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sarahisslytherin · 2 months

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𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐔𝐌 || 𝐁.𝐁.

summary: you’ve been receiving love letters from a secret admirer and you’re desperate to reveal his identity. contains: benedict being fucking adorable, fluff n’ angst! a/n: first part of this multi-chapter fic.

It was a day like any other. You woke to the humming of the maid, the hum-drum of life about the house. You rubbed sleep from your eyes as you reluctantly got out of bed. You selected your gown for the day after scouring through your wardrobe of various shades of pastel. You bid good morning to the servants as you made your way downstairs and joined your family for breakfast. There your mother urgently reminded you (as if you had forgotten from one day to the next) the importance that you find yourself a suitor, someone of good rank.

But you barely had any mind to pay her; for it was elsewhere, with another. You cut your breakfast short, unable to bear any more talk of suitors and marriage and a life without love. You were buttoning your coat when an angel descended the staircase. Well, it wasn’t truly an angel; only your lady’s maid, but the letter she held in her hand couldn’t have been any more sacred to you. She passed it to you and your eyes met hers, the looks you exchanged almost like those of two best friends trading gossip, or in this case, your own little secret.

You slipped the sealed envelope into your coat pocket before finally stepping out the door and down the front steps. Outside, London was alive and full of the colors of spring. Though you could’ve walked the streets for hours on end, you opted to head straight to the park and sat down on the nearest bench. You sifted through your pocket, pulling the envelope out. You couldn’t help noting that it smelled of lavender and cinnamon as you gently broke the seal. There, the words you had been waiting anxiously to read.

Dearest,

I dreamt of you last night. I dreamt of those eyes so deep I was tempted to swim in them. Of that laugh so melodious I was tempted to turn it into a symphony. Of the lips so sweet I was tempted to kiss them. Alas, I know not if I shall ever reveal myself to you. I know you must be dying to figure me out. But you must understand I couldn’t bear to be rejected by you. You drive me mad! When I am awake, you occupy my every thought, and when I sleep you visit me in dreams! I am a tormented man, but oh, how smitten I am with my torment! I clutch it to my chest and carry it with me wherever I go. How could I not? When it was you who gave it to me. Such a state of delirium is the one you have driven me to, simply by existing. Anyway, all this to say that I love you and always will. Write to me, my love. I’ll be waiting.

You pressed the piece of paper to your heart, beating faster than ever. You folded the letter back and let it fall into your pocket once more before starting for the Bridgerton house. It took every fiber in you to go on with this written affair for months on end without uttering a word to your good friend Daphne. But you felt it was something too precious, too fragile to speak of; like a creature as easily spooked as it is beautiful.

This was what you repeated to yourself in your mind when you arrived at the Bridgertons’, and Daphne swore you had a glow about you only people in love wear.

“Come now, who is it?” she teased as she delicately sipped her tea. “You must tell me!”

You shook your head with a playful roll of your eyes. “There truly is nothing to tell, Daph. You must believe me.”

“Nonsense!” she poked on. “I wish to know the lucky gentleman who has you so obviously smitten.” It was then that the others entered the parlor. Anthony, with Kate on his arm, and Colin and Benedict following suit. “Fill us in on today’s gossip, sister.” jested Benedict as he lounged on the nearest chaise with his usual happy-go-lucky air. How handsome he looked today, his jet black hair shiny as ever, his grey eyes twinkling with mischief.

“There’s nothing to share, you busybody.” Daphne scolded him lightly. “Mind your own affairs.” At this, Benedict shot you a cheeky look, one you couldn’t help but return. You wondered if your secret admirer was as handsome as he was, as sweet and boyish.

“Oh!” Daphne exclaimed suddenly. “I forgot to tell you! We are holding a ball this weekend! Isn’t that exciting?” You felt yourself light up at the news. Exciting indeed. Many things can happen at a ball, dances shared and souls intertwined, and perhaps a certain identity revealed.

tagging: @velvetcloxds @oweninadaydream @holdthegirrrl

#benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x y/n #bridgerton #benedict bridgerton fluff #benedict bridgerton oneshot

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rebelfell · 3 months

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Currently being plagued by thoughts of an older!fem!Harrington!reader... 18+, MDNI

Like you’re Steve's aunt, late 30s/early 40s.

And you have always been kind of a fuck-up compared to your "perfect" older sister who got the good grades and who every guy in school had a crush on; who married the rich, handsome dude and popped out a kid and lives in this big house in this picture-perfect suburban neighborhood.

And you tried to do all that, too—really, you did. But your husband ex turned out to be an asshole, and he's got a really good lawyer so he's probably gonna get the house in the divorce.

So you move into your sister's for the summer because they're gonna be in Europe and they’d prefer someone be there to keep an eye on Steve who's home from college and tends to get a little out of control when he's left unsupervised...

And one day you’re woken up from a nap by the loud, relentless grinding of a lawnmower and look out your window to see the gardener.

He's young. Maybe Steve's age if not a touch older. And he is just stunning. So Beautiful it is hard to look at him, but in your current state, staring at him is about all you can do.

Alabaster skin decorated with black ink, dark curls tied up in a bun to keep them off his sticky neck. Threadbare tank top clinging to his slender frame he's so drenched with sweat from the heat. Arm and leg muscles flexing, shiny with sweat.

Then suddenly he stops and his eyes drift to the upstairs window to lock onto yours. You freeze in place, wondering if he can even see you, and just when you’ve convinced yourself he can't...a smile curls across his lips and he raises his hand to wiggle his fingers at you in a wave.

And it makes you fling yourself away from the window, knocking into the dresser and sending your make-up rolling over the top. And it hits you now, far too late, that you were just staring at him wearing nothing but sleep shorts and a camisole. One that did absolutely nothing to conceal how hard your nipples were.

Jesus Christ—what were you thinking? Staring at this guy like some horned-up teenager?

What is wrong with you?

You yank the curtains closed and hide in your room until you're certain he's gone. And by the time Steve comes home for dinner, your hair is wet from the cold shower you had to take when you couldn't stop imagining what it would be like if instead of mowing the lawn, that guy had come running upstairs to trim your hedges.

Seriously...what the fuck is wrong with you?

Then a couple days later the heat spikes to an oppressive degree. You put on your suit and are dancing in the kitchen, stirring up something cool and sweet to sip by the pool, crushing some fresh mint to add into the pitcher.

And you hear a splash. A big one.

Your head whips around to look out the window just in time to see that familiar head of dark curls bursting through the surface. He swings his head wildly like a dog, flipping his long hair out of his face before he dunks himself back in the water.

It's not panic that stops you in your tracks this time, but rage. What the hell is the gardener doing swimming in your sister's pool?

"Hey! What do you think you're doing?"

Your voice is commanding as you storm out onto the pool deck, but your cover-up isn't tied around your waist so it flies open behind you to reveal the shape of your body. And you kind of can’t squash the prickle of shame at the thought of this young guy seeing all your cellulite up close.

He turns toward you, awfully smiley for someone who just got caught trespassing. And his eyes are bright as he looks you up and down, the rays of sun hitting them just right so his deep brown irises glow like the richest honey.

Nope, nope. You're not gonna be flustered this time. You're not, you're not, you're not—

"Just waiting for you, sweetheart,” he says.

His voice is too smooth for his own good, words dripping from his lips the way water drips from his bangs and runs down his handsome features. You roll your eyes and feel your hands settling on your cocked hips. It's a stance you often find yourself in, wishing it was more intimidating. An inherited trait, you guess, considering how your nephew would stand the exact same way sometimes.

"Since when do gardeners get swimming privileges?" you scoff, eyes narrowing.

He just glances around at the freshly mown lawn, grass looking lush despite the sweltering heat.

"Didn't I do a good job? Don't I deserve a reward?"

The sun beating down overhead would be easy to blame for the way your body gets hot all over just from the way he says it, his brow arching to drive home his meaning, as if you couldn't tell.

"Take that up with your boss when she's back on this side of the Atlantic. For now, you can take a hike before I call the cops.”

A plush pink lip juts out in an exaggerated pout, but he shrugs his shoulders in an admission of defeat. He plants his palms flat on the concrete, forgoing the ladder and the steps to lift himself out of the pool to stand directly in front of you.

Water spills over his pale shoulders, rivulets of it running down the planes of his back and body you have to purposefully tear your eyes away from. He's not even in a bathing suit, just the same pair of ratty black jeans cut off into shorts he'd mown the lawn in just days prior.

He's still smirking, all sly and as he takes one last long look at you before he saunters away. And in spite of yourself, you glance over your shoulder to watch him as he goes, eyes drawn to a tattoo of a broadsword that starts between his shoulders and runs down the length of his spine, the tip of the blade ending just above the small of his back.

He pauses at the gate and shoots one last look back at you, clearly pleased to have caught you ogling him again—and fucking winks.

And he does leave, but now you’re all frustrated and flustered and too pent up to even attempt at relaxing now. So you give up on your swim and go to the store instead, the trip taking longer than it should because you don't—or can't—stop yourself from thinking about this guy.

You’re certain he had to be messing with you. What else besides an ego boost would a young guy like him get out of flirting with someone like you? A divorcee a decade older than him? Please. He probably had his pick of the litter in a town as small as Hawkins. All dark and wild, mysterious and dangerous and…

God—why did he have to be so hot? It would be so much easier to ignore him if he weren't.

Then you finally get back, cranky and tired and struggling under the weight of all your groceries. And when you push open the door and step into the foyer, you freeze in place again.

Because there he is. Splayed out on the couch, his knees spread wide, his long hair a little damp. Smiling at you all pleased with himself, like he’s been waiting for you. Cocky, even.

Like he planned it this way.

It all makes you gape, your mouth hanging open in total disbelief as you drop your bag at the door and draw your breath to snap at him.

"What are you—"

"Hey, you're home!"

Steve cuts you off as he strides into the living room, coming from the kitchen holding a couple of beers. He passes one to the guy on the couch, who's grinning like he ate a whole menagerie of canaries, and Steve nods in your direction.

"This is my aunt I was telling you about."

Those dark brown eyes rove freely over you now, no light shining in them this time as he smiles into the mouth of the bottle he's raising to his lips.

"Hey, there," he says, wiggling those long fingers at you all over again. "I'm Eddie."

#welp #I couldn’t sleep and now this exists #so that’s how things are going #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie stranger things #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson imagine #stranger things fanfiction #TSITA

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atrueneutral · 1 month

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Bath, Bed & Beyond - Raphael x Tav

After weeks of constant battles and near-death-experiences, it was a slap in the face that the Crown of Karsus ended up in the Chionthar.

It could have fallen anywhere else but in the river.

It could have been easy.

Had it landed on the docks, Tav would have plucked it from the ground like any other item she pilfered. She’d have put it in her pack and would have promptly gone off to deliver the all-powerful Netherese artifact to Raphael - satisfying the terms of her contract.

But no! Nothing was ever as easy as it could have been; it wasn’t easy convincing Rolan to spend time on the docks casting spells on her and supplying her with potions; it wasn’t easy deep diving into the murky river waters for days on end; and it certainly wasn’t easy finding the godsdamn Crown of Karsus!

Bloody thing was a pain in her ass…

She should have listened to her friends, and she shouldn’t have made a deal with a devil…

Much to Rolan’s chagrin, Raphael had shown a number of times over the course of her search. He, apparently, “wanted to see how she was faring”, and, according to the wizard, seemed to find amusement in her desperation of trying to find the object that would see him rule the Hells.

One night, after failing to find her missing treasure, Tav wondered out loud why Raphael didn’t help her; it didn’t make sense that he’d prolong his ambitions after all of the salivating he did whenever he spoke of the Crown.

Rolan suggested maybe there was a secret time limit buried in the nooks and crannies of her contract. Maybe Raphael wanted her to fail because he wanted her soul.

“He’s waited this long, I’m sure he can afford to wait a bit longer to ensure he gets both you and the Crown of Karsus. He’s a devil - are you really so surprised that he’d desire to keep you as well?”

To that, she called Rolan crazy, but Tav searched harder in the days that followed (out of fear that she was racing an invisible clock), and she eventually found what she was looking for.

—

Tav entered the Devil’s Den without knocking. She cared not that it was rude. She cared little about anything outside of fulfilling her contract, taking a bath, and sleeping for a very, very long time. Fatigue wreaked havoc on her body after recent events and days of stressful swimming, and the too long of a walk that brought her to Rivington drained her to the brink of wanting to fall over.

She ambled into the suite, and Raphael’s mortal visage made a face at her appearance - namely her water-logged countenance of damp hair and damp clothes that reeked of river water.

She hoped her exhaustion came off as apathy.

“Your message stated you had something specific for me?” he asked.

He was referencing the message she sent with a Scroll of Sending roughly an hour and a half ago. With it, she said: “I have your stupid Crown. Where should I meet you? Are you coming to the docks? Please come to the docks.”

Panting had, unfortunately, been included in-between some of her words.

Tav blinked, and her eyes went from staring longingly at the steaming bath littered with flower petals to the cambion who appraised her with a raised brow.

“I do,” she answered, and Tav reached into her pack for the Crown. She crossed over to him, revealed the artifact, and Raphael’s mask of composure cracked.

Ambition bled from the fissures - his dreams would not remain dreams much longer…

With the current most important dream realized, a shaky breath left Raphael as he accepted and held the Crown in his hand. Tav rummaged around for the Netherstones, and she placed them on a nearby desk when it became clear that Raphael was having a moment between himself and his new shiny and dangerous toy.

She glanced down to see if he had an erection, and sure enough, a bulge was forming from inside his pants.

“Raphael?” she prompted.

“Hm?”

The Crown and fantasies of grandeur had successfully enthralled him.

“Is my contract fulfilled?”

“Yes.”

When he did not procure said contract, Tav sighed.

“Can I trust that you’ll see to completing my contract… when you’re done?”

“Mm, yes.”

Rolan was wrong; he did not want her or her soul. Raphael’s interest in his little mouse was purely in being a delivery tool for his precious artifact, and Tav found herself feeling oddly crestfallen at the verdict. It was nothing more than devilish amusement (or a form of punishment) that kept him from helping her fetch the Crown from the Chionthar.

“Great, thank you. Goodbye, Raphael.”

She turned and took a step for the door.

“Leaving so soon, Little Mouse?”

The rich purr of his voice stilled her.

“The delivery has been made, and you are preoccupied,” she answered, facing him again.

“Pardon my momentary lapse - I assure you it won’t happen again.” As if to make a point, he went to where the Netherstones were gathered and placed the Crown beside them. He leaned against the desk, blocking the artifact’s view from him and her. “Thank you for bringing me the Crown. I knew you wouldn’t fail - just as you knew failure wasn’t an option. You must regale me what the depths of the Chionthar look like sometime over dinner. The smell of the river, however, I could do without.”

Understanding his insinuation that she smelled, she gave him a thin lipped smile. “Then I shall be on my way...”

“You misunderstand, my dear!” Raphael gestured theatrically for the bath, and his features became predatory. “Stay awhile, won’t you? I will fulfill your contract before your very eyes, and you will sleep soundly tonight knowing you made the right choice in bargaining with a devil.”

The bath did look inviting…

“If you’d like, you have my permission to rest your weary head in this room,” he continued. “The bed is quite cozy - not nearly as comfortable as the bed in my House of Hope, but you know that already, don’t you?”

Tav’s blood went cold at his mention of her uninvited visit.

“Sorry about that…” she offered sheepishly, meaning it. Haarlep’s use of her body had become a nuisance, yet it often aroused her to think it was Raphael who benefitted and used the unintentional gift she left behind.

Based on the look in his eyes, he did.

Snap!

A contract materialized from within a plume of smoke and embers, and the infernal words etched into the parchment glowed. At Raphael’s behest and a wave of his hand, a new emblem-like symbol was magically inscribed before the parchment went up in flames.

“It’s been an Absolute pleasure doing business with you, Little Mouse.”

Oh no - his stare was making her feel warm in places.

Maybe Rolan was right in some regard.

Maybe Raphael did want her.

“Likewise,” Tav responded. “And I appreciate you loaning me the room.”

She waited for him to leave.

She expected him to leave.

Oh no.

He wasn’t leaving.

“Aren’t you leaving?” she questioned, intending on taking advantage of his offer to stay and use the room’s bath and bed.

“Leave? And miss the sight of you bathing? I think not.”

She flushed.

“Ah.” Tav peered at the bath, then back at Raphael. “You’re not planning on joining me are you?”

He smiled devilishly. “Would you like me to?”

Yes.

“No, that’s alright.” Tav went to the bath and began to shed her pack and gear. When it came time to remove her boots, she decided to test the waters by turning the act of undressing into a show. She sat upon the bath’s edge and, with deliberate slowness, gracefully peeled away her footwear. “Are the flower petals your idea or are they an added flourish from the staff?”

“Do you like them?”

“I do.”

“They are my personal touch - just for you.”

The expression she threw at him while she undressed was filled with skepticism.

“You can stop trying to charm me, Raphael. The contract is done, you got what you wanted, and I’m in the middle of taking my clothes off.” Somewhere along the way her voice became decidedly more… seductive. “I wouldn’t normally allow you to watch the latter, but it’s conjecture to think that you’ve already seen me naked.”

It was thrilling to see that she enthralled him just as much as the Crown of Karsus. He was silent, his eyes blazing as he watched her stand and push her breeches down. Tav’s thumbs next hooked into the top of her panties and she slowly, teasingly, shimmied the undergarment past her thighs. They pooled at her feet, and she stepped out of them and her breeches, pushing both aside to be with the rest of her stripped attire.

He could not yet see her sex, as it was hidden by her tunic, but the shirt was soon gracefully pulled over her head and thrown onto the pile.

Raphael visibly swallowed.

Tav reached around to undo the fastenings of her brasserie. The undergarment went slack, and she quickly held the front to her with a hand before it could fall away.

She turned to face the bathwater and discarded the top with a flick of the wrist.

The cambion let out a low hum. Whether in approval of seeing her bare backside or in disapproval or not seeing her nude state in its entirety, she couldn’t tell.

“Was this your plan?” Tav asked innocently as she bravely stepped into the steaming water. It was hot - excessively hot, but after waging and winning a war against a Netherbrain, after spending too long in the cold Chionthar, and after completing a deal with a devil…

It was heaven.

“What plan are you speaking of, my dear? I have many.”

Tav waded to the center of the bath, water rippling up to her thighs. She glanced at the cambion from over her shoulder with a smirk, and then rotated to give him a full-frontal view.

A deep-rooted hunger befell Raphael, and Tav mentally marked a point under her name: where the Crown failed in fully arousing him, she succeeded.

“When I sent my message to you, you sounded insistent on meeting here and advised that I shouldn’t tarry. You could have come to the docks, which, by the sound of things, you were fond of doing.” Tav lowered into the water while wincing and biting her lip at the temperature. “I was going to accuse you of wanting me smelly and exhausted so you could easily persuade me to take a bath as you watched, but, now that I’m thinking about it, I do recall there being a full bath and a smattering of flower petals when I initially met you here and signed the contract. Who was the bath for then? Voss? My companions and I?”

“I was merely setting the scene for my most important client of the day! I would never go to such efforts for Voss, nor your companions - nor for any other mortal whose name is but a tiny drop in the ocean of souls I’ve collected. It was all for you, Little Mouse.” Raphael crept towards the bath - a predator moving in on his prey. “Today I wished again to set the scene - with a reward. Now that you are without your troublesome friends and an even more troublesome tadpole, you can relax and enjoy without impediment! Soak, my dear! Soak and be content in your hard-earned and well-deserved bath, then off to bed with you…”

Tav reached for a fresh bar of soap that smelled distinctly like cherries and she ran it across her chest after wetting it. She batted eyelashes that suddenly felt heavy due to the talk of bed.

“Are you going to tuck me in, Raphael?”

His chuckle was downright sinful.

“Yes, I’ll even read you a bedtime story.”

“Oh?” Tav languidly rubbed aromatic suds into her skin. “What’s the story about?”

His eyes followed her hands.

“A fox who secured all that he wanted.”

Tav smiled and she briefly submerged herself.

“Did the fox secure the woods?” she asked after breaking through the water’s surface.

“He did, and the neighboring woods.”

She placed the bar of soap back onto the edge, and Tav scratched at her scalp and combed fingers through her hair.

“I presume he secured the animals inside of the woods as well?”

“Every single one.”

She made a point to stare into brown, dilated eyes.

“Including the mouse?”

“You’re going to spoil the story for yourself…”

It was at that moment that a yawn formed in her throat. She did her best to ignore the symptom of drowsiness (things were becoming interesting), but the yawn was persistent enough to force an escape. Tav covered what she could, but it was the kind of yawn that made her eyes water. When she blearily looked at the cambion, the desire on his face had been replaced with warm humor.

“I was wondering how long you would be able to keep your guise up,” he remarked.

Another smaller and shorter yawn broke through.

“Finish up,” Raphael ordered, and he walked away - disappearing to the other half of the room.

Tav complied. She rinsed out her hair, finished scrubbing in all the necessary places, and by the time she was done, Raphael had returned. He held out a plush red towel for her to take when she moseyed to the bath’s edge and climbed out.

“Thanks,” Tav said, fighting back what could possibly be an endless string of yawns. The towel was soft and thick, smelled like Raphael, and she made a note to steal it in the morning as she wrung out her hair and dried herself off.

“I won’t miss it,” Raphael said knowingly.

“How - I don’t steal everything, you know,” she scoffed.

“I am aware.”

Tav made a new mental note - to not steal the towel in the morning.

Sufficiently dried, she cheekily dropped the towel to the floor and peered at a bed that had been prepped for sleeping.

The urge to sprint and throw herself into the covers was extinguished when she was unexpectedly scooped up by arms and swept off her feet.

“This is becoming ridiculous,” Tav muttered. Despite her tone, and against her better judgment, she foolishly liked the feeling of being held by the cambion - the feeling of his hands on her...

“Did you not ask to be tucked in?” Raphael retorted, carrying her naked body up the couple steps that led to the bedroom portion of the suite.

She was too tired to think of a witty comeback, so Tav stayed silent while Raphael transferred her over to the bed.

“What do you normally sleep in, Little Mouse?”

Usually just her smallclothes.

Tav glanced up at him. “I sleep naked, of course.”

His eyes flared, and she could read that he wanted to do far more than simply tuck her in.

He gently laid her upon the satin bedding. A fluffy pillow was beneath her head, and the sheets were smooth against her skin. Raphael reached over to draw the top sheet and comforter over her, and Tav was enveloped by heavenly, toasty warmth.

“Would it be possible to have the room for the next day or two?” she murmured, making herself snug under the covers.

Her eyes closed as the fox smiled brightly.

“Oh, my Little Mouse, stay as long as you’d-”

And she was out.

#this started out as a prompt fill but turned into something else #womp womp #bg3 #raphael bg3 #raphael x tav #raphael x tav fanfiction #baldur’s gate 3 #my writing #baldur's gate 3 fanfiction

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freelancearsonist · 2 months

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Some Fools Fool Themselves

➔ Javier Peña x fem!Reader - 2.7k

➔ You were meant to be a mission—an insider that Javi could wring information from on some of the biggest names in the trade. It didn’t go to plan, but maybe that’s not so bad.

➔ Rated MA for unprotected p in v sex (don’t do this irl pls), oral (m receiving), throatfucking, handjobs, creampie, spanish dirty talk (both javi and reader - translations in footnotes), reader has female anatomy and uses fem pronouns, reader wears a bikini, smoking/nicotine use, cheating (reader is married this is the mob wife fic you all asked for), kind of angsty but mostly just porn with the slightest sprinkling of plot for ✨flavor✨ [please let me know if i missed anything at all :)]

The bright, glaring yellow waves of sunlight reflect off the surface of lapping pool water and cast it in a nearly green light. Javi’s dark eyes are transfixed on it through his polarized sunglasses as he marinates in the beating hot Colombian summer sun.

Javier has never questioned his dutiful determination before. He’s never wondered if the ends actually do justify the means. He’s been in the palm of Uncle Sam’s hand for so long that the lines have become blurry—that the consideration of moral superiority doesn’t cross his mind anymore. Not that it ever really has; that’s why he’s so well-suited for the job he’s in. He follows his orders, no matter the cost.

And that’s why you pose such an issue to him. You make him question everything. Every move he’s made, every goal he’s been so set on accomplishing for so many years. If he sends this shiny-sinister iceberg of a drug hierarchy tumbling down the way he’s always believed it should, you’ll be buried in the debris. And maybe, at first, that knowledge didn’t bother him. Maybe he even believed that you deserved that—to be crushed by the weight of your own empire.

If he did, he certainly doesn’t anymore—and it’s killing him.

He’s never been so shaken and unsure. Maybe that’s why the water has caught his eyes—it’s a visual representation of how he feels. Rippling and indecisive, desperate to cling to you yet eager to let you go just like the droplets that part from your form as you lift yourself onto the concrete lip of the pool.

You stride toward him with slow movements, and the dilemma vanishes completely from his mind.

”You look stressed,” you murmur as you kneel beside the lounger he’s sprawled himself out on and take his hand. “What’s wrong?”

”Just tired,” he hums in response. He runs the rough pad of his thumb over the back of your hand in an unconscious effort to sooth your worry over him. “Long night at work.”

You don’t know what he actually does—as far as you’re concerned, he’s just a lowly janitor at the embassy. You can imagine that such menial labor is thoroughly exhausting, though, and you’re determined to help ease his sore muscles.

”Flip over,” you instruct—and like a good agent, he follows orders.

For fingers that he’s noted time and time again are so much daintier than his own, they work wonders on his sore muscles. They work with skill and intuition, magnetically drawn to the worst knots in his back. The pressure is perfect, and it has him practically drooling.

When those skilled fingers of yours hook into the waistband of his swim trunks and start tugging them down, he doesn’t even think of resisting.

You’ve learned to do something that no one and nothing else has managed to accomplish in all his lifetime—you quiet his swirling mind. There’s nothing beyond the bubble of you and him. Nothing to worry about, nothing to accomplish. No ulterior motives to his presence here, shirtless and lounging like he owns the place. Like this isn’t your husband’s house that he’s supposed to be searching for intel.

You coax him to roll over again onto his back. He can’t miss the heat of your gaze—the way your eyes shamelessly skirt down the broad expanse of his torso to take in the softly swelling length of his cock. He knows you relish in these moments—when all you have to do is look at him to get him going. You’re proud of yourself for it, for the effect you have on him.

It’s easy to forget, when you have him completely at your mercy like this, that you’re just as weak for him as he is for you.

”Missed you,” you mumble into his lips as you straddle his lap.

He takes your hips in his steady grip—guides the pace as you rock against him. “It’s only been a couple days.”

”I know,” you whisper. You grind down harder than he means to allow you, drawing a deep groan from his diaphragm. “Still missed you.”

And then, because he finds it nearly impossible to lie to you: “I missed you too.”

He licks eagerly into your mouth before you can say anything, and you accept his tongue without complaint. Your fingers now move to his face, practically clawing in desperation to pull him closer and deepen the already heated kiss.

It’s been nearly a year of him hanging around here, playing his role in the act of your affair. He has you figured out to the most minute details—he knows all your wants, all your needs. He knows the exact sounds that he can draw from you when he sucks over the pulse point on your neck: a squeal as you begrudgingly push him away and mumble something about not leaving marks. He smirks and moves on to the next spot, knowing that you can’t resist for long. Knowing that you don’t even want to in the first place.

He knows that you’re eager for him in the same way he is for you—to please, to take care of. He sees it in action when you reach down and wrap your fingers around his length; when you let out a little breath at the way your fingers can’t quite fit all the way around his girth. You act surprised every time, no matter how many times he finds you in his lap like this. And he loves it—loves the way you practically soak through your little bikini bottoms at just the feel of him in your hand.

“That’s it, bebita,” he murmurs close to your ear. “Fuck, that feels good.”

You hum your appreciation at his words, a silent thank you in the twist of your wrist and the tightening of your grip. It makes his hips jump, cock throbbing under your touch as he tries to fight your slow pace in favor of more intense stimulation. But you aren’t having it—you pin his thighs down with your weight so you can languish in torturing him.

He actually growls as your pace slows—a deep, rumbling, animalistic sound that goes straight to your panties. His restraint is slipping second by second the longer you tease him. He’s throbbing, aching in your grip; he would be embarrassed over how quickly you’ve reduced him to such a primal state if he had any blood left in his brain.

”Dámelo.” There’s nothing pleading or polite about his tone. This is a command, an instruction; an order you don’t dare disobey.

You pull away quickly, but you’re back before he can even process your absence. You’ve shifted to the end of the lounger, face deliciously close to where he’s aching to feel you.

”Relax, Javi,” you hum pleasantly. “Déjame cuidar de ti.”

”Then don’t be a fucking tease.” There’s an evident smirk in his tone, and it makes you smile as you slowly trail your tongue along his length, from the seam of his balls up to swirl around the thick, leaking tip of him.

He grunts as your lips seal around him, one thick-fingered hand coming down to gently urge you deeper. He’s not shy of being greedy with you; he knows how much you love the authoritarianism of his dominance. To let go of your mind and let him take the reigns. As much as you love to play at a power struggle, this is what you want in the end. To be controlled, to be guided. To take exactly what he gives you, exactly the way he gives it to you.

“That’s it, baby girl,” he groans with a buck of his hips that pushes him against the back of your throat. “Take it all.”

And always eager to please, you try your best to do exactly that. You open your throat as much as possible to accommodate his girth and do your best to tamp down the gag reflex that he’s bullying awake. Your nails dig into the meat of his hips as you let him guide you deeper, further—he’ll admire the little crescent moon marks later, alone in his government-issue apartment.

His unoccupied hand slips down the back of your neck and tugs at the string of your bikini top. He doesn’t get quite the view he wants with you choking on his cock, but reaching down to gently pinch and tug at your nipples is enough for him—especially with the little moans and vibrations you let out around his cock.

He tugs your hair a little harshly to pull you off of him when the pleasure compounds. You whine at the loss of his taste, and he groans at the shiny spit that links your swollen lips to his cock.

His breathless moan goes straight to your neglected cunt and makes you squirm with arousal. “Shit, sweetheart. Christ, you’re a fuckin’ dream.”

You shake your head and muster every ounce of seduction your lust-addled brain can generate as you trail open-mouthed kisses over his clenched thighs. “I’m real, Javi. And I really want you.”

Normally, he would want to get his hands on you. He would want to press his fingers deep into your cunt and languish in the embarrassing squelch of your arousal as he works you open for him. He would want to pull orgasm after orgasm from you until the pleasure is so blinding that you can do nothing but slump into his arms and take it. But you’re impatient today; it’s been more than a week since you last saw him, and that means it’s been more than a week since you felt anything remotely pleasurable. Your husband didn’t marry you for love, or even lust—he married you for convenience, for security. For cover to keep up appearances.

Maybe Javi’s been taking advantage of that all this time—how deeply you crave the connection that you’re constantly deprived of. Maybe he should call this off now, before he takes anymore than he already has from you.

But he’s not selfless. He has his flaws, and his biggest one is that he’s irreversibly fallen in love with you. He craves that connection just as deeply as you do.

Your desperation bleeds into his veins and makes him dizzy with arousal. He nods as his throat bobs around a deep gulp. “Alright. Dealer’s choice.”

You only have to consider for a moment before you flip in his lap, bracing yourself forward on your arms in between his legs with your ass pressed snuggly against his cock. You grind lightly against him, and it’s almost enough to make him lose his head.

But just as quickly as his sensible thought leaves, it’s right back where it belongs. He grabs your hips harder than he should to drag you against his solid length and relishes in the deep moan you emit.

”Take what you need, baby,” is all the encouragement you need from him. You take him into your hand again and rise up onto your knees so you can tease his spit-soaked tip against your entrance. You look over your shoulder so you can see his reaction as you trace him around your slit; you relish in the hard set of his jaw, the clenched teeth that you can see through his parted lips as he fights the urge to slam you down hard onto him. He’d only be feeding into the bit—he knows your sole mission is to make him lose his composure.

But it’s so hard not to when you’re looking at him like this—like he holds your very soul in the palm of his hand. The trust, the admiration, in your gaze is nearly enough to make him choke.

Thankfully, you choose this exact moment to sink down the length of him.

The sheer size of him is overwhelming on a normal day, and even more so today when you’ve not had your usual preparation. He bullies his way deep enough to fill your chest, stretching you to your very limit and maybe even past it.

But he’s prepared for it, for how staggering he can feel at first thrust. He grounds you to him with heavy hands on your hips and fits you snug against him. He whispers up at you, little encouragements and sweet nothings. His praise rings sweet and clear as he tells you how good you feel, how warm, how tight, how wet. He basks in the feeling of you soaking him all the way to the very base—in the feeling of your sweet juices dripping down him to soak the coarse patch of hair above his cock.

You pause when you feel his tip kissing your cervix, moaning in tandem with Javi at the way he twitches within your snug walls. It’s like the first time every single time you take him—you wonder if that’s what keeps him coming back for more. You’ve never heard him say he loves you, but you could believe it when you’re like this; when he starts rocking up into you with the sole intention of finding that one little spot that’ll have you shaking and sobbing in his arms.

”You’ve got this, baby,” he grunts in reassurance. “You’re takin’ it so well, honey. Tan perfecto.”

The praise runs up your spine from where you’re connected with him and lodges itself in your brain—it plays on repeat while you start bouncing your hips in an effort to match his pace. It draws a deep, heady grunt from him and pulls him into action. One hand grabs a harsh handful of your ass while you spear yourself on his length, and the other hand slides up the curve of your waist to find a nipple to roll between his expert fingers.

It baffles you, his ability to multitask. When you’re like this—filled to the very brim—all you can focus on is the delicious friction of his cock dragging against every sweet spot inside you. But Javi has a precious ability to attend to as many erogenous zones as he can all at once—something you admire more than you can put into words. His ability to rip you apart is completely unrivaled.

There’s a desperate fury to his touch as his hand slides over your hip from your ass, wrapping around you to circle your clit. It’s harsh and fast—the exact pressure that makes you tremble and scream.

And you do; you come with a cry of his name, cunt clenching around him in a vice grip that almost makes it impossible to keep up the pace. But he tries anyway—anchors your hips in his large hands so he can thrust up into you through your high.

The lounger creaks dangerously beneath you, but the sound is lost to your ears when you’re so thoroughly blinded by your pleasure.

Within a few moments Javi follows you, growling deep in his diaphragm as he spills himself hot and thick into your soaked pussy.

You don’t think it’s ever been this messy before. All you can focus on is the hot, sticky mess slipping down your thighs. Javi can tell that it’s uncomfortable for you, so he reaches down and grabs your discarded bikini top to wipe away as much as he can. You’ve got plenty of others—and even if you don’t, your husband will buy you a new one without question.

He discards it back on the burning concrete once he’s satisfied with his clean up job, then leans back on the lounger and grabs a cigarette from the open pack on the table next to him.

He tries not to smile too much when you stay in place and snuggle into his chest. He really wasn’t a cuddler before you—but now, all he wants is to feel your warmth and weight against him.

It’s not nearly long enough before you look up at him with your pretty eyes and say, ”He’ll be home soon.”

”I’d better beat it then.” He flicks the ash off of his cigarette and pushes himself slowly to his feet—finds his swim trunks discarded on the ground at the foot of the lounger.

”Hey?” He pauses, brow furrowing at how small and timid your voice sounds in just that one word. He’s never heard that quality to your tone before, and it worries him.

”Yeah?”

”Just… please come back sooner,” you mutter. “I missed you.”

Javier Peña is a weak, weak man within these walls. He smiles the softest smile he can muster and pulls you into his arms to press a gentle kiss to your hairline. For a moment, he forgets that you’re not really his. “Okay. I will, baby.”

And he means it, even though he knows he shouldn’t.

THE END

➔ Translations: bebita - baby dámelo - give it to me déjame cuidar de ti - let me take care of you tan perfecto - so perfect

➔ A/N: thank you as always to @shakespeareanwannabe for putting up with my incessant questions and beta requests 🥹 title is from “love hurts” by nazareth

➔ Want to see more from me in the future? Follow @freelancearsonist-updates and turn on post notifications to be notified when I post new fics!

➔ Want to support me? Please reblog this fic! It helps boost it in the algorithm and gives it more circulation no matter what your follower count is :)

#pedro pascal #javier pena #javier pena x reader #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena one shot #javier pena smut #narcos #narcos fanfiction #narcos smut #pedro pascal smut #cece writes

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izvmimi · 1 year

Text

cw: minors dni, smut, car sex, fem!reader. thinking about this again so i'm reposting it don't @ me.

“i-izuku, we’re gonna... fuck... be late again...”

you don’t even know why you bother saying anything. there’s no way you’ll make it to the award ceremony, now that the programme is at least 45 minutes in, and you’re folded up into a v, ankles by your head, your partner marking your neck with bites and sucks that no amount of hastily done makeup will cover.

he’s so deep inside you can feel him in the pit of your belly; you’re as stretched around him as you are squeezed in the small confines of the back of the limousine. his large body dwarfs you and all you can feel is him, him, him.

izuku murmurs something that sounds vaguely like “so what?’ into the crook of your neck, then jerks his hips firmly once as though to remind you that he is indeed fucking the life out of you, and your head swims with pleasure.

so what? is right. who cares if he’s topping the ranks this year. he did it last year and he’ll do it again next year. what’s another shiny plaque? nothing compared to the hunger your body has for another orgasm.

“deeper,” you moan, arms creeping around his bare shoulders, the clean, crisp suit long shed away.

izuku gives it to you the same way he gives you everything - as you want it with a little bit more to spare. his cock sinks inside you repeatedly, rubbing against needy, clenching walls, and his calloused hand rubs expertly at your throbbing clit. where your bodies connect is a sloppy, warm mess, and loud, wet slap, slap, slap sounds accent music you’d forgotten you’d chosen for the car ride.

the partition’s been rolled up for the past hour, and the driver is nowhere to be seen. thankfully. you’re loud and whiny, and izuku’s particularly needy today - you can feel it in the tight grip of his hands on every inch of your flesh and in the depth of his groans. even when he spills inside you, he still kisses you fervently, his cock just barely softening.

“it’s bad behavior,” you insist between kisses and soft pants, the heat fogging up the windows. “you were invited particularly this time.”

“it’s a circle jerk for the media,” he replies, biting your lip as his pace slows. “i’d rather be here with you.”

if it weren’t for the fact that you were already flushed and sweaty, your face would have warmed at that. instead you giggle, pressing your hands against his face.

“bakugou’s rubbing off on you.”

he halts, then raises an eyebrow, and you feel his cock twitch inside you.

"i have original thoughts sometimes,” he says, mock rolling his eyes. you laugh and he presses his forehead against yours.

“you’re gross,” you insist. “this car’s covered in cum and sweat, and this expensive ass dress is ruined.”

izuku pulls you from your position on your back to rest against him instead.

“i’ll buy you another one,” he promises.

you roll your eyes but lean into him nevertheless.

“only if you promise we’ll make it to the next event.”

#izuku smut #izuku midoriya smut #izuku x reader smut #thoughts: izuku #daydreams: bnha #mimi's notes

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jake-g-lockley · 1 year

Note

Hi, can I have prompt 1 with Din Djarin?

Hypnos (The Mandalorian x reader)

Masterlist | Spotify Playlist | Want to be Tagged?

Prompt: Accidentally falling asleep in each other's arms

A/N: Hi there! Thanks for the ask, I literally love Din so so much, he’s baby and this prompt suits him. Oh to wake up in this mans ARMS UGHHHH

Word Count: 485 words

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You tried hard to focus on the flame before you but your eyes were swimming with sleep. The Mandalorian was stretched out beside you, leaning back against his bag his helmet tilted up to the night sky. Grogu slept soundly in your arms, snuggled against your chest and your head kept nodding forward, pushing your nose into his big green head.

It had been a long day of running and you were tired, so tired. But you will yourself to keep awake, worried that someone would come and snatch the child straight out of your arms while you slept. Oblivious to you, Din was watching you as your arms tightened around the sleeping child, the unknown feelings of love washing over his heart like the waves of Kamino.

He knew you were keeping awake for the child and his mind broke slightly as you kissed the top of Grogu’s head murmuring “Its ok I’m here.” whenever the little green thing would mumble in its sleep. He was tired too but he wanted to keep you safe, stopping himself many times from pretty much ordering you to close your eyes and relax. The flame before you was hypnotising and you just wanted to let it embrace you as you rocked yourself and Grogu into a soft trance.

“You could just sleep, you know?” The modulated voice snapped you out of your trance and you turned to see the Mandalorian looking at you, the reflection of the flames dancing softly on his shiny beskar armour, bathing him in a glow.

The softness in his voice soothed you and you relaxed, nodding and settling Grogu down before curling up beside him. Sleep took over you instantly and your dreams were pleasant and happy. You dreamt of the Mandalorian, watching as he pulled your sleeping body against him, slotting Grogu between the both of you and wrapping his arms around you.

You woke up in the early hours of the morning to a whoosh of cold air, finding your cheek pressed against a cold metal. You blinked and tried to sit up but were met with resistance. You found yourself staring down at a beskar breastplate and suddenly you realised that your dream had just become a reality. The Mandalorian was snoring softly and his helmet pressed against the top of your head as his arms tightened his grip around you.

He smelled of blaster fire and after a while of breathing him in, you realised that his gloved thumb had been rubbing soothing circles on your biceps and you felt your face flame up at the sweet gesture. It pulled you back to sleep and you relished in his body warmth, nuzzling your nose against the space between his helmet and shoulder plate, where his soft balaclava covered his skin, imagining how sweet life could continue being if you were to wake up like this every single morning.

Reblogs are appreciated ~~~

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thegreatestsandwich · 1 year

Note

I just saw black panther and let me tell you that I fell in love with Namor and everytime he appeared on screen I was screaming internally, I was wondering if you could write something silly like the reader gives him a rock every time she sees him because on a trip to the surface she saw a couple giving each other gifts and hugging at the end and she thought a rock was the equivalent of that, please please please

I can’t speak, afraid to jinx it (Namor x f!reader)

Masterlist

Pairing: Namor x F!reader

Word count: 1.5k

Summary: A tiny gift that almost drove him to madness.

Warning: Prepare yourself to be attacked with fluff

A/N: At this point, I think I'm really in love with Tenoch, you feel me?

Coments, Reblogs and Asks are happily received! I love to read your lovely coments :)

Namor was beginning to noticing this strange thing about you, no matter where he was or what was he doing, if you passed him you would stop and give him a small rock with a huge smile on your face.

It had started the moment you first were put in charge with helping him recollect a few things from the sinking boat that was closer to his city. Namor was waiting for you at the borders, his hands on his back as his eyes were looking at the calmness of the waters when he heard you humming a soft tune as you approached. He turned around and watched you struggle with at least ten bags on your arms. When he told you that he needed you to bring a few bags to carry the stuff, he was imagining you would bring two, not ten. He couldn’t help but smile at your determination.

“K'eeban tumen k'uchul chúunk'iin!” Sorry for being late! You quickly swam to his side, his eyes watching curiously as you tried to suppress your labored breaths. “Utia'al u completamente honesto, k'uchen tu k'iinili' ba'ale' in distraje.” To be completely honest, I was on time but I got distracted. You cheekily smiled. “Ya'ab in wu'uyik K’uk’ulkan.” I’m really sorry.

“English.” He told you once again and had to bit his tongue to suppress his laughter when you huffed. “You asked me to teach you and I am doing that.”

“Stupid English.” You muttered under your breath. Your hands quickly adjusted the bags on your shoulder. “Can we just go?” Your hand motioned the waters. “I do not want to be there when is dark, sharks bite then.”

Namor held out his hand so you could give him a few bags but you held them closer to you. “Let me help you, and sharks do not bite if you do not annoy them.” He managed to take a few bags from you, adjusting them at his shoulder and began to swim.

You gasped at his words and at his actions. “Sharks do bite! One bit me a few days ago on my leg, I have a scar to prove it…you even saw it, you said it was amazing.”

“Those words have never left my mouth.” Namor was smiling at your tantrum but managed to hide it as his face never left the waters.

“Uh, yes they have.” You managed to caught up with him, swimming at his side. You noticed his smile. “What are we recollecting?”

“Whatever we find useful.” He stated as que stopped, you following suit. “I will check if there are threats, stay here.” Namor didn’t wait for your answer as he quickly swam away, leaving you there with all the bags once again.

You huffed but decided to listen to him, your eyes looking at everything that surrounded you, there were a few fishes out there, thankfully no sharks, the corals looked bright and the sand too inviting to lay just there. But then you saw it, it was shiny and a beautiful turquoise color, you quickly tried to find Namor but he was still away, you bit your lip in concentration and decided to just go for it.

Your hands quickly grabbed the tiny and shiny object, your thumb carefully swiping away any left-over sand, your eyes widening before quicky putting it inside of one of the bags and swam to where Namor was calling you.

As you would expected, the recollection of things from that boat was completely boring, your eyes often diverting towards Namor, you admitted that he looked quite good, completely concentrated in this activity. When he was completely secure that there wasn’t anything more to salvage, he nodded at you and both of you left.

Namor took the bags from you when he left you at your home, you bit your lip and without thinking you grabbed his arm. He looked at you in confusion.

“I have a gift.” You quietly said. Your hands fumbled with one of the bags that you refused to give him. Finally retrieving the tiny rock. “Found it there, I think you will love it.”

He looked at you for a moment, his eyes following your hands as they put the rock on his palm and close his fingers against it. You gave him a last smile before entering your home and leaving him there, watching at the door.

And so it began.

Every single time you saw him, you always gave him a rock, it didn’t matter the size, the color or the weight, you always gave him one. At first he was confused at why you were giving them to him but he began appreciate them after you failed to give him one after one day.

He was swimming with Attuma at his side, the later telling him about the improvements they were making with the protection of the barriers, Namor was glad that everything was going within the plan.

“Táan in planeando bisik u kantúulo'on ti' leti'ob utia'al inspeccionar u máquina u kajnáalilo'ob le superficie decidieron túuxtik tak ka'anal.” I am planning to take four of them to inspectionate the machine the surface-dwellers decided to send from above. Attuma stopped for a second, pointing to the ones he wanted to take. “Chéen k'áabet u t'aan aprobación bey ma' táanil.” Just need your word of approval before proceeding.

Namor was about to speak but he managed to see you approaching them, his fingers were tingling with anticipation, imagining what kind of rock you would give him today, the corner of his mouth was twitching upwards, a smile he wanted to suppress at the presence of Attuma. But he failed.

Attuma watched in amusement at how his king was acting, he would have laughed if you hadn’t approached them. You smiled at them before swimming away. That’s when he saw his face and couldn’t help but laugh.

“Bejla'e' ma' jach juntúul roca, huh?” Not a rock today, huh? Attuma patted his back. “Ma' xaan ka' leti' a ts'áaik juntúul sáamal.” Perhaps she will give you one tomorrow.

“Bix a wojel?” How do you know? Namor asked him, his voice completely annoyed at the missing rock on his hand.

“Tu ya'alaj teen ka tu yilaj le kajnáalilo'obo' le superficie ts'a regalos, tu tukultaj u a gustaban le tunicho'ob ken aceptaste le primera.” She told me she saw the surface-dwellers give gifts, she thought you liked rocks when you accepted the first one. Attuma simply said, trying his hardest to not laugh again.

“Juntéen, wáaj bix supiste?” Again, how did you know?

“Leti' tu ya'alaj teen, ku pinchamos kaaye' globo sáastale'.” She told me, we usually poke pufferfish at dawn. He shrugged, swimming away.

What?

Namor was pacing through his cave, he was going absolutely mad, it now has been twelve days since you had given him a rock. He didn’t know what was happening, why did you stopped? Had the rocks you been seen weren’t up to your standard? He didn’t care, he wanted them.

He couldn’t help but sighed, his eyes turning to his small (HUGE) collection of rocks, he had been keeping them protected since you had given him them. But he wanted more, was he being selfish? Hell yeah, but this was something you had given the thought, you searched each one of them, you put your mind into looking for the perfect one before giving them to him.

So he went to look for you, he couldn’t find you anywhere in the city, a few of his people were looking at him strange as he began asking for you. But your mother was kind enough to point at your location.

Near the corals, she had said.

So he quickly swam there, and there you were, poking at pufferfish with Attuma. He needed to give you a reminder to not do that.

“Cha' k.” Leave us. Namor told Attuma, it was more like a order.

Attuma watched him and then you, before nodding. A huge smile on his face as he left.

“K’uk’ulkan?” You asked him confused, a stick on your hand. “Tu láakal ba'ax ma'alo'ob.?” Everuthing alright?

“English.” He told you, you noticed how tense he was, but still huffed and nodded. “Why did you stop?”

“Stop?” You tilted your head. “Stop what?”

“Rocks.”

You stared at him, you simple shrugged, not really knowing what to say.

“You have not given me any rock in twelve days, why?” He took a step closer to you. “Did something happened? Are they not in your standards? I do not mind what kind of rock you give me.”

“Oh.” You whispered, adverting your eyes. “Is not it.”

“Then what is it?” He grabbed your hands. “I do not care what you give me, but please do not stop.”

You sighed. “My mother say it is not nice to give rocks to someone…so I stopped.”

“Do not.” He whispered, “Please.”

You stared at his hands before looking upwards at his eyes. A tiny smile formed on your face. “Stick?” You gently raised the stick you were holding.

Namor couldn’t help but smile, taking the stick on his hands. “Thank you.” You smiled. “But now, why are you pocking pufferfish? Did you don’t know the dangerous things they could do to you?”

You sighed.

#namor fic #namor x reader #namor imagine #namor x fem!reader #namor x y/n #namor x you #namor fluff #namor fanfiction #k'uk'ulkan #kukulcan #black panther wakanda forever #black panther imagine #black panther: wakanda forever #the reader litteraly is just a precious little thing that I love so much #tenoch huerta #this is pure fluffiness

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erodasfishtacos · 2 years

Text

When The Hubby’s Away…

Prompt: When MLB!Harry gets home early

Warnings: smut, minors dni 18+ if you liked please reblog, recommended, like, and come talk to me about it! (this is what motivates me to continue writing)!

If you want my work two weeks earlier, plus polls to vote for content, plus exclusive blurbs and tropes - please consider joining my patreon for $3 ❤️

The kids went to bed exceptionally early today.

After a whole day of swimming, yummy food, running around the backyard - their little bodies were exhausted by six in the evening.

YN cleaned up around the house, took a nice long bath but that only brought her to nine at night and as she laid in bed, still wrapped in a robe.

Harry wasn’t going to get home until the early hours of the morning, one or two, and YN was feeling a bit of arousal in her stomach.

She gets up, quietly closes the door to the master bedroom, and dims the lights as she sheds the robe on the ground.

YN grabs her phone off the nightstand, unlocking it and swiping until she finds a certain app, where she then has to input three more passwords until folders of pictures and videos pop up.

She spreads her legs, hand lazily running down her belly until her fingers slip between her folds where she’s already damp.

YN wasn’t in a rush as she begin to run her fingers over her swollen clit, her hips squirming against the sensitivity.

She scrolls until she finds something that sparks her interest.

It’s a video from a few months ago, taken in Miami when YN and Harry took advantage of a game there for a little parent getaway.

YN has the camera rolling and focused on her front, they’re on the hotel balcony, a warm night with the beach in the background, waves crashing against the shore.

She’s laid out on a chaise, the dress she wore to their fancy dinner was rucked up around her hips, panties pulled to the side as Harry licked into her.

He was still fully dressed in a nice suit but is kneeling in front of the chair, YN’s hips off the edge, and his hands gripping her plush.

“Ha-Harry,” YN whimpers quietly, there were balconies around them, they could easily get caught but she doesn’t want it to stop.

He pulls back to look up at her, past the camera to his wife with intense gaze, his lips shiny with her, “What do you want, mama? Gonna keep this and watch it later? Watch how filthy you are for your husband?”

Harry doesn’t wait any longer before moving back down, nipping at her mound to make her squeak before spreading her folds with his fingers and tracing his tongue from her core to clit.

“Pinch y’nipples,” He orders from below, eyes darting back up and YN apparently does not follow directions fast enough because he’s reaching up and yanking her top down until her tits spill out, “Now.”

“Want you to do it,” YN whines with an edge of a bratty tone, her hands staying in his hair.

“Oh, you want me to?” Harry parrots back, his one hand moving up to squeeze her tit roughly before pinching at her nipple, “Never say no to you, mama.”

Then he’s back to work, taking her clit between his lips and -

“What do we have here?” Harry interrupts her concentration, she didn’t even hear the door open and when she gazes up at him from her phone - he’s leaning against the wall by the closed door.

YN blinks at him, a bit hazy, and her hands moves from her core to reach towards him, “C’mere, touch me.”

“Oh, doesn’t seem like you need me,” Harry hums with that low rasp that’s a sure signal of his arousal, “So you can keep going and I’ll take care of myself.”

He sits in an armchair near their window, too far from the bed for YN’s liking but close enough that they can see every detail of each other.

Harry palms at himself as his eyes trace up and down his wife’s body, “Look at you. All sprawled out on our bed, touching your cunt thinkin’ of your husband. You’re a dream.”

“Want your hands,” YN complains breathily as her fingers circle her clit again, it didn’t feel as good this time because she knew his capable fingers were right there.

“And I want you to hush up and make yourself come,” He responds as his wriggling his shorts and hoodie off - sitting back in the chair with his length hard and thick, wet at the top.

She gives him a glare but it melts when she just figures she might as well give him the show of his life.

YN spreads her legs further to open up like a flower to him, she arches her back prettily, and lets out a soft moan of exaggerated pleasure.

She closes her eyes - to make him mad because he’s a show off and he wants to show off how nice his cock is.

Her free hand moving up to pinch her nipple between her forefinger and thumb, constant sound coming from her parted lips.

“Look at me.”

God, he’s so fucking easy.

YN slowly opens her eyes, blinking heavily as she puts more pressure on her bud, “It feels s’good, baby.”

Harry huffs in frustration, he can’t even play his own game, and soon he’s out of the chair and his hand comes to her ankle, yanking her down the bed.

His fingers come to spread her open, his eyes glued to where she’s so pretty, wet for him, and he shakes his head.

“Desperate f’me, you know that? I give you my cock constantly and when I’m away your watching videos of me. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were obsessed with me, mama,” Harry teases with a mocking edge as he tucks to fingers into her and rubs at her spot.

“H, yes. There, baby,” YN encourages because he can play her like violin, he knows her body like the back of his hand.

Harry laughs as he leans down to bite at her nipple, “You act like I don’t know, darling.”

His cockiness shouldn’t make him sexier but it does, his sureness of how well he can manipulate her body and how her body physically craves him.

From the Harry she met in college, shaking as she touched him for the first time - they’d come such a long way together.

YN already knows that he’s not going to let her come like this and so she wriggles away from his hands before getting off the bed to kneel.

“Gonna give me a treat, sweetheart?” He murmurs as she kisses at his strong thighs then the softest , thin skin of his inner part.

“Maybe,” She hums as she just barely grazes his shaft with her lips, making his cock twitch at the teasing touch.

“Do it proper. I’m don’t deserve to be teased, I’m not the one who was getting off alone,” Harry tells her and wraps his hand around her hair, pulling her in.

“Don’t act like you don’t get off alone either,” YN retorts as she graciously begins to lick long stripes in the underside.

“Rarely,” Harry says truthfully, he really didn’t that much in the road - partly because he was just dead exhausted and the other was she wasn’t there, “But when I do it’s to pretty pictures of your cunt.”

“Mm,” She hums, still lapping lazily and lulling it around with her tongue to make him even more pent up.

“Alright, enough of this,” Harry hisses roughly, his hand weaving deeper in her hair, “Open up.”

YN feels a electric thrill zip through her spine at his dominant tone, she obliges and he’s guiding himself into her mouth.

She always struggles to take him, thick and big, but enjoys the feeling of her throat burning as he lightly thrusts inside.

When she glances up, she notices his head is tilted back and his eyes are closed, the view is immaculate of his ripped stomach and chest.

Her hand sneakily moves between her own thighs to rub at her clit as she swirls her tongue around him on every odd thrust.

She didn’t realize she was that close to an orgasm, it takes her by surprise as she pulls off his cock and lets a moan out as her body tenses through the aftershocks.

“Are you kidding me?” Harry rasps up, his tone harsh and faux annoyed as he grips her by the shoulders and stands her up, “Did you really just come?”

“You said when you came it that you wanted me to make myself come,” YN shrugs innocently as he crowds her - his chest pressing against hers and starts taking steps which in turn makes her have to step back until she’s pressed against their dresser.

He turns her around and pushes her down by the back until she’s bent over the cold wood of the furniture, tits smooshed against it.

Harry takes a step back, to admire his wife with her arse out, and he can’t help but land a smack on her cheek enough for it to jiggle and bloom a print of his hand.

“I should really not give you anything,” Harry tells her as his lines himself up, teasing her by just pushing the head in before pulling out and rubbing against her cheek.

“But you’re going to,” She bites back confidently, when he teases the head at her opening again, she pushes her hips back harshly until her bum is in the cradle of his pelvis and he’s all the way in - snug and warm.

“Fuckin’ hell,” He groans in surprise before he’s gripping her hips hard and pulling her back onto him over and over again, “Never get tired of this.”

“Don’t wish you were out cheating like all your other teammates?” YN jokes breathlessly as she grips the wood for some type of leverage.

Harry pulls out at that comment, flipping her over and pushing her back on the bed, crawling on top of her, and letting his body weight fall - their chests pressed together as he kisses her, managing to guide himself back in and thrust slowly.

Harry breaks the kiss to make eye contact, their lips just brushing, and he whispers sincerely, “I don’t wish to be anywhere but with you, ever. You’re the only thing I crave and I’ll never stop wanting you. You’re the best drug I could get. Nothing and no one would ever give me what you do.”

YN feels her eyes prick at the sweet statement, she giggles embarrassed as he kisses away the tear that falls and then mouths at her neck.

“I love you,” Is all she can manage as his hand sneaks between her thighs and folds, thumbing at her already sensitive clit.

“Then show me. Come for me,” Harry goads as he speeds up his hips, “Show me how good you are for me, mama.”

YN doesn’t have to be told twice, her second orgasm crashing over her like a thick, hot wave of fire, and her toes curl against his calves.

“Christ, you’re pretty,” He hums lowly, mouth biting all over her chest as he slows his hips down, “You done or you gonna let me keep going, baby?”

YN felt overstimulated, her core throbbing and sensitive but she didn’t want to stop, the warm weight of him on top of her was so welcomed after he’d been gone.

“Keep going, H,” She whimpers as he pushes in with just barely there pressure, like he has all the time in the world.

“I got an idea,” He says instead, pulling out of her and tugging her off the bed with him until he’s opening their balcony doors and is shuffling her out, “Since you were getting off to that video of us being outside.”

The way their house was set up, there was no possible way any of the children (if they would wake up) could accidentally look out a window and see them and so YN didn’t hesitate to follow him.

It was a bit chilled out, her nipples hardening up again, and he’s walking her back into a plush chaise where she’s can lay back.

“Want your mouth again,” YN tells him as kneels in front of the chair, wrapping his arms around her hips and pulling her down hard until her bum’s hanging off the furniture.

“Am I good at it or somethin’?” He smirks, his dimples popping into his cheeks and he looks boyish for a moment.

“You’re alright,” YN drawls unbothered as the nippy New York air stings on her warmest places, making her shiver at the sensation.

“Managed to keep you satisfied all this time,” Harry quips because he doesn’t like even being teased about his bedroom abilities.

“S’cause your cock so nice,” She continues to push at him because she loves to rile him up until he’s too turned on to think straight - it’s working.

“I’m gonna make you cry,” He promises roughly, his voice impossible deeper as he ducks down to lick a stripe from her core up to her clit before dipping two of his fingers in to stroke at her walls.

It feels euphoric instantaneously but what catches her by surprise is when his lips trail from her folds down to her other entrance, licking there with purpose to loosen her up.

She now knows exactly what he’s trying to do.

Multiple orgasms, playing with her bum, he’s going to try to make her squirt - her stomach is tight with anticipation because she always comes so hard from it and now he’s trying to show off.

“Fuck,” YN gasps when he scissors his fingers expertly against her spot as his pushes his tongue past her right muscles then pulling back to nip at her cheek enough that it hurts before repeating the process over and over again.

He’s persistent as he builds up a brutal rhythm that has her thighs quivering with tension, her stomach tensed, and that uncomfortable but blissful feeling that she is going to release.

And Harry’s just, well, gorgeous when she looks down at him - his eyes blinking up to meet hers before he’s focused back on her center, his bicep flexing deliciously with how fast his hand is moving, and his mouth swollen from use.

“M’gonna come, H. Please, m’gonna - oh,” YN mewls desperately, straining against where Harry holds her legs open and refusing to let them shut.

“Yes, come on. Give it to me, mama,” He growls between kisses and licks, “Come on me, I’ve earned it, yeah?”

YN only lasts a few more seconds before she’s releasing all over his hand, face, the chaise, and her own thighs - slumping with exhaustion, chest heaving heavily with every pant as her clit throbs painfully.

“There’s my pretty girl,” Harry coos happily when he notices her puffy eyes, swiping the tears away from her being overwhelmed in the best way possible, “God, look at you. You’re the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. Fucking hell, don’t know how I ever landed you.”

“Mm,” Is all she can reply as her body aches in the best way possible, her bones felt heavy and like she'd melt if she tried to move from her spot on the lounge chair but she still wanted her husband to finish.

"Come on, H," YN beckons, pulling him upwards onto the furniture with her and bringing their lips together, "Want you to come now. Deserve it. Want you in me."

"Not too sore?" He checks before she's shaking her head and spreading her thighs, he places them over the crooks of his elbows and guides himself back at a tortuously slow pace.

YN remembers fondly the span of time when they first started dating where no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't last more than a minute or two because it was all so new to him.

It was the biggest turn on that now, ten years down the line, that the reason he is so good is because he's tailored it to fit her, he knows how to please her down to a simple down and he knows her body like the back of his hand.

The fact that after all this time, he still craved her so much, just as much if not more than when they first met made her always feel wanted, sexy, and so fucking in love with him.

Harry turns his head to kiss at her ankle then down her leg as he keeps up a steady, not too harsh rhythm, and he just can't help himself because his thumb is finding her tingling, puffy clit once more.

"Baby, I can't," YN protests but does nothing to bat his hand away, subconsciously pushing back up into the action, "Oh my god, Harry."

"Just one more, I promise," Harry chuckles breathlessly as he feels the oncoming signs that he's about to come, speeding up his motions on her until a weak, barely there orgasm is coursing through her once again.

And after he settles from his own release, Harry can't help but grab his phone, and open that secret app - snapping a few pictures of his wife absolutely fucked out from all of her orgasm.

She looks stunning in the moonlight, her skin glowing with perspiration, and her core swollen and wet.

"Need to come home early more often," Harry teases as he locks the app before dragging her back inside for a shower.

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thewankbankuk · 1 year

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Jarrod knocked on his roommate’s bedroom door quietly. Earlier that day Ryan, his roommate had came home and complained about a weird thing that occurred while he was out at a club. Something about a weird rubber fetish group pretty much took over the place and caused everyone else to leave, saying that by the time he left that practically everyone there was part of that group, including the bartender that had served him multiple drinks. He complained that the drinks tasted weird and were making him feel sick and went to bed shortly after. “Hey Ryan, you doing ok bud? You’ve been asleep for like 12 hours.” he asked quietly. All he could hear through the door was heavy breathing, almost labored. He knocked again and once again received no reply. He slowly opened the door to check on his friend and was almost immediately hit with a strong smell from inside the room. It smelled like a mixture of sweet and musky and made his head swim. He held in a cough and looked for his roommate, seeing him standing in a dark corner or the room, facing the wall and breathing heavily. Something about his roommate seemed off but Jarrod couldn’t see well enough to in the dimly lit room “Ryan, you ok?” he asked, slowly approaching his roommate. Each step closer to his roommate only intensified the smell. He placed his hand on Ryan’s shoulder and felt his roommate spin abruptly, he saw something faintly shiny and panicked. In a rush of surprise, he scrambled up to a light-switch and flipped it on and what it revealed was even more surprising and only cause him more concern. His roommate was covered head to toe in black shining rubber, still wearing the clothes he had on last night but everywhere skin had been was now shiny and black. To make things even weirder, wrapped tightly around his head was a thick gasmask with blacked out lenses. “Ryan, what the hell is going on man. You’re freaking me out here.” Jarrod exclaimed as the rubber man that used to be his roommate, apparently now awake, removed it’s clothing and stood before him completely covered in rubber. Ryan reached down and pulled a small zipper tab above his groin and Jarrod gasped again as a massive black rubber cock erupted from the opening. Almost immediately the smell that had permeated the room intensified and Jarrod found himself struggling to breath through the intense and almost intoxicating smell of rubber. The smell also seemed to be overpowering his mind as well as he found himself unable to run away and almost mesmerized by the rubber cock slowly approaching him. The heavy breaths of the gasmask echoing in his ears as he slips down to his knees. Jarrod completely surrenders himself to the urges coursing through him as he takes the rubber cock into his eager mouth. Although he had never sucked a man before, nothing about the situation even sparked a single thought of alarm in his addled mind. All that mattered was the rubber cock in his mouth and the sweet taste of rubber. He felt the rubber cock tremble and erupt in his mouth. The taste was unlike anything he had ever tasted before and his entire world exploded in ecstasy as he faded from consciousness.

Jarrod awoke in his chair suddenly, shaking his head and cursing about how he must have fallen asleep. He turned his head toward Ryan’s room and the door open but Ryan was gone. “Must have left while I was asleep, god…what a weird dream.” he sighed as he went to rub the sleep from his eyes. When his hand entered his vision he froze and his throat tightened in panic. His hand was completely encased in rubber, completely black and shiny. He stood up quickly and tore off his clothes only to confirm his fear. His entire body was covered in a black rubber suit. He reached around for a zipper or anything to get it off but came up empty. His rubber hands glided over his new skin sensually and if he hadn’t been so alarmed, he would have stopped to enjoy himself. He felt his face and took a little bit of solace in the fact that his head was still uncovered. With a deep breath he collected himself a bit and tried to assess what was going on. His hands never stopped caressing his rubber body and he became aware that at his groin, there was a small zipper tab. Thoughts of the massive black cock jumped to the forefront of his mind and curiosity started to bud in his mind. He stared intently as his rubber hand unzipped the zipper over his groin. A small burst of joy coursed through him as he watched a massive black rubber cock spring forth. Without a thought, he reached down and started stroking his new member. The pleasure was beyond words as his mind once again slipped away from him. All that mattered to him was the rubber, it felt too good to not stroke it. As Jarrod mindlessly surrendered to the pleasure coursing through him. The rubber around his neck started to expand upwards and cover his face. Within a minute his breathing was heavy as it passed through the mask that had become his face. It didn’t matter to him anymore, all that mattered was his dick. Each stroke pushed more and more of what made Jarrod who he is into his massive rubber cock. He didn’t care though, he only cared about the rubber. He needed the rubber, he needed to share the rubber. He needed to OBEY the rubber. With an unimaginable wave of pure pleasure, Jarrod felt himself cum. A muffled gasp of ecstasy escaped the new drone’s mask as thick black rubber cum erupted from its’ member, taking Jarrod with it. All that remained now was the newest rubber drone. Ready to obey its’ Masters and spread the blissfullness of rubbery obedience to anyone and everyone. The new drone slowly zipped its assimilation tool back into suit and robotically turned and walked out of the apartment.

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afewproblems · 1 year

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For the writing prompts - steddie, 3. “I’m not jealous” or 31. “You weren’t supposed to laugh!”? Pls & Ty

-steddierthings

Thank you so much @steddierthings for your lovely prompt! I chose number 3, "I'm not Jealous" (I was trying to get both prompts but just couldn't come up with a solid enough idea for the two of them)

This is partly inspired by this post that I read recently but I really like this idea and I do hope that you enjoy!

This was the last straw, Gareth thinks to himself, his face in his hands, fingers dangerously close to plunging themselves into his eyes.

“I can’t take it anymore man,” Gareth groans as Jeff takes a seat at their favorite table. It’s tucked away into the far corner of the Hideaway, the thick shiny veneer has been dulled over the years and the honey wood beneath is covered in thick layers of graffiti and carved initials. Jeff is particularly proud of the Metallica logo he painstakingly free-drew out on one of the corners while the bartender wasn’t looking.

Jeff snorts as his gaze travels to Eddie at the bar before falling back to Gareth, who has dropped his hands in favour of glaring at the back of their friend.

"If I have to hear him fuckin' harp about Harringtons perfect lips one more time I swear I'm going to lose it," he mutters before taking one last pull on the nearly empty bottle in front of him. Gareth winces at the taste of warm beer as he swallows the dregs and puts the bottle down a tad harsher than he means to.

Jeff rolls his eyes and smirks, "I don't think it's going to stop anytime soon dude, he's too much of a chicken-shit to actually do anything about it," he shrugs and takes a swig of his own beer, "besides, you remember him after the senior swim meet?"

"Oh my Goood," Gareth groans and drops his head to the sticky table surface, "he didn't shut up about that swim suit, or his moles, for a fucking month".

Now admittedly, Gareth could appreciate that Steve Harrington was hot, he had eyes in his head after all.

But he just couldn't understand this sudden resurgence of Eddie's very vocal pining from afar.

After the whole business with poor Chrissy, the man-hunt that left Gareth and Jeff incredibly spooked, and the sudden earthquakes that swallowed much of their small town, Eddie had come back to their band with a gaggle mismatched party members that trailed after him like lost puppies -including Steve Harrington.

Now, Robin Buckley and Nancy Wheeler made sense. Robin was one of their own -a band geek, sheep adjacent in her own right and Nancy was Mike's sister, whip-smart and twice as scary.

But Steve, former jock and King of the hallways of Hawkins high?

It made no sense.

But, he had been there for Eddie through it all apparently. Steve had sat at his bedside in the hospital, trading off with Wayne and Dustin to let them go home for a rest while they waited for Eddie to wake up. He had brought over food to the Munson's new trailer to help while Eddie was still recovering, and even offered to host their renewed Hellfire nights at the Harrington House rather than the school.

As much as Gareth hated to admit it, Steve Harrington actually seemed to have turned into a decent dude.

Which brings him back to the issue at hand.

"I just don't get why he won't shut up about him man," Gareth says with a sigh, he looks over at Jeff who is busy rolling his eyes and looking for an empty spot on their table to tag with his pen.

"I mean, you would if you've ever been hopelessly in love with someone before," Jeff says with a shrug before elbowing Gareth sharply as Eddie makes his way back to the table with three beers.

Oh…well shit.

"Maybe he just needs a little push," Gareth hums under his breath to Jeff as Eddie plunks the bottles down and slides them across the table toward them.

"What are we talking about?" Eddie asks as he takes a seat on one of the mismatched chairs on the far side of the table, he looks between Jeff and Gareth expectantly with a crooked grin.

Gareth takes the new bottle in front of him and tears at the slightly damp paper label with his nail, as a new thought blooms, he turns to meet Jeff's eyes with a grin and lets the thought travel through their gaze.

I have a plan.

No.

Dude, trust me!

Jeff shakes his head and hides a smile behind his beer as he takes another swig.

"We were just talking about the next Hellfire meeting, maybe we can sweet talk Harrington into hosting again for us," Gareth says, trying to keep his voice level, he leans forward on his elbows and ignores the sigh that escapes Jeff beside him.

Eddie brightens slightly and smiles for a moment before it disappears as his eyes narrow suspiciously, "probably," he says after a beat, "why?"

"No reason," Gareth hums again as innocently as he can manage, "Steve's great, it'll be cool to catch up on how the Hoosiers are doing, that's all".

Eddie freezes across the table and Jeff kicks Gareth's leg, hard, he fights off a wince at the impact and kicks back.

"I uh," Eddie stutters out as he slowly seems to gain his movement back, "I didn't know you liked Basketball".

Gareth waves his left hand and drops his gaze back to the bottle in his right, trap set.

"I don't follow it that closely, that's why it's nice to talk to Steve about it," he lies.

Gareth has no interest in Basketball and has not in fact spoken to Steve much, outside of thanking him for hosting their last session. He can feel Jeff's gaze boring into the side of his face, it's one lie, one little white lie and it's for a good purpose, right? For love!

He tries not to let Eddie's somber face eat away at him for the rest of the night.

It's at the next Hellfire night that Gareth decides to kick things up a notch despite Jeff's warnings.

"Just don't do anything really stupid man," Jeff tells him over the phone before the game. It wasn't like it was malicious, Eddie just needed a little push in the right direction.

Maybe a big push.

Gareth takes a deep breath as he walks into the kitchen of the Harrington house, he'd never been here himself during the wild party phase King Steve had been infamous for and he can see why it was the central hub for the popular crowd.

The kitchen itself is massive and the in-ground pool outside the window seems like it would be fun in the summer without the chill of April winds and the tarp covering it.

Steve is in the kitchen talking with Eddie, he's wearing a slightly oversized forest green sweater and tight blue-jeans which --even Gareth catches himself staring a little too long at. Focus.

He's bent over the oven and putting something on a cookie sheet onto the middle rack before standing back up and closing the door. Steve takes off the floral oven mitts and sweeps his wild hair away from his heat-flushed face. Eddie seems to be listening but his eyes are just slightly glazed over and lingered far too long on the swell of Steve's jean-clad ass as he bent over.

"Hey man," Gareth calls out from the kitchen entrance, he ignores the way Eddie freezes again before slumping into a pout.

"Oh hey," Steve says, his voice tinged with slight surprise, "you excited for the session tonight?"

Gareth nods and siddles up closer to the pair, he leans around to take a peek at the oven behind them and sniffs the air exaggeratedly, "oh what did you make for us this time Harrington? I swear, if you cooked for me like that every day I'd die a happy man".

A pretty pink blush blooms over Steve's cheeks and ears as he fumbles with one of the oven mitts, and Okay, if Eddie doesn't make a move soon maybe….

No. Focus up man.

Steve's large hazel eyes flick from Gareth to Eddie so fast he almost misses it.

"Uh, I mean, it's just some pizza rolls, I didn't actually have time today," Steve mumbles with a shrug, he doesn't seem to notice the furious glare that Eddie shoots Gareth's way, too busy turning around to set the timer on the little plastic egg on the counter.

"Next time, I'm sure," Gareth says with a smile, knocking his shoulder into Steves and leaning into his space, a startled high pitched laugh bubbles out of Steve who shrugs again.

Eddie reaches out and slings an arm around Steve's shoulders, tugging him slightly away from Gareth and into Eddie's space. He watches, fascinated as Steve relaxes slightly into Eddie's hold.

"Stevie here does such a good job taking care of us," Eddie says sweetly into Steve's ear, he may as well have pissed in a circle around the kitchen and told Gareth to back off and eat glass, it doesn't go unnoticed the way Steve seems to bask in the attention -to Gareth anyway.

Ah well, in for a penny.

"How is it that someone hasn't snatched you up yet Harrington? He cooks, he cleans, he hosts game nights? Like a regular Carol Brady or something," Gareth asks, his voice almost wavers as Eddie's hackles rise. Eddie's normally soft brown eyes have hardened and he's looking at Gareth as though trying to figure out if he could actually get away with kicking him in the shin, or somewhere slightly higher.

But then all at once Eddie sags, he abruptly drops his arm from Steve's shoulder and stomps out of the kitchen leaving Steve and Gareth alone as the back door slams shut.

Well shit.

Steve's eyebrows crinkle together worriedly as he bites his bottom lip, his eyes trained on the back door, "that was mean," he says softly before finally shifting his gaze to meet Gareth's surprised face, "I know what you were trying to do, but I don't think he was really ready to talk about it yet man," Steve continues with a shake of his head before seemingly steeling himself.

Steve breathes out a long sigh and hands Gareth the oven mitt in his hand without looking at him, "that timer is going to go off in about eight more minutes, just flip them when it goes off and then put them back for another ten".

And with that Steve steps around him to follow Eddie out the door.

"I told you not to do anything stupid man," Jeff's voice floats into the kitchen from the hall, Gareth resists the urge to knock his head into the wall beside him.

"I know, I know," he mumbles as Jeff takes the spot that Eddie and Steve had vacated, "I should probably go apologize, can you watch these?" Gareth gestures towards the oven as he hands over the mitts.

Jeff's nods and rolls his eyes again as he leans back against the counter, "I better hear groveling dude," he calls out as Gareth makes his way towards the back door, "don't think Eddie wouldn't kill your character just to spite you!"

Gareth walks a little faster at the thought.

Without a porch light the yard is dark but for the pale moonlight that stretches over the lawn and patio. He makes his way down the stairs but pauses as soft voices reach his ears.

"I'm not, I'm not jealous man," Eddie scoffs, his voice comes out in a sharp growl.

"No, Eds, that's not what I'm saying--"

"Why would I be jealous, I don't own you, you can date or screw whoever you want Harrington," Eddie says again, his voice now bitter and soft.

There's silence for a moment before Steve speaks slowly, "whoever I want huh?"

"Be my guest," Eddie scoffs again.

Gareth tip toes over, closer to the corner of the house and crouches down beside the bushes before peeking around the corner, just in time to see Steve step forward and slowly cup Eddie's face before leaning in to kiss him.

Gareth resists the urge to cheer in relief, but it's a near thing.

Eddie is frozen for a moment before he seems to come back to himself, his hands rise up to thread into Steve's hair and around the small of his back as Eddie walks them backwards into the side of the house, he presses Steve against it drawing out a surprised gasp which Eddie swallows with a please hum.

Gareth takes this as his queue to back away slowly and tip toe back up the stairs, no need to add voyeurism to his list of crimes for the day.

When Steve and Eddie do finally return to the kitchen, Steve's hair is in complete disarray and his lips are nearly as red as his flushed cheeks. Eddie grins widely, radiating happiness, and saunters in with his arm loosely draped around Steve's waist.

Eddie spots Gareth hovering awkwardly near the oven, Jeff pays neither of them any mind as he takes out their treats from the oven and asks Steve for a hand plating everything for the kids in the living room. Steve smiles knowingly at Jeff, his eyes trail over to Eddie and Gareth once before he snags a platter from the cupboard and leads Jeff to the farthest side of the kitchen.

"I suppose I have you to thank for that?" Eddie says quietly, the rising volume in the living room teases the arrival of the kids at any moment.

"Yeah, look I'm sorry man--"

Eddie waves him off and claps him on the back with a small smile, "eh, it's fine, I needed a little push, wasted a lot of time thinking I didn't deserve everything I wanted," he says softly.

Eddie snorts suddenly and a playful grin blooms over his face as he brings up his hand to poke Gareths chest, "Besides, I'm your DM remember? I can throw an ancient red dragon at you guys next time and tell the kids it's your fault".

Eddie cackles as he leaves Gareth in stunned silence to join Steve and Jeff on their way into the hallway. He slips his hand into Steve's back pocket as he joins them.

Gareth groans quietly, and starts mentally writing out a new character backstory, he has a feeling his current Elf Ranger wasn't going to last that much longer.

#steddie #afewproblems answers #afewproblems writes #steddie prompts #steve harrington #eddie munson #mutual pining #eddie munson is a lil possesive and we love that for him #steve harrington is a sweetheart #gareth tries his best #gareth and jeff are supportive friends #gareth had good intensions and shit execution #hellfire club #steve x eddie #getting together

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hometoursandotherstuff · 1 year

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I love Art Deco homes, but since this one was built in 1936, it doesn’t qualify b/c it’s called Art Moderne, but it’s close enough. The Minneapolis, Minnesota home has 4bds. 4.5ba. and asks $3.39M.

See what I mean? It looks Art Deco, right- love that fireplace. Look at the mirrored hearth behind the white flames.

It’s got the glass block, signature port hole door and shiny chrome railings.

A double-sided fireplace.

Classic rounded wall by the dining area.

Large dining room gets a lot of light and is right next to the kitchen.

A rounded counter, with chrome tops. Love the flooring.

The eat-in kitchen has a beautiful view, also.

Look at the rounded room and it also has a porthole door. Like the uplighting, too.

Around the corner is a nice sitting area right off the kitchen.

Plus, a small pantry/laundry room.

Hallway and stairs to the bedrooms.

The main bedroom has a beautiful fireplace plus a big terrace overlooking the lake.

This small seating area on the landing even has a fireplace.

Large bath with marble.

Double floating vanity.

Behind is a dressing area with a large dresser.

Then, there’s a walk-in closet w/a smaller laundry pair.

I think that this whole floor is dedicated to the main bd. suite.

This is a lovely spacious bedroom with a beautiful en-suite, too. It also has access to an outdoor space.

Isn’t the tile a pretty blue, and look at the neon mirror.

This room has a nice big closet/dressing room.

All the bds. are big and bright with outdoor terraces.

The terrace goes all around the house.

Beautiful shower and I love the navy blue plumbing fixtures.

Lovely family room.

This is really nice. I thought it needed a pool, but apparently there’s swimming in the lake.

What location.

https://www.priceypads.com/1936-art-moderne-masterpiece-asks-3-39m-on-cedar-lake-in-minneapolis-minnesota/

#art moderne house #art moderne architecture #houses #house tours #home tour

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screamingseeker · 1 year

Text

DARK WATERS

merformer megatron x marine biologist!reader

If you knew what was waiting for you when you went into the water that day, you would've stayed in and start packing to go home.

But there were only a few weeks left of your summer research trip left and the Troian Isles were home to the one of the most unique ecosystems in the world. It would be a crime not to spend as much time in the water as possible.

So, armed with your trusty underwater camera, you hopped into the old speedboat tied to the dock and sped away from shore.

You slowed down just before you were out of swimming distance from the docks. You had learned the hard way to keep close to land.

You tossed the anchor overboard and while it made it's way to the ocean floor, you suited up in your fullbody swimsuit and oxygen tank, complete with goggles. You sat on the edge of the boat and let yourself fall backwards, quickly descending with the extra weight of the tank.

You reached the ocean floor. The coral reefs glittered in the sun and colorful fish swam around you in every direction, but you paid special attention to a small octopus that moved towards you on the ocean floor.

It was curious, but kept it's distance and you didn't try to get closer to it. You took several photos and lost your in your favorite place in the world.

You didn't even notice how much time had passed until the water became darker around you and you looked up to see a purple sky.

There were no sharks anywhere near the Troian Isles, but as a rule of thumb, it wasn't a good idea to be in the water at night. So you put your camera's strap around your neck and swam up towards the surface.

By the time you pulled yourself back onto your boat, the sun was dipping below the horizon and you took a moment to just admire the view. Purple and orange hues painted the sky, slowly being overtaken by a deep blue.

You really were lucky to have gotten the chance to spend your summer here.

You grabbed the steering wheel and turned the boat towards the docks, speeding away as the sun set behind you.

The boat reached the dock just as night fell. You securely tied the boat to the dock and were just about to get off when you noticed something in the water.

Below the dock, something gray and shiny shape was thrashing around.

It must be a dolphin, you realized in horror.

You immediately shrugged off the oxygen tank and dove into the water before it even hit the floor. Swimming blind, you followed the warped sound of the dolphin moving until you felt sleek skin beneath your outstretched hand. You also felt the netting holding it down.

You reached for the knife strapped to your hip and the dolphin thrashed harder, which made it that much harder to make sure you didn't hurt it as you cut away at the net.

You could barely see in the dark, but you felt the net give way and you gave it some space so it could swm away.

But it stayed where it was.

You realized much too late it was too large to be a dolphin.

It looked at you and red eyes glowed in the dark water.

You gasped and water filled your mouth and nose, immediately making you scream in your mind. You needed air. Kicking your legs, you fought your way to the surface and away from the creature, but you were already lightheaded and black spots were filling your vision.

You were going to die with water in your lungs and no one knowing where you were.

Claws suddenly hooked into your arms and you screamed as you sped upwards, exploding out of the water and landing hard on the dock.

Sea water burned as it rushed out of you, nearly making you throw up from gagging so much. You just laid there, grateful for every breath and once you had the strength, you lifted your head to look back at the ocean.

Unblinking red eyes stared up at you, the rest of the creature's face hidden in the water.

You stared at each other for several moments, your heart pounding in your ears.

It spoke.

"I am in your debt." It said in a low, rumbling voice.

Before you could get a word out, it's head dipped below the water, disappearing into the dark. Like it had never even been there.

You should've just stayed home.

#merformers #megatron x reader #transformers x reader #transformers imagines #back on my merformer bs #the time is almost upon us #so send in those merformer requests folks #fic: dark waters #the troian isles

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