#I don’t think it was even a conscious thing I don’t think he planned it for rp reasons he just | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

orikiys · 6 months

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✿ ✿ 〞dating seventeen

✰ pairings: ot13!seventeen x fem!reader

✰ genre: tooth rotting fluff

✰ warnings: mentions of reader having a bad day in some, mentions of food. lemme know if you feel like there’s any more.

✰ word count: 2k + words

౨₊ৎ seungcheol

acts clingy. it’s usually him that initiates skinship and you wouldn’t find a single photo of the two of you without him hugging, leaning on you or simple just holding you. but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t like it when you initiate it. in fact he enjoys it so much but does not act like that sometimes because he feels too shy. after knowing him for quite a long time, you know it’s him when he keeps a hand over your back. or he simple has an arm wrapped around your waist or shoulders when he sits beside you. the most common is him laying on top of you when he returns home after a busy schedule.

“hey sweetheart,” he mumbles, pressing a kiss to your knuckles and plops down beside you. his arm eventually finding it’s way to you and pulling you in his embrace. “it was so tiring today, y’know?” he begins his rambles all the while keeping his hand firmly wrapped around your back.

౨₊ৎ jeonghan

he’s gentle and patient with you. to the outside world he may look short tempered, but with you it’s like he becomes a different personality. he’s so much more softer and often encourages you to talk resulting in him being the listener. his attentiveness, soft murmurs of appreciation and kisses on your jaw as he nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck— all of it leads to the way he never loses his calm around you, as well as his effort to not to.

“had a long day, angel?” he whispers, cupping your face and pressing his lips to your forehead for a few seconds before pulling away. he doesn’t let you reply, judging the way your eyes are already dropping and without a word he helps you do your night routine and tucks you in the bed, “sleep well, okay?” he mumbles trying to keep his voice no louder than what he could hear so he doesn’t end up waking you.

౨₊ৎ joshua

he tends to be observant. call it his nature, but. you’ll never find joshua bringing home a wrong order of your coffee or the flavour of ice cream you don’t like. he likes to take note of things you love and the ones you hate. he’s been doing this ever since the two of you started dating and it’s no wonder that he has now made nearly a foot long list. another habit of his is to call you when he’s dilemma. he thinks that whatever you say is right. he feel’s it your ‘woman instinct’ because when you do say something seriously, he will NEVER ignore it.

“i brought you your favourite sandwiches with some waffles! thought you’d need those,” his enthusiastic tone never fails to brighten the days and his eyes— that trail over your face and the way he knows exactly how you’re feeling just by the lowering of your eyebrows; is all too familiar. and he'd also know when you're not feeling so good. he’ll tend to caress your hair and press you close to his chest while he asks you what's wrong.

౨₊ৎ jun

he may not seem like it, but he loves to pester you in the public or around friends while calling you cheesy nicknames, he does cringe at himself later on. he’ll be doing nothing and will still manage to think about things he’ll plan to say to you when he meets you. he loves cracking jokes even though they’re lame just to get a reaction out of you and he feels prideful when he manages to make you laugh. he thinks it’s one of the best unmatched feelings in the world.

“hey sugar,” he whistles and takes a seat beside you, a scoff escaping your lips which later turns into laughter when he tickles you hard. he stares at you in the eye for a minute or so before looking away because he still can’t hold the eye contact as you still manage to make him nervous.

౨₊ৎ hoshi

is your number one hype boy. he never, i repeat, never fails to give you random aggressive compliments throughout the day. and on days when you feel self-conscious he’ll use his pretty little brain to form words that do nothing but only encourage you. call him even at 3am, he’ll pick up the calls because it’s you ( it’s giving priorities ). loves gifting you things randomly at alternate days or whenever he finds something that reminds you of him and when you ask him why, he always replies with a ‘there’s never a bad day for gifts.’

“baby how come you look so beautiful?” he says those words so casually that it makes you speechless. he says those while staring at you through the mirror. one hand on the chair you sit while the other is on your shoulder. he looks at you with so much love, he treats you with so much love that you don’t think you could love anyone else like you love him.

౨₊ৎ wonwoo

when i say he’s protective, i mean the kind of protective that always holds on to your hand in crowded places, where he makes sure to blow on the food twice before feeding it to you or one where he simply just ties your hair when your hands are full. but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t know his limits. he’s the kind of boyfriend that gives you space when you need and supports your decisions. he always has your back, so there’s no need to worry. regardless of what happened, he’ll always be there for you and listen to you when you want him to.

“did you eat?” he shakes his head in disappointment at your answer before pulling out a pan. “try it,” he suggest a few minutes later and blows on the spoon before feeding it to, his finger immediately wiping the spill off the corner of your lips and he gives you that chuckle when you stare at him for too long. “you shouldn’t skip meals next time, okay?” he mutters as he watches you dig into the food.

౨₊ৎ woozi

this man right here might be the busiest, but he always ensures that he has enough time for you especially when you need him. he would just be working on a track with you sitting on the couch behind him and talking to him, telling him about things that were troubling you and he will not hesitate to pause and turn around before listening intently.

“come here,” he says while pulling you to his office chair and making you sit on his lap the koala style. he rocks your back while peppering your face with kisses just to cheer you up. maintains his patience around you and encourages you talk more freely with him.

౨₊ৎ dokyeom

the type of boyfriend to intentionally match with you while going on a date and later pretending to hate it. loves buying matching jewellery for the two of you and he feels so happy when he sees you wear something he gifted you. it makes him feel that there’s a part of him that’s always with you. another thing he’ll do is randomly grab your hand and kiss it whenever he feels like it.

“morning my love,” he mumbles and pulls you closer to his embrace even though he is still half-asleep. he would then caress your face with a soft smile and would insist on staying in rather than going out on the weekends. he says it’s his favourite place.

౨₊ৎ mingyu

feeds you with his love and handmade food, these are his two main love languages. he’d cook you breakfast in bed no matter how your day is going but in hopes that it gets happier and better because of him. mingyu is a man who loves skinship and won’t hesitate to do so in public as well. always remembers what you like or don’t, and gives you all his attention when you’re talking, no matter how boring the topic is, you’ll never find his eyes away from your face while you talk.

“really?” he hums questionably while brushing your hair as you rant to him about all the incidents that happened. his touch is soft like a feather yet knowing it’s him it's enough to make you feel at ease.

౨₊ৎ minghao

i feel like with hao the two of you have intimate moments quite often. be it randomly taking walks at night or sharing a tub of ice cream, the two of you never fail to stay on your own anr often end up inviting the other one over. your favourite dates are watching movies with him all night long in your bed and just having a good laugh or cry depending on the genre. hao is a person who would trust his partner wholeheartedly. so he isn’t afraid to show you his vulnerable side and that he does like being babied.

“i like this ice cream,” he hums in delight while sending you a grin, making you grin back just as enthusiastically. there’s a mischievous glint on his face as he tackles you to the couch before tickling you till your lungs burst out of immense joy.

౨₊ৎ seungkwan

while seungkwan does like to joke around pretty often and imitate you frequently ( almost every other hour ) he is a supportive partner. he won’t hesitate to listen carefully and give his opinions and provide suggestions. when in doubt, seungkwan is always there for you. at times it might be hard to talk to him because the topic might be sensitive to you, but seungkwan knows you well. he’ll give you time or just give you a hug and stay like that as you talk. it’s nothing in this world that he’d want other than you being comfortable with talking out your problems with him

“i’m sorry, did you have a bad day?” he mutters as he watches you stomp your way to the couch. wordlessly, he follows you before sitting beside you and just takes your hand in his. “do you want to talk about it?”

౨₊ৎ vernon

vernon is a guy of few words. or so you thought. once you get to know him well you can’t help but laugh at even the lamest jokes that he says. he’s like a mood setter. always improving your mood everyday. although there are times where you fail to understand each other, bur vernon makes sure to sit down and discuss everything calmly.

“what does a house wear?” he begins making you groan and before he could finish the joke he starts laughing, “address! this one’s funny,” he wipes away that tear and it’s hard to hold in your laugh when you make eye contact. it’s like an immediate response and you can’t help but smack his knee for it.

౨₊ৎ dino

being the youngest he always did feel like he had some kind of responsibility and it’s been the exact same in your relationship. when you’re with him, dino is extremely careful. he’ll make sure to wear a jacket so he can give it to you when you’re cold. he shows his affection by giving you handmade gifts like letters, paper flowers, chocolate boxes and on days like valentines’ be prepared for a whole bunch of boxes all for you.

“i told you to not to wear heels,” he pouts a bit as he applies bandages to your bruised up heels. when he’s done he pretends to be angry and huffs loudly but fails to do so and ends up ruffling your hair more affectionately than you expected.

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fuckyeahdindjarin · 1 year

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Seams

Joel Miller x F!Reader

{ Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Part II: Threads }

Rating: M

Summary: Joel has a problem. Having settled into some semblance of a 'normal' life in Jackson that no longer involves running for his life and living off scraps, his clothes are getting a little… tight. Self-conscious, he deals with it the way he does most things - he ignores it.

That is until one day, the zipper on his jeans finally gives up after one too many desperate tugs, leaving him stuck. With neither Tommy nor Ellie anywhere to be found to get him out of the tight spot, Joel begrudgingly heads to the clothing store he’s seen in town for help - and a new pair of jeans.

There, he meets you.

Warnings: Spicy thoughts, sexual tension, sexual innuendos, body insecurity, some language, Joel being unkind to himself, shy!reader, reader has a nickname related to her job, soft!Joel, no use of Y/N

Word count: 6k

Notes: I haven't written anything this fast for a hot minute. It's both exciting and terrifying, especially as Joel is so new to the fandom. So this is a one-shot as it stands, but I'll be lying if I say I haven't thought about where this story can go. Please be gentle with me, Joel is easily the most intimidating Pedro boy I've written for so far. I hope this doesn't disappoint 🥺

‘TommmMMMMMYYYY!’

His voice echoes in the empty street, gruff with irritation. He can feel eyes on him - he always does, wherever he goes in this damn place - covert stares from behind curtains, peeking out of windows from the neighbouring houses.

The polished wood thumps hollowly under his fist. Head bowed in surrender, his forehead makes contact with the surface of the door with a dull thud.

‘Fuck,’ he mutters under his breath.

Trudging back to the house that’s been allocated to him - he still struggles to think of it as his - he slams the door shut behind him so hard that the sound rings in his ears. Well, more in his left than his right.

Tossing the keys onto a chest of drawers in the hallway, he yells in a last-ditch attempt, ‘Ellieeee!’

The house is silent.

The one time he needs either of them, neither can be found anywhere. Even Maria has made herself scarce - not that he’d ask her for help for this.

This being these stupid fucking jeans.

His trusty jeans that he’s worn for years, other than on laundry days, which were few and far in between. They’ve literally seen him through thick and thin - the knees are so worn he can almost see the web of white thread beneath the denim.

Tess had gotten him these jeans. Stole them, if he remembers correctly. Once upon a time, he needed a belt to hold them up, or they’d hang down to his ass crack. By the time Ellie came into the picture, they fit well enough to render the belt redundant. He could still easily fit things into his pockets though, like a map or a switchblade.

But now -

Now he’s stuck, and he can’t get them off.

If he’s being honest with himself, the jeans haven’t fit for months. The jobs in Jackson don’t come anywhere close to the backbreaking work in the QZ or being on the road with Ellie. The food is plentiful even during the harsh winter, and as much as he looks down his ideological nose at it, Maria deserves credit for the thriving commune.

He had a late start this morning. Ellie had already vacated the house by the time he came to. He was on autopilot, distracted by his thoughts about the porch steps that have rotted and need to be replaced.

He was making plans in his head to nip down to the workshop to get the wooden planks when he started getting dressed. Stepping into the legs of the jeans, he pulled them up, hopping to stretch them over his thighs. Out of habit, he sucked in his belly to button them up, the waistband seemingly even tighter than usual.

He relegated that to the back of his mind, the same way he’s ignored the fact that the jeans have been uncomfortably tight for months - to the point of hindering his movement when he lays bricks, or cuts off his breathing when he sits down. But he’s gotten used to it, like he does everything else. He’s Joel Miller with the stiff upper lip, after all.

The zipper was next. As usual, he met resistance about halfway up. Baring his teeth, he gripped the tongue of the zipper and yanked upwards.

Except this time, it didn’t budge. Grumbling, he pulled harder, feeling the burn in his biceps -

It happened so quickly that he wasn’t even aware until he was wheeling backwards from the force, his arm flying up in an arc - and a metallic clink behind him registered faintly in his good ear.

Disoriented, he glanced down at the zipper. The slider had come clean off.

‘Fuck,’ he swore and turned to the full-length mirror on the wall to inspect the damage. Running an experimental finger along the seam, it was clear that the zipper had somehow snagged on the denim. It was stuck. Dead stuck.

Turning the house inside out, he couldn’t find a single pair of scissors, and there isn’t enough space to fit a knife in without slicing himself open, at which point he left on his ultimately fruitless search for reinforcement.

Joel scrubs a tired hand down his face. He’s never been a vain guy - Tommy is that sibling. But he’s never needed to stress about his looks either, with contracting keeping him in shape before the outbreak, and the fight for survival after - until now.

Grabbing his jacket, he shrugs it on, hyper-conscious of whether it’s a tighter squeeze than usual (fortunately not) - and heads into town.

Main Street Outfitters, the only clothing store in Jackson, sits in the middle of the high street, sandwiched between the pub on one side and the welder’s on the other. For the most part, residents come in to trade in old clothes for new ones, but there’s also a nicer selection for the occasional party that one can barter for.

You’re in the workshop at the back, the afternoon sun filling the room through the skylight.

With your skill in thread and needle, you were the obvious candidate for the job when you arrived in Jackson. Over the years, it has become your sanctuary. The walls are lined with wooden shelves, where neat - though mismatched - boxes of buttons, trimmings, thread and trinkets slot perfectly into place.

You spend the days checking over incoming clothes after they come back from the laundry, making sure they are in reasonable condition and mending those that are not. The shop also charges for adjustments and repairs, and the tasks easily fill your working hours.

It’s a Tuesday, and it’s usually quiet this time of the afternoon. If you’re lucky, you can be undisturbed until you clock off at five - which is why you’re surprised when you hear the tinkle of the doorbell.

The footfall is heavy, it sounds like a strong work boot. You hold your breath and your fingers hover mid-air as the door shuts with a slam. You hear the customer clear his throat - definitely a man - as you wait in vain for the front of house to greet him.

But of course Lucy has sneaked out again. She’s a sweet girl, but manning the counter has always been too dull for her.

‘Hello?’

The voice is deep and gravelly, and despite your reluctance, it doesn’t sit well with your work ethic to keep a customer waiting. Sticking the needle into a pin cushion, you noiselessly rise from your seat and make your way to the front of the shop.

Your first glimpse of him is his back. Standing in front of a rack of jeans, the grays in his hair catch the light streaming through the shop front windows. You study him for a minute, curious eyes running over the width of broad shoulders under a beat-up, khaki jacket. Lower, his jeans are… well-worn, to put it kindly. And from sight, a sitting a bit tight on his hips -

You must have shifted your feet without you noticing. At the minutest creak of wood, the man whips around, one hand reaching behind him in search of the butt of a loaded gun or the hilt of a knife. It’s your good fortune that you see neither on him. The intensity of his gaze is just as effective as a blade on your neck to pin you to your spot.

There’s no question that he’s a newcomer. You’ve seen the same kind of intensity in everyone who’s braved what’s out there to get here.

But even if that didn’t give him away, you already know who he is. He’s Tommy’s brother. Joel, if you remember correctly. Maria approached you for some clothes a few months back when he arrived with his kid for the second time. They’ve been the talk of town since - not that you listen. In fact, you try not to, but you can’t help it if someone talks loudly enough at the next table in the canteen to interrupt your lunchtime reading.

‘Sorry,’ he mumbles as the tension in his body recedes. ‘You’re very quiet.’

You duck your head. ‘Sorry.’

‘You work here?’

Wringing your fingers nervously, you nod and take two timid steps towards him, hoping he doesn’t hear the tremour in your voice. ‘How can I help?’

You’ve heard things about Joel Miller. The words most frequently whispered as he ambles by in town include ruthless, cold-blooded and steer clear.

You can’t exactly reconcile the man in front of you with those particular words right now.

There’s nothing that speaks to ruthlessness in the way he averts his eyes and shuffles his feet, the blunt tip of his shoes catching the wooden floor. You also find it hard to believe that a truly cold-blooded person would willingly cross the country and all its horrors in search of his brother, or take a teenager under his wing.

You might not think much of yourself, but you know that your judgement of character has kept you alive so far. And your instinct isn’t telling you to steer clear of this man - quite the opposite, in fact.

But that’s neither here nor there.

He rubs the back of his neck, uncomfortable with your scrutiny. ‘Just lookin’ for some new jeans.’

‘Alright,’ you reply, taking the remaining five steps to the other end of the jeans rack, a safe distance away from him. ‘What’s your size?’

To your surprise, he huffs a sardonic laugh. ‘At least one up from whatever I have on right now.’

Sucking in a breath, you gesture vaguely at him. ‘Um, do you mind if I take a look at uh - you? So I can guess what size will fit you?’

You’re used to being the most awkward person in the room wherever you go, but this man is giving you a pretty good run for your money right now. While you divert your gaze as he unbuttons the front of his jacket, he fixes his somewhere over your shoulder to the right, grinding his teeth, as if he wishes he was anywhere but here.

Dragging your eyes back to him, you take stock of your customer as he sweeps the lapels of the jacket to the side. Underneath, the green flannel cuts off at the top of the jeans, and you see the soft pouch of his abdomen beneath the fabric. While the shirt is well-fitted, the jeans are obviously too small. The waistband bites into his sides, you can see the subtle overhang of his love handles. Even by the way he’s standing you can tell he’s uncomfortable, packed in way too tight in the denim.

And then… you really shouldn’t, but you stare at the front of the jeans. Now, you know for a fact that the fit will be just as snug there even if he goes a size up…

‘Sorry, not much to look at,’ he grunts, breaking the silence.

Taken aback by the self-derision in his voice, the words leave your mouth before they register, sharper than you mean them to be. ‘Don’t say that.’

He blinks at you. ‘What?’

You gape at him. Does he really not see? His tall, solid frame? The strong columns of his thighs? Is this man blind on top of being frustratingly attractive -?

But of course you can never say that. Instead, you pull out three different pairs of jeans in quick succession and all but throw them at him, heat prickling the tips of your ears as the disbelief that you spoke to a customer like that sinks in.

‘The dressing room is there,’ you squeak, pointing at the far corner. ‘I’ll be at the back if you need any help -’

You turn on your heels, in a hurry to get back to your workshop, but you only get halfway through the spin. It takes you three seconds to realise why - his calloused palm is on your wrist, holding you in place.

‘Actually, I do need help - I broke the zipper, and I’m stuck in these damn jeans.’

You ignore the clench of your stomach at the way he spits out the word damn. You’re not big on swearing, but the cuss word sounds good rolling off his tongue in his Southern twang.

To your horror, a giggle bubbles up your throat before you can slap a palm over your mouth.

‘I’m so, so sorry,’ you apologise profusely, heat flooding your cheeks.

You stare in consternation when those broad shoulders of his quake, a half-smile on his lips as they part in a scratchy chuckle. ‘Trust me, I’m glad I found you first. My brother or my kid would have given me a much harder time. Probably would’ve pissed their pants laughin’.’

Despite yourself, you smile back with a weak attempt at a joke. ‘I mean, I’ll try not to -’

He smirks, the corners of his eyes crinkling. ‘That’s all I can ask for.’

You lead the way to the back of the shop and Joel follows three polite steps behind, pausing by the doorway. Running practised eyes over the space, the contractor in him appreciates the well-built skylight and the sturdy furniture in the room, pieces that were clearly built to last. He places the jeans you picked out for him on the big work table, made of strong timber and aged with time.

He picked up a change in your demeanour the moment you crossed the threshold into the workshop. There’s a quiet confidence in your measured steps, the way you move speaking volumes - this is clearly your place, and you’re so much more comfortable in your skin here.

You point at the spot marked by a round, cosy rug directly beneath the skylight. ‘Could you stand there for me?’

Doing as he’s told, he startles when you march straight up to him, sliding your palms under the shoulders of his jacket to push it off. Your front brushes his chest briefly when you reach around to catch it, but not brief enough for him to ignore the soft swell of your breasts pressed up against him.

Joel is all too aware of his pulse going from zero to a hundred at the fleeting touch, the collar of his shirt suddenly a bit too tight. For fuck’s sake, Miller. It’s been an embarrassingly long time since his head has gone anywhere near there, but of course it has to happen at the most inconvenient moment.

At least you don’t seem to notice, draping his jacket over the back of a chair before retrieving a pair of tailor’s scissors from one meticulously organised drawer.

Just when he thinks he’s gotten a handle on himself, you hit him with a non-sequitur. ‘Are you wearing underwear?’

Only when Joel splutters wordlessly does the full weight of the question seem to hit you. You stutter, ‘Oh god, I didn’t - I mean - I only asked because if push comes to shove, and I have to cut through the jeans, I don’t want to ruin any underwear you’re wearing -’

You trail off, and it’s his turn to stammer, scratching an invisible itch on his elbow as he struggles to remember what he usually does with his hands.

‘No, no, I get it. I’m ahem -,’ he pauses with a cough. ‘I’m not actually wearin’ any underwear right now. Not out of habit, it’s just that I’ve been barely squeezin’ into the stupid jeans even without it.’

His honest answer seems to put you at ease, and you purse your lips. ‘Sounds uncomfortable.’

He shrugs. ‘Have been for months.’

‘I’m sorry.’

He arches an eyebrow. ‘What for?’

‘That you’ve been uncomfortable. That’s one thing clothes shouldn’t be.’

Not quite knowing how to answer you, he watches you grab a velvet cushioned footstool from under the work table and place it squarely at his feet. Then, without further preamble, you sink onto your knees in front of him, knocking the air clean out of his lungs.

As he stares down at the crown of your head, your nose at the level of his waistband, he muses that he hasn’t seen this view for a long time, a very long time. His fingers twitch at his sides, and he closes his eyes, fighting the base instinct to cup the back of your head in his palm and to pull you close -

He breathes out hard through his nostrils and clenches his jaw, casting his gaze heavenwards through the skylight as he actually prays for the first time in years.

Don’t you fucking dare get hard, Miller.

You chew on the inside of your mouth as you consider what’s before you. It’s tricky. The jeans are unbuttoned and zipped up most of the way, but the denim has been caught tight in the metallic teeth, and the handle of the zipper yanked clean off.

Cocking your head to one side, you think out loud. ‘I think we should at least try and unsnag the zipper before cutting. But we’re going to need some lubrication, and we’ll need to give it a really good, firm tug -’

The man chokes on nothing above you, and you frown up at him in a question.

Clearing his throat loudly, he asks through gritted teeth, ‘Do we have to?’

‘I mean, I can just cut open the jeans, but then you’ll definitely have to trade in something extra to cover the costs of the repairs -’

He interrupts, ‘That. Let’s do that.’

‘Alright, your call,’ you say with a nod. ‘Can you hold up your shirt?’

You try not to gawk when he draws up the tails of his flannel, revealing his soft stomach underneath. The mid-rise jeans cut off beneath his belly button, and you eye the trail that sneaks full and dark under the waistband. He’s obviously sucking his tummy in, and you catch yourself wishing he doesn’t feel like he has to.

You bite your bottom lip. ‘Do you think you can fit a couple of fingers into the waistband so I can slide the scissors in? They’re sharp, I don’t want to cut you.’

You watch as he tries, first his index finger, then his middle, but he can barely squeeze in beyond the nail, which turns completely colourless from the pressure. He sighs in surrender. ‘Mfraid you’ll have to, sweetheart.’

You have to close your eyes for a moment, your head swimming. You’re not sure whether it’s from the sweetheart, or the fact that he wants you to stick your hand down the front of his pants.

Well, not exactly that he wants you to. And not your hand. But still.

You squeak. ‘Do I have to?’

He pins you a sarcastic arch of his eyebrows. ‘Well, if you’re sure that you won’t cut my dick off -’

Your face heats up at his blunt words, falling back onto your haunches. ‘Great, now you’ve got me worried -’

Palms up in apology, he shrugs. ‘Sorry -’

‘No, no, you’re right. I don’t want to accidentally castrate you,’ you sigh. ‘Are you - um - well adjusted in there?’

‘I’d go down the right side of the zipper,’ he answers diplomatically.

Taking a deep breath, you ask, ‘Ready?’

‘Whenever you are, sweetheart.’

The first contact is the brush of your knuckles against his stomach, the skin warm and soft on the back of your fingers. You don’t dare look up, but you can feel his eyes on you as you burrow your index finger under the waistband. Though it’s a squeeze, you manage to wriggle in nail side down, creating a small gap - still not quite enough to get the scissors in without nicking him.

Talking more to yourself, you mumble, ‘Better safe than sorry. Let me just get one more finger in -’

Joel chokes so hard that you almost jump back in fright, frowning at him as he catches his breath. ‘Are you okay? Do you need some water?’

His voice tight, he shakes his head. ‘No, I’m fine.’

You wait a beat to make sure he doesn’t go into another coughing fit. When the coast is clear, you gesture at his jeans. ‘Can I just -’

‘Get one more finger in?’ he finishes your sentence in his raspy baritone.

You finally hear it when he says it like that. And oh god, your ears burn as you stare up at him, lips parted, torn between outrage and a very disorienting arousal. ‘You - you -’

A wicked smirk tugs unexpectedly at the corner of his mouth. ‘I already tried, sweetheart. My fingers are too big to fit inside.’

The touch of playful condescension in his tone has your jaw going slack, and your brain practically short-circuits at the thoughts of where else they are too big to fit inside of -

So as it turns out, you’re brave, or just downright stupid, when you’re turned on. Next thing you know, you hear yourself telling him off. ‘I could just leave you in those jeans you know.’

Joel smiles wider, and retorts, ‘I don’t think you would.’

‘Just because I’m shy doesn’t mean I don’t have a mean streak,’ you shoot back.

He seems pleased to have lured you out of your shell, grinning down at you. ‘Believe me, I’m shakin’ in my boots, sweetheart.’

It’s really unfair that he looks this good from where you are on your knees. His eyes are hooded, curls flecked with grays sweeping his forehead. Even though the apocalypse has left its marks on him in wrinkles, frown lines, and smudged bags under his eyes, it has clearly not taken away from that proud nose or plush lips -

Steadying yourself with a deep inhale, you shake yourself out of it. With an in, it’s slightly easier to push in your middle finger into the waistband to widen the gap. Happy with the quarter inch of space, you hold up the scissors. ‘I’m ready to cut if you are.’

He nods his acquiesce. ‘Do your worst.’

Opening up the scissors and carefully fitting the blade beneath the denim, you carefully begin snipping away. They are sharp, but the fabric is tough and you’re conscious of the very tight fit, so you take it slow.

You pause when you’re a couple of inches in, when Joel lets out a groan of relief. Absent-mindedly, you run a soothing thumb over the angry, red indents the waistband dug into the soft pouch of his tummy, sending a shudder through him.

‘Sorry,’ you squeak, snatching back your hand as if he burns you.

Too preoccupied with the relief of being able to breathe, Joel shakes his head. ‘Don’t be. Just keep going. Please.’

Why is that one word - six letters - making your breath hitch?

Gripping the top of the now open fly and pinning it against his body so you don’t accidentally see anything you’re not meant to see - whether you want to deliberately is a completely different matter - you hunker down and keep cutting along the zipper.

Each snip gets easier as the jeans release their death grip on him. The right side of the fly falls away as you cut, the denim peeling back slowly to expose the skin underneath. Your eyes drift to the curve of the pubic bone that’s now completely in view, and it’s taking everything you have to not lean over and run the broad of your tongue along it -

How long has it been since you’ve been with a man? When was the last time you had someone stand before you, pants unzipped and hanging open -

With tremendous fortitude, you tear your eyes away to check on him, ‘All good?’

The grunt of respite that he lets out is almost guttural, going straight between your legs. ‘Feels so fuckin’ good to breathe.’

‘Before I keep going, do you want to - uh - rearrange yourself?’

You expect him to turn around, or at least give you a second to turn around to give him some privacy, but he’s obviously been too deprived of oxygen to think straight. One big palm snakes down his front, right in your face, and he cups himself through the denim.

You stop breathing, eyes wide as he adjusts himself.

Holy fuck.

When he’s done, he gives you a thumbs up. ‘All good.’

This is it. You’re not making it out of this alive.

You can barely get the words out, your throat suddenly drier than sandpaper. ‘Can you, um, hold up the other side of the fly?’

When he does, you stare at his hand next to yours. How is it so big? The veins are prominent on the back, leading down to thick fingers, the nails neatly trimmed and clean - but you bet there’s residue gunpowder underneath.

There’s still a slither of skin peeking through the V of the fly as the scissors slice through the denim, following his happy trail. The lower you go, the thicker and darker the curls, and goddamnit - what is wrong with you - all you can think about is burying your nose right in there, nudging through the hair, lower and lower and lower still -

A sharp pain on your left finger makes you yelp, the scissors falling from your other hand to the floor with a loud clang. A small bead of blood wells up on the tip where the sharp blade nicked it, and in a panic, you let go of his jeans.

‘Shit,’ Joel curses and covers himself up quickly, his brow furrowed in concern. ‘You okay?’

You nod in embarrassment while you get on your feet. ‘I - my hand just slipped. It’s nothing, the smallest cut, I’m fine -’

Well, to be fair, you were fine - until he grabs your left wrist, brings your hand up to his face and sucks your bleeding fingertip into his mouth.

As if it’s the logical thing to do.

Your knees buckle, and you collapse into his front, but he doesn’t even budge, as if you weigh nothing. Taking a deep breath - wood smoke, simple soap and man fill your lungs. Peering up at him through your lashes, you spot the silver flanking the hinge of his jaw, leading down to a peculiar bare patch on the left side of his beard.

He watches you back as he releases your finger with a wet pop. Tracing his bottom lip with his tongue, he pronounces, ‘Just a small cut. You’ll live.’

Will you though? Because it feels like you’re on the verge of expiring from breathlessness.

He glances down at his front, which he’s still holding up. ‘I guess I can get out of these now.’

It takes you three seconds to catch up before you stumble backwards. ‘Yes, of course. Sorry.’

‘Thank you for freeing me,’ he says with a lopsided smile.

You duck your head, unable to meet his gaze all of a sudden - hypocrite, you had no problem perving on him a minute ago - and nod at the jeans on the table. ‘Why don’t you try those on?’

He clears his throat. ‘I, uh, should probably put on some underwear first.’

You barely manage to hold back from smacking yourself on the forehead. ‘Of course. We do have some in stock. Boxers or briefs?’

He looks amused. ‘What do you think, sweetheart?’

You hesitate, but you force yourself to be brave and venture a guess. ‘Boxers.’

He winks, and you grin back.

Joel hovers uncertainly in front of the mirror in the fitting room, having exhausted all the angles he can see twice, and wonders if he’s been dithering for too long. He’s not even sure what he’s looking at anymore, so he bites the bullet and draws back the curtain.

‘How do they feel?’ you ask.

He was counting on some hint from you, but you give nothing away. So he shrugs, hands on hips. ‘I honestly can’t tell you.’

‘May I?’

At his nod, you step into his space, and he watches as you hook your fingers into the belt loops on either side of the jeans and pull them up, as if gauging the size. He holds his breath as your hair grazes the front of his chest.

‘They’re a bit loose, to be honest,’ you tell him.

He scoffs self-decrepatingly. ‘Probably not for long at the rate I’m going.’

You take a step back and level him with a glare. ‘Stop it.’

He frowns, hackles rising. ‘What?’

‘Stop putting yourself down.’

That he didn’t expect. He protests, ‘I’m not putting myself down -’

‘Yes, yes, you are,’ you interrupt him with a boldness that has his eyebrows reaching for his hairline. With fire in your eyes, you go toe to toe with him, poking him in the chest with a firm finger. ‘You’re alive, you’re safe here, and you’re fit as hell. If you’re going to make fun of yourself for putting on a bit of healthy weight, you can go ahead and get out of my shop.’

Warmth blooms in his chest as Joel stares down at you, breathing heavily after your little speech but showing no intention of backing down. You don’t know him, but for some reason, you’re fighting his corner.

That shouldn’t feel as good as it does.

Pursing his lips, he towers over you as he teases, ‘You think I’m fit as hell, sweetheart?’

With a roll of your eyes, you walk backwards to the shelves, rummaging through the sizes before returning with a pair of dark wash jeans. You quip, ‘Don’t fish for compliments, it’s unbecoming.’

You snap the curtain shut in his face with a flick of your wrist before he can answer, and he chuckles to himself as pulls on the jeans you picked out for him.

When he pushes open the curtain again, Joel doesn’t miss the way you pause as you stare.

The waistband sits on his hips without cutting into his stomach, and he’s pleased that he can comfortably slide his hands into the pockets. The denim wraps firmly, but not tightly, against his backside, holding his thighs comfortably and falling straight down to the ankles. The wash is dark and flattering, smarter than his old ones.

When the silence has stretched on long enough, Joel shifts on his feet and asks, ‘Well?’

You turn the question back at him. ‘What do you think?’

He shrugs. ‘They’re alright, I guess.’

With a tilt of your head, you prompt, ‘You can say it, you know.’

‘Say what?’

‘You can say that you look good.’

Joel huffs, shaking his head and catching his reflection in the mirror as he does. At your look of insistence, he reluctantly parrots back, ‘Alright. I look good. Happy, sweetheart?’

Then you smile, really smile, and he feels himself soften - his eyes, his face, his mouth, his fucking old, rickety knees -

Suddenly, the bell over the door rings and a woman bustles in. ‘I’m so sorry, Pin! I know I’ve been gone a long time, but I got your favourite tea to make it up to you -’

She stops abruptly when she spots him. ‘Hey! You’re Joel Miller, aren’t you?’

Before he can answer, she crosses the shop in a bundle of energy, sticking her hand out. ‘I’m Lucy, I’m a friend of Tommy and Maria’s. It’s so nice to finally meet you.’

He lets her shake his hand, then she continues without skipping a beat. ‘How are you settling in? You got that house in the street near the stables right? It’s great, it’s quiet but not too far from everything -’

Since she doesn’t seem interested in his participation in this conversation, he doesn’t. But he notices, with regret, the way you start to retreat, the shyness making a return in the shadow of her clearly more outgoing friend - like a bad habit.

He’s suddenly aware of a lull, and that Lucy is looking at him expectantly, like she’s just asked a question that he didn’t hear.

‘Yeah sure,’ he replies dismissively, stopping you with a hand on your wrist just as you try to slink away unnoticed. ‘Hey, wait a second -’

To Lucy’s credit, she picks up on the snub and the energy between the two of you at the same time. Instead of taking offence, she gives you a knowing look and points towards the back diplomatically. ‘You know what Pin, I just bumped into Maria and she asked me something about our fabric inventory, so I better go check it out. I’ll see you around, Joel.’

With a wink in your direction, Lucy makes herself scarce, leaving the tea on the counter for you.

Joel’s quiet for a beat when you’re left alone again. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to run off your friend, but I just wanted to uh - thank you. For all this.’ He pauses, then adds, ‘Like she said, I’m Joel. Probably should’ve introduced myself before I asked you to cut me out of my jeans.’

You quip, ‘There’s always next time.’

He chuckles, and asks, ‘Did your friend just call you - Pin?’

‘It’s just a silly nickname,’ you explain. ‘As in pins and needles, for obvious reasons.’

Then you give him your real name and your hand, his palm warm and calloused against yours as he shakes it firmly. When he lets you go, you notice the watch on his wrist, the veins of broken glass on the face catching the light.

Nodding at it, you ask, ‘Do you need that fixed? There’s a repair guy down the road who can fix anything.’

Confused for a moment about what you’re referring to, Joel pauses before realisation dawns on him. His answer is suddenly polite, a stark contrast to the light-hearted conversation just now. ‘No, I - I like it this way. But thanks.’

You don’t miss the emotional weight behind his words, and the air thickens with unspoken meaning, but you know better than to ask.

‘I understand,’ you say simply.

Everyone has something like the watch is to him. God knows you do. A moment of quiet understanding passes between you, one that needs no words.

Breaking the silence, he says, ‘So, you mentioned I’ll need to trade in something else for these jeans -’

You dismiss that notion with a wave of your hand. ‘Oh no, it’s ok. I got it.’

‘You don’t have to -’

You shut him down. ‘It’s not a big deal, it will take me two minutes to replace the zipper.’

He hesitates. ‘And the boxers -’

Passing him his jacket, you insist, ‘Seriously, Joel, don’t worry about it.’

His fingers brush yours when he takes it from you and shrugs it on. You try not to look too conspicuously when the bottom of his shirt draws up, flashing a bit of tummy, but it’s gone too quickly. With a nod, he concedes reluctantly, ‘You really shouldn’t, but thank you. I owe you one.’

You roll your eyes with no real exasperation as you walk him towards the exit. ‘I know you haven’t been here for long - that’s just how things work around these parts. We do things for each other, you don’t owe me anything.’ Pulling the door open, you give him one last grin. ‘Welcome to Jackson, Joel.’

‘Thanks, Pin,’ he says as he crosses the threshold. He pauses on the porch and looks around the high street slowly, as if he’s taking it in for the first time. He then turns to you with a parting wink that is charged with easy confidence. ‘I think I’ll like it here.’

You linger by the door, leaning against the frame as he jogs down the front steps with a swagger, watching in appreciation at the way his new jeans frame his backside. You smile when he slides his hands into his pockets as he walks away, the afternoon breeze ruffling his curls and the sun warming his broad shoulders.

You think you’ll like him here as well.

Notes: As I was writing this, I couldn't help thinking that it reminded me of Grays 🙈 What can I say? I want to give middle-aged men in need of self-love all the reassurance that they need. I hope you enjoyed Pin and Joel's meet-cute, I'm honestly so nervous about this fic I had to stop myself from compulsively over-editing.

Thank you so much for reading! Comments and reblogs are appreciated as always 🥰

P.S. Apparently, there is a Main Street Outfitter in the game, so I ran with it.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

#tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller fic #joel miller imagine #joel miller oneshot

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planetsstarsandmoons · 7 months

Text

Synastry observations based on (personal) experience, part 5:

I’m back!!!! After months lmao

Moon opposite mars: a big ‘want’. Moon opposite mars is a story. It’s every romance movie/ romcom aspect, and i’ll tell you why. These people see in each other the potential of moon conjunct mars fullfillment that’s actually (way, but opinions differ ofc) better than the conjunction. That’s because in the opposition, each has something the other lacks. This can create for both people the ultimate romantic fullfilment when brought together by effort and acceptance of each other, and this promise is very hard to let go of. Typically, these are couples that fight a lot but find it very hard to let each other go once they know what they can have with each other, because it really is the best. Just think about it, even the thought of people putting conscious effort to be sweeter to one another is precious. That only creates a bond that’s very raw and very real (quoting jewelastrology here). Then combine that with the power of the mars and the moon and the friction of the opposition, keeping things interesting and keeping both parties learning more. You shouldn’t romanticise struggle in a relationship. Too much ‘work’ can just mean you aren’t compatible. THIS aspect is an exception. Just watch out for possible aggression. That’s never okay. One day I’ll make a seperate post about the amount of moon opposite mars couples in literature. The best I can think of now is Pride and Prejudice, with Mr Darcy being mars and Elizabeth Bennet being moon.

Venus twelfth house overlay: sorry y’all, in my personal experience, it’s true what they say. The twelfth house person has a hard time feeling this overlay on their side, or on a very subconscious level. I was the 12th house person. On one hand, I really ‘got it’ so to say but on the other hand, I don’t have a shitty clue of how he picked up on this ‘thing between us’ he thought or picked up on we had. That’s actually the big thing about this overlay. Don’t lose all hope, but you’ll have one person going “you knoww like there’s this thing between us...” and the 12th house person will be going: “what thing?” 😂 this can actually be nice because the 12th house person will get in touch with that subconscious twelfth housey part of themselves IF there are other nicely supporting aspects. Like the venus person’s venus to other stuff. They say a true connection is always mutual. I want to say to you all that don’t be surprised when a 12th house person in such an overlay is not ‘feeling’ this mutually. I literally wrote in my diary: “i might actually like him when it’s too late. Or just never lol i do not know.”

Update: I wrote this observation months ago in like april. It is now october and I’m starting to gain interest in him, albeit slowly and subconsciously, but, yeah 🤦‍♀️😂 i came back to this draft being like “WHATT?? Astrology had predicted this TOO for me???”

Moon trine pluto: you know when the fighting super intense troubled couple FINALLY gets together in this really intense and satisfying time when things are finally going the way they’re planned? Like an end all all good? That is this overlay, but constantly. On the outside, it’s the annoyingly passionate/emotional couple in a series that you don’t get because you haven’t seen them do any work to deserve this kind of intense fan-service scene. It’s because it lacked that kind of character development? It was me watching avengers infinity war with vision and wanda. I didn’t like the couple because i didn’t get it. I didn’t know their history i thought it was just some random very bland peaceful couple being very dramatic about each other all the time. Another example (i’m not shitting on this aspect i swear 😂) when a cartoon shows an example of a ‘romantic movie scene’ where the couple says “i loove you!!” And the other goes “oh bill!!” You don’t swoon because you’re like… okay. You get the oogies/ick because it’s like ‘ew that’s a couple’ anyways what I’m trying to say is that moon and pluto are not typical besties they’re supposed to be two problems kind of, they’re two very intense and bare planets, so harmonious flowing energy between them will feel kind of unsettling? Even. So these people will be kind of ‘gross’ with each other but in a soothing way. It’s how you imagine such a trine to be, but it plays out exactly like this irl too lmao! It feels bland on the outside because it’s always going well. And on the inside it plays in the background, because issues bring moon and pluto stuff to the foreground as a ‘theme’ in the relationship. So this aspect is also is the simple idea-of-a-passionate relationship. It’s the groaning “I’ll never let you go!!” Which doesn’t hit the same way for some people because there isn’t any drama or shit that happened before to deserve this pay off. However, some people loooove this aspect and by that I mean people in real life who like to have a secure and deep relationship where two hidden parts of people correspond and love each other well. This aspect is reaallly hard to let go of lol.

Sun conjunct mars: I call this the ‘spicy friends’ aspect. This is the aspect of two people who get into shenanigans together. I also see this aspect a lot with romantic couples who got together young, because it makes for boy-girl relations where the boy actually gets motivated by the person the girl is and the girl feels understood on the same level by the boy. They don’t get bored and so these people will forever get on or be aggravated by each other. It’s because these are two extremely conscious ‘in the moment’ planets so they easily fire off each other and it doesn’t take a lot of energy to have that interaction. Not in the plutonically karmic way, but in a personal way I currently cannot describe. No in between. It creates a bond that people can’t really get in between. You just have to let them stay friends/buds until they get sick of each other, and they may even repeat the process after that. Either way, this is an aspect that makes people get together fast ! Their conscious behaviour is accelerated by each other.

Sun conjunct venus: unlike mars, venus is a cold planet, which is totally okay in a synastry, only the interaction plays out a little different. Sun and venus don’t fire off each other. Their influence on each other is more passive and more ‘mental’. The sun, how basic it may sound, warms venus or even makes them burn. Venus gives the sun person chills. The venus person is responsible for the harmony and awesome functionality that this aspect brings. They will take a step back to fully adore and admire sun from afar sometimes. The sun will run to venus basically when it needs love and beauty and also a kind of sensibility that the sun person misses, like a puzzle piece. Sun brings heat and passion that the venus craves. These people will often crave for how the other person makes them feel. Venus typically loves every little thing the sun person does and the sun person is just taken by the venus person every single day. Think Oliver (venus) and Loretta (sun) from Only Murders In The Building. This aspect makes for real contentment in a relationship.

Mars in twelfth house synastry or composite: with this placement, you’re not even sure if the person is actually even attracted to you and if you’re making it all up in your head. This is also typically seen as a ‘synastry/composite of secrets’ which I wasn’t so sure about at the time I experienced this one myself, but now I realise, hey, that man actually had a girlfriend while he was giving me ‘special attention’ while holding back, with me being like ‘what could he mean what could he MEAN’ typical mars in twelfth scenario. One guy I had this with in composite was basically lying to me about his sex life and not having cheated on his previous girlfriend… and guess what… I had lied about my sexual history too 😭 I even thought to myself ‘why the f*ck did I lie that elaborately??? I didn’t even have to??’ But whatever, it’s the way of the worlds apparently 😂 but you see how this immediately creates distrust when it is not actually what we mean to do or coming from a place of disrespect. Oh and this aspect in composite also created months of us being like ‘🧍🏻‍♀️….🧍🏻‍♂️’ not normal sexual tension, but sexual tension we weren’t sure should be concreticised out loud or in action. We’d only kissed once Monthsss before which is basically nothing in western european student culture. It was like: “does this person know I’m still, in this moment, attracted to/like him/her? Am I making this all up in my head?”

Moon in the 8th house: a lot has been said about this aspect. Just a few things: intensity, yes. Either one will always be a significant person for the rest the person’s lives. It’s not nothing. It’s the basis of real all consuming love that’s a very rare and unique mix between total safety and total rush-like danger, which makes people think it’s a soulmate aspect. It’s actually not, imo, it’s a deeply (deeeeply) karmic aspect. It’s funny to see all the friends with benefits who have this aspect start out as “lol we don’t want a relationship” to “……. Lol nevermind” and end up together. They go back to each other because they’re simply too significant to each other. Fear of being vulnurable is also big on both so they either take that step or they’re just standing there forever. Mutual aspect, but it’s mutual in different ways. Truthfully, I don’t see this aspect so often in relationship charts. I see it with people who are in love with each other and aren’t together, or people who started out casual but still for some reason can’t let each other go after more than a year, or people who have had the roughest most obsessive breakup in history and ask me for advice. Often, people in relationships who have this aspect don’t come to astrologers for advice. They’re too ‘into’ one another to do that, I feel like.

Venus trine moon: cute cute cUTE because the venus loves reassuring the moon person with affection, which makes the moon person feel so safe and endorphined and warm. The moon person simply inspires that in venus! Great for a chart with more difficult aspects !

Moon conjunct jupiter: so if a guy is jupiter and the moon is a woman and they’re married, the woman doesn’t need to worry about jupiter feeling turned off from the relationship by her pregnancy. Moon is the feminine, the nurturer, the mother, jupiter adores and respects her. Jupiter inspires respect, optimism, friendships and all things serotonin. Jupiter will make the moon feel good. The kind of union where the guy will constantly declare how much he lovees her pregnancy glow ✨ the same goes ofc for lesbian relationships but since this is a cultural phenomenon i thought i might touch on it.

Moon opposite jupiter: i feel like this might be the opposite story :/ the girls motherhood and need for support and needs in general will just be the opposite to what the jupiter person finds ‘fun’ and joyful, BUT if they’ve made it this far in the relationship as to have a child together it should be okay. At least the cause of the behaviour would moreso be astrology, not misogyny.

Moon square jupiter: wife jokes, but the ones that are cute and funny.

Moon in third:

Being someone with a moon in third house be like: wow imagine going through something hard and not type 10k words in your notes app about it.

Having your moon overlay in someone’s third house be like: wow imagine going through something and not telling that person 10k words about it

Also: jupiter has such an underrated influence on us in astrology!! Jupiter radiates the most energy out of all the planets in our solar system and may be way more personal and influential than we think in astrology… And in synastry also it’s the MOON

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bunnycobie · 1 year

Text

best friend's brother - choi san

pairing: choi san x f!reader summary: when your night with your crush doesn't go to plan, you find comfort in the person you'd least expect genre: smut, some fluff, some angst word count: 3k content/tw: nonidol characters, college au, san has a sister named mina (not meant to be mina from twice), other random idol names are used, fingering, unprotected sex, drunk sex (don’t do this in real life) a/n: this may be a cringefest bc it was my first fic

18+ minors dni (masterlist)

you tap on jimin’s instagram story for an update on where he might be. he’s in a car with his friends, most likely on his way here. replaying the post over and over, you don’t realize how long you’ve been staring at his smile until you’re hit on the leg with a pillow, snapping you back into reality.

“are you even listening to me?” mina snaps. you grin and sit up against the pillows on her bed.

today is mina’s birthday, and she decided to throw a party at her house tonight. but even though she invited tons of people, she only cares about one guest. so much so, that she’s cycled through five different outfits just to look as good as possible.

“you look hot.” you say jokingly, grabbing and hugging the pillow she just threw at you. “jin is going to notice you, quit overthinking it.”

mina groans. “why aren’t they here yet?”

“they’re on their way right now, they’ll probably be here soon. can we please go now?” you whine. the party started almost an hour ago, but you’ve been waiting for your friend to finish getting ready.

“i just need a few more minutes. go ahead, i’ll find you later.” she says, looking in the mirror as she puts on a pair of earrings.

as you leave the room, your ears are instantly flooded with music despite the party only being downstairs. you head towards the bathroom and step inside to check your hair and makeup in the mirror.

you and mina invited jimin and jin to the party, and it’s the only thing you two have thought about all week. mina and jin are practically a thing at this point, but you can’t say the same for you and jimin. you’re always too nervous to hold a conversation with him. it’s nothing a little liquid courage can’t fix, though. you hope.

there’s a knock on the bathroom door. you open it expecting it to be mina. instead, you’re greeted by a large frame with silky black hair.

of course, it’s mina’s brother san.

despite being a player on campus, he’s really sweet and protective over you. presumably because you’re his sister’s friend. still, he’s always been respectful and never tried to make a move on you.

but you’ve definitely caught him staring once or twice, and youd be lying if you said you didn’t do the same.

“oh, hi y/n.” he examines your outfit, making you feel self-conscious. “i started to think i’d never see you guys come out of that room.”

“sorry,” you smile awkwardly, walking around him into the hallway. “she’s nervous about jin.”

“jin’s coming?”

“yeah, and jimin”. you reply.

san’s posture straightens. “so you actually like him?”

“i never said that.” you protest.

“i hear you guys all the time. you aren’t really discreet about it.” he smiles.

you can’t help but notice his dimples every time he does that. your relationship with him has only ever been platonic, but you’re almost always dumbfounded by his appearance.

“i mean, maybe. i can’t really tell if he feels the same way though.” you say, fidgeting with your hands.

san leans against the wall. “i wouldn’t waste my time on him,”.

“what? what do you mean?”

“i don’t like him. it doesn’t matter though; you can do better than him.”

who the hell does he think he is?

“you don’t even know him. why should i care what you think?” you say, furrowing your brows.

in reality, san knows jimin more than you’d thin. they’ve never been friends, but he’s spent enough time around him to know that he’s not worth dating.

san is well aware of his position in your life, but he still cares and doesn’t want to see you hurt. your words stung a little, but he wouldn’t let you know that.

san grins and lets out a soft chuckle that pisses you off a little.

mina’s bedroom door opens and she steps out in yet another outfit choice.

“it took you an hour to come up with that?” san says teasingly, gesturing to mina’s outfit.

mina’s eyes widen. “is it actually that bad?” she gaps.

“he’s joking.” you smile, despite the anger you felt a few seconds ago. “you look cute, can we go now?” you asked, grabbing mina’s hand and pulling her towards the stairs.

not only would she have actually changed her outfit again, but you would’ve done anything to get out of that situation. you’re an adult and can date whoever you want. why is san treating you like you’re his sister... or his girlfriend?

as you walk away with mina, you glance over your shoulder to see san still looking at you, except this time he’s more serious.

the party was open invitation, but you’re still surprised by the number of people that actually showed. you and mina grab two beers from the kitchen.

you feel a tug on your arm. “they’re over there!”. she points to jin and jimin sitting on a sofa with drinks and talking.

your stomach knots at the sight of jimin and you start to feel flustered. he looks so good you start to second guess your outfit just as much as mina did hers. you chug your drink, hoping the alcohol will set in soon.

mina laughs at your nervousness. “are you ready?”

“i think so –”

“hey guys!” mina yells over the music, interrupting you.

your heart drops even further than it already did.

jmin and jin look over as you and mina make your way to them. mina sits next to Jin, leaving you with no choice but to sit next to jimin on the opposite end. you were hoping Mina would be with you to ease the awkwardness, but that plan is instantly thrown out the window.

jimin turns his body towards you, and you start to wish you’d planned things to talk about.

“hey, you look nice.” he smiles.

“thank you.” you respond shyly. somehow you feel even more self-conscious despite the compliment.

“i haven’t seen you in class lately.” you mention, hoping your awkwardness doesn’t show.

“oh. i’ve been kind of focused on my music lately. i’m actually considering switching majors.” he says.

he continues speaking but as you glance around your attention is caught by san across the room.

he’s looking directly at you, while a girl is holding his arm and laughing. he’s pretending to listen, but he’s watching you and jimin. you can’t seem to break the eye contact, as if your eyes are glued to him.

you realize you’re mid conversation and shift your focus back on jimin, who’s still talking about himself.

“i think that’s great.” you smile at him, unknowing of what he spent the last 30 seconds talking about.

“y/n, can I borrow you for a sec?” mina leans forward into your gaze.

you nod. “sorry, one second.” you excuse yourself from the conversation and follow mina as she pulls you aside.

“jin and i are going to my room; are you gonna be fine on your own?” she asks lowly.

“what? you’re sleeping with jin already?” you exclaim.

mina shushes you and looks around the room as if anyone could’ve heard you over the music.

“i don’t know, probably.” she says, grinning like an idiot.

“i’ll be fine. be safe.” you smile.

she nods and waves over jin, and he follows her upstairs

you make your way over to where you previously were but realize jimin is gone. you scan the room for him but can’t find him. you start to regret letting mina go and feel awkward all over again. you look around for a familiar face and see san, still talking to the same girl and clearly uninterested. you find chaewon and yunjin and join them for a while.

almost two hours pass while you’re busy getting drunk and dancing.

mina comes back with jin, but you’ve been so caught up that you forgot about them and jimin.

“hey.” you almost cringe realizing what they might have just finished doing.

mina grins and rolls her eyes. “where’s jimin?”

you shrug. “he left after you guys did”

“that’s weird,” jin says.

“i’ll go look for him.”

you scan downstairs one more time, but he’s still nowhere to be seen. you realize the party extended to the patio and open the door to check outside.

you find him, but you’re practically frozen in place when you do. he’s sitting next to a pretty blonde girl, kissing and feeling her up. you start to feel sick. you know that the two of you weren’t exclusive, but you still had hope there would be something between you. you’ve been obsessed with him for months and the one night you decided to make a move, the universe betrays you. the embarrassment starts to set in when you realize practically everyone knew about your crush as well.

you can’t watch any longer, and head back inside. you don’t feel like looking for mina. you don’t want to ruin her birthday by forcing her to comfort you. you’re too ashamed to admit what happened, anyways. you’re too drunk to walk or drive home, so you go to mina’s bedroom to wait for the rest of the night.

you open the door to her bedroom but the unmade bed reminds you of what just happened in it. and as disgusting as you feel, you’d rather not fall asleep on a bed full of sweat and god knows what else.

standing in the hallway, you start to feel the frustration set in and tears begin to well in your eyes.

you hear heavy footsteps on the stairs and immediately wipe your tears.

you don’t know whether to be grateful or upset over the fact that it’s san. as soon as you see his face, you’re reminded of the situation from earlier. and the last thing you want is to hear an “i-told-you-so”.

“what’s wrong?” he says, noticing your expression.

“nothing.” you reply, trying to contain yourself.

“why were you crying then?” he approaches you, practically trapping you in between him and the wall.

“i’m just tired.” you lie, looking down hoping to avoid eye contact.

“don’t lie to me,” san says, lifting your chin.

“did he do something to you?” he’s more intimate this time, and you realize you won’t get anywhere by hiding the truth.

“you were right.” you admit, removing his hand from your face. you start to feel the shame overwhelm you again

san sighs and looks around the hallway to make sure you were alone.

“are you happy?” you continued.

“of course i’m not happy,” san says, offended by the accusation. “you’ve had too much to drink. let’s just get you to bed, okay?”

you know he didn’t do anything wrong. none of this was his fault. to be fair, he did warn you. you weren’t mad at san, but you were overwhelmed and didn’t know what else to do. so, you took it out on him.

“you’ve been watching me like a creep all night waiting for something to go wrong. now you want to pretend you feel bad and take care of me?” you snap.

san sucks his teeth and grabs your wrist. pulling you to his bedroom, he shuts the door behind him and leans against it.

“can you calm down?” he asks in annoyance, folding his arms.

you start pacing out of frustration, trying to keep yourself from breaking down.

“he’s not worth crying over, y/n. I told you that you could do better than him.” he says, pulling you back to him. he snakes one hand around your waist and starts wiping your tears with the other.

something about his presence makes you feel safe. he makes you feel like you could cry if you needed to, but how could you when you’re around him? the realization that your body is pressed against his starts to set in.

you always knew san was good-looking, but something about the way he’s letting you be vulnerable with him makes him so much more attractive. he looked unreal, yet somehow, he was standing right in front of you.

you must have been staring for a while because his expression darkens. his thumb that was just wiping your tears starts to brush softly over your lips. you feel like you’re going to pass out from the way he’s staring at your face, studying you.

san’s lips press against yours and his arms wrap around your waist. you reach over his wide shoulders and around his neck as he pulls your body closer to his. each kiss begins deepen, with small moans escaping your throat. and as passionate as they are, his lips are still so soft and careful with yours.

san’s lips move from yours to your neck, and he’s holding you as if you’d slip away once he lets go.

you can feel warmth pooling in between your legs, making your legs go numb. he sweeps you up and moves his focus back to your lips as he carries you to his bed. laying you on your back, he hovers over you between your legs, slipping his tongue into your mouth.

you let out a moan as reassurance for him to continue, so he slides his hand under your top. he squeezes and massages your breast, causing you to let out whines involuntarily.

“does that feel good?” he groans against your neck. you can feel him smiling against you, giving you chills in the best way possible.

you manage to let out a soft whiny “yes.”.

“i’m gonna make you feel so much better.” he promises. he plants a soft kiss against your collarbone before shifting his hand between your legs.

he circles his thumb against the outside of your panties, feeling the damp spots he caused. each feeling of him hitting your clit makes your breath hitch.

“fuck.” he groans. “my baby is so good and wet for me.” he moans, teasing you with his fingers.

you prop yourself up on your elbows, your forehead against his.

“could you please?” you plead softly.

“could I what? use your words, baby.” he teases, pushing more pressure onto your clit.

“fingers, please.” you babble, your head falling back from the sensitivity.

“you want me to fuck you with my fingers?” san smirks.

“mm-hmm.” you whine.

san pulls your panties to the side and pushes his thick finger in slowly, earning a whimper from you.

he can feel his cock growing feeling the warmth of you, wishing it was inside of you instead. the sound of his fingers slipping inside of you are audible from the wetness.

san can feel himself swelling up and leaking from the anticipation, but he wants to take his time with you. he loves the sight of you moaning and whining under his control with your head held back.

he pulls your head in by the back of your neck and snakes his tongue in your mouth while curling his fingers to reach your gspot. his tongue is warm and wet, and you feel yourself getting dizzy and falling apart.

“i’m gonna cum.” you manage to breathe out.

“wait a little longer for me,” san says, pulling his fingers out of your heat and kissing you before standing up.

he pulls his shirt off revealing his bare chest and smooth, toned skin. he’s practically sweating from the anticipation, making his abs and biceps look even more glossy. he looks like a greek god.

unzipping his pants and removing the rest of his clothes, his swollen cock reveals itself, already wet and leaking from the tip.

he pushes you back down and lets you wrap your legs around his waist.

rubbing his tip against your sensitive clit, he inserts himself, making you gasp. the feeling you felt from his finger was almost nothing compared to the size of him inside of you.

he groans at the feeling of you wrapped around and squeezing him and wastes no time before speeding up his pace. your moans can’t help but get louder, and he has to cover your mouth with his just in case someone may hear you whine.

he moves fast yet softly as if he doesn’t want to hurt you. still, the feeling of him inside of you is enough to make your eyes water. you feel your sensitivity from being edged earlier come back, and you’re close to your high all over again.

“i wish i could do this with you forever” he moans.

his pace starts to get sloppy, letting you know he’s close to finishing. you feel a wave of ecstasy take over your body as san releases inside of you, leaving you dripping. the two of you moan over the feeling of finishing on each other.

san collapses next to you as you both catch your breath. he gets up and slips on clothes to leave the room. you lay in confusion for a minute until he comes back with a warm towel.

he cleans you up and gives you one of his clean t-shirts to wear to sleep. you try to hide your smile from the thought of him being so sweet to you. when you put the shirt on, he falls in love at the sight of it being so big on you. he’s not super tall, but his muscles are enough to warrant his shirts being huge. san wraps his arms around you and gives you another kiss, but this time it feels more loving than the rest.

“do you feel better now?” he asks, embracing you.

you’d forgotten about what led to this in the first place. but you didn’t care enough to remember because you were in love with someone else now.

#choi san #choi san x reader #san ateez #ateez smut #jimin angst #bts jimin #ateez fluff #ateez angst #mingi smut #seonghwa smut #hongjoong smut #yunho smut #jongho smut #yeosang smut #wooyoung smut #ateez fanfic #choi san fanfic

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ma1dita · 3 months

Text

if you need to be mean (be mean to me)

a ‘partners in crime’ installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: 1.5k

summary: (established relationship) The one where he leaves before you wake up. You and Luke both can't ignore what's in front of you—and both of you feel guilty leading up to that night (Luke Castellan x dionysus!reader)

warnings: suggestive mdni if you’re uncomfortable – nondescript mentions of sex

a/n: someones gotta take mitski away from the pjo editors for fucks sake. yes, this is based off of ‘i don’t smoke’ (audiotree live) don’t look at me.

(posted 1/30/24 thanks to my betas ellie and lari @lixzey & @mrsaluado )

'lovers, or partners in crime' comes directly after

___

[ you come down and tell me, “i was meant for you”, baby || being with you makes the flame burn good ]

Your father once told you when you were younger that you were a divining rod for mayhem; you attract it, cause it, and in very few instances, you are the cure. It’s why your roles and responsibilities at camp hid you away from your full potential, and Luke knew you could achieve greatness if you left with him. He understood your madness more than you’ll ever know, and saw you for what you are–his cure. But he made his choice long before he recognized his devotion to you, distancing himself in order to fulfill his plans of waging war against the gods. Sweet and sultry words slip from his lips to distract you from the growing distance of his heart from yours. A distraction is what he’s always been, and he’s good at playing the part. After all, everything he’s learned about deception and acting, he’s picked up from you.

The guilt still sits heavy in his heart as he watches you walk around your bedroom the night before he leaves. Luke’s wondered if there’s any way he can convince you to come with him, but he knows your heart is softer than his, more forgiving. He thinks his damnation is past forgiveness anyway.

You trod over to meet him on your bed, hands full of moisturizer as you climb onto his lap and you look so willing and pliant to whatever he’ll say next. Luke knows you’ve been extra gentle with him lately, and it makes him sigh. This would be easier if you hated each other. But that’s the farthest thing from the truth.

Soft hands rub the moisturizer into his skin, delicately caressing his scar, and when he opens his eyes again, you’re smiling and looking how he wants to remember you. His lovely girl, who holds his rage like someone should’ve held his 9-year-old self running away from home. His hands settle around your hips, holding onto you until he can’t anymore and Luke wonders if there was any prophecy out there that could’ve told him that he’d always be running home to you. He just has to take the long way home this time.

By morning, you might not look at him with this much love, and he’s not even sure you’ll forgive him, so he pulls you into a kiss so deep that even Kronos’s attacks on his mind can’t pull him away.

“Mmmm,” you moan, gasping for air as he continues the assault down your neck, marking you with his lips so you have something to remember him by, “Not that I’m complaining, but what’s gotten into you, angelface?” If only you knew.

“Can’t help it baby, you’ve got a face I’d go to war for,” he mutters, pressing another kiss to your lips, “and a heart I’d die for.” He’s smiling into your cheek, but his expression falters for a moment when you look into his golden-flecked eyes.

Maybe you know more than you let on, awareness cognizant in your features. The jig is up, and he’s ready for you to call him out on it—but a half smile falls upon your face instead, and for some reason, this feels like the inevitable goodbye. There was never much you two could hide from each other after all.

“I know it’s been hard lately, Luke. But let me take your pain away. Please,” and it sounds almost like you’re begging.

The both of you are a little guilty tonight, hearts heavy and conscious of what this means for the both of you, hoping that your actions will suffice as the coercion, the explanation, the apology— instead of the unspoken truth that will come to light when you wake.

___

[ if you need to be mean, be mean to me || i can take it and put it inside of me ]

Both of you are more desperate tonight, bodies moving languidly like you have all the time in the world. It’s a conversation in itself as he ruts into you, trying to stuff you to the brim so you won’t forget what it’s like to feel him in your bones.

‘Promise you’ll remember me.’

Here, in the confines of cabin 12, you are his alone, and there are no gods or monsters that can take away the feeling of you from under his fingertips. Yours are grasping onto his arms, leaving crescent-shaped indents as you will away whatever’s eating at his brain, and through the golden glint of his irises, for a moment he looks like himself again, unburdened and soft.

‘Is there any other way?’

He’s convinced your wanton moans are his salvation, legs thrown over his shoulders, and his name in your mouth. You’re hanging onto him for dear life as he melts into you, and you wonder if you hold on any tighter, maybe this won’t have to end. But the both of you are chasing an inescapable conclusion, obstructing any thoughts or words with another tangle of your lips.

‘I don’t know how to be without you.’

Tongues clashing like swords for one last battle, and there’s no winner at the end of this one, no matter how good it feels.

“Luke, p-please!”

The scream rattles your throat and his fingers graze your pulsepoint as he moans lowly, watching your eyes roll back. It’s undetermined what you’re asking for, but the both of you bask in what comes after, him falling into your embrace as you writhe at the thought of wondering if this is the only glory you can offer him and if it’s enough to satiate his inherent need for revenge.

‘How do you expect me to forget you?’

___

[ if your hands need to break more than trinkets in your room || you can lean on my arm as you break my heart || just don’t leave me alone wondering where you are ]

'You could fix him.'

The thought echoes as loudly as Kronos’ orders recalibrate in his brain the edges blurred from your powers, and he stares up at the glow-in-the-dark stars on your ceiling as he lets out a deep breath.

His mind is clearer than it’s been in months, and his gaze turns to see you watching him, messy hair framing your sleepy face. Your eyelids flutter slowly as you both take each other in, immortalizing this moment with both of you hoping the other will change their mind. Luke pulls your hand to his lips, kissing each of your fingertips before holding it over his heart. If there was anything else you could do to extract his madness, you’ve already exhausted all your efforts. And if there was a way to make you see his perspective, he’s run out of words to convince you. Both of you are stubborn and more like your fathers than you care to admit; what a shame that neither of you has the power to prove them wrong. The fear is the only thing keeping you both awake now. If you close your eyes, you might never see him again.

“You need to rest now, baby. Think I’m gonna stay up for a little while longer,” Luke whispers into the dim light.

“Are you gonna stay here tonight?” The words slur from your lips as you fight the weight of your eyelids, desperate for a moment longer with your lover. You hope that even as you lose consciousness you’ll still be able to finish the job for his sake.

“There’s nowhere else I’d be, trouble.”

___

[ i am stronger than you give me credit for ]

As soon as he’s sure you’re asleep, he lifts your hand off his heart and sneaks out from under your covers without a sound. Pulling his clothes on and grabbing his converse, Luke makes sure there’s no trace left of him here. It’ll be easier for you when you wake up, less of his mess to pick up after. He looks around your room and admires how it’s a museum of your relationship—a liberty he was never able to have or fully share with you in cabin 11.

Surely that’s the gods’ fault too, that he’s never had anything to call his own besides you and the space you share with him wholeheartedly. His fingers hover over the photos of you two tacked to your bulletin board, and the flowers he picked from the field sitting in a vase. Luke turns to you, creeping to your sleeping figure, and tucks you in properly under the duvet, hands seamlessly making his side of the bed. He tries to ignore your outstretched hand resting on his pillow.

At the very least, Luke hopes you know that he cares for you so meticulously in this way, knowing that he’s about to lose himself as soon as he walks off the campgrounds. He hovers over the foot of your bed, inhaling the scent of berries and linen for one last time.

“It’s you and me, trouble. I love you.”

Every step he takes towards the door and down the stairs of your loft is a nail in his coffin.

Luke chooses to wage war upon the world so that when you find him again, he’ll be a better man.

A hero.

All for you.

He just hopes that he can see it through.

___

“To make her happy, I would invent God if I had to.” -Marguerite Duras

next part: lovers, or partners in crime

ask to be added to general/luke taglists!

luke taglist (struck out won't let me tag, turn on my post notifs?): @kissingyourgrl @dorcas4meadowes @lorarri @andrewgarfldsgf @noodlesketchbook @10ava01 @poppysrin @ashisabitgay @timhalamet @liv1104 @leeknows-wife @mxtokko @bugcuti3 @luvvfromme @midmourn @2hiigh2cry @yuminako @niktwazny303 @lukecastellandefender @intergalactic-padawan @iliketopgun @annybah @dangelnleif @thegrinningghost @alyssajunelle @obxstiles @m00ng4z3r @visndcaitswhore @b0ok-lover @elegant-face-tree @this-barbie-is-having-breakdowns @amortencjja @idonevenknow1359 @maliaaaa @targaryenluvs @sakyira @dhdjdjjdhsjdiri @number-onekidqueen @nininehaaa @bradynoonswife @stevenknightmarc @hoodedhavok @happy-mushrooms @homebyeleven @anotherblackreader @too-deviant @liviessun @lilacspider @theadventuresofanartist @sucker4seresin @simpforsunwoo @zanzie @starrystormwritings

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x dionysus!reader #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo x reader #pjo imagine #luke castellan angst #made by ma1dita ♥︎#trouble!verse #thank you for reading my love ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

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empresskylo · 3 months

Note

I’m begging for you to write about virgin!Ghost and virgin!reader,lots of love 🩷x

virgin!simon 'ghost' riley x virgin!afab!reader

a/n: this truly spoke to me, so thank you for this. i wanted to write a pathetic, nervous ghost, but decided to write him how i actually think he'd act if he was a virgin.

warnings: mentions of SA (reference to ghost's past as mentioned in his comics where he is SA'd); smut

cod masterlist

Who would ever think Simon Riley was a virgin?!

I mean look at the man!! Rough and assertive. A lieutenant who everyone is afraid of. Easily in his mid-to-late thirties. Crude with his jokes. A damn war criminal. Why would anyone in their right mind assume he was a virgin?

Except that wasn’t the whole picture. Simon stood witness to how his dad treated women when he was younger. Saw the way he mistreated sex workers. And Simon didn’t want to become like his father, so he ended up distancing himself from girls his age, afraid it might be in his genetics to be shitty. And he watched his “friend” almost assault a woman once—Simon was disturbed, desperate to not emulate that. And not to mention he was big and scary, he was worried he’d frighten women, so he just avoided them for the most part. And when he was sexually assaulted, he thought maybe sex just wasn’t for him.

And now he was older. Too old to be a virgin, he thought. He wasn’t a self-conscious man, but he didn’t want to disappoint anyone in bed either, so the more he put it off, the more he didn’t want to do it all together. He also found it hard to form relationships in his line of work, and he refused to pay for sex.

So, by his mid-thirties, he was still a virgin.

Then he met you and it felt so easy being with you. He felt himself wanting to grind against you the first time you kissed—that's when he realized how depraved he had been for so long, he didn’t realize how much he was truly missing.

And one night, after you and him had been a thing for a little while, you finally got the nerves to kiss him and straddle his lap. His hands naturally found your waist and he ran them up and down your sides, gently squeezing your flesh above your clothes.

Then you pulled back, looking down a bit shyly.

“What’s a’matta?” he asked you, his hands still firmly gripped on your hips.

“I, uhm,” you stuttered. “I’ve never done this before.” There, you finally said it. You were so worried Simon would become awkward when you told him, what if he didn’t want to be with someone so inexperienced? And you didn’t know if he was going to be uncomfortable with the idea of being your first time—that maybe he didn’t want that responsibility.

His hand slid up and nudged your chin to look at him. Simon was already planning to go as far as you’d let him, and he had decided he wasn’t going to tell you he had never done this before. If you said he was bad in bed, he’d apologize and lie, saying it had just been a long time since he’d been laid. But then you admitted you were in the same boat as him (aside from the fact that you were much younger than him.)

“Me neither,” he admitted.

Your eyes met his and you cracked the smallest of grins. “Don’t make fun of me!”

He tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. “M’not.”

You blinked at him. “R-Really?”

He chuckled. “Never really had the opportunity, I’suppose.” That was the short version.

“Oh.”

You squirmed on top of him and he groaned. “That, uhm. Makes me a little less embarrassed.” Your eyes averted his.

Before you could ramble more about it, Simon jerked your head down to kiss him. “Happy to help.”

You smiled against his lips and Simon gripped your hips tightly in his hands, pulling you down against him. You would have thought he’d be a little more reserved, awkward even, having never had done this before. But Simon Riley was a confident man. He was self-assured. Bold. Fearless. And he wasn’t going to let his lack of experience hinder the potential between the two of you.

You gasped, feeling how hard he was in his pants as he yanked you against him. He hummed against your lips, the softness of them making him imagine what they might feel like wrapped around his cock.

When you whimpered in the back of your throat, Simon was quick to twist you around and lay you flat on your back on the couch. He bullied himself between your legs and refused to let you catch your breath before his lips were back on yours.

“Please,” he begged pathetically, pawing at the hem of your shirt.

You gave him room and he stripped you quickly, clearly enthusiastic about having you naked beneath him. You clawed at his shirt and he was more than happy to oblige, tearing it over his chest and unbuckling his pants.

Your knees had come together as you watched him strip and he smirked. His hands slid along your calf before pulling your legs apart and weaseling his way back to where he was. He kissed you again, both of you anticipating what was to come, but nervous at the same time.

You bucked your hips up as his hands traced your bare side. He broke the kiss. “Want me t’touch you, love?”

You nodded your head, your face warming. His hand snaked its way between your bodies, tracing the apex of your thighs and rubbing against you. “L-Lower,” you gasped. His fingers shifted and you couldn’t constrain the moan.

“There?” He asked you, tilting his head as he admired your wanton expression.

Your breathing hitched when his fingers found your entrance. “Jus’ tell me if you want me t’stop,” he whispered against your lips.

When you said nothing in response, he pushed one finger inside you. You squeezed around him tightly, your body trying to push him back out. You arched your back off the couch as he shoved his finger all the way inside of you. He began to pump his fingers, you were already soaking for him.

He watched you intently, the obscene noises from his fingers shifting inside you making him harder than he thought possible. It was also making him blush and causing his heart to race. His fingers might have trembled slightly if they weren’t buried inside you, busy at work. Your eyes locked with his, your brows furrowing, feeling him slide another finger in along the first. He was a bit clumsy as he worked you, but it felt good just the same.

“My god,” you gasped.

Simon groaned when you clenched tightly around his two fingers, imagining how that would feel around his cock instead.

“Sound so pretty,” he cooed.

Your arms grasped at his biceps, your hips rising to meet each pump of his fingers. “Want you inside me,” you whimpered.

Simon clicked his tongue. “Already inside you, love,” he teased, curing his fingers upwards as if to say, see.

You pouted, your body jolting with electricity from the deep baritone of his voice. His fingers stretched you out plenty, you weren’t sure how he was supposed to fit inside you… but you wanted to find out. You wanted to feel the pressure of his throbbing cock. You wanted to watch him grunt and groan with pleasure above you. You almost wished he would come prematurely, too drunk from fucking you to keep himself together. You were the first person he was going to fuck and a strange swell of satisfaction filled your already racing chest.

“Si-Simon,” you whined.

He smirked before slipping his fingers out of you. You watched through half-lidded eyes as he sucked the wetness from his fingers, his eyes darkening and never breaking contact from yours.

“Want me t’fuck you, sweet girl?” he asked, gripping his cock in his fist and giving it a few pumps.

You watched and swallowed before letting out a pathetic, “Yes.”

He fell back on top of you, his hands on either side of your head, his knees bent on the couch as he settled himself between you. You shifted your hips to give him a better angle as he lined himself up with you. You both watched as he moved himself between your bodies. “Tell me if I’m hurtin’ ya.”

Before you had a chance to respond, Simon was pushing the head of his cock inside of you. He was a bit rough when he entered you—a bit jittery and weak with anticipation—though he tried desperately not to be. You squeezed your eyes shut, your nails digging into his biceps. Simon groaned, edging himself in a little at a time. “You okay, baby?” He asked you.

Your eyes fluttered open and you gave a hesitant nod. “Yes. Keep going.”

His thumb stroked your cheek then brushed over your bottom lip. Your fingers slid up his back, dancing over the corded muscle and scars under your fingertips. Simon edged himself in, then out, and repeated that until he could finally seat himself fully inside you. Your thighs clamped around his waist, wanting to stop the intrusion on instinct.

“M’ all in,” he told you, his breath airy like he had just run a mile.

“Oh, thank god,” you said exasperated.

Simon chuckled, the deepness of his voice vibrating through his chest and across yours.

“Can I move?” He asked you.

You swallowed, the stinging between your thighs subduing. You nodded. Simon leaned down to kiss you, his dog tag dragging across your chest, the cool metal warming. Your lips parted, his own moving against yours. Simon devoured the gasp you slid into the kiss when he pulled out halfway. He pushed himself back in and you groaned, a small whimper forming in the back of your throat. He grabbed your thigh, hiking it up slightly so he could get a better angle.

He continued to thrust inside you, only pulling out halfway each time, before struggling to push himself back in. He kept at a slightly awkward rhythm, grunts slipping past his lips and ghosting across yours. His head slid into the crook of your neck, your nails digging into his back, but Simon could barely feel that. All he was focusing on was how heavenly you found surrounding him.

“Shit,” he moaned, surprised at how fast he was approaching the end. Simon knew that plenty of men struggled to get off the first time from sheer nerves. Others lasted barely any time at all. But he also knew women seemed to struggle the first time, not even expecting to orgasm until much later down the line.

Simon wasn’t going to let that happen. He slowed his pace, only doing small little thrusts, his hips rolling against yours, pushing you back into the mattress. His hand snaked between your bodies, finding your clit, and rubbing circles. You arched your hips up to get him to touch you at a better spot and you mewled.

“Close?” he beckoned.

Surprisingly, you were. You hadn’t thought you’d actually get this close to orgasming your first time. You thought you’d be a ball of self-conscious nerves. But with Simon, you felt comfortable. Relaxed. Excited. Beautiful. And the way his fingers were putting pressure between your legs was making you see stars.

He continued his small pumps, wanting to focus on you more than himself, but he couldn’t help but growl in the back of his throat, your warmth tightening around him.

His movements grew more rapid and you cried out his name. He cursed, feeling you spasm around him as he led you into your climax, his final ruts sending you over the edge. You finally clenched down so hard, Simon had to pull out, rubbing himself against your clit and coming onto your stomach.

He groaned, “Fuckin’ hell.”

You were panting, your chest rising and falling in rapid beats. It took you both a moment to collect yourselves. He stared down between your bodies, taking in the sight. Now that you weren’t in the heat of the moment, you suddenly felt self-conscious, all too aware of the way your entire body was laid bare to him.

Your hand shifted to cover your chest and he clicked his tongue. “You’re so fuckin’ gorgeous, love.”

Your chest swooned from his admiration. He quickly leaned over to grab his t-shirt to clean you off. You felt your face warm before he scooped you up into his arms, ready to carry you to the bathroom.

“Good?” He asked.

A simple question. But one he needed to hear the answer to.

“Perfect.”

Simon grinned, trying to suppress his teeth from showing, but he couldn’t help it. He tucked you closer into his chest as he marched you both to the bathroom.

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moumouton4 · 7 months

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I Can Make You Forget Him || Itachi Uchiha x fem!reader

A/n : Prompt 28 of the Smutember 2023 ( 2 more prompts to go yayyy 😍🔥 ) Finally able to use THIS POST I did a long while ago 👀

The list of prompts is HERE

Smutember 2023 Masterlist ⚜

Warnings : mention of Kakashi, soft loving vanilla sex, mention of marking, mention of pregnancy, 18+ READERS ONLY and wrap it before you tap it

Masterlist ⚜

I don’t give permission to repost my work, if you want to share it just reblogue it

Word count : 1343

Every man would have been self-conscious if they had known they would one day be dating Kakashi's Hatake ex girlfriend. But not him. The Uchiha just knew who he was and what he was capable of. With such a lineage he couldn’t fail. And he has known enough of Kakashi to know that in several domains he beat him flat on the neck.

It was the beginning of your relationship and even if you didn’t say anything that would hint at that, he could sense that you were still thinking about him. He didn’t blame you for this. After all, you had dated the copy ninja for about 2 years and now you had to restart a new relationship from the bottom and with a rogue ninja - even if you choose both conditions to get with the latter - that you had known since your childhood.

He could see that you missed him and it hurt, quite a lot actually but he couldn't say it out loud. He had to be strong for you, even if by his rogue status he couldn't stay as much as he would have wanted at your side in the village. This played a huge role in your current sadness. You weren’t always sad per se but sometimes you’d stare a bit too long in the void and sigh loudly as if you’d just ran a marathon. That led him to take a big decision, one that could be dangerous for him but one that was going to play a huge role in his plan to make you forget him : he was going to stay in Konoha, undercovered but for as long as you need to forget Kakashi Hatake and see him and only him Itachi Uchiha.

You were so shocked when he had told you that he was going to stay with you for some time in the village. You knew it was risqué for him though since you had seen him again when he first officially came back to Konoha, you had him under your skin, and even if you looked depressed sometimes you couldn't get enough of him.

To be better than his now called rival he had to be creative. Indeed the latter brought you flowers sometimes, took you out and made you breakfast. Itachi could do all these as well and divinely. He tried to do multiple things, taking you picnic, spreading quality time with you reading or cooking and even cuddling. He knew Kakashi surely had done those too but it didn’t deter him from trying to do even better ( if we really think about it just him being a rogue ninja and being there for you in the village is more than Kakashi ever did )

In opposition to Kakashi though there was one thing that really changed and it was the fact that Itachi actually spoke to you. Like for him it was way easier to speak to you about his feelings, what he wanted, what he felt about things, than it was for Kakashi who would always change subjects or leave a blank in your conversations, giving you a smile you could guess played apologetically in his lips under his mask.

It was one of these days while you were cuddling close under his Akatsuki robe, his head in the crook of your neck as if there nothing could reach him, that he whispered you those 3 little words, the one you were waiting for so long, the one Kakahsi never dared to muster you in 2 full years. tears built up in your eyes and when he heard you sniffle Itachi raised his head up and looked at you. His one caring but warning as he gazed into your teary eyes “Ssh I don’t want your eyes to shed a single tear for anyone from now one, not for him and not even for me” he held you even more tightly as if the simple act was making sure you’d never be saddened by anyone on this planet.

But he knew he needed to do more, always more to show you that you didn’t lose anything by breaking up with Kakashi, that in fact you won everything by getting with him instead. His hands slowly trailed along your body, feeling and brushing against each one of your curves. His expression reverent as he looked deeply into your eyes, as if asking if you’d one more time let him touch you in ways only he could. If you’d want him to be one with you one more night. And to his utmost delight you said yes, giving your consent to the raven haired man.

He kissed every inch of your skin, worshiping each part of you as he slowly, languidly undressed you. It was during moments like this he would get a bit possessive of you, his Uchiha genes surely playing a role in this subtle change of behavior. His eyes looked more hungry and his grip tightened oh so carefully as he handled you as his own, because you were nothing less for him than utterly his.

Finally as he gently entered you, a low groan escaped his lips, a reminder of the trust and shared intimacy that had grown between you. You could feel his love for you in each subtle movement he made, each careful thrust and twist of his hips “You’ll see that I can make you forget him” he breathed against the side of your neck, where he was giving you a love bite that would surely need a few days before fading. You could only moan at his words as he kept dragging his length in and out of you. Your nails grazed his back marking him in your own way as the pleasure built in your lower abdomen.

As if fueled by your reactions to his ministrations he couldn't help but add “I can be a better boyfriend than him. I know I can and I will” his voice overflowed with confidence as he knew he had everything in himself to be better than his rival.

He looked so hot when he was confident like this, your mouth opened and he crashed his lips against yours collecting all yours sweet sounds. His tongue sought yours before entangling in a sensual dance. You were so close and he knew he wasn’t going to hold on much longer. But still, he needed you to come first.

You were on the pill so cuming inside you and painting your walls with his white sticky load wouldn’t be a problem. After this was done and you once again being even more his than before you laid there entangled in each other's arms. His fingers drew patterns on your bare back as he pondered. It was certain that he couldn't stay in Konohagakure forever. At some point you’d have to leave and go settle in another village far away from here. But at this moment, in your arms, feeling your breath fanning against his chest he knew it wasn’t something to bother with yet.

Though when you looked him in the eyes, as if you heard his thoughts, it just seemed that you e/c orbs were reassuring him about your undying fidelity, regardless of where it could lead you. He hummed appreciatively and leaned in, leaving a soft, long and filled with kiss on your forehead. There was one thing he was also eager to give you when the right time would come, something Kakashi never ever thought of addressing you with.

He smiled as his nail polished hand gently rubbed on your stomach, when you’d be far away from here and you’d stop taking your pill, he was willing to offer you a gift that nature keeps fiercely secret. He smiled dreamily at the thought of you carrying a little baby Uchiha. You would be able to move on definitely if you already didn’t have before ( but he is not doing this for this only purpose you get what I mean )

#naruto #naruto imagine #naruto smut #naruto shippuden #naruto shippuden imagine #naruto shippuden smut #itachi uchiha #itachi uchiha imagine #itachi uchiha x reader #itachi x reader #itachi uchiha smut #itachi smut #kakashi hatake #kakashi hatale x reader #smut #smutember 2023 #miri-writes

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sarawritestories · 4 months

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Starfall With The General

Cassian X Fem Reader

Summary: Starfall is upon the inner circle the first one since Rhys has returned from Under the Mountain. You are finding more reasons to celebrate as your brother has finally returned home. The only thing missing is your favorite General, who unbeknownst to you planned a night you would never forget.

Content warning: Brief mention of abuse, talks about grief

A/N: Few things! First this is my first time writing for ACOTAR so feedback is always welcome! Secondly, if anyone is interested in a second part of this please let me know!

Word Count: 3k

Standing in front of the full-length mirror, you looked at the black off the shoulder, lace dress that hugged your curves a slit rising to your mid-thigh with your eyes and red painted on your lips you bit the inside of your lip second guessing the choice of attire. “Mor, don’t you think that this dress is a bit much?” You called out as the bubbly blonde stepped out of the bathroom holding something in her hands. You smoothed out the lace that hugged your hips and became slightly self-conscious of how tight it was. Silver lace whirled around the black fabric making you look like you were hugged by light shadows.

Mor approached you giving you a once over, as you noticed that something was glistening in her hands. “Nonsense, you look like a goddess and with these,” She opened her hand to reveal a hairpin with a red jewel on the end with a velvet choker with another red jewel matching the one on the hairpiece, causing You to raise her brow, “You will have males and females on their knees.” Mor met your eyes and sighed, “Trust me.” You nodded in acknowledgment for her to continue and Mor pulled back some of your hair behind your pointed ear and slid the pin in. Moving behind You she placed the choker around her neck, the red jewel glistening in the candlelight.

Mor gripped your shoulders and looked at you through the mirror, “You look beautiful, Y/N,” she smiled, and you reached for her hand to give it a squeeze. “I bet you’ll captivate the attention of a certain General too.” Your heartrate sped at the mention of the General of the Night Court’s armies, causing Mor to laugh picking up on the different pace your heart was not beating at, “I’m going to check on Feyre, see you downstairs?” You nodded and released Mor’s hand as the blonde sauntered out of your bedroom.

Your gaze reverted to the mirror at your reflection. The glistening of the Red Jewel on the choker complimented the extravagant gown. The color scheme reminded you of Illyrian leathers and red siphons, you placed your hand over the jewel and let your mind wander to Lord of Bloodshed. His warm hazel eyes, his jovial smile that made your pulse quicken, even his wings that always tucked you close when you were cold, his hands that you on more than one occasion imagined around your-

A knock on the door caused You to jolt out of your stupor and you step away from the mirror and reach for the door. You smiled as Azriel stood on the other side of the door. You drank in the Shadowsinger as he had forgone the flight leathers and wore a black dress shirt that complimented his tone figure and dress pants. His shadows lingered low on his shoulders barely stirring at her assessing gaze. You met his hazel eyes, “Well, Shadowsinger, I must say you clean up nicely.”

Azriel took a moment to gaze you his observant eyes locked on her necklace and the crimson-colored jewel that deigned your neck. His eyes met yours again with gave her a smirk, “I could say the same about you.” He held out his arm and you slid your arm through his as the two of you made your descent to the party. A cool sensation kissed your neck causing you to giggle as shadows swirled around your neck and bare back tickled you. “They like you.” Az teased and he let out an exasperated sigh, “And they insist you know that you look beautiful tonight. Heat rose in your cheeks at the compliment and your eyes widened as lips pressed lightly on your flushed face causing you to pause stop in her tracks. “My shadows aren’t wrong, Y/N, you are a vision tonight.” you met his eyes, and found mischief behind them, “Could have the Lord of Bloodshed on his knees worshiping you tonight.”

Your brows furrowed slightly at the suggestion; this was the second occurrence that your close friends brought up Cassian having his attention on you that night. It was making it more difficult to dampen with the swell of hope it gave you. Cassian was your best friend had been for as long as you could remember, and you were naturally attracted to him but never wanted to pursue anything more. You didn’t want to risk his rejection as he had so quickly become an unwavering presence in your life that it was not worth risking losing his friendship in the hopes of something more. He was kind and patient but always pushed you to your limits to make you a better fighter, and friend. The Lord of Bloodshed was loyal as well going as far as defending you, when and Illyrian who made a comment on her figure and her capability to fight. He was everything you wanted and would hope your mate-

The cold kiss of a shadow against your hand brought you back to the present and to Azriel who had his brows furrowed in concern, “Where did you go?”

You waved him off and gave his arm a reassuring squeeze, “No where, come on, Spymaster, I don’t want to miss the show.” You could tell that Azriel didn’t believe you but wasn’t going to push you on it. As they approached the entrance to the ballroom in the House of Wind the noise of people on the other side grew louder. Both you and Azriel pushed open the doors and were greeted with heads turning in our direction. You took a sharp intake of breath, having the attention on you especially being part of the High Lord’s court was something you never were used to.

As you walked into the room conversations resumed, A scarred hand gave yours a comforting squeeze, “Want something to drink?” Az’s whispered. You nodded and he untangled your arms to go fetch drinks for the two of you.

Leaving you to scan for the rest of your friends and by the open balcony doors violet eyes met your own. The High Lord of the Night Court gave you a smile and you could feel something trying to break through your shields and let him in, “you trying to out dress me at my own party, Y/N, you wound me.”

You rolled your eyes as you headed in his direction, “If only to knock your ego down a peg, Rhys”. Looking at the high lord and how handsome he looked in his signature formal wear smiling in your direction you couldn’t help but think of Starfall years previous, when Rhys was trapped under that dreaded mountain, there were no lavish parties, no celebrations. Only the hope one day your friend would come home to enjoy it with you was what kept you from falling apart all those years. Him being home and even though there was a faint look of exhaustion in his star-flecked eyes, he overall looked happy.

Rhys smile grew as he grabbed you in a tight embrace, “I am happy, Y/N.” You weren’t even upset that you let your feelings flood to him if only for a moment. You pulled away and the pad of his thumb brushes away stray tears that have fallen on their own. “Don’t waste your tears on me.”

You grip his hand and give it a comforting squeeze, “It’s just nice, to have you back home.” Another intake of breath, “I missed you, terribly, and there was a point I never thought I’d see you again,” His hand squeezes yours in response. You open your mind to him and show him the love and appreciation you have for him, things you never got a chance to say before he was ripped away from you.

His eyes glean as tears of his own threaten to spill but he clears his throat, blinks a few times and kisses the knuckles of the hand he has not let go of. “We need to catch up, you and I, what say we have dinner soon just us.”

You nodded earnestly, “I would like that a lot, Rhys,” you whispered.

“Me too, you know you have always been like a sister to me, and that I love you.” I nod my head, “Good,” he says aloud and really takes in your appearance, as if his mind is also wandering off to those 50 years when he didn’t believe he was going to celebrate Starfall with his family either. He shakes his head slightly and smiles at you, looking you up head to toe, “You look beautiful, tonight. Any reason in particular for wearing Red and Black?” His eyebrow quirks.

You release his hand and cross your arms, “Mor is a busybody who ambushed me and chose my outfit and the accessories for them,” you grumbled and that caused Rhys to chuckle as Azriel approached with three glasses in his hand, handing one to yourself and the High Lord. Azriel meets Rhys’ gaze, and the prolonged silence told you that they were having a conversation. You let them have an interaction as you scanned the room once more hoping to see her general.

You look back over to the two Illyrian warriors to see that their gaze has reached the entrance where Mor and Feyre stood. Feyre was gorgeous in that silver gown that resembled starlight, her eyes scanning the room until she found Rhys’ and he sucked in a breath, like air had been ripped from his lungs. Azriel and you gave a quick glance, smirking at one another. “Go get your girl, High Lord.” You mused causing Rhysand to give you a dirty look as you of all people rarely called him by his title. “Go on, enjoy tonight, you have earned that right.” You planted a chaste kiss to his cheek and pushed him toward the entrance to meet his cousin and the once human girl halfway.

Azriel closed the space that Rhys left, stepping closer to you, “Cassian is going to be late, said he had a few things left to take care of before he arrived,” Azriel said casually sipping from his glass as the two of you looked at Rhys talking with Mor and Feyre.

“Hmm,” was your only response, taking another sip as Rhys grabbed Feyre’s hand and took her away from the party, a pang of jealousy sat low in your abdomen, not because of Rhys’ affection toward Feyre, you were glad that your brother had found someone he enjoys, but wishing someone would look at her the way he had with Feyre, his mate. You had a good life, a great family who loved and doted on you, but there was a part of you that yearned for that unyielding love and devotion from someone, the love you read about as a child and later as an adult with your romance book collection. You took another sip of your drink and watched others gather and dance enjoying the festivities.

A few hours Everyone began congregating towards the open balcony doors as the night raged on. You had lost Azriel in the crowd, not long after he told you Cassian was going to be late. Well, the stars were about to pass through at any moment, and he still hadn’t shown up. Worry and fear sat in the pit of your stomach hoping that something was wrong and that he was hurt. Then the hair on the back of your neck stood up, and a distinct tug had you walking away from the crowd and toward the door.

Taking a look back one last time Azriel’s gaze found yours and he lifted his glass and gave you a nod of goodbye as you left the party. Following the pull that led you up the stairs to your room, you opened your door. Slipping off your shoes a moan escaping your lips as your feet met the luxurious carpet, you felt a gentle cool breeze kiss your skin. You turn and notice the door to your balcony is open the dark colored curtains gently moving with the breeze. You stood alert as you knew your door was shut when you left.

Walking toward the balcony you were weary and tried to reach out to Rhys in your mind. There was no answer. A calm feeling swept through your body and against your training you stepped out onto the balcony. The night sky was clear and the stars were bright but no sign of an intruder, then as you looked up you saw the first shooting star of the evening. A soul traveling across the sky as the breeze picked up causing a shiver to run down your spine. Entranced by the Starfall you leaned against the balconies railing enjoying the sight, the worries you were having before falling to the wayside. You were so entranced at the sky you were unaware of the steps that were made behind you or saw the shimmering red siphons glowing in your darkened bedroom.

Cassian watched you gazing at the stars leaning against your balcony in reverence. Leaning against the door frame as he studied the back of your head, content to watch you peacefully. The inner circle had a hard time with his brother’s absence, but Cassian knew that it had cut you deeply to have his brother ripped away. He also knew that you felt more deeply and tried to keep those bad feelings to yourself as to not be a burden to others. It was one of the many things he loved about you that undying selflessness. Though he always made sure you were taken care of as you always put yourself last and when Rhys was gone you had thrown yourself into work and helping others and always making people smile in the darkest of times, but him and Azriel were aware of how many nights you were in your room sobbing over the loss of your brother.

Which is why it was so easy to get the Inner Circle on board with his plans tonight to make this evening special for you. Mor had already tasked herself with your outfit, Rhys, Az and Amren would keep there distance and be difficult to find so you felt more inclined to sneak away back to your room. Giving Cassian the perfect opportunity to be alone with you. Cassian's eyes flicked to your dress and the red of the hair pin shimmering in the moonlight. The color scheme was not lost on the general if anything a primal possessiveness almost bubbled as if you wearing the same color as his siphons and leathers made you his. He made a mental note to thank Mor for dressing her in that tonight. Though the dress hugged your beautiful curves just like the leathers you wore training with him. He imagined digging his fingers around your plump ass and when you had walked in, and moaned Cassian almost felt like he was going to pass out.

He had been attracted to you from the day Rhys, and Azriel and him found you in the forest on the Night Court border. Though you were in the midst of escaping from an abusive partner that was chasing you in the forest that day. The 3 brothers neutralized the threat of your former partner that day and insisted you come back to Velaris where the 4 of you have been inseparable ever since. Though he knew the first time he looked into your eyes that, he was yours hook, line and sinker.

Shaking his head from his thoughts He feinted a cough causing you to spin on your heels and the fear morphed into glee as you registered who was behind you, “You’re home!” You run up and wrap your arms around his neck. His muscled arms wrapping around your waist lifting you from the ground. Cassian couldn’t help but grin at your words as he put you down his hands still gripping your waist, “I know Rhys, said you would be late, but I was worried something happened.” You furrowed your brow slightly indicating your worry.

Cassian simply pressed his lips to your hairline, “Sorry to worry you, Sweetheart, I’m here now and I come with a present.”

You shoot him a weary look acutely aware that his thumbs are drawing comforting circles around your hips “Cassian, we don’t exchange gifts for Starfall.”

The General smiled, “So you don’t want it?”

You rolled your eyes, “I never said that,” You met his Hazel eyes to find his pupils had blown out and that he was looking at the necklace with the bright red gem on your neck causing heat to once again rose to your face. His gaze is like a caress and you try to dampen the arousal you feel at his heated gaze. “Cass,” you breathe out his name and Cassian closes his eyes and hums as he leans into your neck, his scent overwhelming your senses as he presses a chaste kiss to your heated skin.

“You look breathtaking tonight, Princess.” His breath warms your ear as a calloused hand grazes your bare back, “Are your ready for your gift?”

You nodded as he reluctantly pulls away from you, you instantly missing the warmth of his touch and reaching into bag you took in that he was also not in his usual leathers but in a deep maroon dress shirt his sleeves rolled to reveal his toned forearms and black pants that accentuated his assets that made your blood warm. He pulls put a small box with black ribbon and hands it to you. You open the box and gasped, pulling out a silver locket your initials carved into it causing a memory to resurface:

Your eyes were red and splotchy from crying the night before , Rhys was gone, ripped away from his home, his brothers, you. Fear had taken the inner circle by neck and no one knew what to do. You spent a lot of time walking around Velaris seeing others give you solemn smiles. You hated being pitied even more hating the looks they gave as if her beloved friend was never coming home. You always tried to counter it by making sure every person you interacted with felt happy and better than they were before you came around trying to ignore your own dreaded feelings ringing in your ears.

It had been weeks, and you were beginning to feel like he was never coming home either. Walking down the rainbow bridge, twirling the locket that held the portrait of you, Rhys, Cassian and a reluctant Azriel in it, a gift from Rhys for Solstice one year saying you were part of the family, getting lost in your thoughts alone. Though you knew you weren’t alone you could feel Cassian’s presence above. He always kept enough distance so he wouldn’t be reprimanded but close enough to be there if you needed him. Az made sure you were never alone either a lingering shadow that lingered around your feet every time you left the townhouse.

You paused looking out at the Sidra the sun glistening over the sea. You closed your eyes wishing that Rhys, hadn’t left, hadn’t sacrificed himself. Wishing this was all a terrible dream that you needed to wake up from. A small bout of anger washed over you, you ripped the necklace from around your neck and threw it and heard it splash in the water. Wrapping your arms around yourself you walked away knowing full well when you reached your room fresh wave of tears would surface.

Calloused hands were on your cheeks bringing you back to the present, warm honeyed eyes met yours. “There you are,” He whispered, swiping away tears that had slipped for the second time this evening.

You looked down at the locket in your hand and opened it, the image still intact surprisingly a few smudges from drops of water but was not destroyed. “How did you get this?”

Cassian gave her a grin, “If my memory serves me right, you called me a drowned rat the day I retrieved it.” You think back and your eyes go wide in surprise Cassian continued, “I knew you would want that back one day, so after you walked away, I dived into the water and got it back.” He removed his hands from your face and shrugged, grabbing the necklace and twirled his finger indicating for you to turn around. You spun around and moved your hair out of the way to make it easier for him to clasp the necklace around your neck. When he put the necklace on his hand lingered on the back of your neck causing a shiver to track down your back.

Your brows furrowed as you turned back to face him, “Why not give it back to me when you got home?”

Cassian paused for a moment and sighed, “You threw it in the Sidra in the first place, you want to try and convince me it wouldn’t have ended up in the fireplace next?” Your silence encouraged him to press forward, “I kept it safe knowing, hoping, that Rhys would come home. When he winnowed back that day from that dreaded mountain, you reached out to clasp the locket and had a pained look when you were met with bare skin.”

You began wringing your hands with nerves, “Why wait for tonight?”

Cassian’s wings flared slightly, as he walked to the railing looking up at the night sky, flashes of green and blue painting the sky. You followed him and he offered his hand palm out, a silent request, you slipped your hand in his and he interlaced your fingers, and your pulse was ringing in your ears. “Few reasons, the first was because I had to pick it up, I had it cleaned and polished last week.” He paused and you saw a flash of nervousness in his face. You squeezed his hand with quiet encouragement. He turned and faced you, using the hand that was intertwined with yours he pulls you close, his free hand splayed across your back. Your chest pressed against his front, your breaths quicken, as he bends down and kisses you.

You unlock your hand from his to wrap around his neck, as you deepen the kiss. Then something clicks inside you, your eyes snap open as you press your free hand on his chest and push slightly. The General pulls away from you only to press his forehead against yours and your eye sees the tether that connects you two. “Cassian,” You whisper, fresh tears spring up. “You’re my mate.”

Part 2

#cassian acotar #cassian x reader #cassian x you #acotar #acotar fanfiction #rhys x reader #rhysand acotar #azriel x reader #cassian

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plump-lips-imagine · 1 year

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Hello (◍•ᴗ•◍) u saw that your request were open. Can you write some romantic headcanons of bowser with his s/o, it can be fluffy or spicy whichever you're comfortable with thank you in advance

Alright, Coming up!

Bowser Romantic Headcanons.

Meeting:

You know how dragons like to make hoards of anything that’s shiny, and glimmering, and just want it all to themselves?

That’s the closest thing that Bowser felt after he met you.

Granted, it was pure accident that you met because he accidentally kidnapped you instead. Well, HIS minions made the mistake of kidnapping you.

You were Peach’s Royal Attendant. You were taking care of some of Peach’s documents while she was in a meeting when it happened.

“You ain’t Peach!!” Bowser Growled at you with his claw dangerously close to your face. You gulped nervously at the predicament you were forced into. “N-No Sir, I’m not. I’m just her attendant. Please don’t hurt me”.

He huffs in frustration. He’ll be sure to punish the idiotic minions that make this mistake. But what to do with you? “...You’re not totally useless. I can make this work.” “Huh?”

He was going to use you as a hostage to make Peach agree to marry him. She cares way too much for her people to leave you in danger. It’s the perfect plan!

So that’s how you were trapped in a cage, waiting currently for someone to rescue you as Bowser planned a letter to threaten the Peach with for your Safety.

Welp. With nothing better else to do, you might as well try to make conversation if you’re going to be here for a while.

“So….Got any hobbies?”

Bowser raises an eyebrow at you. “What?”

Safe to say, Bowser was very annoyed at your attempts to make small talk. But he entertained the idea since he was running blank on what to write to the Princess.

Maybe if he decided to talk to you a bit, You’ll eventually stop talking altogether.

And maybe fix this writer’s block.

Neither happens.

You were a chatterbox, and he seemed to lose interest in the letter altogether.

You were genuinely curious about him since you’d only heard about him From Peach.

He was Scary, but you couldn’t help but look at him in interest.

And he….didn’t mind. Actually, the way you looked at him in curiosity when he talked made him a little Bashful. Not many ask a lot about him

No one appreciates his awesomeness in all its glory, so you asking about him kinda…made him want to talk to you too.

Peach is usually silent when he tries to talk to her, so it's nice to talk to someone for a change.

Both of you didn’t realize how late it was until Kamek came to remind him that Dinner was ready.

It was shocking to him he talked to you so much without getting bored and shocked him even more that he didn’t want the conversation to end.

That lasted for about 3 days before Mario and Luigi came to the rescue.

And Of Course, he got his ass handed to him.

Mario grabs your hand as he walks away from the barely conscious Bowser. “Come on-a (Y/N). The Princess was-a so worried about you.” You followed the bros out the front door of his castle, but you turn quickly to look at Bowser. “Bye, Bowser! See you Later!” Bowser lays there as the three of you left, contemplating was you just said. ‘’Later’?...later…..Later.”

There was definitely going to be a Later.

Pre-Relationship:

He starts ‘kidnapping’ more frequently. To the Point where Both his minions and Peach notice it.

“Sire, Why are we taking this Human instead of the Princess? What could the servant provide that we can’t just get from the Princess immediately?” Bowser Glares at the Koopa, and stomps towards them, making the Koopa jump in fear. “Are you questioning me!? I know what I’m doing! We need that servant because she’s more likely to tell us things without a fight! I’m going to use it against this Kingdom when the time is Right!” Translation: I miss this human a lot but couldn’t think of a reasonable way of seeing them again so I kidnap them so they’ll have no choice but to spend time with me, but I won’t admit that to anybody.

Princess Peach runs up to you to inspect your face as Mario and Luigi save you again. “Thank Goodness you're alright! Did that Monster hurt you? I’m so sorry you got dragged into this.” “Princess, I'm Fine, Really. Don’t worry about it. Mario and Luigi saved me so all is good with the world.” Translation: Bowser has no idea how to ask to hang out so I gotta keep up this facade until either I ask him personally to hang out. I had a fun time with him but I don’t want you to freak out at this.

He has obvious favoritism for you.

It’s laughable to even call you a prisoner because you don’t even sit in the cage when he kidnaps you.

He orders his minions to prepare a room for you.

He even made sure they got delicious food sent to your room when supper was ready.

You don’t attempt to run since you enjoy his company and he enjoys yours.

Kamek and the rest of his minions as You and Bowser talk about certain topics walking down the Royal Hallway. Bowser notices this and glares at them. “Is there something you need to say?” He rhetorically asks in a dark tone.” They stop looking and stand guard quickly. Bowser's face softens, looking down back at you. “As you were saying?”

He is also a little touchy with you. He usually has his hand on your back when you talk. Also has you sat on his forearm when he wants you to be closer.

He’s a little touch-starved. He forgets that he has to act like he’s holding you prisoner.

Mario and Luigi came to ‘rescue’ you for the 8th time. It was different today. They defeated his defenses but when they came to the throne room, he wasn’t ready for them to come. He was asleep. He was on his some curled up in a sleeping position and there you were, next to his face as he held you down with his arm, pulling you close to him.

The Mario Bros stare at yall in shock. You shush them when you spot them and waved them over quietly. They come and you carefully wiggle out of Bowser’s Grasp. “Let’s go.” You whisper quietly. They nod and head out the front. You take a piece of paper and leave a note. I’ll be coming over next week, You don’t have to pick me up anymore. - (Y/N).

You tuck the note under his hand, and placed a soft kiss on his cheek, leaving before he woke up. He smiles in his sleep.

Post-Relationship

Congratulations! You have the Koopa King’s Heart in your Hands now.

Achievement unlocked: Bowser will now kill for you.

But yeah, if you thought he was sweet before. Get ready for that time 3.

He just wants to make you happy and bathe you in riches.

Are you hungry? He gets the minions to make a 5-star gourmet dish just to your liking.

Thirsty? He will bring you a gold chalice embedded with shining jewels.

Is it too hot? Minions! Fan my lover and get them the coldest water we got!

Enemy needs to be wiped out? Say the word and he will bring them to your knees begging for mercy.

Calls you Starlight and Firefly because of how you brighten the room. Along with nicknames like Honey, and Sweetheart.

Also, be prepared for him to be right under you or more like you very close to him

He will pick you up in his hands just because. No reason. He just wants to hold you and keep you close.

He is very gentle when he has you in his hand. It makes you feel safe when he wraps his fingers around you lovingly. Claws never tearing your clothes or breaking the skin. You are treated as fragile as precious glass art.

He still has this urge to just pinch your cheeks and squeeze you a bit. You’re just too cute for your own. (Even when you’re doing absolutely nothing.)

Have you sitting on his lap when he’s sitting on his throne until yours is done being built.

Please kiss is on his snoot. He will melt at the affection with hearts in his eyes.

Please kiss him more. He craves it. He will wag his tail when you do.

You know how possessive and protective Dragons get with their treasure. Be prepared for that.

He will be so stubborn when you have to go to the Peach’s castle and try to get you to stay longer.

Do you have to go so soon? It’s early. Why don’t you stay another hour…or 2. Or you can’t wait till tomorrow? Or next week? Next Month? Next Year?

He has to fight this instinct to just grab you and keep him under him so that he can keep you all to himself.

…He only controls it 3 times out of 10.

Literally has you cuddled up under him in your shared bedroom because he doesn’t even want to share you with the Princess. You were a little annoyed.

He gives you his best puppy dog eyes to make you less angry. You can’t stay mad at that face.

Fine, But You’re going in the next hour.

He lets out a content purr as you settled into him.

He literally loves you so much. He hopes you stay forever.

He is so ready to ask for your hand in marriage.

He hopes you say yes.

#i think i over did it. hope you like it though.#bowser x reader #bowser #reader #bowser x y/n #super mario #smb x reader #im on a roll #my eyes are twitching #ya like jazz #my fingers are to big for my phone.#Curse my sasuage fingers!!

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deathbecomesthem · 5 months

Text

Roomies 3

Eddie Munson x Best friend!reader | ~2.3K

One & Two

Summary: It’s the perfect solution. You need a place to stay, he needs someone to help with the rent.

In this chapter, expect lots of talk about sexual stuff, but no actual smut. Have you ever unwittingly picked out a super sexy movie to watch with a friend you're attracted to and regretted it? There are spoilers for the film Basic Instinct, but that film is probably older than most of the folks in this fandom.

---

Eddie doesn’t close cupboard doors. Not completely, anyway. There are times when you walk into the kitchen and find at least 5 separate cupboard doors slightly ajar. You think he doesn’t realize he’s doing it - either that or it’s a fully conscious decision. There can’t be an in between scenario. Every time you enter the kitchen, you absentmindedly make your rounds, closing each door until you hear them click into place.

Eddie thinks you’re playing a cruel joke on him, because he has yet to make it through an entire day without stumbling across at least one pair of lace underwear hanging in your shared bathroom. Red, yellow, black, and purple so far. His curiosity gets to him every time he sees a pair, and runs the fabric between his fingers. One morning he couldn’t stop himself, he pulled the black pair hanging from the hook on the back of the door and dropped his boxers. He expected the material to be scratchy against his sensitive skin, but was pleasantly surprised at how gently held he felt. He groaned when he felt his cock stirring against the lace, and quickly took them off to put them back where he found them. He had to get to work, he didn’t have time for this kind of self discovery.

“What are you up to tomorrow night?” Eddie’s asking the question before he’s even fully stepped foot into the living room where you’re sitting cross legged on the couch eating a bowl of grape nuts. His nose crinkles when he peeks into the bowl and sees the brown cereal. “You might as well just eat the gravel from the parking lot.”

“Fuck off,” you say around a mouthful, “sorry it’s not Fruity Pebbles or whatever.” You scramble to not spill your bowl when Eddie plops himself down right next to you. He’s staring at you, waiting for an answer, “I was planning on staying in and watching a movie. Why? You’re working, right?”

Eddie pinches the spoon out of your hand and scoops a small bite of Grape Nuts into his mouth. He wrinkles his nose again, “Nah, Joey needs some extra cash, so I told him he could take this Friday.”

“God, stop stealing my food, you dick. You don’t even like it.” You reach for the spoon, and he giggles and holds it away from you, “Come on, Ed. Knock it off.” You put the bowl on the coffee table, and straddle his lap to reach the utensil. He puts one of his hands on your hip to try to hold you in place. He’s still giggling, but you see his smile falter when he sees that he’s eye level with your tits. No bra, just a black tank top. You slump down onto his knees and he hands the spoon back over to you, and the hand on your back falls away. He’s doing that thing he does, he’s got a piece of hair pulled over his mouth. Shy.

Eddie clears his throat as you sit back in your own seat and pick up the bowl like nothing just happened. “So, how about you and me tomorrow night? Hang out with your good buddy like we used to do before I started having to clean your hair out of the shower drain?”

“Pffft,” you stir your spoon around the now mushy cereal and set it back down on the table without taking a bite, “I’m sure your hair never ends up all over the bathroom.” You pinch a curl between your fingers and give it a little tug. “But, yes please. Movie night with me?”

Eddie’s eyes are soft when he really smiles, and right now you feel yourself wanting to fall into them. Not for the first time, you think of how easy it would be to get lost in them if you’d allow yourself to do that. They sparkle. From this angle, you can see thin amber colored lines that you’ve never noticed before now. How much more could you find if you could both stay in this moment?

You break contact and drop your hand from his hair. You didn’t realize your fingertips were dancing along the edges of his curls. It’s your turn to clear your throat. You stand and walk to the kitchen to rinse out your bowl.

“Well, Angel,” Eddie’s voice carries through the doorway while you’re at the sink, “it’s a date. You, me, Family Video, and burgers from Hank’s.”

A date. You smile at the thought and call back, “sounds good, lover boy. Better bring me some chocolates.”

—

“Jesus, Eddie. Where’s the fire?” You’re clutching the “oh shit” bar as he cranks the wheel into an empty spot in front of the video store. “I swear to god, one of these days you’re gonna give me a stroke.”

“Relax. I’m not the one that’s gotten into multiple accidents in the last year.” Eddie snarks back. He cranks the emergency break and hops out of the van before you can respond. He’s right, but you’re more unlucky than a bad driver.

It feels good to be with Eddie like this, it’s been a long time. Somehow, over the last few months you’ve been spending less and less time together, and the new living arrangement has put a weird kind of pressure on your otherwise happy and close friendship. There’s tension - you know what kind of tension it is, but you haven’t been able to actively acknowledge it yet. You haven’t even admitted to yourself that you’re finding excuses to be in the hallway when Eddie’s walking from the bathroom to his room after a shower. Wet curls brushing against pale skin. Black ink and shiny rivulets of water.

Eddie’s voice snaps you out of your private reverie, “what are we thinking? Do not say When Harry Met Sally, I can’t take it again.” You giggle and Eddie shoots you a warning look. It’s your favorite movie. The last time you watched it, he joined you. He cried like a baby.

“No, I’m in the mood for something different. Let’s walk the route.” You hook your arm in his elbow and steer the both of you to the corner just inside the entrance. You’ll do the route - new releases, thrillers, and comedies - starting with A and going all the way through Z of each section before making a final decision. This is how things are done, it’s how the two of you have always done it. You both point out movies along the way you’d be willing to watch, and make a mental list. You’ll consider each option at the end.

“Come on, Eddie, it looks cute,” you’re pleading your case for Bennie & Joon, but you already know it’s going to fail. Eddie’s toe is tapping impatiently and his eyes barely glance at the movie cover.

“You’re just horny for Depp, don’t deny it.” Eddie reaches out and picks up the plastic VHS case at his side. His number one choice, and you know exactly why he wants to see it, “What about this one? You like thrillers.”

You grab the box out of his hand and look at the girl on the cover of Basic Instinct. “Oh, I do like thrillers. Especially when they’re starring a hot blonde.” You cock your head to the side and hope he goes shy on you about it. He chooses indignancy.

“Oh, come on. If it’s hot, that’s just a bonus. We could go with Sliver, but it’s got the same issue. I can’t help it if Hollywood only casts hot blondes in thrillers.” Eddie’s standing with his hands on hips and a bitchy look on his face, and it makes you giggle to see. You can’t help it, you want to give him what he wants, even if it means you watch a trashy movie with a hot chick in it.

“You win this round, Munson. But you owe me a milkshake.”

Eddie does a little fist pump in triumph, and grabs the box from your hand. He’s at the counter in a flash, grabbing a box of Whoppers on his way. Your favorite.

—

Eddie regrets his film choice very early on, but he’s not ready to admit it. He should have let you get your way, because the tone of Basic Instinct raises the heat between the already blazing temperature. Benny and Joon wouldn’t have opened with a sex scene that made Eddie half hard, at the very least. The graphic violence did nothing to stop the way his mind began to play a vision of you on top of him, his mouth reaching out to your nipple in the same way the doomed man did with that faceless femme fatale on the screen.

“Well, at least he got off,” you reach for the popcorn bowl on Eddie’s lap and grab a handful. Somehow, you seem completely unaffected by the scene that just played out in front of the both of you, “can you imagine coming like that while there’s an ice pick in your eye?”

Eddie shifts uncomfortably and huffs a short laugh. He moves the popcorn bowl to the coffee table. It’s self preservation, he can’t deal with you reaching your hand that close to his dick, even if the bowl is doing a decent job of hiding his erection. Except, you take that move as a signal to scoot closer and rest your head on his shoulder. A familiar position that you’ve taken countless times before, but tonight Eddie is very aware of the body heat your cheek is radiating through his lightweight cotton shirt.

To your eyes, the film is well acted. Beautiful people lying, killing, fucking - an absolute romp. The sex scenes stir your guts, you take short mental snapshots to store away for later. You hide your smile from Eddie, but you’re keenly aware that his entire body is tense. Every muscle is tight, but you’re too good of a friend to point out the way he has to wiggle his hips every so often to hide the tightness in the seat of his pants. You try not to make mental notes about the scenes that make his breath hitch, but your stupid brain can’t stop itself.

“Oh my god, it’s the therapist?” Eddie sits up straighter at the twist in the story, forgetting about the weight of you at his side. You slide down, and reach out to pull the blanket at your feet over your body. “I knew there was something about her.”

Eddie turns to look at you, the blue glow of the television illuminates one side of his face while the other - the side closest to you - is still hidden in shadow. Poor boy. You frown sympathetically, and cup his cheek with your hand. He’s perplexed by your reaction, but you shake your head and snuggle back into him. This time, you rest your head on his chest, you want to hear the way his breathing and the way his heart beats from here out.

—

“How the fuck did you know?” Eddie’s head is in his hands, thinking about where he lost his footing in the story. “You fucking knew it was Catherine the whole time.”

“Oh, Eddie,” you giggle and run your fingers through his soft curls. You can feel his head push back into your touch a little, it’s subtle but true. “That’s the whole point. You were thinking with your dick, just like Nick.” Eddie turns his face to you. He looks sheepish, but he’s smiling. You kiss his cheek before picking up the bowl of popcorn. It’s empty but for a few kernels and butter stains.

“Well, can you blame me?” He’s following behind you, watching the way your hips sway a little under the black sweatpants. He can’t stop thinking about the way they’d feel under his grip.

“No, I can’t,” you giggle as you turn back, the fat of your ass pushed against the edge of the counter. Eddie’s closer than you expected, close enough to have to reach around you to place the empty cans of beer on the counter behind your back. “We saw Christine through Nick’s eyes, and he was totally clouded by his feelings for her.”

Eddie’s looking at your lips while you talk, and the words start to slip from your mind. You have more to say, something about an oversexualized femme fatale. Something about noir using the trope over and over again, and how Eddie knows that and still missed it because Sharon Stone made his dick hard. None of that matters, not when he’s looking at your lips like that. Not when he’s looking at you like he wants to swallow you whole. And his arms are bracketing your sides, his hands are resting on the counter.

“Well, what can I say -” Eddie’s voice is low and he’s close enough for you to feel the heat of his words fanning against your lips. You think, kiss me now, you fool. Instead he closes his eyes and turns his head to the side to shake away the sudden animal instinct that nearly took over his ability to reason. “- you’ve always been smarter than me.” A kiss on the cheek and a whispered goodnight, and you’re left standing there watching him walk out of the kitchen and down the hallway to his room.

You yank open the junk drawer and fish around for the AA battery pack. You grab 4 before slamming it closed and heading back to your own room. It’s precautionary, you can’t have that little Pocket Rocket dying on you, not tonight. Not when you’re sure you can picture exactly what Eddie’s doing on the other side of your bedroom wall. Is it just your imagination, or do you hear the rhythmic sounds of bed springs faintly vibrating along with the rhythm of your own pleasure.

All doubt is gone when the sound of a moan through the paper thin wall, and decide that tonight you won’t bite down on your pillow while your own hips lift up off your mattress trying to ride an imaginary lover through your pleasure.

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfiction

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apdreadful · 5 days

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Anyone saying that Tommy is just convenient, he’s just a stepping stone, or Buck is confused and projecting his feelings for Eddie onto Tommy. Denial is not a river in Africa.

Buck didn’t just roll out of bed one morning and decide “I am declaring myself to be bisexual! And starting today, I’m looking for a guy”

Buck has ALWAYS been bisexual. So the whole time we have known Evan Buckley, he has been attracted to men.

However, it’s very likely had never really sat with and processed what to do about that attraction prior to meeting Tommy. Never acted on it prior to Tommy. Never made it as obvious to anyone before Tommy.

In retrospect, the signs were definitely there, before Tommy.

The catalyst for the change? Is Tommy.

He made the conscious decision to go see Tommy when he had no damn reason to. He wasn’t thinking of leaving the 118, he just wanted a reason to see him again. I don’t think Buck actively processing “I want to date this man” he just wanted “something” and Tommy was part of that something. But he had no damn idea how to get his brain wrapped around what exactly he was planning to do with those feelings “Huh, this is more…what do I do now?” Hence the basketball game.

And I don’t know if it was before Tommy came over or if seeing Tommy standing there in his apartment made those pieces finally click into place for Buck.

(Personally I’m leaning toward that “Well not at the same time” response to teaching him Muay Thai. Because there was no mistaking THAT look that Tommy gave him)

Because if you have ever been into someone and are even the tiniest bit queer, you saw that dance for exactly what it was.

The subtle signs, the shifting in atmosphere, the carefully chosen words, way their bodies started mirroring each other as they moved closer.

Tommy having more experience with this dance, started getting the inkling this may be going SOMEWHERE...So he took that chance and dropped the “Well probably not at the same time”with THAT look. That look was a whole sentence.

Now Buck’s awakening bisexuality, understood that look. And those butterflies starting flying and he stepped right up and said “I have been trying to get your attention”

He decided THIS man. Right here. Is the one that I want enough- choose to just lay it all out for.

Now for any baby bi THAT is a big damn leap. Because you think you know..But you don’t have the experience to know if you’re reading the signs right.

Brass Tacks my lovelies is..

Buck wanted Tommy..he wasn’t entirely sure for what. But he knew it was Tommy specifically.

And if you think he’s projecting his feelings about Eddie onto Tommy. Go back and look at that first episode Eddie shows up at the 118 in.

Buck wanted to be in that firefighter calendar, and he saw Eddie as competition to getting that which he wanted. Eddie was his competition. Did he recognize that he was competition because he also looked hot af?

Yep.

So when Tommy catches Bucks interest, once again Buck finds himself in competition against Eddie for the thing he wants, which this time is Tommy’s attention. And because Eddie is his best friend, and he knows Eddie is awesome. In Bucks head, Eddie is worthy competition for Tommy’s attention. It doesn’t matter that Eddie isn’t interested in Tommy the same way Buck is.

If it were Eddie that Buck really wanted, why tf hadn’t he asked Eddie to teach him Muay Thai? They’ve been friends for years. Why had Buck not been interested in the basketball game prior to Tommy’s appearance??

Buck is bi. And it was the hot dish casserole that is Tommy Kinard that made all those little “huh” moments click into “well that’s makes sense” place.

So stop playing at being flat earthers.

#Tommy totally ignited that bi 🔥 in Buck.#like a big ol bonfire WHOOSH #and I don’t blame Buck one bit #911 abc #evan buckley #tommy kinard #911 spoilers #buck x tommy #evan x tommy #bucktommy

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axelsagewrites · 8 months

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Jamie Tartt*Please Stay

Pairing: Season 2/3 Jamie x reader

Word count: 1324

Warnings: Jamie being self-conscious, illusions to sex, but mainly just fluff

Masterlist here

Jamie couldn’t believe his luck when you’d agreed to the date. You’d always known him as the prick of the team but since he came back from Manchester with his tail between his legs he’d been trying to do better. He was done with the one-night stands and shitty comments and stealing all the glory for himself. Even Roy had to admit Jamie was better now than he’d ever been.

So, when he saw you yesterday leaving your office, he couldn’t stop himself from shooting his shot. He’d been thinking about it a lot. Where he would take you on a date, what he would wear, what you would wear. The problem was actually asking you. “Oi are you busy the morrow night?” He asked in that accent you’d secretly grown to love.

He was trying to stay confident, but his hands were shoved into his short pockets as you locked your office door, “That depends on who’s asking?” You said turning back around.

Jamie’s face screwed up in confusion for a moment, “I am,” he said, his shyness replaced with confusion.

“Then im free,” you laughed, starting to walk and Jamie followed without question, “What’s up Jamie?”

“Just was thinking is all,” he said, his hands finding his pockets again, this time playing with a loose string to distract himself, “We could do something, if you wanted of course,” he said, already hating how he was beginning to word vomit, “Movie maybe or dinner, you like that place archers place right? Or Chinese or something maybe something else or even no dinner and just hanging out or something,” he said, bouncing on the balls of his feet to try calm himself.

You stopped walking and Jamie felt his heart sink. Rejection was not exactly his thing after all but when you slowly turned around with a smile on your face, eyebrows scrunched, he thought this was his chance, “You asking me on a date Tartt?” You asked. Jamie opened his mouth to speak but just nodded, scared of what would pour out, “Alright then,” you laughed as you resumed your walk, Jamie quickly moving to follow beside you, “Pick me up at seven yeah?”

Jamie felt his heart flutter, his footsteps grew lighter, as his face cracked into a cheesy grin, “Seven yeah perfect love seven it is,” he said like a kid who’d been given a massive bag of sweeties.

“Great,” you laughed as you entered the parking lot and pulled out your car keys, “i’ll let you pick from one of your many options,” you joked as you climbed into the car, “Just text me the dress code yeah?”

“Yeah, course totally,” Jamie said, desperate for you to pull away so he could celebrate, “See ya tomorrow,”

“Bye Jamie,” you said, a giggle in your voice as you shut the door to your car and started the engine. Jamie waved you off as your car drove off and as soon as it was out of sight, he couldn’t stop himself jumping about the car park like a big dumb idiot, but he didn’t care who saw. He had a date. A real date.

Jamie was up all night picking the perfect restaurant for you to go to. Something new, something fancy, but not too fancy, but not too new. Eventually he managed to make his choice as the clock hit 2 am and he finally got some sleep.

Everyone in the locker room could sense the excitement radiating out of Jamie. However, he was a gentleman now and gentlemen don’t kiss and tell. Well even if he hasn’t kissed you yet. Oh, fuck he might get to kiss you. Jamie didn’t think it could get any better.

Eventually Jamie couldn’t keep his mouth shut anymore and soon all the players new of Jamie’s plans tonight. As soon as he told them it was all he could talk about all practises. After practise he spent twice the time he usually would in the shower, making sure he was squeaky clean before rushing how to get changed.

Jamie arrived at your door bang on seven, counting down the seconds on his watch to knock on your door. His jaw about smacked the floor when he saw you. He knew you were fit but right now you were fucking fit alright. Jamie tried to contain his excitement as he led you to the car, but you spoke like you’d known him for a hundred years.

The date went amazingly of course. Jamie was surprised you could put up with him but was grateful each time you laughed at a joke or rested your hand on top of his. He was even more grateful when you said yes to a couple of drinks at his with him promising to get you a taxi that night.

Jamie wanted to be a proper man, a gentleman sort, but when your hand lingered on his thigh, he couldn’t stop himself. He sunk into the kiss like a man possessed and it didn’t take long for you to go from the kitchen to the couch then eventually stumble to bed.

It was a perfect night. When Jamie felt the sun fanning over his face he began to stir, remembering everything that had happened last night. He grinned sleepily as he rolled over, expecting to find you on the other side of the bed. But the sheets were empty. His grin fell and confusion wracked his face as he sat up in the sheets. You were gone.

Jamie wanted to cry. Of course, you thought it was a one-night stand. A one-time thing. You’d went home, taken your clothes with you. Jamie fell back down into the sheets, rubbing the bottom of his palms into his eyes. He felt them water as he tried to console himself.

Of course, he knew he liked you, but Jamie was now realising just how fucking much he liked you. The date had only proved that he’d fallen for you. Now you’d gone, left him in the messy sheets to remind himself at the end of the day this was his life. It was his own fault. The years on one-night stands and sex jokes he’d call across the locker room whenever you walked in. Jamie let his hands fall to his side, staring up at the ceiling in remorse. This is what he gets for being a prick he thought as he shut his glazed eyes.

A few moments later the sound of a door creaking made his eyes shoot open. When Jamie lent up, he was stunned by what he saw. You trying to tip toe into the room with only his shirt on. His head turned to follow your movements as you reached the side of the bed. You grinned when your eyes met his, “Sorry I didn’t mean to wake you,” you whispered as you slipped back into the sheets.

“I thought you’d left,” Jamie mumbled as you settled into the bed, your head turning to face his.

“I had to pee,” you said, your eyes somehow more beautiful in the morning. However, your face screwed up when you noticed his wet eyes, “Unless you need me to go,”

Jamie quickly rolled over till his arms wrapped around your body, his head resting on your chest and his legs strewn over yours, “Please stay,” he whispered, his face nuzzling into your skin.

You bit back a smile at the man nuzzling into you, holding you tightly. Your hand moved to gently stroke his hair, “Yeah course,” you whispered, kissing the top of his head, “You can’t get rid of me that easily,”

“Good,” Jamie said as he gave you a light squeeze, feeling your heartbeat through your chest. You didn’t say anything, instead continuing to gently stroke his hair and it didn’t take long for gentle snores to fall from his mouth. There was no chance you were leaving now.

#ted lasso #ted lasso imagine #ted lasso x reader #ted lasso fluff #jamie tartt #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tart x reader #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt fluff #jamie tart fluff #jamie tarttt smut

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h3wi · 9 months

Text

"how to get your crush to like you back in 3 easy steps"

or: dan heng likes you. march knows.

dan heng x f!reader. pining fools and idiots in love. march is close to having a metaphorical heart attack. cliche shoujo stuff.

"you have a crush on her."

"i absolutely do not."

march fixes dan heng with an unimpressed gaze. "you are literally so obvious, don't even try and deny it again."

obvious? he's obvious? dan heng tries not to panic. in a poor attempt to salvage the unsalvageable, he says, lamely, "...i don't know what you're talking about."

graciously preserving the little dignity he has left, march ignores him. she claps him on the shoulder sympathetically. "don't worry, i'm a pro wingwoman. i accept payment in the form of desserts."

dan heng's right eye twitches.

1. show interest in their interests, pay attention to them.

that's easy, he thinks to himself. he always pays attention to you, it comes naturally to him. he knows how you prefer your coffee with a dash of milk and honey, not too sweet. he knows how you always start books but rarely ever finish them unless they were "really good and checked all my boxes!" and could go on thesis-worthy rants about your favourite ones. he knows how you like to keep succulents on your table and give them all ridiculous names like "king coin of doge land" and "a rad little guy".

so easy, in fact, that he feels the most confident he's ever been as he strides across the room over to you. you’re fiddling with something, looking vaguely nervous as you talk to march.

"good morning." he greets, eyeing the newest project you seem to be occupied with in your hands. a crotchet dragon, how nice. he knows exactly how to keep the conversation going now—

"what's cookin', good lookin'?"

his brain short circuits.

what is he supposed to say to that? were you flirting? does he flirt back? was it just a phrase? what's cooking-?

"but i'm not on cooking duty today."

dan heng watches your face freeze in confusion. his face feels like stone. to the side, march looks like she’s about to strangle him.

"...uh huh."

an awkward silence hangs in the air. dan heng wishes he was a statue.

— a failure, cut your losses and move on.

2. compliment something they’ve put effort into.

“please elaborate.”

“say something you like about her.” march takes a bite of her parfait (courtesy of dan heng), “but it has to be something she put conscious thought into. it shows that you notice the little things, and it makes her feel good about herself which makes her feel good about you. bam! two birds with one stone.”

dan heng only feels more confused. “but i like everything about her.”

even with the sweet treat in her mouth, march looks like she tasted something sour.

“so do i compliment her on everything i can think of?”

“no, no. you-“ march heaves a sigh, “pick one. just one.”

when he sees you in the archive room, he notices the now completed crotchet dragon in your hand. he decides that this is the perfect time to redeem himself.

“it’s well-made. i like the teal colour.” he says, and mentally congratulates himself for not messing up right off the bat (again).

“thank you, it’s, um, actually supposed to be the dragon you summon.”

“oh.” dan heng’s mind had been so occupied with march’s plans and you that he didn’t even make the connection. he feels just a little stupid.

“…and it’s for you.”

“oh.” a gift from you? and it was made exclusively to represent him, with hours of effort? he is in shock.

he must have taken too long to answer, because you notice the hesitation. flushing with embarrassment, you say “it’s a little much, huh? sorry.”

dan heng doesn’t manage to get a word in (because he would love to have the crotchet dragon, thank you very much!) before you scurry out the door. it clicks as it shuts, his outstretched hand reaching for nothing but air.

— i don’t want to call you a dumbass, but you’re kind of being a dumbass.

3. find time alone with them.

“i’ll help you with this one. but when you’re alone with her, you’re on your own.” march looks mildly concerned, “…will you be ok?”

“of course.” he says, and it’s merely bravado.

“right, well, i managed to convince mr. yang, miss himeko, and pom pom to visit this café with me—you’re paying, of course—it’s a rare opportunity so make full use of it, ‘kay?”

alone on the express. with you. no one else. no big deal, he tries to convince himself.

they keyword is ‘tries’, of course.

when the time comes, he gathers all the courage he has and, hopefully nonchalantly, asks you to watch a movie with him with a mini projector march had lent him beforehand. you agree, and it’s the first hurdle cleared. no mishaps so far.

“i’ll make you coffee, the way you like it.” he offers, and feels a flutter in his chest when you smile. if he could, he would bottle the feeling you gave him up and ration it throughout the rest of his life.

“i would love that.”

he gets to work, prepping the sugar and honey as he waits for the water to boil. the conversation between the two of you comes easily, as if the recent incidents didn’t happen at all, and dan heng feels the familiar serenity that comes from being in your presence. it was quiet save for your conversation, and the backdrop of stars outside the train seemed to be even more mesmerising than usual.

but of course, not everything goes according to plan.

the astral express, which had been sailing through the stars so smoothly, lurches from sudden turbulence. you bump against the kettle when you try to stabilise yourself and knock it over. boiling water spills all over the counter and onto the floor.

“watch out!”

not wanting you to be scalded, he grabs your arm and tries to push you away with his back towards the spillage. but his foot steps on the water and he slips, falling forward.

the two of you land on the floor in a heap, inches away from the spill. pure reflexes allow him to minimise the impact of your head meeting the floor by using his other hand as a cushion. he thinks he has bruised his knuckles. he has sprained his wrist.

the thought of the compromising position doesn’t even cross either of your minds. you crawl out from underneath him, and, perceptive as ever, notice when he rubs his wrist and winces.

“dan heng! are you ok?” you fuss over him, hands flitting over his wrist. dan heng feels like he would have enjoyed the attention more if he wasn’t so disappointed that his plans were disrupted. it had been going so well, he mourns. he watches as your back disappears around the corner with promises of finding the first aid kit.

it’s hard for the previous tranquil atmosphere to come back when you obviously felt bad about his wrist (even thought he assured you it was alright and not to worry), and his plans were derailed. the both of you work together to clean up the mess, which took some time, and try to enjoy the movie, but the momentum was lost.

— …

“what do you mean all my plans went bust? i worked so hard to convince pom pom to come with me!” march looks at you in horror.

“i don’t know! i thought you said you were a pro at this! i tried the pick-up line, i tried giving him a gift, and i even spent time alone with him, nothing worked! am I just inept at this love thing?” you shake her by the shoulders, tears of frustration on the edge of falling. march could only feel wronged.

“oh my god. you’re both idiots.”

#march has an aneurysm #so dumb #i want to give dan heng a fat kiss #writings #dan heng x reader #dan heng #hsr x reader #hsr fluff #hsr dan heng #hsr

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wayfayrr · 6 months

Text

Self-conscious captain

the next self aware link and this time it's the captain my favourite boy, warriors!

[masterlist]

“Hey [Name], I’ve been going through some of my old games to clear things out. I found my copy of Hyrule Warriors and wanted to know if you’d like it?”

“I thought that was one of your favourites though, what’s come into you to give it away like this? Do you want anything for it, I’d feel bad simply taking from you.”

“Nah I got it as a gift anyway, I beat the game and did everything there is to do. Plus I know you’ve been wanting to play it anyway, so please have it.”

There’s something off about this, between how skitterish they’re acting and the fact they’re so willing - that they’re so desperate for me to take their favourite game from them? I’ve got nothing else to go off of though, and they are right I have been planning to buy it. They wouldn’t be offering if they didn’t want me to have it so what is there to lose?

“If you’re sure then. I can’t wait to play through it myself rather than watching you.”

Is there such a thing as too much relief? Because if there is then that was definitely it, with how their shoulders relaxed; all the tension left their body as they handed me the game. Why does this feel like the start of a creepypasta, am I simply gonna go home then suddenly there’s some new version of Ben drowned for me to deal with? I won’t know until I play I guess, but it might be fun.

There’s no better time than now to learn though, I’ve got the whole afternoon to myself anyway so why not? Putting the game into my switch; booting it all up it seems fine, so there’s nothing there that should have messed with them. It’s up until the first cutscene for anything to even show up that could be wrong. Link’s eyes seem to be focusing on me far more than they should during it, more than what should be possible, with more of a smile than he usually does during this too. Then I finally get to the level.

I can’t control Link, the game seems to be frozen, not a single bokoblin moving, Link is still moving, the camera isn’t even focused on him now and he’s moving closer to the screen.

“Honeybee? You’re here! I knew your friend would cave pretty face when I pressed them. It’s so nice to have you here alone with me!”

“...What.”

“Oh it’s all alright dear, I did think you’d be a little shocked at first because, well I mean I know this isn’t something that happens very often. Would you be against getting to know me better though?”

What. The. Hell. No wonder they were so eager to pawn the game off to me, a living character that seems to be obsessed with me? If the roles were switched then I’d be throwing it at them as quickly as I could, I’m amazed they could even keep calm for long enough to hand it to me without seeming any more suspicious than they did, he threatened them he’s already admitted that stop lying to yourself [name]. Why does he even want me over the person who actually played as him? None of this makes any sense.

“I - No I wouldn’t, actually could I ask you some questions too? Just y’know, try to get my head around all of this.”

“I’d be more concerned if you didn’t ask me any, I mean right now? You’re treating me more like an actual person than anyone else ever has.”

“...”

“Where would you like to start then honeybee? We can take this at your pace, you’re in full control here.”

Where should I start? There are so many different things I want answers to, I could stay here for hours just talking to him to find out everything; now that I think on that, it’s not like I have anything else planned today. I could simply just stay here for a bit and talk, it’s probably the safer option too. If I don’t, do I really want to test the sanity of a sentient game character, no.

“Um, if it’s all up to me then. Can I ask when you first became aware? Of the fact that you’re you know, a character in a game.”

“Oh, that? Well, it was about three months ago now, two or so weeks before you played with them. They really just saw me as a toy, not caring if I got hurt or anything, which is fair they never knew I was anything more than that; but you didn’t know either and you treated me like a person. You always apologised whenever I took any damage, never tried to get me hurt for your own pleasure or replace me as soon as you could. It was only a matter of time until I started to want you, then it was fairly easy to get eyes in your phone.”

“You've got ‘eyes in my phone?’ what do you mean by that.”

He looks so pleased right now like he wanted me to ask that exact question, it’s such a smug look on his face too. There’s something else to it as well, I can’t pinpoint what but there is certainly another look on his face. With how emotive he is it really doesn’t feel like this is some kind of sick joke, he’s too alive.

“That’s one of the things I’m most proud of!! It was pretty easy when you linked your phone to their switch to download a photo, I just made part of that connection a bit more personal and permanent. I promise I didn’t listen in on anything too private, I swear on Nintendo that I’m not like Cia. I promise.”

“Moving on from… that then. Why’s the real reason you wanted to be with me like this, I mean I get the feeling there’s more to it than you’re letting on.”

“You caught me I actually wa-”

The scowl that crossed his face when he was interrupted by the doorbell was unlike the cheery demeanour he’s been using, it’s almost like he’s angry or jealous of me having my attention split from him; it barely lasts a second though. Before his face swaps to one of remorse possibly because he got so irritated over something so trivial, that needs my focus more than he does right now.

“I think you already know, but I should go check that. I’ll only be a couple of minutes, it’s probably nothing after all.”

Not even a word, just a nod and a look of rejection as if he was a cat I’d had to move off of me when I turned to go and answer the door. True to my word it wasn’t something that going to take long, simply signing for a couple of parcels. It only took me a few minutes to collect it and then start heading back to my room, I’ll be able to open them while I talk to Link after all. Really it would be cruel to make him wait after everything else he’s been through, even if he’s been monitoring… most of my movements, is it bad that I still feel bad after knowing that?

A shrill yelp followed by a shattering sound right when I was about to go back in wasn’t the best sign, the worst thing is that this time there wasn’t a digital overlay. Did someone break in - or break out? Only one way to find out.

“Honeybee? I - I’m sorry I - I really was trying to keep it in one piece.”

He’s out of the game.

Link is in my room bawling his eyes out because he accidentally broke my LED screen, the hero of hyrule is standing in my bedroom crying his eyes out because he broke a piece of glass. Earlier there was always a feeling of him trying to come off as likeable to me, to the point where it was manipulative, he wouldn’t even consider the idea of me not liking him. Now it’s like he’s having a panic attack at the possibility that I won’t like him because he broke my monitor.

“I - I’ll do anything to make it up to you. Please - just - I - I didn’t mean to break it.”

“Link -”

“My clothes would probably be worth a fortune to someone right? I - I mean it’s an actual set of armour from the Hyrulian forces - it’s real chainmail. If you sell it - it’ll more than make up the cost, right? You won’t hate me if I did that, right?”

“Link. I don’t hate you, it was an accident and even if it wasn’t I would forgive you.”

That seemed to snap him out of it, if only a little; he’s still crying but now he’s not rambling about ways to make it up to me. He clearly seems to want me, even if I still don’t entirely get why so maybe I could; opening my arms proves the fact that he really does just want some affection. Waiting wasn’t even on the cards as he practically dove into my arms barely seconds after looking at me for permission.

“You really don’t hate me then? Really? Even though I’m not as good as the other games?”

“I don’t hate you for wanting to get out of what was essentially your prison or - you being as good as the other games? Your game is different but it’s just as good”

“But - you and your friend both said it. I - I’m not canon. You still treated me well that‘s why I fell for you, but I’m still - I’m still less than the other games. So I just, I really wanted to prove to you that I can be the only one for you [name]”

Stroking his hair seems to be calming him down now, the tears are slowing and his breathing is evening out the longer I stay here with him; only a few more moments until I should be able to get some answers from him. Adjusting to having a roommate might be a little strange, he really does seem nice though, nicer than anyone else I’ve ever met. Wait no I’ve only really just met him, why am I already thinking about that? It’s something to consider for certain - oh come on, just admit to yourself that you love this. He cares so why not see where it all goes?

“Canon just describes the story, it doesn’t change anything about you and I’m sorry if it’s ever seemed like that link. Come on, I'll clean the glass up, then you can finish explaining things okay?”

“No wait, it’s my fault, let me clean it up for you. If nothing else, please honey.”

“You don’t have to, it’s not a bother.”

So he already knows his teary puppy face can get me to agree to anything, he’s been here for less than a few hours and it already feels like we’re in a relationship as he knows me inside out… Which makes sense given that he has been watching me through my phone. Maybe it wouldn't be that bad if I stopped fighting against what he’s offering. The gloves he’s wearing make picking up shards less painful than it would be otherwise, doesn’t take him that long either.

Long enough for something to flicker on my switch, but that can wait.

#these boys have my heart and soul #changed my brain chemistry since the first one I wrote for sky #linked universe x reader #yandere linked universe x reader #yandere linked universe #link x reader #yandere link #self aware lu #self aware au #yandere x reader #lu warriors #lu warriors x reader #moss✦writes

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violetsteve · 1 year

Text

If you prefer, this is also posted on AO3

After the almost end of the world, Steve decides he’s going to put the moves on Eddie Munson.

Robin may or may not laugh in his face when he announces it.

The thing is, despite Robin almost laughing him out of the building, the thing is Steve is still figuring out his sexuality. He knows he likes girls, he’s always liked girls, but then Robin pointed out that maybe he couldn’t figure out what he wanted because he wasn’t looking in the right place and Steve realized she was right . Sure, Robin had meant more of a ‘ stop going after girls who are traditionally pretty and from well off families and try going out with girls whose company you actually enjoy’ and not a ‘ hey, dudes are kinda hot, too, right? It was real weird how transfixed you seemed to be on Eddie Munsons lips while we were actively fighting demon monsters,’ but Steve has always been good at reading in between the lines. Or, more like inserting what he wants in the gaps of what people leave unsaid.

So, no, Robin did not tell Steve to open his eyes and realize that straight guys don’t exactly think about how another guys lips will look slick with spit, how they’ll feel under the pressure of his thumb, what the sweet satisfaction of them partying so readily under his will feel like, but she did tell him to broaden his horizons and honestly, they were basically the same thing.

Which is why Steve feels like she should be more supportive of his plans to woo Eddie Munson onto his couch—and maybe, if he’s feeling ambitious, eventually into his bed.

“Robin, come on . I’m serious!” Steve will never admit, even under Russian torture again, that he whines it. He’s coming to Robin as a sounding board, not so she can make fun of him. If he wants someone to make fun of his lack of prowess, he would go talk to Dustin.

Or, yeah on second thought no. He’s not actually sure his ego could take that much of a hit at the moment.

“Sorry, sorry,” she gasps, gripping the—newly rebuilt and polished—family video counter in front of her. “I just—Steve, that’s-that’s so ambitious . You literally just came out to me less than a week ago and you’re already talking about getting with a boy. And Eddie Munson at that.”

Steve scowls at her, crossing his arms over his chest in a way that he knows looks bitchy, but he can’t help it because—

“Don’t say his name like that. He literally almost died to save us all. He’s not fucking dirty .”

Robin immediately sobers, a guilty, but irritated look on her face. “That’s not how I meant it, Steve, and you know it. Don’t get bitchy at me just because you’re feeling sensitive about your feelings for a boy.”

And that’s the crux of it, isn’t it? Steve isn’t really angry at her for laughing—Robin makes fun of him at least 7 times a day, Steve would be more concerned if she didn’t make at least one joke about this—and he isn’t even mad at her for putting a weird emphasis on Eddie’s name. No, he’s all twisted up about his feelings and he’s never been good at expressing them, let alone talking about them. He’s feeling self conscious and his skin is prickling with embarrassment and the easiest thing to do is lash out about it.

“That’s not—“ Steve cuts himself off, looking away from Robin as his shoulders slump. “You’re right,” he mumbles. “Sorry. I just. I wanna fucking kiss him so bad , Rob, and that freaks me out a little.” Steve untucks one of his arms to scrub a hand over his face, leaving the other one tucked around his waist to protect his vulnerable bits.

“Hey,” Robin murmurs, closing the distance between them so she can settle her hands on his shoulders. “I get it. Do you think I acted like a sane person the first time I realized I wanna kiss girls? I think I cried for a week. Kerry the stuffed Koala had to go to therapy because of all of my crying. It was a serious time in the Buckley house.”

Steve smiles behind his hand. He loves her so much. She’s really his best friend. He’s so thankful for her.

“You still cry about kissing girls,” Steve says, rather than admitting any of that. She already knows she’s smart, Steve doesn’t need to add any more to her ego. It just gives her more brain to bully him with.

He drops the hand covering his face to look at her. “Only now it’s more of a,” Steve puts on a high pitched, whiny voice, “‘why do I have to go to work when I could be spending all day making out with my girlfriend.’” He brings both of his hands up to clasp in front of his chest, batting his eyelashes at her in a fake-coy way.

Robin shoves at him, catches him off guard and he goes stumbling backwards into the counter, laughing the whole way.

“Shut up , you absolute dickhead, ” she all but screeches, reaching out to give his chest another shove for good measure. “You literally have no room to talk considering you started this shift by announcing your intentions to, quite literally, crawl into Eddie’s lap and kiss him stupid . That’s almost verbatim what you said, Steve.”

Steve’s still chuckling as he rights his position a little, leaning back against the counter more comfortably. “Yeah, I did say that.” He sucks his bottom lip in between his teeth before he continues with, “I really, really wanna sit on his lap and kiss him until he can’t focus, Rob.”

Robin rolls her eyes, but it’s more fond than annoyed. Steve can tell—he’s been on the receiving end of about 90 percent of Robin’s eye rolls, he’s getting good at distinguishing the emotions behind each one.

“I still can’t believe you have a crush on Eddie Munson of all people. He’s so weird ,” She laughs, but Steve can tell that that, too, is fond. Robin and Eddie have a weird friendship. They geek out over obscure instruments and the nuance of tacky movies together. Steve doesn’t get it, but he enjoys watching how expressive both of them can be. He once watched Eddie climb onto a table while arguing with Robin about one of their movies. Robin followed him up shortly after, though, so Steve isn’t sure why she thinks the weird is limited to Eddie.

“Yeah,” Steve sighs, and he’s man enough to admit that it sounds dreamy . God, he’s pathetic over Eddie. It scares the shit out of him. “You know, the other day he gave me a rock. It wasn’t even, like, a cool rock. It was literally just a rock. When I asked him why he just shrugged and was like ‘I dunno, it made me think of you.’”

Robin’s grin grows. “Oh my God. What did you do with the rock?”

Steve shoots her a disgruntled look. “What do you think I did with the rock? I put in my pocket and then brought it home and set it on my nightstand. Eddie gave it to me, I wasn’t just going to throw it on the ground again. That’s rude.”

Robin absolutely cackles at this, there’s no other way to describe it. She’s awash in glee as she claps her hands together a few times. “ Jesus , Steve. You’ve got it so bad for this man.”

“God,” Steve mutters, running a hand over his face again. “That’s not even the worst part, Rob. He like. He grabs his utensils with his whole fist when he eats. It’s so weird, and it’s so messy . It makes fuck all sense. He doesn't even grab a pencil that way. Just his fucking eating utensils .

“And he walks so chaotic. He just randomly breaks into a sprint. Just starts fucking running out of nowhere. And he bounces. As if the random running wasn’t enough, he just fucking starts jumping. Sometimes he jumps at me, and it’s all I can do to actually catch him before he eats dirt. Or- or he’ll just. Spin. Just twirl in the middle of the sidewalk while still carrying on a conversation.” Steve slumps, his back getting slightly scraped against the counter as he sinks to his butt.

“The man has zero regard for personal space and he always makes way too intense of eye contact. Sometimes he’ll use one of his character voices in the middle of an otherwise totally normal conversation, and he’s always climbing on things. He’s loud and he’s weird and I wanna wrap my fingers around the collar of his shirt, shove him against a wall and then shove my tongue down his throat , jesus christ. ” Steve buries his face in his knees, his mind playing an endless loop of Eddie smiling with those stupid lips that are always cherry red and raw from his constant gnawing. Steve wants to bite them for him.

“Oh, my God, Steve.” Robing sinks down to sit across from him. “This is pathetic . I, like, knew you had a crush on Eddie but this is like. Dangerous territory. Like, the next step might be the L word level territory.”

Steve makes a small squeaking noise, his face still buried in his knees. Robin’s words hint at something that Steve is so not ready to admit to himself yet. She’s hitting way too close to something Steve has been avoiding actively and vehemently since he realized the attraction he feels for boys is decidedly not of the straight variety.

For a moment, neither of them say anything. Then, like the angel she so clearly is, Robin says, “So, wanna tell me about operation ‘crawl into Eddie’s lap and makeout with him?’”

Steve laughs, the tightness in his chest slowly easing. He lifts his head, and then spills his guts.

***

The plan starts simply. First, he needs to get Eddie alone . No annoying tagalongs to potentially interrupt.

It’s easier said than done. For two days straight, Steve asks Eddie to hang out and, somehow, one of the kids manages to weasel into their plans.

It’s driving Steve nuts.

He casually asks Eddie to watch a movie, give him a proper education like him and Robin are always going on about, and Dustin overhears and invites himself.

He asks Eddie to go for a walk, makes an excuse about it being gorgeous outside while he plots ways for the walk to end right outside his house, isn’t that neat, but Lucas and Max overhear and suddenly it’s a group affair.

He asks Eddie to get milkshakes, plans to lure him back to his house with the promise of complete control of Steve’s record player, but El overhears and asks if she can tag along and Steve just can’t look into her big, earnest eyes and tell her no. He’s not a monster.

So they get milkshakes with El, and it’s fun . Of course it’s fun, but Steve is getting desperate . It’s been a little over a week since he hatched his mad plan with Robin and he’s about to start climbing the walls with anticipation.

It doesn’t help that Eddie has a mother fucking oral fixation. At every opportunity he’s either putting stuff in his mouth or chewing on something. It’s fucking rude, is what it is. It’s like he doesn’t even realize Steve is suffering.

It all finally comes to a head a full week and four days after his conversation with Robin on the floor of Family Video. He’s stopping by Eddie’s house to grab something Dustin left behind because Dustin asked and he’s nice . It’s maybe also because it’s a great excuse to see Eddie, but Dustin sure as shit doesn’t need to know that that’s the sole reason Steve said he will.

Eddie is slightly bent over, riffling through his Dungeons and Dorks stuff, and Steve is trying so hard to pretend like he’s not entirely focusing on his ass and the line of exposed skin above his belt. If Eddie turns around right now, he’s busted for sure.

Eddie’s just mentioned some kind of dragon when he lets out a triumphant noise, his story coming to an abrupt halt as he spins on his heel to face Steve.

“Aha!” He exclaims, thrusting a notebook in Steve's direction.

Steve automatically reaches out to take it, his fingers brushing over the backs of Eddie’s in the switch over. Eddie bites his bottom lip at the contact, avoiding Steve’s gaze, and suddenly all Steve is thinking about is his mouth.

Steve debates with himself for a moment. This isn’t really how he planned to seduce his way into Eddie Munson’s lap, but he’s adaptable. If the years of almost apocalypses have taught Steve anything, it’s that sometimes you have to make do with what you have.

And what Steve has is an empty trailer save the two of them, and a couch less than ten feet away. He’s got the object of his affections standing in front of him, and Steve decides to adapt.

He wets his own lips, stepping towards Eddie. His hand is still holding Eddie’s hostage over the notebook.

“Thanks, Eddie,” Steve murmurs, ducking his head so he can look up through his lashes.

Steve watches Eddie’s breath catch, watches him stutter over his next sentence.

“Y-yeah,” he breathes out, his eyes flicking between Steve’s eyes and his mouth at a rapid speed. “Of c-course. I mean, it happens. Kids forget things. I’m sure Dustin just wanted to, like, go over the last session's notes for anything he missed.”

“Of course,” Steve agrees, taking another step into Eddie’s space. He’s aware that he’s primarily staring at Eddie’s lips, which is probably rude, but he can’t help it. They’re wet and shiny and Steve has been thinking about them an obsessive amount for the last week and a half.

“We’re, um, I-I mean they’re going against a red dragon,” Eddie continues. Steve’s aware of this. It’s what Eddie had been telling him when he’d found the notebook. “They’re very powerful, almost impossible to defeat.”

“Are they?” Steve’s only half following the conversation, but that’s not saying much. He has a hard time keeping up with the DnD talk on a regular day.

“Oh yeah,” Eddie says, and then he’s off. He starts spitting words so fast Steve wouldn’t be able to keep up even if he were paying complete attention.

“Eddie,” Steve says, but Eddie is still talking, still mumbling along about the red dragon.

“Eddie,” Steve tries again, but it’s like he’s shouting in an empty room. He knows Eddie knows he’s talking to him, can tell by how wide Eddie’s eyes are, how he’s not even trying to not slur his rapidfire words together. If Eddie was talking about dragons for the hell of it, he’d be gesticulating and probably climbing on things. As it were, he’s got his gaze fixed on Steve, eyes comically wide as his words rush together—barely getting one out before the next slew rush into it in a truly amusing word traffic jam.

Eddie’s nervous , and fuck if that doesn’t thrill Steve to his core. Steve takes the final step towards him to completely close the distance and—

Eddie takes a step back, his words stuttering along with Steve’s heart in his chest. He wasn’t expecting that, wasn’t expecting Eddie to back away from him so quickly. Steve has half a second to be hurt, to mentally kick himself because get a fucking clue , Harrington, before he catches Eddie’s eyes darting down to his lips, his tongue unconsciously swiping along his lower lip before his gaze skitters back up to Steve’s.

And, oh, yeah , Steve has him exactly where he wants him. Eddie isn’t stepping back because he doesn’t want Steve. No, he’s stepping back because he’s prey . Steve is stalking towards him with a single minded focus and Eddie is skittering backwards like a scared rabbit—bouncing back step by step as Steve approaches until his back collides with the wall. That, finally, seems to knock all their air out of Eddie. The dragon conversation dies on his lips as Steve finally—fucking finally —closes the remaining distance between them. He reaches out, cupping Eddie's cheek in one hand, his jaw in the other, all while pressing up against Eddie from hip to chest.

“ Eddie, ” Steve murmurs, his eyes hooding. This time, Steve feels Eddie’s breath catch, feels the way a tremor works its way through Eddie’s body. He’s staring up at Steve with wide, wild eyes. He looks like a deer caught in a trap—ready to break his leg trying to get away if he needs to.

Steve isn’t sure why that makes him feel a little wild, but it does.

He stretches his thumb out to swipe across Eddie's bottom lip—already bitten and red from Eddie’s nervous chewing. God , it drives Steve crazy . He has a half-hysterical thought about offering his own up for Eddie to chew on when he’s nervous. Eddie makes him crazy .

Steve licks at his own lips as he watches the way his thumb catches and drags and the swollen skin of Eddie’s bottom lip. Eddie’s trembling in earnest now, and Steve feels his pulse thundering in his ears. He wants to kiss Eddie so bad his fucking toes are curling with the anticipation.

He flicks his gaze up, away from Eddie’s lips up to his eyes and he has to fight back a groan. Eddie looks fucking wrecked and Steve hasn’t even kissed him yet. His eyes are wide and wild, his pupils blown and there’s a scarlet flush in his cheeks. He’s fucking panting against Steve’s face and he can’t take it any more. He really, really can’t. He has to kiss him—screw anticipation, screw driving Eddie past the brink. He needs and he needs now.

“ Eddie, ” Steve practically gasps . “Eddie, please.” Steve squeezes his eyes shut as his body unconsciously rocks forward, seeking even more of Eddie out. “Wanna kiss you so bad, please say I can, please—”

And before Steve can get another plea out, Eddie’s slamming his head forward with enough force to knock their teeth together in an uncomfortable clack ; enough force that their noses knock together in a painful way.

But Steve doesn't care . He doesn’t care because Eddie’s lips are on his and he feels like there’s liquid fire coursing through his veins. He feels lit up from the inside out as Eddie finally, finally touches him back. He fists a hand in the back of Steve’s shirt, the other winding through Steve’s hair and fuck it’s finally happening. After night upon night of imagining what kissing Eddie Munson would be like, Steve’s finally doing it.

And goddamn is he doing it. Eddie’s lips are slick against his, hot and encouraging . They slide together in a way that has Steve’s mind going blissfully blank, his only thoughts being hotwetyesmore.

He kisses him messy, lips moving together in a too fast pace that neither of them can keep track of; bruising force in the way their lips slide, spit sliping from their parted lips in a slow trickle that has Steve’s fingers curling against Eddie’s jaw.

He uses that hand to tilt Eddie’s head up slightly, angling it enough that Steve can get his bottom lip between his own and suck slightly. The first slid of Eddie’s lip between Steve’s own has him seeing fucking stars .

A punched out groan breaks free from Eddie’s throat and he rocks forward into Steve, seeking more . The hand in the middle of his back pulls and Steve is helpless to do anything but push Eddie more firmly into the wall. He knows it has to hurt, has to be restricting Eddie’s breathing with how tightly they’re pressed together, but he can’t take enough focus away from Eddie’s mouth to care . Plus, if Eddie minds that much he wouldn’t be pulling Steve closer .

Eddie breathes a wet gasp into Steve’s mouth when he takes his teeth to the lip still tucked between his own, and Steve can’t help but let out a gasp of his own. Eddie tastes fucking phenomenal. He can taste the lingering tobacco on his tongue, the salty tang of the popcorn he must have had earlier, and just the overwhelming taste of Eddie. Hot, sweet, fucking sublime. Steve‘s never been a particularly religious man, but he feels like he’s drinking heaven straight from Eddie’s mouth. With every gasp, every moan, every brush of Eddie’s tongue, he feels one step closer to absolution. It’s addicting .

God , he wants more. He wants Eddie’s hands all over him, on bare skin. He wants those deft musicians fingers to snake into his hair, tug a bit. He wants Eddie over him and under him and—

He stills suddenly, a thought occurring to him. The line that had triggered this whole thing—his announcement to Robin back in Family Video—and suddenly there’s a burning need in Steve’s gut. God, he needs to sit in Eddie’s lap right now. Needs to feel his strong thighs under him, needs Eddie’s hands on his ass and his tongue in his mouth.

“ Fuck, ” Steve bites out when he pulls back. Tearing his mouth away from Eddie’s is so much harder than it has any right to be.

Eddie’s staring at Steve with glassy eyes, his lips shiny and red and oh fuck even his chin is glistening with their spit. Steve wants to devour him.

“Go sit on the couch,” Steve says, and is pleasantly surprised that his voice only sounds a little rough, a little shaky.

“What?” Eddie croaks out, staring at Steve for a beat. Then, miracle of miracles, he does it. He stares at Steve the whole time, the glassy look getting a little clearer, and Steve thinks that simply will not do.

The minute Eddie is seated, Steve’s crawling his way into his lap. He wedges his knees into the crease at the back of the couch, shuffling as far forward as he can so their chests are pressing together, their clothed crotches aligning. Then, without giving Eddie a chance to adjust, he drops down, pressing the full weight of his ass into Eddie’s thighs and, by proximity, his dick.

“ Jesus Christ ,” Eddie swears, his hands shooting out to grab at Steve’s ass on instinct. Steve almost giggles . It’s exactly what he wants.

“You can just call me Steve,” he mutters, and before Eddie can reply, he’s sweeping in and claiming Eddie’s lips again. Eddie huffs against his mouth, but let’s Steve have the last word. Steve’s glad because he has plans .

Plans that start with Steve winding those thick curls around his fingers as he slides his lips against Eddie’s. Eddie pushes his head back into Steve’s hands like a cat, and it makes Steve smile into their kiss, which makes Eddie smile into the kiss. It’s like a domino effect—once Steve feels Eddie’s smile against his, he starts giggling like a schoolgirl. He can’t help it, this feels unreal in the best possible way.

Then Eddie’s off, giggling back into Steve’s mouth. They’re both just sitting there giggling at each other, eyes squinted and happy . God, Steve feels euphoric in this moment, perched in Eddie’s lap like it’s his throne, with Eddie’s hands on his ass.

Eddie pulls back after a moment, when their smiles are too wide to actually kiss. He brings a hand up to gently brush a strand of hair away from Steve’s eyes, tucking the long lock behind his ear before putting his hand back on Steve’s ass.

“You’re unbelievable, Steve Harrington,” Eddie whispers, eyes so full of affection that Steve feels his insides turn to mush. He squirms in Eddie’s laps, ducking his head to mouth at Eddie’s neck because if he stares into his eyes any longer he’s going to do something stupid . Stupid like admit that he’s pretty fucking sure he’s in love with Eddie, has been since he gave him that dumb rock for no decernable reason other than he wanted to, because he was thinking of Steve.

Steve tongues at the tendon in Eddie’s neck that’s stretched taunt, rubs his nose along his jaw and up to the hollow under his ear. Eddie laughs, tilting his head sideways to give Steve easier access.

“Oh, now you’re gonna be shy? After you practically pounced on me earli—”

Eddie’s words cut off in a choked groan as Steve bites, hard , at the tendon he was just showing attention to.

“ Steve, ” Eddie gasps, but Steve doesn’t let him do any other talking. No, he’s not going to let Eddie derail him again. So, he dives back for Eddie’s mouth, licking into it, not slowing down and not giving Eddie a chance to catch up. He smooths his tongue alongside Eddie’s, lets Eddie push back against it with his own for a millisecond, before he’s switching tactics—licking behind the top row of Eddie’s teeth, sliding his tongue over Eddie’s bottom lip.

Eddie squeezes his ass at the sudden onslaught, and Steve can’t help the small jerk his body gives at that. He grinds down, a gasp trapped in the humid air between them as sharp waves of pleasure shoot up his spine. He’s trapped in between Eddie’s lips and his hands and he feels like he’s high with it.

He’s enjoying himself so much.

He slides his tongue along Eddie’s again, enjoys the way it's slightly rough and gloriously slick against his own. Enjoys the way it makes his pulse thrum a little faster, his fingers grip a little tighter where they’re fisted in Eddie’s hair—the way it makes Eddie squeeze a little tighter, which makes Steve grind down a little harder.

Steve feels the evidence of Eddie’s interest, has been feeling it, and knows Eddie has to be aware of Steve’s own. And Steve’s fantasized about Eddie’s lips for so long that he’s tried to keep it to just that—tried to focus on the heady drag of lips on lips—but it’s hard to ignore the way Steve’s own hips are twisting down, seeking as much of Eddie as possible. Hard to ignore the way Eddie has his own feet planted on the floor, meeting Steve’s hips with firm thrusts of his own.

They’re sharing humid air and sharp gasps, their lips swollen and honestly sore . Steve’s lips ache in the best way he’s ever felt, and Steve doesn’t want to stop. Wants to sit right here on Eddie’s strong thighs, wants to feel Eddie’s teeth nipping at the too sensitive skin of his mouth, wants to kiss Eddie for the rest of his life .

They kiss and kiss and kiss, and Steve has never just kissed someone like this. He’s never kissed just to feel, kissed just for the pleasure of it with no expectations for what’s to follow. He feels intoxicated. He’s utterly, wholly blissed out on Eddie Munson’s mouth and he never wants it to end.

They kiss for so long that Steve has honestly started to lose feeling in his lips. It’s weird feeling them so sore, so numb. But they are, so he slowly, so slowly pulls back. Leaning down for a few lingering pecks as he puts a little distance between their mouths.

Eddie’s mouth is bright red, spit slick and so tempting. Steve watches with fascination as a single string of spit connects their lips, stretching until he’s put enough distance between them that it breaks.

Steve bites his lip on a moan, thinks that’s one of the hottest things he’s ever seen.

He meets Eddie’s gaze. His eyes are wild, pupils blown out. His hair is an absolute disaster from the way Steve’s been running his fingers through it, and his cheeks are flushed so prettily. Steve can’t resist sneaking one more kiss in, lingering around afterwards to rub their noses together.

“Hi,” Steve finally murmurs and fuck, is that his voice? Jesus, he sounds wrecked.

“Hi,” Eddie says back, his smile verging on loopy. “Did you know that some corvids can understand physics?”

Steve stares at him for a beat, a little stunned and a lot confused by the abrupt topic switch. Eddie stares back, a look on his face that Steve can only take for regret, his already pink face is turning positively crimson.

It’s dead quiet for a moment, then Steve bursts into laughter. His chest absolutely swells with affection, with, fuck it, love. God damn , he can’t deny it any longer. The love he feels for this boy sitting under him is overwhelming at the best of times, and it feels like it’s just bursting out of him at this moment. He’s coming apart at the seams with his feelings for Eddie, and he’s done trying to pretend that they’re anything but that.

“Oh my God, ” Eddie mutters, bringing his hands up to hide his face. It’s so endearing. Steve is endeared. “Sorry, fuck. I don’t know why I just said that.”

“Jesus Christ, dude.” Steve’s still grinning down at Eddie, moving his hands to clasp around Eddie’s wrists, trying to pry his hands away. He never wants to not be looking at Eddie. He’s so fucking weird and Steve likes him so much. “I like you so fucking much .”

Eddie lets Steve pull his hands away, and he…there’s no other word for it, Eddie just absolutely lights up. It’s like Steve’s staring directly at the sun. Eddie is beaming up at him, his smile so wide that his eyes are basically closed. He has laugh lines, and Steve is already obsessed with them, already thinking of ways to make Eddie smile this wide, this radiant all the time.

“Yeah?” Eddie asks.

“Oh, yeah,” Steve confirms. “Just ask Robin. I’ve been whining about it for weeks .”

Eddie laughs again, his grin not dimming in the slightest, and Steve just has to taste it—has to get his mouth around Eddie’s happiness. So, he swoops back in, feels Eddie’s laughter transfer to him via their connected mouths, feels a piece of himself that’s long been looking for a home finally slot into place.

#LOOK #i just think eddie is the type of person to say the most interesting facts at the worst possible time #and i think steve is kinda into that #idiot 4 idiot yknow?#anyway no idea where this came from #this fic struck me like a fever and would not leave until i purged it #so enjoy!#steddie #steddie fic rec #steve harrington/eddie munson #steve harrington/eddie munson fic #steddie fan fiction #my writing

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