahyun x tzuyu #twice fluff #kim dahyun #chou tzuyu #datzu #maybe the plot was the oranges we peeled along the way #twice fics

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eluxcastar · 10 months

Note

First off, the new blog is so ✨️aesthetic✨️ I wanna eat it.

Second (since you're requests are still open)

Hear me out- Fatui Harbingers with a "tsundere" s.o

Or just Arlecchino,sandrone, and Childe with a "tsundere" s.o if that's easier!

Harbingers with a tsundere s/o

── ୨୧：harbingers x reader

୨୧﹑synopsis :: me and my wavering ability to speak properly going off my head again about reader's absolute tomfoolery

୨୧﹑content :: gn reader, probably not actually tsundere reader atp, reader could be touch-starved

୨୧﹑words :: 1k

firstly thank you dear anon I'm still in love with this theme it just hits

ok so maybe this isn't totally tsundere reader (mostly because I find the trope insufferable I'm sorry) but it is kind of tsundere. it's the less explicitly rude type just swimming in egypt and unable to communicate

Let's go lowest to highest again and start with our favourite ginger Harbinger, Tartare Sauce. Tartaglia would find your antics entertaining, aware of your feelings as he always is but unwilling to give you the easy way out, provoking you, if anything, with little gestures and notes of affection to get your heart racing. Tartaglia treats it like a habit that you don't like to let him know how much you like his touch, though Tartaglia knows you treasure him. You just don't like it when he interrupts your work. That's when he gets a real earful.

Arlecchino thinks of your demeanour as an endearing trait, choosing to smile and go along with it, though both of you know that she knows the truth. Arlecchino will listen to your objections and laugh a little before making a knowing remark like, "Right, I forgot, you have no interest in kisses from me." just to watch you squirm and try to hint at her that you would like some after all. Still, you just can't bring yourself to say it without work, all to earn a kiss on the cheek as your precious reward.

Pantalone is liberal with his love for you despite your denial as he revels in every break of your facade. You are a challenge that he enjoys every encounter with, even when your rejection turns to wrath. It is a special moment of will he or won’t he does when Pantalone is faced with the idea of you tackling him to the couch in a fit over him interrupting your work. Pantalone does not mind if you get feisty and start to fight more than usual, became he laughs it off and carries on to melt that icy heart of yours with a little more warmth.

More than anything, La Signora thinks you are adorable like this. She will let you run around like a mouse chasing a block of cheese, then throw her love in here and there to see you become flustered. You like to deny that you want things from her until she does it, and then, suddenly, you don’t want her to stop. Signora thinks your displays of pouty resistance are endearing and doesn't like to leave you quiet—if you're not mad at her, she wasn't enough. However, she does wish that you are satisfied and often manages to talk you into giving some back.

As for Sandrone, she is a similar case. She doesn't want to admit she secretly wants to cuddle you every night, she just does it, and you better not dare draw attention to it, or you won't receive cuddles for the rest of the night. You have to be a little braver and work your way up to it because hell will freeze over before Sandrone becomes eager to budge. She takes your idea of a request surprisingly well, pushing it to start asking where your nighttime cuddles went, mostly because she stole your habit and asks what happened to her kisses when you’ve been slacking for too long.

Someone like Scaramouche wouldn't just give you what you want if you're going to behave like you won't. You have to work for it, and he won't be taking pity on you until you do. Scara would be willing to deprive you of everything because, secretly, he's a little bit more like you than he'd like to admit, though he's just mean. Scaradouche will have more patience for you as his lover but certainly not pity. He enjoys watching you think about it and consider your options, seeing the deliberation in your head, because he knows you want to, and that gratifies him.

Capitano's whipped nature on your side fr. You say leap he asks how high, so when you make a point to very subtly imply that you would like cuddles, you will be receiving them. You will end up smothered in that big coat of his where it's cozy and warm because he doesn't want you to get cold, even if you want that in public where he will gladly take it entirely off to wrap around you with a kiss on your forehead. It'll get you grumbling, but at least you'll not freeze to death doing it and probably be found wrapped up fast asleep in it later.

Columbina treats it like a funny little voice nagging at her and hardly pays attention to your attitude when she's smothering you. She does not give a shit. She'll find a way to shut you up about it quickly because Columbina knows damn well that you want to be doted on and just don't know how to admit it. She only asks to tease you and watch you get all flustered about it.

Next up, we’ve got Dottore, and by god, guess what, bb? You get to suffer because if you can’t articulate what you want, you’re not gonna get it. He will leave you to wallow in your own inability to admit the things you want from him because he likes it when you get to the point that you realise you have no choice but to initiate things and hope for the best. It depends entirely on his mood whether he draws attention to it or not because one of those means that he’s busy, and the other acknowledges that he can be a bit too cruel with how far he lets it go.

Pierro has absolutely no time for your shit. He may have all the time in the world rn, but he's old and fossilising and not a chance does he want to spend it on the intricacies of your emotional complexes. Sorry, but he’s damn well busy. Pierro doesn’t have time to pick apart whether you do or do not want to be kissed goodbye every morning or pampered for a bit when he gets home. Once you start mumbling out one response, it stays until you switch up and start asking where your goodbye kiss went because until then, you’ll be getting no more than a forehead kiss in your sleep before he leaves that you’re not fully conscious for just so you know he hasn’t forgotten you, maybe even helps you to sleep in a little better.

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elllisaaa · 4 months

Note

imagine attending the same uni as jake… you meet through a mutual friend, but get close really fast cause you share the same friend group and attend the same parties. you’re instantly attracted to each other - you hide it more well than he does tho! his eyes roam shamelessly all over your body, as you tell him about the book you’re reading for school. he’s holding a drink in hand, one shoulder leaning against the wall, as he stares at the seducing motions of your mouth. music is blasting in the room, but he doesn’t miss a single word coming from your lips. his silence makes you suddenly realise for how long you’ve been the one doing the talking.

“sorry i got carried away..” you say through a nervous chuckle. “you must be bored.”

“no, not at all,” he shakes his head with a smirk. “tell me more, sounds really interesting.”

and he really does find the story interesting, don’t get him wrong. especially with the way your eyes glow with passion for the story, the characters and all the small details you pin point about it. he wants to hear more; he’s curious to know what happens next. but can’t he also kiss you at the same?

this is more of a soft cute thought, but IS it really?? cause we’re talking abt jake here. after you imagine his staring, his smirks and cheeky laughter that can make you wet in seconds, especially when it’s literally written on his face how bad he wants to pin you down and make you scream his name… i just KNOW the sexual tension will fly through the roof in this scenario. oh, how badly he needs to spread wide the legs of this pretty little bookworm!!! i’m going feralll

i love how your thoughts about jake always include him being your college mate 😭 but i'm definitely here for it because we LOVE this trope in this house. so ask and i should deliver sweetie 🤭

JAKE was really in the headspace of focusing on his studies this year. he barely managed to pass his exams, and he didn't want to let himself be distracted like he had been until now. that was until he met you.

you and your stupidly attractive smile, you and your voice sweet like honey that made him feel things he shouldn't, you and your body that seem to be sculpted with the goal of having you down on his knees for you. and that was where he would spend his nights if you allowed him too.

because not only were you exactly jake's type, but you two shared so many common interests, and one of these had to be books and literature. you were surprised when he admitted loving it, because, well, let's be honest, jake had much more the appearance and reputation of a fratboy than a bookworm.

but he was, he really was, and you enjoyed talking with him more and more as time passed. you also had to confess that jake was hot, you would have to be blind not to see it, but contrary to him, you knew how to hide it. he was not discreet in the way he was always checking out when you crossed paths at parties, always meeting there because you shared some friends.

jake also loved this side of you, the fact that you could be all dolled up, wearing the shortest dress known to mankind and wearing heavy makeup but still have an intellectual conversation with him about characterization and narration in the book you were reading for one of your classes at the moment.

but god, how smart you were was really turning him on. jake wanted to bury his head between your legs while listening to your ramble about your books and not let go until he made you forget all about how to form a sentence. but he doesn't want you to think that it's the only thing he wants from you. so even if he can't help but lick his lips at the thought of having you moaning his name, he would not break the wall ateez and act on this sexual tension.

and you're not immune to the effect he has on you either. the way he's lazily leaning against the wall, looking at you with lust filled eyes and a smirk on his face, had you resisting the urge of jumping his bones in the middle of the living room.

"should we go somewhere more private ? there's too much noise here..."

let's say that jake didn't miss on the opportunity you gave him, taking you upstairs in one of the spare rooms, locking the door behind and finally kissing you like he had dreamt about.

everything would be so messy and desperate because both of you are too worked up by the months of playing with each other to resist anymore. jake would give you everything you want, giving in to each one of your desires. and he would fuck you so good that everyone in the house would know about what you were doing. but that was okay, because everyone knew who you belonged to now...

#how much do i have to pay to get jake at my uni ???#eli answering your questions #eli's moots #dinna's asks #enhypen hard hours #enhypen hard thoughts #jake hard hours #jake hard thoughts

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sweeterthanthis · 1 year

Note

Daddy doesn't look very impressed with you, Lau 🤭😏

Game, Set and Match

Pairing: Stepdad!Bucky Barnes x 18+F!Reader

Summary: Flirting with your tennis instructor in front of him didn’t exactly go to plan. Or did it?

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, stepdad trope, heavy daddy kink, cheating themes, excessive dirty talk because i can't help myself, name calling (princess, bitch, slut, baby) anal sex, outdoor sex, risky sex, anal creampie, gaping, possessiveness, teasing, 18+.

Word Count: 1.1k

A/N: @lookiamtrying this is all your fault and I'm not sorry. Thank you to @cockslutpadalecki for reading this through for me 💕

All my works are 18+. If you click the read more tab, you are agreeing that you are 18 or over, have read the warnings and take responsibility for your own media consumption. I do not consent to having my work translated or posted anywhere else.

"I told you what would happen if you kept walking around here with your ass on display, didn't I?" He teases, fingers digging into the rump of your ass so hard, it has you keening from the pressure. The gravelly wall scratches against your stomach, your tennis skirt flipped up around your waist. "I told you if you didn't pull that fuckin' skirt down, I'd tear you a new one. You think I was lying?"

"No," you bite back quickly with a look over your shoulder, warmth fluttering in your chest cavity at the sight of his flushed cheeks and the focus in his pretty eyes. They're fixated on the stretch, your asshole molding around him as he eases in, his thumb caressing the skin where dick meets muscle.

"Oh, so you were hoping for this, mm? That why you've been bending over and flashing this little cunt to me all afternoon?" Bucky asks, spreading your cheeks wide and grunting lustfully at the way you take him, swallowing his dick whole, so deep you swear you can feel him in your guts.

"Ah! Yes, fuck, yes daddy." You'd agree to just about any statement, your nerve endings aflame with desire and pride. Pride that you can please him like this. Pride that you're the only one that will give him everything he wants. Any hole, any time. Whenever he fucking wants it. "Fuck me with your fat cock. Make it hurt. Punish me for being a little slut."

You knew exactly what you were doing when you took it upon yourself to flirt with your tennis instructor that afternoon. You'd felt Bucky’s eyes on you from the viewing platform. Fun is the last thing you usually have at Acre Oaks country club but not today. Today you took full advantage of his distant possessive stare and, well, it certainly paid off.

“You’re a nasty little bitch, aren't you? Trying to piss me off and get your own way.” The breeze has your skin prickling, your toes curling in your tennis shoes and your knees shaky. The blissful burn of his cock easing in and out of your asshole has your eyes flickering closed, a heady, desperate moan muffled by his palm as it curls over the lower half of your face. “Lucky for you, I just can’t resist, huh? How am I s’posed to when I know how fuckin’ tight this little hole is.”

Your inner thighs coated with slick, cunt clenching with an empty ache, you arch your back; tilting your head back so you can look at him. You smirk against his dewy palm, teeth grazing against his skin mischievously, gloss smearing across your cheek. “Fuck it, daddy.”

“God, you’re bad," he laughs, cock pulsing inside you and his thrusts quickening, your hips pushing back against him and your fingernails breaking against the wall in front of you. One hand braced on your waist, the other slips down between your sodden thighs, two fingers strumming back and forth over your clit. He fucks into you with a carelessness that has you shaking. “Want me to fill this tight ass up, Princess? Gonna spend the rest of that tennis lesson with my cum leaking outta you? Should’a worn panties today. That’ll teach you.”

“I wan’ it, daddy. I want your cum. Please, fuckin’ give it t’me.” At any moment you could be caught. You both know it. You’re hardly being discreet. And neither of you seem to give a solitary fuck about the fact. His balls slap against your pussy, only serving to heighten your pleasure, your stomach churning with a heavenly warmth that you’ve grown addicted to. “M’so close. Please. Fuck, please lemme cum.”

“Think you deserve it?” He hums, a deep groan eliciting from his throat as he nears his own end. Mild panic ensues within, the thought of walking away from him dissatisfied causing you to rut back against him like a bitch in heat. “If I let you cum, you gonna quit flirting with that asshole? Huh? Gonna remember who you belong to?”

“His name is Hal. Ah!” You yelp, his fingers straying from your pussy and digging into your inner thigh. “I mean, yes. Fuck. Yes, I swear. Please. I can’t--”

“Alright, I gotcha.” Bucky’s fingers return to your sensitive nub, rubbing expertly and his cock bottomed out inside you, hips grinding salaciously against your ass. You feel so fucking full. Its heaven. It’s everything. It’s filthy and desperate. Just like you. “C’mon, Princess. M’gonna fuckin’ bust.”

He falls forward, face buried in your neck and his hot, heavy breaths scorching your skin. You lose it then, shattering against the wall, caged between the harsh surface and his strong body. Safe. The feel of him flooding your asshole with his cum has you reeling, cunt tightening and a symphony of blissful moans slipping from your lips. “Thank you. Thank you, thank you.”

“There she is. There’s my girl,” he croons, nipping at your ear and jutting against you, emptying his balls and throbbing against your insides. “Better hurry, baby. He’s probably wonderin’ where you got to, isn't he? Lemme see the mess I made first though, mm?”

You whine when he moves to spread your cheeks apart, slowly pulling his length free of your fucked out hole. Bucky lets out a low whistle, clearly impressed with himself as he inspects the impressive gape. His cum oozes out instantly, dripping down onto your tennis shoe, the chill of the afternoon air sending a shudder through your trembling body. “Look at that. See? She’s wide open for me. Bet she’s grateful, too. You could learn a lesson or two from her, couldn’t you?”

With a swift kiss to your cheek and a light tap of your rear, he wipes his dick on your skirt and tucks himself away, leaving you to pull yourself together.

As you walk on bambi legs back toward the tennis courts, you can’t help but wonder what would happen if you ignored his warnings altogether. How much fun would he have punishing you if you did?

“Hey, sweetheart. Thought you’d done a disappearing act on me,” Hal grins, his white polo shirt tight against his abs and chest, hair floppy against his sweat-slick forehead. “Lets get back to it, shall we? Gotta work some more on that swing.”

You take the racket from him when he hands it to you, Bucky’s cum drying against your skin as you reach up on the balls of your feet and kiss Hal chastely on the cheek, the salty taste staining your lips. “Yes, Sir.”

Looking back over your shoulder, your eyes finding him as he stands on the veranda with a drink in hand, you smirk.

Yeah, you’re in for it tonight.

I no longer have a tag list, but if you want to keep up to date with what I post follow my sideblog, @sweetersficlibrary, and turn on alerts to be notified whenever I post something new 💕

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan imagine #stepdad bucky barnes #bucky barnes drabble #stepdad!bucky barnes x reader

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msviolacea · 3 months

Text

Okay, I've been sitting on these thoughts for a couple of weeks, and I've been reading one of my favorite genre writing books today in preparation for a potential project, and they flashed to the surface again. And I just can't resist anymore, sorry.

I saw a post a bit ago that seemed to angrily indicate that telling writers that they need a plot summary/logline/advertising text that goes beyond a list of tropes was somehow ... ableist? discriminatory against marginalized writers? some kind of elitist bullshit? I don't know, but I could hear the whizzing air of a point sailing over someone's head as I read it and it irritated me.

So, okay, let's go over why I think that's a load of crap.

You have a book or a fic or a story of some sort. When I ask you what it's about, you tell me "bisexuals in space, enemies to lovers!" If we're talking about a fanfic, okay, that's probably enough information to tell me if I want to read it - because I know the fandom, and therefore I have a pretty good idea of what else the story is going to entail. But if you're trying to sell me on your original story? I'm sure there are some people who would still jump on it, but I am really not one of them, and I venture to guess many, many other people are the same way.

Why? Here's a sampling of what your trope phrases do and do not tell me.

Okay, there are bisexual characters. And the fact that you reference enemies to lovers makes me think that we're talking about a romance. But that's not guaranteed! Is the story about the bisexuals falling in love? Is it a space adventure in which people incidentally fall in love? Does it not involve love or sex at all, just a bisexual character in a totally different story who happens to have sex with an enemy in a side plot?

Seriously, how does bisexuality or enemies or lovers factor into your plot?

If you're basing your advertising of your story on sexuality, what kind of society are you writing about? Is this a fun fantasy space setting where there's no discrimination based on who you want (or don't want) to have sex with? Or is this story going to include discrimination that parallels real-world problems? Those are two vastly different moods I have to be in to read a thing.

Overall, even if this is a romance, what's the sub-genre you're going with? Space opera? If it is, is it a ridiculous Jupiter Ascending world or a more gritty Expanse-style world? Is it hard sci-fi leaning? Is it actually a murder mystery set on a space station? Is it an action thriller set on a giant starship? Is it a cozy character study? Something totally different?

What do your characters want? A story in which your MC wants to become monarch of their homeworld is very different than one in which your MC is a smuggler trying to get out of legal trouble, and both are very different from an MC who is devoted to revenge against the person who killed their family.

What tone is your story? Again, if you're using tropes to advertise, my guess is it's somewhat lighthearted. But that's not guaranteed at all.

These are just the things I could think of in like 5 minutes. And maybe you don't care about any of these things, and you're happy to have an audience just of people who can read any kind of story any time as long as there are bisexuals in space. That's great! You found your audience! Have fun!

... but I'm betting that audience is very small, relatively speaking. And that you wouldn't be complaining about it if you didn't want a wider audience.

And implying that a reader or readers asking for something more than a list of tropes is somehow discriminatory against you, whatever marginalization you happen to have? That's insulting nonsense. Writing a story summary - be it for an Amazon page, the back of a book, the summary box on AO3, your website, whatever - is a skill that can be learned by anyone who can write a story long enough to require one. It's a different skill than writing the story, don't get me wrong, but it's a skill you can learn regardless.

By all means, put the tropes there too! Have them at the top or bottom of your summary! Put them on your website! I know romance authors who have search functions on their websites where you can filter by tropes! Those are great, but those authors also know that an individual story summary is also necessary! I can filter and say "I want to read hurt/comfort" but then I need to know what the fuck the story is about. Fanfic can be just about hurt/comfort and get its audience - BECAUSE people know the base fandom. Original fiction, not so much.

Anyway. That stuck under my skin, and now it's out. Hooray.

#jaime rambles

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mecachrome · 3 months

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Hi I would love to hear about the elaborate secret wag au you hinted at in the pastries post if youre up to talking about it. I think I need it injected directly into my veins I love it so much

ok note to self i have to stop calling things elaborate when in reality i mean that i think about them really hard before i fall asleep and then promptly forget anything interesting afterward. but of course i'd love to discuss this very vague universe some more!! :')

honestly this is all an extremely self-indulgent exercise because i'm just a huge sucker for the combined secret relationship + famous/non-famous trope, and i will always read/write it for any ship iteration that presents itself! like there is nothing i love more than understated displays of devotion, especially when it plays into the 4th wall socmed fuckery space of one half being famous and having an otherwise large social profile and the other being very lowkey and resisting any publicity about themselves... in that vein i can't tell whether the concept is super cringe & embarrassing (well i can & i know it is, but the question is whether that is enough to Stop Me!!!) because obviously lando dating some Boring Dude requires a er... certain suspension of disbelief (also sorry for any unintentional disrespect to maxf), but what is fandom for if not making stupid shit up <3

anyway the secretwag concept also developed from two things, 1) how much i enjoy & endorse oscar's private-not-secret relationship philosophy + 2) lando's extreme loyalty to & dependence on all of his childhood relationships, so the idea kind of took root as "what if oscar→lando what lily→oscar (and also kind of what maxf→lando)" but just with more of lando's friendgroup dynamix & his streamer identity folded into the mix. the origins of their rship are what remain the most ambiguous & handwavey 2 me but in short they'd somehow meet when they were younger (maybe oscar is the same age as lando, maybe lando stayed in school longer, maybe oscar moved to the uk earlier and they met during their karting days... idk!!!) except then because of finances oscar decides to go into engineering and gives up on motorsport pretty early on.

(tbh i always struggle with justifying non-driverness in canon divergence fic because i'm like WELL REALISTICALLY oscar would just go into another professional racing category if f1 weren't feasible, BUT ignoring that) i think oscar would objectively be a super adjusted engineering student and would thrive academically / not stew in self-pity about giving up racing, so i really like this idea of like... sure, oscar is One Of The Lads, but unlike most people in lando's life who revolve around his work somehow or otherwise reflect his level of celebrity—drivers, the quadrant team, d-grade influencers & djs & social media personalities—oscar is just... Oscar. he's the smartest person lando knows and his love language is quality time and lando is the one usually doing acts of service for all his friends but oscar always wordlessly & unquestionably reciprocates that for him (lando annoying oscar into giving him a massage every night and oscar conceding immediately like ok... jon who❤️) and while lando has to go out of his way to navigate/manage the emotions of those around him and feels indebted to all his friendships he's never had to do that for oscar because oscar is the steadiest part of his life. and then obviously at some point when they're young dumb & drunk they get fucked up about it and start dating on the dl

(waves hands) anyway IDK but i'm just stuck on the image of like lando at 19 starting his first season of f1 and being raw and uncertain of himself and constantly catastrophizing about the future and trying to build out his brand and prove himself, and even like maxf is racing full-time that year, but at least he has oscar who's away at uni (in slightly aged up verse) and shows up at his place every weekend to ground him... like oscar never sugarcoats anything OR doubts himself OR needs lando to be any less open about his irrational fears so lando is like damnnn your cringefail earnestness and clear-eyed perspective of reality has kind of bewitched me *momentarily healed* etc. ft. domestic bants & the birth of master baker oscarpastry when covid hits and everything goes virtual & they quarantine together... lando starts streaming regularly and there's just this random dude in the background of half his streams and chat is like "???" every time like. Who is that + Why is he australian + Why is he cooking you dinner at 1am. his only social media profile is a private ig page with 50 followers.

+ after grad they keep living together and oscar becomes a wfh developer and i imagine him being very financially steady and self-sufficient but also like... deeply LAZY, so he has 0 ambition or intention to chase anything more demanding and is happy to just do his boring software job + be lando's househusband after hours LOL. like bringing lando pastries at quadrant shoots (ty chel 4 this image) between dull code reviews & expertly ducking away from the landolog camera & letting lando drive them around in his stupid gimmick cars and just generally toeing the line perfectly of being invested in lando's success and caring as deeply about motorsport as he does and even kicking his ass in iracing sometimes because he's kept up with sim racing but also keeping his ego in check and not making him engage in the world/politics/circus of f1 more than he has the capacity for on their off-weekends *__* finally lando is like babe i need to go commit tax fraud in monaco and oscar is just like ❤️ ok ❤️ we can move out tomorrow ❤️ and they find a tiny flat that's deeply overpriced but it's Them and it works. oscar plans his days off so he can go to half the races but nobody ever even notices him because the photographers don't know he exists.... except for maxv who lives in their building and met oscar once and was immediately like I Respect You #fellowsimracer so now whenever he sees oscar they get caught up in a conversation for like 30 minutes about random nerd shit and lando is very discombobulated about it every time. on the other hand maxf has been trying to be chill about lando of all people having been in a healthy committed relationship for the past 6-ish years so he frequently gets into trouble for making bad jokes about their sex life on stream that everyone thinks is them being homophobic etc. etc. ANYWAY YOU GET THE GIST OF IT!!!

#ask #this is so so stupid i'm sorry. but personally idt there can ever be enough secret relationship fic <3

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tlonista · 5 months

Text

I'm sorry I still can't get over what an intense... gender dynamics Rorschach test Astarion is? So much of the spawn v. ascended fanwar ends up being about whether his character's true core is the traits that are stereotypically perceived as feminine (physical and emotional vulnerability, ambivalence toward sex, coldness as a response to victimization, giving up power to avoid hurting others) or masculine (dominance, possessiveness, innate uncontrollable predation tempered only for your one true love).

Obviously my favorite read is that he's a subversion of a monster romance archetype: he protects himself with an apex predator mask that he finds miserable and dehumanizing, and his arc isn't about finding a lover who's the exception to his monstrousness, but about deciding whether to embrace the full bittersweet range of being a person or kill everything that's not the mask.

(Which is, of course, a potential trap in real-world masculinity too. Being seen as a scary predator who's not allowed to care for others or accept comfort except on narrow romantic terms, and being considered unconditionally sexually available because that's obviously What Men Want.)

But I'm also keenly aware that this is a personal emotional thing for me. I'm in AO3-centered fandom because I find romancelandia alienating. I'm never gonna ascend Astarion but I don't think the popular maledom/femsub Ascended fandom vibe is textually or morally "wrong". There's just this vicious little whisper of... I wish it would stay in the massive commercial fiction industry (and 99% of Wattpad) that's made for it already. The inescapable culture-wide default for romance and erotica is a powerful man falling for a subordinate woman whose brain regardless of personality flips a magical submissive switch within 6 feet of a bedroom. Hell thanks to the NYT and romance novels as many people might know omegaverse as a "what if women could be even more submissive and breedable for men" trope as the weird gay porn framework it began as. I just want to hang out in my corner and not have to remember what an anomaly I am.

And god I'm trying so hard to resist this, because it's petty and mean and the possible divergence of characters' paths is what makes BG3 so good. Anyway the approximately 2 people I've seen writing Ascended Astarion femdom are god's bravest soldiers.

#astarion #baldur's gate 3

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