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msgexymunson · 2 years

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Red Handed

Exhibitionist!Fem!reader x soft!dom!Eddie

Description: the Polaroids had started out as just a joke, until you realised how much it turned you on taking them

A/N: this is from an anon ask, hope you don't mind where I went with it. Blended in a bit of exhibitionism and I was liberal with the 'object' Eddie recognises...

Warnings: lotta smut, hella angst, bitta fluff (nice ending we all need love in our lives) reader uses she/her pronouns (minors DNI I will tell your mothers) F! Masturbation, oral M! Receiving, unprotected sex (use some sense y'all) again I'm english so if any americanisms seem odd soz babe. Comments and reblogs are a writers best friend.

Word count: 4.7k

Masterlist

The school hallway was bustling. Teenagers were scooting through, talking loudly, making their way to first period. Some jocks were laughing in a group by the water fountain. A gaggle of nerds were inching cautiously past, sneakers squeaking on the linoleum floor. Stood by your locker, you were taking your time gathering your text books. You were waiting, desire and angst flowing and intermingling in a hot mess in your gut.

Finally, a mop of messy brown locks bursts into view. Eddie's gait is chipper, practically bouncing down the hall. Eddie, your best friend. Who is about to see you nearly naked. Not that he has any idea of course.

"Mornin' princess!" Eddie beams, flashing pearly teeth.

"Well aren't you full of the joys of Spring?" Smiling back at him; it was infectious. Eddie was a ray of sunshine for anyone who actually knew him.

"Just feel good today, have a feeling I might be lucky, you know?" He says, fixing his eyes on his locker, turning the combination.

You wait with bated breath as the door springs open and a small square envelope falls out. Eddie bends lightning fast and grabs it off the floor. Flipping it over, he sees a tiny red heart drawn in the corner. Eddie practically punches the air.

"I fuckin' knew it, today's my day!" He says half to himself, ripping the envelope open. Taking out some Polaroids his jaw drops. You watch as a blush creeps from his neck, up his jaw, and flushes his cheeks. You can feel a mirror of that blush, but the heat was travelling between your legs. God, this is such a turn on. If only he knew. He turns and presses his back against the lockers, hand on his forehead, gawping. He moves the pile to the next one, eyes bulging, then to the final photo.

"Holy shit." His hand compulsively strokes the back of his neck, eyes wide.

"Guessing you got another present then? A good one?" Knowing full well the answer. He nods emphatically, eyes not leaving the Polaroid. The reaction was everything you ever wanted. You don't need to ask what the pictures show, you took them.

The first image was you in your red lace bra and panties, perched on the edge of a desk, legs crossed. The next, your legs are wide open. The final picture was similar to the first, but this time you had removed your bra, your free hand teasing one of your nipples. None of them showed your face of course. Couldn't have Eddie knowing his shy, unassuming best friend was actually a filthy exhibitionist after all.

"You just need to ask her out Eddie, surely you must know who this is?" You try to keep a straight face, but it doesn't matter, Eddie's still looking at the picture. Your words shake him a little out of his daydream state.

"Sweetheart, when I find out who this is I'm gonna fuckin' marry her." You laugh loudly at that.

"Hang on, these are- fuck!" He looks at you. Fuckfuckfuck has he spotted something?

"These are taken at school! That's our English class! Jesus Christ, this is the girl of my dreams" he groans, leaning his head back, bashing it against the lockers. The bell rings.

"Come on lover boy, let's get to class." You bound off with Eddie at your heels, grinning to yourself and hugging your books.

*************************

It had all started as a joke really. Payback. You and the rest of Hellfire, your D & D club, were hanging out, talking shit as per usual. Dustin was gushing about his super hot, super nerdy girlfriend and Eddie was throwing m&ms at him.

"Hey! Just 'cause your jealous! You should go and find a girl instead of giving me shit about mine!" Dustin complains.

"Well, that would be great and all, but I don't even know any girls dingus. Only hang out with you losers." He says, throwing another m&m.

Dustin pointed at you, "y/ns a girl."

Eddie sniggered. "She doesn't count, she's one of us." He playfully punched you on the arm. You pressed your lips together firmly, feeling the tips of your ears go red.

'She doesn't count?' What the fuck. What am I, meatloaf or something? You should have said it out loud, but you just couldn't bring yourself to.

Once the embarrassment had worn off, you were angry. Storming into your room, you had flopped onto your bed, holding your face, biting back hot tears. Eddie was, well, everything. And you didn't count. The words were burning in your head. You'd been nursing this crush on him for a while, and apparently you may as well not exist. Pulling your hands away from your face you glance over at your desk to see your Polaroid camera sitting there. Hmmm. I'll teach him a lesson.

You took your bed sheet and hung it over your wardrobe. Standing in front of it, you whipped off your jeans and t shirt, changing into a tight strappy top, and posed. It was tricky to take a picture on your own and you messed up the first two, but the third was good. You could see your chest, nipples poking at the fabric, braless, and the side of your thigh was on display. Angling the camera to take a photo of your ass, you managed it on the first go. Lacy black panties riding high, showing the shape of your butt, it was actually a flattering image. I'll show you I count Munson.

That was the first time you had snuck Polaroids in his locker. You had watched him from around the corner, seen his puzzlement on finding the envelope with the heart on it. When he opened it his jaw fell open, looking around, trying to see if it was a joke. You felt smug. Walking over you grinned at Eddie.

"Hey Munson what you got there?"

"I-I think, maybe... erm, someone got the wrong locker? There's these, erm, photos. Fuck." He's not forming proper sentences, looking flushed and bewildered.

Suddenly it's hard to breathe. You can feel your pulse deep inside, heat pouring out of you. What the hell. This was about getting him back, but the thought of him seeing you in that state, showing your body to him, was intoxicating. Especially since he didn't know it was you.

You tried to steady your breathing. "Maybe you have a secret admirer?" You said, voice much calmer than you felt.

"Shit you think so?" He stared at you with big wide eyes; the look nearly broke you. You just couldn't reveal that it was a joke, not now. He looked so hopeful.

For a few days, you had thought maybe that was that. You had proven your point after all, even if it was only to yourself. That all fell apart when you brought the camera to The Hideout, and took a picture of Eddie on stage. He looked ethereal, this glowing God of a man, and you just had to. You made your way to the bathroom and stripped down to your underwear, taking a picture of you spread legged on the toilet seat, then another with your bra off, free arm covering your breasts.

It excited you; all of it. The sneaking around, the thrill that you might get caught, exposing yourself to Eddie. It made you feel alive. It made you feel dirty. Getting braver and more confident with each mini shoot, the locations got more and more risky. There was the toilets at school, then the woods just outside where Eddie did his deals. Now, Mrs O'Donnell's classroom. You had gotten to school at 6am for that one, the rush of potentially being caught red handed burning through your veins.

You knew it couldn't last though. Eventually you would need to stop. Eddie can be a bit dim sometimes, but surely he'd work it out, and then you'd have to admit your crush and potentially ruin your friendship. Plus, how self-conscious were you going to feel, knowing Eddie knew exactly what lay under your clothes?

One last time. You had said it before, but this time that was it, and you knew the perfect place.

*********************

It was 10pm the next day. Sitting in your car you were staking out the school, building up the nerve. The janitor had left some time ago, but you knew a side door that was never locked properly. Taking a deep breath, you grab your backpack, scoot out of your car and hurriedly make your way to the side of the school.

Moving through the hallways, you open up a small door and navigate your way around the drama room, coming to your destination. You grinned to yourself knowing this was going to blow Eddie's mind.

You're standing in front of Eddie's throne. His Hellfire seat, the one no one was allowed to touch, not even if someone else in the party ran a one shot. It was the cardinal rule. This was Eddie's spot.

Stripping off, you get entirely naked, shivering in the chilly air. Clearly the heating is turned off at night. You sit on the throne, arousal flowing through you already at the thought of what you were about to do, toying at your own nipples, getting them camera ready. The first shot you take both your legs are draped over the arm of the throne. The next, you let one leg fall to the floor, legs spread, cunt on full display.

Softly dragging your hand down, you graze your clit, holding your breath in your throat. Another photo. You glide your fingers through your folds, feeling your wetness seeping out, your arousal already pooling around your entrance. Another photo. You slide two fingers in all the way, letting out a stifled whimper, body on fire despite the chilly air. Another photo.

Finally, you reach to the side, to your backpack at your feet and pull out your red dildo. It wasn't very long, but thick, and covered with small ridges to accentuate your pleasure. You took a photo with it in your hand, held against your naked chest, fingers shining with your slick, then teased it through your folds, gathering the collecting slick emanating from your cunt.

You plunge it into your heat and set a deep and unforgiving pace, angling the sex toy so it grazed your g spot. Another photo.

After that the camera becomes a burden; you hastily drop it on the table in front of you and concentrate on chasing your pleasure. A tight feeling gathers in your stomach, limbs warm, pursuing rapture. Your head starts to feel fuzzy, and you feel wrong for doing this here, in this sacred spot, but that just amplifies your arousal.

You think about what Eddie would say if he caught you right now. What would he do? Would he stand in shock? Walk out? Help you chase your release? Or just watch you? The thought of being caught by him pushed you over the precipice. You came over your hand with a broken groan, biting your lip to try and stifle your noises.

Panting, you remove the toy from inside you, gasping for breath. You have a look at the discarded Polaroids. The last one was hot as hell, back arched, tits on display, red toy slightly blurry as it pounded into you. Holy shit. Eddie's going to explode. You giggle, getting your clothes back on and stuff together before sneaking out.

*********************

The next day you were practically buzzing with excitement, running over to your locker, when you see Eddie's already there. Shit.

"Hey sweetheart, where's the fire?" Eddie smirks at you out the side of his mouth, pushing his locker closed.

"You know me, just eager for a day of learning!" He chuckles at that. "You ok, any presents today?"

"Nope" Eddie says, looking slightly deflated. "Thought I'd try and get here early, see if I could catch them but no dice." He frowns.

"Well, can't be every day. Hey, remember we are hanging out tonight. This is a no frown zone!" You lightly push his arm.

"Oh yeah, yours or mine?"

"Mine. My parents arent home and your room stinks Eddie."

Eddie looks aghast and mimes being stabbed in the chest, flinging himself into the lockers, making an almighty racket.

"Oh, sweetheart, you wound me!"

Some students turn to see the commotion, others keep walking, used to his antics.

"Well it does! Learn to clean your sheets doofus. I'll see you later." You muss his hair and walk off, the envelope full of photos burning in your pocket.

*********************

After lunch you and Eddie make your way to your lockers, trying to stop the knowing smirk from crawling over your face. Earlier, you had managed to sneak out of biology, feigning 'women's problems' (your teacher waved their hand at you with a turned up nose, he clearly didn't want any details) in order to jam the photos into Eddie's locker and run.

When the envelope slips to the floor with a thwap Eddie looks seriously confused. He's had never had an afternoon delivery before. He quickly rips the envelope open and you watch as he seems to break down in front of your eyes. No sound leaves his lips, eyes wide, hand held to his mouth in shock, wheeling through image after image.

"You ok Eds?" You say softly. He doesn't answer for a bit, then coughs, shoving the photos into his pocket.

"Yeah. Fine. See you later." He faces the wall for a second, out the corner of your eye you see him attempt to arrange the growing bulge in his jeans. He tries to walk off whilst hunched over, taking long strides. You turn to follow him with your eyes, and see him practically jogging to the bathroom.

Jesus Christ is he gonna rub one out? The thought blazed in your brain, thinking about Eddie frantically fucking his fist with your photo in the other hand, sweaty and desperate. Sighing, you tense your thighs, saving that image for another time, and make your way to class.

*********************

After having takeout for dinner, you were sprawled on the foot of your queen sized bed, flicking through a magazine. Eddie was leaning up against your pillows, getting a baggy out so you two could have an after dinner smoke. Led Zeppelin is softly playing from your tape deck, much to Eddie's annoyance.

"Seriously, this again? Can't we listen to something else?"

"Nu-uh. My bedroom my rules." You say back, as you had a dozen times before.

Eddie grumbles under his breath, but you know there's no spite in it.

You see Eddie fumbling around out the corner of your eye, patting his pockets.

"Lighters on the bedside table." You say without looking.

"Aha, there you are you little sucker" he grabs the lighter and sparks the joint, taking a few hits.

"You want some of this?" He waves the joint, winking at you. You feel a shiver shoot down your spine, wishing he had meant something else besides the smoke.

"Of course I do, why do you think I hang around with you," you wink back, winding him up.

"Well shit you ain't having any now!" He says, holding his hand high in the air.

You huff at him, stretching over, trying to grab it from waving fingers. You lean further into him but he bends right back into the gap in your pillows, hand underneath them. Suddenly his eyes widen, grin threatening to split his face in half.

"You can take it" he says, passing the spliff to you whilst you stare at him confused.

"I've found something better" he says in a sing song voice, and pulls his hand out from its hiding place, holding your dildo in his hand, waving it at you and laughing.

Shit! You'd forgotten you had jammed it there before he came round! You'll never hear the end of this.

Eddie, still chuckling, looks at it, seemingly for the first time. It drops out of his hand as if it had burned him and rolls off the bed, onto the floor. Eddie's staring at you in shock. You felt your stomach drop out from under you, realising a bad situation just got worse. It was the toy you had used in the last batch of photos. It sat on the floor, glaring at you, matt red. It felt like it was burning a whole in your carpet, setting your friendship with Eddie ablaze.

"Sweetheart..."

You look down, and put the joint in the ashtray next to you. Twisting your hands, you play with your rings, unable to meet his stare.

"Look, it was supposed to be a joke, I was just getting you back, you know, after what you said? And I started enjoying it and I-I like you and I didn't mean it to go so far and..."

"Will you look at me?" Eddie's voice trembles slightly.

You scrunch your eyes shut, hot tears spilling out the creases of your eyes, running down your cheeks, leaving salty embarrassed trails in their wake.

"I think I'd rather die than look at you right now. I'm so fuckin' embarrassed and stupid, you might as well just leave, I'm a creep, I'm so, so sorry-"

Firm lips press against yours. You lean back in shock, not expecting the sudden kiss. When you dare to look Eddie is staring straight at you, eyes soft, hand reaching out to your fidgeting digits, trying to calm you down.

"I had to-to do something..." your words dwindling.

"You said I said something, what did I say?" He holds your hands, massaging your fingers softly.

"You.. said I didn't count."

"When?" He exclaims, word tinged in disbelief.

"Dustin said I was a girl, and you said I didn't count. I just wanted to show you, I do count. I dunno, I just wanted you to pay attention to me." You gaze at him, hurt etched into your brow.

"Oh sweetheart" holding his hand to your cheek, he strokes your jaw "I didn't mean it like that, I was just tryin' to take attention away from you is all. What was I supposed to do, ask you out on the spot?" He chuckles, pulling you in for another kiss.

This time you're ready, kissing him back with urgency. His lips are surprisingly soft; the kiss tastes of weed, cigarettes and gum, and maybe the lingering hint of strawberry chapstick that glosses your mouth. You both open your mouths, tongues clashing, fighting for dominance. It's messy, and passionate, and everything you could have hoped for. Both of his hands snake to the back of your head, pushing you towards him to deepen the kiss. Your breathing becomes laboured, hands grasping at his t shirt, balling it in your fists for something to grab onto. You nibble at his bottom lip, eliciting a breathy sigh from him.

Eddie breaks from the kiss and moves his mouth to your neck, mouthing and biting, hands running down your back.

"Well," he whispers into your skin between sucks to your throat, "who knew you were such a deviant." He bites into your shoulder through your t shirt making you cry out.

"I-I'm not a deviant" you struggle out, nails raking into the bare skin of his arms.

"Oh really? At The Hideout? At school? On my throne? You're a naughty girl" he gives you a self satisfied smirk and runs his tongue up the length of your neck, drawing out a loud cry from your throat.

"It felt good" you admit to him, "I liked the feeling, that I might get caught." You're cheeks redden at the confession. You had barely confessed it to yourself.

"Such a filthy girl. Jesus Christ, the things I've thought about." He pulls at the hem of your top; you comply, pulling it over your head, exposing your breasts since you had forgoed a bra.

Eddie's groan at your bare breasts vibrates through the air in the room and straight to your cunt. His eyes look like they are about to pop right out of his head.

"The photos didn't do you justice darling. Holy shit, look at you."

You steal the moment he's taken to stare and worship.

"So, are you gonna marry me now Munson?' You joke, biting your lip and smiling.

"Eventually. First? First I'm gonna..." he takes your nipple between his teeth, biting softly, and you take a shocked breath, "I'm gonna absolutely rail you" he takes your nipple into his mouth fully and sucks hard, squeezing the other so much it borders on pain. You wail his name in response. It releases from his mouth with a wet sound. "I'm gonna fuck you everywhere you took a picture."

You laugh incredulously, then look at his eyes, and see his solemn stare in response. Oh, he was being serious. Your pussy contracted at the thought, squeezing around an imaginary length. "You'd like that wouldn't you, you dirty girl?"

You can only hum in response, tugging at his t shirt. He whips it off, allowing your fingers to explore his unchartered skin, running fingertips over his unseen tattoos. Hands stroking, caressing his flesh. Eddie groans at your touches and reaches to undo his jeans, belt undone, popping the button.

He licks the flat of his tongue across your nipple, making you whimper. "You think you can help me out?" Gesturing to his crotch.

"Mmm yeah" you breathe, fumbling with the fly, pulling it down and pushing him backwards onto the bed. You see his boxers, and reach out to pull them down and release his swollen cock. It pops up, rising from the base of brunette curls, curving slightly at the tip, girthy and dribbling. You kneel between his legs and take the tip into your mouth, moaning around his length. Eddie nearly bucks into your mouth at the feeling, trying so hard not to fuck into your throat.

You take more of his length, nose pressed to his curls, gagging slightly. Eddie makes a high pitched moan. God, the feeling of him at your mercy makes your core hum with need. You run your tongue around his member and lick the sensitive tip, hands slightly squeezing the base.

"Fuck princess I, I can't last if you do that!" He pulls you off and stares in your eyes.

"Where did you take the pictures. I know you must have taken some in here."

You point wordlessly to the white fluffy rug in front of your wardrobe.

"Stand up." You can't find it in you to disobey.

Eddie's strong hands stroke down your sides, making their way to your jeans, undoing them and tugging them down to your ankles along with your underwear. There you stood, completely exposed to him. You could feel yourself dripping almost, slick feathering your thighs.

Eddie licks his lips. "Fuck you are so hot. I wanna taste you. But not now. Get on your hands and knees." He roughly handles you into position and you gasp at how dominant he is being. Every word is shooting to your core, making you throb with need.

You do as you are asked, on your hands and knees, waiting to see what was next.

Rough fingertips graze your heat making you cry out.

"Easy baby, gotta get you ready for me." He slips a finger into your pussy and you squeeze around it desperately, back arching. Slowly, he pumps it in and out, watching you squeal and squirm. The lewd wet noise is echoing through the room along with your moans. He adds another finger and you buck into his hand, fucking yourself onto his digits.

"Shit baby you gonna cum already? Fuck." He pumps his fingers into you faster, curling them into you.

"Eddie yes fuck!" You release suddenly, unexpectedly, squealing his name like a prayer. The molten red hotness of your orgasm peels through your every vein. Panting and sweaty you look back at him.

"Fuck me, you're as pretty as a picture." He chuckles darkly, pulling his boxers down.

"You got a condom baby?"

"No, no please just fuck me, I'm on the pill."

"Jesus Christ you are filthy, gonna fuck this pussy good yeah?"

You push back in response, your soaked lips touching the tip of his cock. He pushes into you, the filthiest moan escaping his lips.

This is what you had been craving. The sneaking around, the thrill of being caught, it was nothing compared to feeling his throbbing dick inside of you, stretching out your cunt so much no other dick could possibly compare. It hurt, but it was breathtaking. A pain you wanted to feel over and over. Eddie gave you a moment to get used to him, hands pressing into the fat of your hips, molding into his palms. Then he did as he said he would, railing into you at an unforgiving pace, pounding you from behind so roughly you were practically screaming. It was animalistic and feral and you fucking loved it. Every thrust was fire, the way he grabbed at you was possessiveness personified. He owned you.

You had never known a boy to be so loud before. His moans and cries were stabbing at you as much as his cock was.

"You like that sweetheart? Gonna fuckin' ruin you." Thrusting, stabbing into you, he grabbed you by your throat, pulling you bodily upwards. You could feel the cold of his rings pressed against you. He squeezed and you let out the longest, loudest moan you'd ever known, crushing his cock with how tight you were inside. Your orgasm came quickly, breaking you down into pieces. You became undone, a broken shell, moans and whines flowing from your lips.

You fell to the floor, hips only staying in place due to his strong hands. He'd released your throat, letting your head flop down, driving into you with even more force.

The overstimulation turned you into a screaming hot mess, but Eddie wasn't done with you yet. Pushing your head down into the rug he continued to force into you hard and fast until his movements began to falter and he released into your cunt. You felt his cum hit your gummy walls and the feeling was just too much, you were so sensitive and sore from the way he had used you. Tears streaked your cheeks, hot against your flushed face. Utterly and completely fucked.

You both stopped, frozen in that ridiculous position, until you felt his fingertips grazing your back tenderly, a harsh contrast from the previous moment you had shared together.

"Was that ok?" Barely a whisper, as if he thought you might blow away in the breeze.

"...yeah" you manage to gasp out, trying to lift yourself, suddenly unable to support the weight of your own head.

"Shit sweetheart sorry." Eddie pulled out from you and you whined at the loss. You'd never felt so empty. But then he was there, lifting your upper half up, getting you to lay back so he could pick you up bodily and lay you out on the bedclothes. Your knees were sore and red and your pussy lips were painful and swollen.

Eddie walked off to your bathroom, returning with a warm cloth. The tenderness honestly surprised you. Never had a boy tried to take care of you after. He swept the cloth between your folds, making you hiss at the contact. Eddie shushed you, cleaning you up. Then he laid facing you, hand brushing your side.

"You ok sweetheart?" He look on his face was practically dripping with concern, his hands roaming over you, trying to soothe and console you.

"Yes baby, fuck that was.. that was something else" you giggle at him, fingers drifting over his torso, feeling at the relaxed muscles.

"So, a nap, then a drive yeah?"

"What??"

"What's the next spot? The Hideout? Don't think I'm finished with you yet, I've got a promise to deliver future Mrs Munson."

You laugh out loud, holding him tightly.

#eddie x you #eddie fanfic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie x fem!reader #ms gexy writes #stranger things #stranger things fan fic

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sant-riley · 1 year

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[Task force 141 + others with Gen z!reader] [pt3]

A/N: Some of these you /may/ have seen on tiktok, that is me who posted them on tiktok. I am green haired bitch so no I didn't steal anything LMAO. I hope these live up to yalls expectations.

The last two of these my lovely friend gave me inspiration for <3 @frogchiro

Warnings: She/her pronouns swearing, age gaps, tiktok memes (like always lmk if I miss something!)

You steal Prices hat on numerous occasions bc its a fashion abomination and you refuse to let this man wear it around you. You hide around base as frequently as you can.

Jokes on you though bc he will literally wait til it's your birthday and buy you a matching one and will laugh at your scream of disgust.

Gaz one ups him by gifting you a matching hat as well, putting it on your head as he flicks the brim.

"Thanks Gaz! I love it!

"And not mine?"

"You're on thin ice, old man."

Price gets gifted a set from manscaped by the guys as a gag gift. He uses it for his beard bc he never bothered to look into why everyone was laughing around him.

Price takes your phone when you try and show him memes, squinting hard as fuck like a dad 💀

Soap, if yall have the time off takes you to scottish football games and it's a whole thing. You sitting there while he gets drunk out of his fucking mind, hollering and whooping and you're there trying to sink into your seat.

Chances are someone's gonna shove you and you're gonna trip and fall bc everyone's so amped up and Soap threatens to beat the shit out of them. It's a miracle y'all don't get kicked out 💀

If you have tattoos, Soap is the first one to take a marker set and color them in and adding his own additions. If you were ever to get them actually tattooed, he would tear up and pretend he isn't emotional about it.

"You like me that much Bonnie?"

He would get something of you too, so it evens out. This also makes Ghost in turn get a tattoo for you bc he refuses to be out done and he's just as attached

Neither of them get your call sign or your name, but they get something personal to what each of them associate you with.

The first time you meet Alex, you're across the room doing something that has your focus and didn't realize this is actually your first time meeting him. You ask him for a hand only to look up and see him extend his prosthetic at you with a smile and you scream.

"You asked for a hand but best I can do is a Leg." Price comes running and he sees the scene and rolls his eyes.

Everyone single one of them are the definition of "my girl can wear whatever she wants bc I'll break your jaw." meme btw. You can take care of yourself but you never need to bc they will beat a bitch up.

Laswell invites you constantly to come over and meet with her wife, esp if you don't have a mother figure. She always always tries to come on base to see you and always has a birthday and Christmas present on it's way to you wherever you may be. Her wife loves you to death and they've pretty much adopted you and you cannot escape it, oh well.

Gaz buys you whatever your little heart desires, especially if he's deployed away in a country where they sell exclusives of whatever you enjoy. It's a pain in the fucking ass to try and ship a anime figure to your place from Japan but he's gonna try his best.

Ghost doesn't share his food, or at least it was before you came along. He groans and grumbles about having to feed you but he wouldn't do it if he truly didn't want to. Soap asks and Ghost tells him to fuck off.

If you watch anime, please imagine trying to get everyone in the room and trying to explain who Dabi is. They're all so fucking old they keep thinking you're referring to the elf from Harry Potter and it infuriates you to no end.

Soap and Gaz know better but it's funnier to see you mad.

Being the youngest, they absolutely force you to do the jobs they don't want to. Whether it be cleaning the barracks, to cooking dinner when able, it doesn't matter bc they'll all pull rank on you.

"You're the new kid, get to it then."

"Ghosttttt-"

"Don't Ghost me."

Soap is the kind of motherfucker to play the fifa games and doesn't understand that he's stupid for buying it every single year bc there are no changes oncesoever. He will not listen to you about it and you've given up.

Ghost will see you talk about your etsy list and will ask for your phone, you trust him so of course you hand it over. He hands it back to you and it's just, all purchased. He says nothing while he sips on his tea while you scream at him asking why he did it. He won't tell you but it's because he knows it makes you happy and it'll keep your mood up, giving you a reason to be motivated to get through missions. It's also because he knows that retail therapy is a thing for your generation.

Soap, if you do any, is actually really good at doing your makeup! He knows how to do everything and he refuses to elaborate. (As a kid he'd do his mom's makeup when she went out for dates) he's the one who helps you doll up if you're going undercover.

Ghost, Gaz and Price find you unfunny whenever you make a "wow I wish British people were real." You say it so often and it gets annoying but they also just accept it's a part of life.

Soap personally enjoys the "SCOTLAND FOREVERRRRRRR" meme and will scream it with you. Ghost threatens to cut yalls tongue out.

Other parts can be found under #Kayla writes <3

Taglist:

@devilsfoodcake22 @simon-rileys-princess

@stupid-ninja @milkmily

@lune-la-chanson @tamayakii

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toournextadventure · 11 months

Text

oblivious

Summary: You've been Vada's roommate for a while now and she still has yet to notice that you have feelings for her. You hoped accepting a date with someone else would force her hand. In a way, it did

Word Count: 4.2k Warnings: swearing, smut 18+, weed and alcohol mention Pairing: Vada Cavell x Fem!Reader (no pronouns used) A/N: I'm still getting the hang of Vada's personality so y'all bear with me, but I'm workin on it, I'll get there

“Honey, I’m home,” Vada called out, stopping you in your tracks on the way to the bathroom.

You couldn’t help smiling at Vada’s ridiculous phrase that she had started using whenever she got back to the shared apartment. If you were being honest, you couldn’t remember when she had started it; it hadn’t been too long after you had first agreed to rent an apartment together with her friends Mia and Nick. All you knew was one day she practically crashed into the apartment, said her now-famous tagline, and it stuck.

The best part of it all? She only ever said it to you. Never to Mia, never to Nick, only to you. It made your crush on her grow each time, even though you certainly didn’t need the help. Just the words alone had your stomach twisting into knots in the most delicious way.

And that little dumbass didn’t even know what she was doing.

“Don’t you have another class?” You asked with a tilt of your head. It was a bit too early for her to be home, especially on a Tuesday.

“Skipped it,” she said with her cheesy grin that never failed to make your heart race. “Why take Lit when I can have you teach me?”

“That’s not how it works, V,” you chuckled. “I can’t give you credit.”

“But you can- are you getting in the shower?”

There it was; the attention change. It happened a bit sooner than usual, but you weren’t entirely surprised. At first you had been confused at Vada’s change of topic and attention at such a fast pace, but now it was expected. At least she looked cute.

“Yes I am,” you said with a nod. “Did the towel give it away?”

“It’s Tuesday,” Vada said, completely ignoring your attempt at teasing her. “You don’t shower on Tuesdays.”

Ah. So she did pay attention to a few things.

“I got asked on a date,” you shrugged.

“A date?” She asked incredulously. Rude. “With who?”

You sighed and leaned against the doorframe. “Know that guy from my Fluid Flow class? Jacob?”

“The one with the stupid lip piercing?”

“It’s not stupid,” you said with a huff. “But yes.”

“You agreed to go on a date with him?” Vada asked incredulously. “What happened to your standards?”

“It’s not like I’m getting asked on many dates,” you argued.

“But him?” She continued.

“Well who else should I go with?” You asked. “You?”

Vada froze, her mouth still flopping open at the revelation of your plans for the evening. You wanted her to tell you not to go. To say that yes, you should go on a date with her. Maybe you were being a bit cruel to just not tell her, but you wanted her to say something. Although in hindsight maybe you shouldn’t have expected Vada Cavell to pick up on all the signs you had given her.

Which were numerous.

She shifted her weight and looked down at her feet. You could see her scuffing the toe of her shoe into the floor, a nervous habit of hers. Part of you got hopeful; she was nervous, maybe she would finally say something. Hell, you would be happy if she simply said she didn’t want you to go.

“You should go shower,” she finally said, and you felt your heart drop. “I’ll help you pick out what to wear once you’re out.”

“Right,” you said with a sigh.

The entire time you were in the shower you were seething. No, not quite seething, you were disappointed. You knew it was a bit unrealistic of you to expect Vada to know how you were feeling, especially about her, but you couldn’t help it. How could she not see that you wanted her to ask you on a date? Yes you should just do it yourself, especially at this point, but you weren’t going to risk anything.

Your father would’ve just told you to task her on your own. You were the one with the feelings, you should ask. And he would have been right, you knew that, but you didn’t want to ask. What if Vada didn’t actually like you that way? She acted goofy with Mia and Nick too, so you couldn’t use that as justification for your hopes.

By the time you got out of the shower and finished getting ready, Vada was already waiting in your room. She was hanging her head upside down on the bed while scrolling through her phone. Her brows were scrunched in an adorable frown from whatever she was looking at. The minute she noticed you standing in the doorway, she smiled wide and sat up.

“About time,” she said as she stood up and went to your closet, “I’ve got the perfect thing for tonight.”

“Perfect as in “I’ll look great” or as in “it’ll get me laid?” Because there’s a difference,” you said as you sat down on the bed and waited for Vada to come out of the closet.

Ha. You might be disappointed, but at least you were still funny. See? That was what Vada was missing out on and she didn’t even know it!

“Perfect as in “he’d be stupid not to ask you out again”,” she said with a grin as she turned around to show you what she had picked.

“Vada that’s,” you exhaled slowly, “that’s the most mundane outfit I’ve got.”

“Which is why he’d be stupid not to ask you out again,” she said, tossing everything your way. “I won’t look, promise.”

“Gee, thanks,” you mumbled to yourself as you nonetheless stood up and got dressed.

Part of you was thankful Vada had picked out a regular outfit; at least it was comfortable, and that was always a plus. Did you think Jacob would ask you out again? Absolutely not, he was a frat boy, you knew he wouldn’t ask you out again the moment you decided you weren’t going to put out. At least you would be comfortable when you were rejected.

“How do I look?” You asked, and Vada turned around so quickly she nearly fell.

The moment she actually managed to focus on you, she fell into what looked like a daze. Her jaw dropped and her eyes were looking you up and down. And for a moment, she looked like she wanted to say something. Say it, you mentally urged her, tell me to stay. You played with your fingers and watched her with hopeful eyes.

“You’re so getting laid tonight,” she whispered.

“Yippee,” you said with another huff. She was getting a lot of those out of you tonight.

“You’d better get going,” she said as she practically pushed you out of your room toward the front door. “You don’t want to be late.”

“Thought you didn’t like Jacob?” You asked.

“I don’t, but I wanna watch a movie,” she said, now opening the front door. “And you’re not invited.”

“Well that’s just rude,” you said.

“Have fun!” Vada called out as she shut the front door in your face.

You just stood there in complete shock. Had you really just gotten kicked out of your own apartment by the girl you were quite possibly in love with? Simply because she wanted to watch a movie? It was so on par for Vada that you honestly weren’t even surprised.

The door opened again and you looked in, hopeful that Vada had changed her mind. She stood in the doorway and looked at you again. Please ask me to stay, you silently begged her. But then she pushed something into your arms, which you scrambled to hold onto.

“Forgot your phone and wallet,” she said before slamming the door shut again. “Have fun!”

“Oh fuck me,” you grumbled, but nonetheless put your phone and wallet in your back pocket and left the apartment.

—---

Life sucked. It sucked and it was out to get you personally. You could get over the fact that it had started raining on the walk over to the restaurant. Then there was the fact that you had gotten lost at least three times, but that could also be forgiven. And your phone dying? Well, that was also shitty even though you had forgotten to charge it at home, so it happened.

But then you got to the restaurant and sat at the bar, like you were supposed to, and waited. And then you ordered a drink and waited some more. And some more. And wouldn’t you know it, an hour and a half and three drinks later, you were closing your tab and heading back to the apartment. The apartment that you had been kicked out of by someone who was supposed to pick up on your cues.

There was just enough alcohol in your system to have you thoroughly pissed off by the time you got back to the apartment. You could smell the weed from out in the hallway and knew Vada was either high as a kite or well on her way to it. Normally you wouldn’t care; she was respectful with it and was, honestly, pretty adorable under the influence.

Unfortunately for Vada, it just wasn’t your night.

You unintentionally slammed the door shut behind you when you entered, leaning back against it to get yourself back under control. The music was loud and obnoxious and the smell of weed was giving you a headache. Or maybe it was the alcohol. Or maybe it was the fact you got stood up. Actually, maybe it was just everything.

“Nick?” Vada’s voice came from her room. At least she wasn’t smoking out in the living room like you had initially thought.

“Just me,” you called back before exhaling slowly and walking further into the apartment. The sloshing sound of your wet shoes on the floor was horrible.

“Y/N?” Something fell to the floor with a hard thud. You looked down the hallway until you saw Vada practically falling out of her room, hitting the opposite wall fairly hard. “You’re back early.”

“Yup,” you said, popping the “p” for emphasis.

“So… did he like your outfit?” She asked as she stood up, her hands instantly going to play with the hem of her shirt. Wait… was that your shirt?

“I don’t know,” you said before finally tossing your soaking wet wallet and hopefully-dry phone onto the couch. “He never showed.”

“What?” Vada asked incredulously, her sleepy eyes suddenly widening.

You huffed. “He stood me up, V.”

“But… but he asked you,” she said in a soft voice.

“It’s whatever,” you said with a sigh as you made your way into your room with Vada hot on your heels. “He wasn’t exactly the one I wanted anyway.”

“He wasn’t?” She asked. You didn’t bother turning around to look at her as you started digging in your closet for something dry to put on. “Then why did you say yes?”

“Because I was hoping a certain someone would get the hint,” you grumbled. Truthfully you didn’t care if she even heard you or not. She was high, it was not the proper time for this revelation to come out.

“If they didn’t get the hint then they’re a complete dumbass,” she said after a moment of silence. You closed your eyes and exhaled slowly once again. “Because they’d be stupid not to ask you out.”

“Yeah they would,” you agreed quickly before grabbing a t-shirt from your closet. “Don’t look.”

You checked over your shoulder to see Vada on your bed, dutifully covering her eyes with both hands. Why did she have to actually listen? You were standing in the middle of your room, soaking wet, about to take your shirt off, and she wasn’t going to look? Dammit, Vada, lose your morals!

“Anyone would be lucky to date you,” she said while you peeled your wet clothes off. “And if they don’t realise that then they’re an idiot.”

“Keep talking, Cavell,” you mumbled to yourself; you knew she couldn’t hear you.

“If I ever had the chance to date you, I certainly wouldn’t screw it up,” she continued talking.

Now that had you slowing your movements, taking your time to finish kicking your pants off. It left you in your shirt and underwear, but that wasn’t on your mind. You slowly turned to look at Vada, who still had her hands over her eyes, as you went over her words.

Did she really think that? Was that the sign you had needed to know that she actually liked you back? Yes you had been playing this game for around three years at that point. And yes, you should have said something ages ago, even your dad had said so. But was she admitting that she liked you?

“Who said you didn’t have a chance?” You asked slowly, your eyes still glued to where Vada was playfully swinging her legs over the side of your bed.

“Who said I did have a chance?” She asked in reply. “I’m not stupid, I’m not your type.” You stepped closer to the bed. “Your type is a bunch of nerds who are way below your league.” You sat down on the bed beside her. “Which you should change, by the way, you can do so much better than all those other-”

-you leaned forward to capture Vada’s lips with yours, silencing her rant. It wasn’t a long kiss, you didn’t want to give off the wrong idea. Or maybe you did, you weren’t sure yet. All you knew was she was going to keep talking until she either fell asleep or you silenced her, and honestly, a kiss was the best way. It killed two birds with one stone.

When you pulled away, you watched as her hands pulled down her face and she looked up at you. Her eyes were still bloodshot and you could still smell the weed on her clothes, but she was looking at you clearly. There was a slight flush to her freckled cheeks, and you would have kissed her again if it meant she would stay looking just like that.

“You kissed me,” she said softly.

“Yeah,” you said with a nod and a poor attempt at hiding your smile. “I did.”

“I thought you liked someone though?”

“Oh my god,” you groaned. “Are you serious?”

“What?” She asked as she sat up. “Are you serious? What about that person you like-”

“-I like you, Vada,” you practically shouted. She fell silent, something she didn’t do often. “You’re the other person that I like.”

“You- you like me?” She asked with wide eyes. “Me?”

“For fuck’s sake,” you groaned, “yes you.”

Vada nodded slowly as her eyes fell to a spot on the bed, close to where your hand was resting. You could practically see the gears turning in her head, going over this new revelation. Part of you was upset at yourself for telling her such a thing now, when you were grumpy and a little tipsy and she was high and unexpecting. Terrible timing, really.

“I thought I was the only one with those feelings,” she finally said, slowly so as to get her thoughts out properly. Something you adored about her. “That you weren’t interested.”

“Vada, I’ve been dropping hints for the past year,” you said with a soft sight. Not a frustrated one, simply to break the tension. “Even Nick and Mia knew.”

“I didn’t want to assume,” she said without looking at you. “I didn’t want to risk not having you around just because I caught feelings.”

“You don’t just catch feelings, you know,” you said as you leaned forward a little more so you could force her to look at you.

“And you really do like me?” She asked, looking up into your eyes; suddenly, she seemed a hell of a lot more sober. “Like, for real?”

“What is this, high school?” You asked with a snort. “Yes, Vada, I like you for real.”

“So does that mean I can kiss you again?” She asked, perking up at the mere thought. “Because your lips are really soft and I think I could kiss them forever if you would let me-”

-you leaned forward and kissed her again, immediately cutting her off. But this time you didn’t pull back; you leaned even further into her, your hand moving to rest on the back of her neck. She grabbed you by the front of your shirt and pulled until she was laying down and you were leaning over her.

“Wait,” she mumbled against your lips, “you like me enough to have sex with me, right?”

“Just shut up, V,” you groaned as you kissed her again.

She didn’t argue.

You weren’t sure if you should blame it on the alcohol, or the weed, or the revelation of it all, but you weren’t in the mood to be patient. Night after night you had dreamed of having Vada in your bed, teasing her until she was a mess underneath you. But now that you had her, you just wanted to hear her fall apart.

Clearly she was in the same mood as you because her hands quickly found their way under your shirt until they brushed against your ribs. It tickled and sent a shiver down your spine, which you felt her smile about. You knew it wasn’t a competition. That didn’t stop you from placing your knee between her thighs and pressing up against her.

“Oh shit,” she groaned against your lips as her nails scratched against your skin.

You kept your knee stationary as she grinding against it hesitantly. Even through her boxers you could feel how wet she was; it wouldn’t take long before she left your thigh wet too. You started kissing your way across her jaw, leaving small kisses below her ear before moving down her neck.

Her hands left a fire in their wake as she moved them up, quickly sliding them up to your breasts that were no longer confined by the wet bra you had been wearing earlier. You both inhaled sharply when she brushed her knuckles against your nipples; her hips stuttered for only a moment before resuming.

“Hang on,” Vada whispered into your ear, and you stiffened before sitting up.

Had you done something wrong? There hadn’t been much, but what if she had decided she wasn’t okay with it anymore? It was fine, you would respect it and wouldn’t do anything else, but fuck. Fuck, maybe you had just pushed it a little too fast. You knew you should have kept your cool.

“Take it off,” she said as she pulled on your shirt lightly before struggling to get her own shirt off.

Oh. Oh right.

“Never hesitate to free the titties,” she said with a cheesy smile.

“Never say that again,” you groaned, only smiling when your shirt was hiding your face.

“I just know how to appreciate a- holy shit.”

You watched Vada’s jaw drop - again - once your shirt was finally off. Her eyes were zeroed in on one thing. Well, two things, and even though you felt a little self-conscious, you knew it was just Vada. No, not just Vada, it was your Vada. Who was still halfway in her shirt and clearly too distracted to continue.

“You’re such a horndog,” you mumbled as you leaned forward to help her pull her shirt the rest of the way over her head.

“I hit the jackpot,” she whispered.

“Just lay back down,” you said as you pushed her shoulder lightly and watched her fall back onto the bed, her eyes still glued to your breasts.

“I can still touch?” She asked.

“Yes, V,” you chuckled, “you can still touch.”

“Oh fuck yes,” she whispered before pulling you back in for a kiss.

Just as you figured, her hands instantly found your breasts again. Each touch sent a tingling sensation down to your core. Maybe you shouldn’t have mentally teased Vada earlier for being so wet. Even though you had no proof yet, you just knew you were going to be soaked if this went on much longer.

While Vada continued focusing on her newest obsession, you just let yourself feel her. Her skin was so incredibly soft and warm. It was exactly what you had expected from her. The muscles in her stomach tensed underneath your fingers before relaxing again. When you brushed your knuckles against her hip, she giggled into your mouth.

“I’m ticklish,” she said.

“I can tell,” you answered with your own smile and another kiss.

“You’re just being too soft,” she continued. Oh Vada. You kept moving your hand. “Soft touches tickle.” Your hand effortlessly slipped past the waistband of her boxers that were far too big. “Especially on my hips-”

-she stopped herself with a moan when you finally managed to rub your fingers over her clit. Oh god she was wet, you almost struggled to stay in the right spot. But when you heard her moan again, her head thrown back against your mattress, well it was worth the struggle.

“Fuck you’re good at this,” Vada managed to gasp out when you circled her clit again.

“Baby?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up,” you mumbled before leaving kisses on Vada’s neck. Her hands tangled in your hair as she pulled you up into a real kiss.

“Did you have a martini tonight?” Vada asked.

“Seriously?”

“You taste like a martini,” she said, her breath coming out in huffs as you continued to slowly circle her clit. Not enough to get her off, but fast enough to keep building her up.

And then it hit you. Oh. Oh, Vada was nervous. You had both talked of your personal exploits and experiences so you knew she wasn’t a virgin. Yet she had always seemed a bit bashful about the whole thing. It all made sense now; she was simply nervous.

You removed your hand and tried not to smile at Vada’s whine at the loss of sensation. But she quickly shut up when you grabbed one of her hands and slid it under your own underwear, doing your best not to moan at the feel of her fingers on you. And just as you had expected, and much like Vada, you were soaked. Embarrassingly so.

“Holy fuck,” Vada groaned against your lips before leaning up and capturing your lips.

She bit your bottom lip when you replaced your hand and continued circling her clit. Usually you would tease, but with Vada? Right then and there, when you were so humiliatingly sensitive and probably wouldn’t last very long? No, you wanted to make her cum until she was seeing stars.

And as you moved your fingers faster, you knew it wouldn’t take long. It was in the little pants and moans she let out, the squirming of her hips, the spastic movements of her fingers. Not that you could judge, you were losing your rhythm as well, doing your best to keep your composure even as she continued to turn you to putty under her fingers.

“I’m close,” she panted.

Thank god, you thought as you rubbed your finger in faster, tighter circles. Unlike Vada, you couldn’t bring yourself to talk, knowing the second you opened your mouth you would let out a moan that would haunt you for the rest of your life. It was only a few more seconds before Vada pulled back, her eyes squeezed shut as she stilled beneath you. Her fingers continued moving, and you felt your own orgasm wash over you. You let out a groan as you rutted against her fingers to chase the high, only letting yourself fall beside her when the feeling had dissipated.

“Holy shit,” Vada whispered. “We can do that again, right?”

“Oh my god,” you chuckled as you lifted your hands to cover your eyes. “We just finished.”

“But we can do it again, right?” She asked.

You rolled over onto your side and looked at her. At the sheen of sweat covering her half-naked body and left her practically glowing under the singular ceiling light in your room. The rise and fall of her chest that was slowly but steadily returning back to normal. The absolutely stunning smile on her face that had your chest feeling warm and your stomach swarming with butterflies.

“How about we shower and then sleep,” you suggested. “And maybe we can do it again tomorrow.”

Vada turned her head to look at you, her smile still present although looking a little more mischievous.

“Can we do it in the shower?”

“Never mind, I’m going without you.”

“Wait, hang on!”

You smiled to yourself as you quickly shut the bathroom door behind you, effectively locking Vada out. She stomped her foot - which you could imagine perfectly - before walking off. You half expected her to stay gone until you heard more shuffling on the other side and something slid under the door. With a half-cocked head, you picked up the piece of paper.

No boobs? :(

“Not anymore,” you called out through the door, to which Vada replied with a groan as she finally walked away, presumably to your room.

As you got in the shower, you couldn’t help but smile. Maybe you should thank Jacob for standing you up. He had accidentally made a fantastic wingman.

#vada cavell x reader #vada x reader #vada cavell #jenna ortega x reader

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elaemae · 2 months

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The premium version of human is here to wreak house, mfs.

[Twst x ObeyMe!AFAB!reader]

CHP. 7

Again, I thank y'all for the reblogs, likes and comments guys, it really helps me :)

CW: Blue pronouns or address for MC every time they get mistaken for a guy. Also, I'm a potty mouth so MC is too.

Inhale..

Exhale....

Inhale......

Exhale.......

Inhale.........

Ex-fucking-hale.......

You're about to have a stroke right now.

You should've just went back to the goddamn infirmary instead of checking in on these obnoxious, bitch-less, probably father-less, motherfuckers.

It's just cleaning windows!! How the hell can you mess up like this?! Why the fuck did the cafeteria chandelier get involved??

GODDAMNIT!! WHY IS YUU INVOLVED AS WELL?! AHHHH—!

*One eternity of screaming like a banshee later*

After sending those damn kids and cat away to get some sort of magical stone in some godforsaken mine, you wrangled with the headmaster for at least two hours to prevent him from writing up the expulsion papers of Yuu and that Blue-haired kid who was mostly innocent about the ordeal.

(Meanwhile, encouraging him to kick that Ace kid and the damn cat off the school. You ain't about to let audacity run free rn, mostly because you feel yourself start genuinely tweaking as you almost got possessed by the urge to sucker punch someone's soul out of their body.)

[Satan perked up, there it was again.

That distinctive spark of wrath that he can feel through your pact with him is both concerning and comforting.

On one hand, the anger he feels means that you're alive. And seeing that what he's feeling through the pact is mostly annoyance, then that must mean that nothing marginally bad or traumatizing had happened to you yet.

You're actually more pissed off in a 'someone-had-the-audacity-to-eat-my-snacks' kind of way more than anything else, meaning that you're safe for now.

But on the other hand, he doesn't know how long that temporary safety will last.

There's also the fact this is the fourth time he'd felt that spark of 'I-wanna-punt-someone-into-the-fuckin-sun' kind of anger from you, which is worrying because it hasn't even been 48 hours since you were kidnapped by some mf.

He shook his head, calling upon a subordinate (read: Devoted fan) to collect more and more books to learn what type of teleportation and sleeping magic was used in your kidnapping.

With the massive search party spanning all three realms that they'd called upon, they will find you sooner or later.

And once they do...

Well... You'll need to get used to being with someone at all hours of the day.]

*Passive-aggresively reminding Crowley that he can't kick out an innocent kid for something they didn't directly do as they had no way of stopping the events that transpired.*

["You don't want the word to get out that you let an innocent teen roam around in a foreign world with absolutely nothing to their name and nobody to protect them, right?"

"That is true, but I still can't just let this go unpunis–"

"Especially when it's the school's faulty equipment that took them so far away from all of their loved ones and belongings, right?"]

Needless to say, Yuu ended up being "fired" in the end, quite an unfortunate result because they will need to freeload off of you until the end of your stay in this world. (Poor them, they got fired before they knew that they had a job in the first place.)

Oh well, it's better than being kicked out from practically their only way back home right now...

Hays... That cruel crow..

Anygays, it's time to snoop around and hopefully make some connections to the residents of this school.

This is a well-known college, right? So there should be influential people here somewhere...

Hehe.. It's time you bring out your gaslight, gatekeep, gold-digging skills so that you can girlboss your way into stability inside this foreign world.

• • • • • •

Suddenly, more than a dozen individuals felt a strong shiver run up their spines.

Haha... Well that's ominous!

• • • • • •

Ortho deadpanned at his brother.

It seems that almost burning down their dorm room last night isn't enough to deter him from making his [Mr. L/n x reader] fanfiction complete with mandatory fan art for every single chapter.

Haaa....

But at least his brother isn't 'fanboying' about another fictional character again...

Hm... Now that he thinks about it..

Maybe his brother will be more inclined to make friends if it's Mr. L/n!

And thus begins Ortho's journey of being an unknowing wingman as he tries to get his introverted brother to make friends.

• • • • • •

You narrowed your eyes as you looked at the small gift on top of your temporary bed in the infirmary.

Dats suspicious....

Dats weird......

You turn your necklace into a staff and start poking the box, trying to see if it'll suddenly turn into a horrific eldritch monster and jump you. (Won't be the first time that happened.)

• • • • •

"It is done, ××× ×× ××××××" (This is too easy to guess😑)

• • • • •

Diavolo sighed for the tenth time that hour, lamenting how trying to focus on his paperwork is a really hard task when MC gets thrown into the situation.

'Maybe a small break will help clear my head?'

He might as well just go out for a walk in the garden to get some fresh... air...

Oh? what is this?

His eyes scanned the dark envelope he'd seen wedged under the 'To burn' stack of paperwork in his desk.

This envelope wasn't here yesterday...

After confirming that the piece of paper wasn't cursed or charmed, he opened it with apprehension.

...!

This..!

• • • • •

Barbatos appeared in the office, tense as he'd heard his lord call out his name with haste.

Reading the letter shoved in front of his face by the serious Diavolo, Barbatos made a mental note to get the dungeon chambers ready.

They've got themselves a lead.

← Pr.6 | Chapter List | Chp. 1.1 →

Just tell me if y'all wanna get added in the permanent taglist, even if I already tagged y'all here.

That's just so I'll know if you wanna get tagged in all the upcoming chapters of this fanfic.

@caprinaesprout

@iameliseposts

@leviathans-tail-scales

@twst-om-lover

@a-traveling-void-human

Reblog or I'll take your ankles😈 (Pls like and reblog, it really gives me motivation��)

Also, the next chap is the start of Arc 1: Satan but short.

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turtletaubwrites · 2 months

Text

A Good Catch ~ Part 4 ~ End

Shanks got the vote for my 600 Followers Celebration, and now I am wrecked. I love this fictional man so much. Please enjoy the conclusion to this lil story. 🎣💖 Thank you for all of the love and support, y'all are amazing!! 🥰

Pairings: Shanks x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4275

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Ao3 Link

Summary: Your impromptu vacation is coming to an end, and you try to enjoy it as much as you can. You want Shanks to know how much it's all meant to you.

Rating/Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Swearing, Smut, Fluff, Angst, Teasing, Flirting, Alcohol, Penis in Vagina Sex, Unprotected Sex, (Be safe out there), Vaginal Fingering, Choking, Birth Control, Pet Names, Outdoor Sex, Porn with Feelings, Aftercare, Angst with a Happy Ending

A/N: I apologize for all the angst, but don't worry, it'll all be okay! I hope you enjoy this final chapter! This story was a pleasure to write. 🙏🏼

More dreams of the high seas rocked your sleep. The monstrous waves halted their deadly crash upon you as warm lips kissed along your jaw.

“Just a nightmare, damsel. I’m right here. I’ll save you.”

A choked sob left your throat as hot tears burned in your eyes before they’d even opened.

“Whoa, hey. You’re okay, sweetheart.”

Blinking through the tears, Shanks’ gorgeous face, lined with concern, filled your world.

“Need me to fight your dreams, Y/N? Never done that before, but I’ll find a way.”

He puffed up his chest before he kissed away your tears away, and your laugh lit his face up.

“There’s my fiery girl.”

Melting into a salty kiss, you let your bodies find each other again.

“Come here,” he rasped, guiding you to curl against him, his warmth pressed against your back.

He left kisses along your hair as contentment hummed softly through you.

Not enough.

“Want me again so soon,” he teased as you moved your hips back. He let out a hiss, and then a pleased chuckle when you found what you were looking for, rubbing your ass against the hard length of him.

“So greedy,” he purred, tracing his fingers along your neck and chest, his breath hot against your hair.

“I am.” The breathy confession poured out of you, pulling you free of some of that tension. “I'm greedy. And demanding.”

You reached your hand behind you, stroking that veiny cock up against the meat of your ass until he moaned for you.

“Presumptuous of you to demand anything of an Emperor of the Sea.”

His fingers wrapped gently around your throat, the tightening in your core almost painful as you cried out his name.

“Mm, what does my greedy, demanding little damsel want me to do to her?”

His cock twitched in your hand, letting only whimpers leave your lips.

He lifted his head off the pillow behind you, pressing his cheek against the back of your head to get closer to your ear. It didn’t matter where he was, or if he was even touching you, that voice would always destroy you.

“If you’re gonna be so rude, you’d better use your words.”

“Please…”

“That’s more like it,” he rasped, giving your neck just a hint of pressure. “Please what, pretty girl?”

You could feel slick dripping down your thighs already, and had to bite your lip hard to focus.

“Please, Shanks. I need your cock, need to feel you.”

“Good girl,” he praised, replacing your hand with his as he started to push between your thighs. “Fuck, sweetheart… Already drenched, hm? Lift that leg for me now.”

Your leg wobbled as he teased along your folds, lining up until he pressed the swollen tip of him inside.

“Please, please, please, please–”

Shanks dug his fingers into your hip, his voice heavy with his own need.

“Say my name.”

“Shanks– Oh my– Fuck! Shanks…”

The feel of him shoving himself into you sent your eyes rolling back. The force of his thrusts as he used your hip to slam into you harder tore raw, desperate noises from your throat.

“Don’t you dare fucking stop,” he growled behind you, losing some of his force as he released your hip. But he brought his hand to your throat again, squeezing until you choked out his name.

“Mm, you like this, Y/N? I can feel your sweet pussy gripping me so tight. Like when I choke you, baby?”

“Mhm,” you moaned, so close. Then his fingers clenched so fucking tight, and you came on his cock as you fought to say his name.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he groaned, kissing your hair as he loosened his hold. “I need to see you baby, can you move for me?”

After he helped you ride out that orgasm, you followed him, still twitching, until he had you where he wanted.

He sat up against the headboard, his eyes pouring over you as you slid onto his thick cock. The pressure of it had you slumping onto his chest, and he stroked your skin before pushing you back to meet his eyes.

“Can you stay with me, sweetheart?”

Your mind blanked at his words, eyes fluttering closed as you felt him pulsing against the walls of your greedy cunt.

“Can you keep your eyes on mine, Y/N? I wanna watch you fall apart for me.”

Of course.

Digging your fingers into his shoulders, your body thrashed as Shanks found the leverage he needed to make you scream. You gave him his name for as long as you could until you lost all words.

“Play with your clit, love. Let me see you.”

Your mouth fell slack with need as you were ruined again.

Shanks’ dark eyes were a mirage, everything golden, everything you needed, and you lost yourself in the feeling of hope. The feeling that it was real.

The feeling that he wouldn’t disappear like mist to leave you alone in a barren world once again.

“Gods, I need you so bad. Let go for me sweetheart. Mm, feels– fuck. Come for me…”

Right now Shanks was real, and you sent his name like a prayer to the heavens as he filled you with pleasure, with meaning, with the heat of his body, with him.

Your body drank him in, and he gifted you with your own name as you milked his cock, dancing with ecstasy until you lost the strength to hold yourself up.

He held you then, that spicy scent like the last bitter glimpse of the mirage. The last moment to pretend you were saved.

“You know, Y/N,” he let out, his own voice still breathy and strained, “I’ve lived a lot of stories, but I’ve never met a soul like yours before.”

You hummed against him, shivering as his cock twitched within you. You didn’t want to let him go.

“You hungry, sweetheart?”

Breakfast on the beach with the hungover symphony of groans and snores made you smile, Shanks grinning at you as he shielded his eyes from the morning sun.

“You know, it’s not polite to make fun of those in pain,” he reprimanded before stuffing a heaping spoonful into his mouth.

“Oh, my deepest apologies. I didn’t realize that the consequences of your own actions were above reproach. The poor drunken fools.”

Shanks snorted, giving you a crooked smile after wiping his gorgeous face.

“Would you like to take a tour of the ship with me today?”

“Do I get to visit the gift shop afterward?”

This earned you a kiss, his eyes devouring you, eating you up after your breakfast bowls were taken away.

The first place he took you was the crows nest, and he truly looked like a pirate now, making his climb look effortless, even missing an arm. You had never seen your island from so high up before, or the expanse of ocean stretching out so far.

“It’s beautiful…”

“I know,” he hummed, kissing your temple as he held you to him. “I’ve been wanting to ask you, Y/N…”

“Hm?”

Shanks’ eyes held that playful edge they usually did, but something seemed a little sharper.

“Your grandma had a lot of stories about pirates. But you seemed so scared when we found you. What made you so afraid of us?”

“You remember there were good pirates and bad pirates in those stories, right,” you asked, sitting on the bench to meet his gaze as he joined you.

“I remember,” he agreed, tilting his head. “But you were truly afraid. Did you think all pirates were bad?”

“Shanks, should I trust every pirate I meet,” you laughed, leaning back against the railing. “Pirates are lawless criminals, right? Are you expecting me to believe that I should feel safe getting pulled onto most pirate ships on these seas? Should I feel safe amongst a ship full of strangers when I can't tell if they're the good ones or the bad ones?”

Shanks didn’t meet your laughter, his lips quirking as he looked down at his sandaled feet.

“No, you’re right,” he affirmed, his voice almost distant. “You were right to feel scared.”

“You made me feel safe,” you comforted, touching his knee to make him meet your eyes. “I’ve never felt safer than I do with you.”

His slow smile was everything to you, and he kissed your knuckles, the warmth of him lighting you up.

“I’ve gotta check on some things today. Come with me? I’ll show you our old girl, the Red Force.”

“Because you’re leaving tomorrow?”

Those words had remained unspoken, but you couldn’t keep them in anymore. His fingers tensed around yours, and you hated yourself for the hint of emotion you’d let into your voice.

“That’s right,” he almost whispered, trailing his thumb along your skin. “I need to make sure my ship is safe to go.”

I’m ruining it, I ruined it.

Grateful that he climbed down first, you took the time to school your face, and swallow the heat of pain in your throat.

Every moment that he stood you in front of some part of his beautiful ship, telling you about what he loved the most, you wished he would just keep his fingers on your skin.

More of the crew was on the ship today than you’d seen before, greeting you both as they reported to their captain.

Every now and then, as you passed by a little alcove, a hidden corner, Shanks would pull you aside.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/N.”

“Say my name for me, sweetheart,”

“Kiss me, please. Kiss me now.”

Time meant nothing, as you let yourself be with him. Laugh with him, joke with him, enjoy each moment.

“And here’s–”

“Your fishing equipment,” you asked without needing to, the smell giving it away.

“Mhm, what do you think?”

Ooh, you had thoughts.

“How the fuck are you alive,” you questioned, holding a decaying pole aloft. “How can you survive on the seas like this? Do you even catch any fish? What the fuck is this net?”

Shanks laughed at your outrage, and you rounded on him with genuine horror.

“We get by,” he choked out, laughter still caught in his throat.

“I’m genuinely impressed,” you said flatly, crossing your arms at him. “For someone that grew up on the ocean, I assumed you knew something about fishing. It’s a miracle you haven’t starved to death already.”

“I think I’ve encountered a few miracles in my time,” he grinned, tugging you toward him.

“Stop doing that,” you breathed, pulling away before you panicked, grabbing his hand in both of yours.

“Are you o–”

“Sorry,” you rushed out, “I’m just pissed that a world renowned pirate ship has such a pathetic excuse for fishing equipment.”

Shanks paused, his eyes raking over you before he kissed your forehead, pulling you along.

“Come on, fisherwoman. Let’s get back to our vacation.”

An early dinner brought more clear eyed crew members to join you at the dingy table.

“Did your grandma leave you with any keepsakes,” Benn asked, his curiosity pulling you in, “Any strange weapons, or trinkets, or anything?”

“Um, no,” you answered, looking up as you tried to think of anything. “Just old fishing poles, and a bunch of stories I never believed.”

“A few more of those stories sounded real, you know,” he almost whispered, leaning back as Shanks leaned in.

“What do you mean?”

Benn gave a quick nod, standing to leave as Shanks let his voice tease over your ear, bringing shivers to your skin.

“It means we’re sure your grandma was a pirate. Or at least she knew one well enough to take all their stories.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Why,” he breathed against your cheek, leaving a press of lips that was barely a kiss.

“It doesn’t matter if a fisherwoman’s stories are true. It just matters that they make the time pass by faster, make the boredom of waiting less harsh. We just need something to make life bearable until we get to the next bite.”

Why do I keep doing this? I don’t want to waste my last day with him with my shitty mood. Fucking stop!

Shanks said nothing, as if he could read the ungrateful thoughts in your mind. He stood, snagging a blanket off a hammock as he led you to the sand. He led away from the camp, until the voices, and the light of the fire were gone, and he gestured for you to help him lay the blanket out.

He plopped onto his back with a low grunt, bringing a soft laugh to your lips.

“Are you gonna–”

He didn’t have to convince you. You tossed yourself back, a groan interrupting his words as you fell beside him.

Your hand found his, and the waning moon filled your life as you let its light take over.

“You really are incredible, Y/N.”

The silence of nonbelief filled your space, but you shook it away, giving him everything you could, everything you hoped he would understand.

“You saved me, Shanks.”

“Oh, so you finally admit it?”

You tore your hand from his to smack his chest, grumbling at how much his giggles made you need to kiss him.

“No, stupid! I mean…”

Words. How could you put everything into words? Everything he’d done, and the gratitude you wanted him to take with him?

“I had forgotten how to live, Shanks. Forgotten how to enjoy the life around me. You helped me remember. I’ll never forget it.”

Tears filled your throat, and there was nothing you could do to stop them. No force in this world could hold back the weight of emotion that you felt for this ridiculous pirate.

“I’m sorry,” you choked out, curling yourself against him. “I’m just going to miss you.”

Shanks said nothing for a long moment. Just held you, held his cheek against your hair while you tried to calm your breathing.

“I live a dangerous life, Y/N,” he whispered, kissing your forehead.

“I know, Shanks, it’s okay. I knew you’d have to leave,” you breathed, slow tears dripping down to his chest as you pulled him even closer. “I just wanted you to know… I wanted you to know how much these past few days have meant to me.”

You followed as he sat up, brushing your tears away. He held your jaw, tilting your face to study you.

The way Shanks looked at you always felt like a gift, and tonight it felt like treasure. You rested your hands on his face, and sent gratitude to the moon for lighting up these magical nights.

“I feel the same, Y/N.”

You couldn’t tell which would feel worse, which would make it harder. The thought that it didn’t mean much to him, and that he'd be able to sail away from you, just the same as he would from any other island.

Or the thought that he would miss you, that you would both spend nights under full moons, remembering the touch of each other’s skin, remembering everything.

How could you let him go? How could you ever move on if you knew he was out there somewhere with your name etched in his mind?

His lips met yours, and this kiss felt like the end. It felt like the world was ending, and all you could do was hang on to each other, keep that connection until you would be flung apart.

This little world you had created together, this moonlit beach filled with laughter and lust. It was coming to an end, so you tore every moment of joy you could from it, like a band playing music as the ship sinks.

“Y/N…”

“Shanks.”

Clothes were left in a pile on the sand. His clothes. His loose clothes that you’d never feel on your skin again.

He kept bringing you back, out of the painful thoughts. He always knew how to save you.

“I’m right here, sweetheart,” he rasped, trailing his lips along your neck. “You have made me so happy.”

Every touch was precious, and your eyes never parted for long.

Shanks moaned your name as his fingers reached your thighs, your body’s need for him staining the blanket beneath you.

You nodded as his eyes grew dark, and those rough, perfect fingers pressed gentle circles around your clit before entering you. You fell back onto the blanket, and that heat, the pressure in your core was so close.

Just being with Shanks gave your body so much pleasure that it took no time at all before your back was arching, and you looked up at his glowing face while he brought you.

“So beautiful,” he breathed, tracing those wet fingers along your skin, marking you with that pleasure.

“Shanks, please–”

“I’m here. I’m right here, Y/N.”

Gentle kisses covered your neck and face until his lips found yours. He kissed you now as if you had all the time in the world. His lips and tongue took their time, exploring you, bringing soft, needy noises from you both.

Finally, he rolled that heat of him onto you, his cock sliding through your wet folds. He moved his hips, getting so close as he kept his eyes on you, his arm holding him up above you.

“Help me, sweetheart.”

His husky voice made your eyes roll back before you reached down to guide him to your entrance. He hissed when you wrapped your fingers around him, and wasted no time in stretching you, molding your body to his shape.

That red hair hung loose, falling around his face as he rocked into you. Your hands clung to him, let him be your anchor.

“Look at you,” he said with a breathy smile, “my fiery damsel. You are so good for me, so perfect for me.”

“You feel so good, Shanks, you fill me–”

“I’ll fill you up, beautiful. I need to feel you again.”

He nodded down at you, eyes going frantic as he snapped his hips up.

“I need you baby, need to feel you…”

He growled as your fingers found your clit, thrusting into you as hard as he could on the blanket covered sand.

“Look at me, just like that, so good for me.”

“Shanks, I’m coming…”

Strained, primal noises left your throats, tearing through the air.

You could feel the throbbing veins of his cock as thick ropes of come filled you, painting you, claiming you.

He managed to breathe first, and you knew he was showering you with sweet words, sweet praise. You weren’t in words yet, you were just in the heat of his body, your racing heartbeats mixing together, that delicious scent of him.

You could have stayed on that blanket forever, but soon you were laughing, helping each other don sandy clothes until you found the shower again. Washing and worshiping each other before sharing more stories as you lounged on those red sheets.

It was a perfect night, and though you fought against sleep to make it last, you woke to more warm kisses, and a mind filled with stormy seas.

“Good morning, damsel,” he teased with that crooked smile.

Shanks held your hand on deck as your shitty village came into view. In your other hand, you played with that little stone in your pocket.

Something to remember him by.

This gorgeous ship docked, and you watched the crew bring your tiny useless boat down. Your stinky gear was piled within, and you laughed to yourself at the sight of the single oar.

Keep it together.

“Goodbye,” you managed to say without your lip quivering, looking up at him before heading down.

“Wait, I…”

Your breath hitched, his hand tensing around yours.

“I’m walking you home.”

He led you along, and your mind felt foggy, not quite there. Nothing felt real, and you weren’t sure if it was helping you or not.

The crew called for you as you passed, waving and yelling their goodbyes. You caught Benn staring at Shanks, shaking his head. Yassop gave you a wink, and the sounds of everyone’s cheers followed you down the dock onto the dirt trail home.

“This is it,” you announced at the door to your rickety little house, the first words either of you had spoken since stepping off the ship.

The air was thick around you. His eyes were a little wide as he stared at you, and your jaw was clenching as you tried to keep your tears at bay.

Your mind went in a vicious circle of wanting to beg him to stay, and wanting to beg him to leave already because it hurt too much.

“I’m, uh,” he cleared his throat before touching your cheek. “I’m gonna miss you, Y/N.”

The answering words choked out of your throat, high and shaky, and his smiling face fell. Those pretty eyes looked pained, his brows pulling together as he reached for you.

As he kissed you.

Another perfect kiss. Until you pulled away.

“Goodbye, Shanks.”

You wanted to shove him away as he nodded, chewing on his lip for too long.

“Goodbye, damsel.”

His soft voice almost broke you as he turned away. You couldn’t watch.

The fishy stink of your house filled your nose as you fell inside, still holding in your sobs so he wouldn’t hear your heart breaking as he walked away. There was nothing but tears, and the rocking movement of your body as you held yourself, your still bare feet shaking as you sat on the old wooden floor.

You had never felt more alone. There was no one you could even tell the story to. The story would disappear, just like he did.

Remembering the stone in your pocket, you held it in your palm until the wracking sobs began.

I wish you were here, grandma.

Grandma.

Your body moved on its own. Out the squeaky back door. Running up the dirt trail, to the little hill above the house, until you fell onto the grass, clutching that little stone in your palm. You touched your forehead to the heavy stone with your grandma’s untrustworthy name carved upon it.

“I finally lived a story, grandma.”

It spilled out from you, as if you were sitting on that boat with her, waiting for a bite. You didn’t even have to lie. It was a good story.

“I’ll never forget him,” you whispered, breath finally even, with the pressure of tears still there. But maybe… Maybe you would be okay.

“Y/N!!”

What the fuck?

“Y/N!”

That voice. His voice. You didn’t want to torture yourself. It was just your mind trying to deal with the pain.

“Damsel! Don’t hide from me, please!”

“Shanks?”

You had to clear your throat to yell his name, but you were still frozen to the spot.

“Fuck, Y/N. Where are you?”

His voice moved closer as you climbed to your feet, your legs wobbly from sitting on the ground for so long.

Waving for him, your lips parted as you watched him run up the trail. His hair was damp with sweat, and his breathing was ragged as he stood before you.

“Wha–”

“We need a fisherwoman,” he practically shouted at you.

Not a sound left your lips as you tried to figure out if you were hallucinating or not.

The hallucination reached out to hold your hand, squeezing as he caught his breath.

“You saw our stuff, we’re terrible! We need someone to fix up our gear, and help us fish in all sorts of wild waters.”

Your brows creased as you tried to focus, a headache starting to form from all the whiplash and crying.

Shanks dipped his head toward you, bouncing on his knees slightly as he continued.

“It’s okay if you don’t wanna be a pirate. You can still travel with us until we find an island you like. Somewhere you can be happy.”

Your mind was still stuck, just trying to understand the words he was saying.

He touched your cheek gently, those pretty eyes searching yours.

“I don’t…” he started, his voice rough, like he couldn’t get it out.

“I don’t wanna leave here without you.”

The chains around you broke loose, a wave of relief, and joy, and excitement rolling over you. You lunged at him, falling into a laughter-filled kiss.

“Are you sure,” you questioned, mind still fragile, afraid to lose it all again.

“I’m sure, I promise,” he breathed between those sweet kisses.

Pulling back from him, you looked into that face that you’d never forget. The joyful surprise in those eyes, the slow, crooked curving of those lips. A truly happy smile. Your new favorite.

“You know,” you teased, poking his chest, “you sounded pretty distressed there. Almost like you were the one in need of some rescuing.”

Shanks’ smile turned mischievous as he caught your hand, starting to pull you away from your old life.

“Damsel, I’m gonna be your captain now,” he threatened, the purr in his voice sending shivers over your skin. “We’re gonna have to work on your manners.”

“Good luck with that,” you said with a laugh as you followed him to the trail.

“Wait,” you cried out, pulling your hand away.

“Why? Is everything okay,” he asked, worry filling his eyes again.

“I’ve just got one more thing I need to do.”

Kissing his cheek, you ran back toward the grass.

“Hey, grandma,” you whispered as you left that little stone on her grave, winking at Shanks as he beamed at you.

“You were right. It was a good catch.”

Likes and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you so much!

a/n: Thank you for joining me on this ride! I made myself cry with this one, lol. I have now fallen in love with another fictional character. What do I do now 😭

#shanks x reader #red haired shanks #x reader #reader insert #fem!reader #one piece x reader #one piece fics #turtletaub fics #follower celebration #fic requests #mine #fluff #one piece fluff #shanks fluff #shanks fics #shanks smut #one piece smut #smut #use of y/n

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freelancearsonist · 3 months

Text

Whole

Steve Harrington x fem!Reader

Rated MA for the most long-winded poetic smut i've ever written jfc 🤦‍♀️ slow burn fluff with a couple sprinkles of angst for flavor, reader uses fem pronouns and is described as having female parts, it's dirty y'all but at least they use protection

7,470 Words

A/N: you all know my mo by now i disappear for a year and then come back and lay down some god damned PORN. this fic is no exception to the rule. @shakespeareanwannabe requested this back in july and she literally just asked for a cute moment between steve and dustin, sorry you got 6k words more than you bargained for 😂 but also thank you for betaing and the constant validation you're the best ily 🖤

Steve’s not sure how it even worked.

He can still remember the look on Robin’s face when you agreed, how she was speechless for almost ten minutes because she couldn’t process what had just happened.

Steve’s reaction was about the same as hers, in all honesty. He’s gotten so used to striking out that asking people out has become something of a game to him. He knows he’ll get a no, and he knows Robin will laugh her ass off at him. But what can he say? He likes putting a smile on his best friend’s face.

Needless to say, you’ve shaken him. In the best possible way. Because your answer was three letters instead of two.

And now, he's a little bit in over his head.

Or, to be more accurate, a lot in over his head.

It seems like it’s been ages since he’s gone on a date, even though it’s only been a few months at most. He feels lost, like he’s completely unlearned everything he ever knew about girls.

He hates it, despises it with every fiber of his own being, but he also knows it’s true; he needs advice. And although he’ll never admit it to the little shithead’s face, there’s no one better he can think of going to than his very own protege. Who better to remind him of his own prowess than the person who learned everything they know from him?

One look at Dustin’s smug little face and Steve almost regrets it. Almost.

“Just can’t stay away, can you?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Steve rolls his eyes and gives the younger boy a little shove, camouflaging it with an affectionate pat on the back. “This is strictly business, Henderson.”

“Oh, is it now?” The younger boy’s voice takes on a smug tone as he folds his fingers together and leans back in his chair. “Well then, why don’t you have a seat? Step into my office.”

Steve rolls his eyes and slides into the booth, shooting a smile and a “thank you” to the kind waitress who delivers two milkshakes to their table.

Dustin takes his time and makes a meal of unwrapping his straw, feeding off of Steve’s clear impatience Steve’s fingers tap against the table, reminding himself that patience is necessary when you come to someone for a favor. It’s just that it’s Dustin, and Dustin knows exactly how to get under the older boy’s skin in the most annoying-yet-oddly-endearing fashion.

“So…” Dustin finally says after a lengthy sip of strawberry milkshake. “What brings you so humbly to me?”

“I’ve got a date.”

And Dustin, the little bastard–he laughs. A deep, rumbling belly laugh, so pure and unfiltered that the three other occupied tables in the diner pause their conversations to get a look at the boy clutching his sides.

Steve’s a little embarrassed by the attention, but even more embarrassed that Dustin’s reaction is so genuine. The fact that the idea of him having a date is so laughable is a bit of a punch to the gut. It hasn’t really been that long, has it?

When Dustin’s laughter finally dies down he realizes Steve’s face is completely serious, and it makes him giggle even more.

“Wait, you’re actually serious? Who on earth did you manage to pull?”

Steve’s nearly bashful as he says your name, and even more bashful when Dustin’s jaw visibly drops.

“No fucking way. I’d believe anyone else, but her? She’s like… hotter than Phoebe Cates. There’s no way you wouldn’t strike out with her.”

Steve’s immediately on the defensive. Is it really so hard to believe that he, former king of Hawkins High, could pull the most gorgeous girl in town?

But that’s just it. There’s really no one like you, not in his eyes. He’s admired you since freshman year and never once even tried with you because he knew he wasn’t worthy. You were always in the background–a beautiful, kind, smart, funny girl just out of his reach. Part of the reason he even asked you out was because he was so sure he would strike out. In the end, losing his confidence was exactly what he needed to pull the girl of his dreams.

And that’s why there’s so much riding on this. You’ve always been his biggest “what if”, the girl he wonders about when thinking that maybe not trying has been holding him back. And apparently, it has.

“Look, I don’t even know how it happened, okay? But she said yes, and… and I really don’t want to blow it.”

“Well duh. You’ll have to leave town if you blow it with her, you know that, right? If she doesn’t think you’re worth it, no one else in this town ever will again.”

“That’s exactly what I’m afraid of!” Steve groans, slouching down so far in the booth that Dustin can just barely see his poor, overwhelmed face.

“Steve, listen…” Dustin’s voice takes on an almost fatherly quality, an omniscient tone that gives off the illusion of great hidden knowledge. He gets like this sometimes, and Steve’s not always sure that it is just an illusion. “Don’t let this go to your head, but you’re, like, one of the coolest guys I know. If she doesn’t like you… that’s her problem, not yours. Okay?”

Steve straightens in his seat, a little shocked to hear such kind words from a friend that he’s used to being mercilessly teased by.

“No, no, no, it’s going to your head. I take it all back. Forget I said anything.” Dustin’s hearty giggle makes Steve smile as he sets a wad of bills on the table and slides out of the booth.

“You’re not so bad Henderson, you know that?” He gives the younger boy’s full head of curls an affectionate ruffle. “Thanks, kid. I’ll radio later.”

Not that Steve didn’t have total faith in his young protege, but it’s still a relief that the pep talk turned out to be exactly what he needed to hear. Dustin’s right, after all. Steve’s worked hard to become the man he’s always wanted to be. He may not be dripping charisma or sex appeal the way he used to, but he’s much more comfortable in his own skin. That’s what counts, right?

And you really are his dream girl. The opportunity to take you out tonight, even if it ends up being your first and only date together, is an honor. He’s much less focused now on all the ways he could screw up, hyper-fixated on putting the effort in to make this the best night of your life.

That effort comes out in the carefully selected suit jacket he dons over his white button-up, the extra spritz of cologne, the careful touch-up shave to vanquish his five o’clock shadow, the extra ten minutes using the perfect amount of product in his hair so that it stays in place yet is still soft to the touch.

By the time he gets to Enzo’s (half an hour early, mind), he’s practically vibrating with nerves and anticipation. He’s never been much of an overthinker, but he sure is tonight. Is this place too much for the first date? Would you rather do something lowkey, like catch a movie or go for a walk in the park? He has to remind himself a couple of times that you agreed to this, that you wouldn’t have said yes if you weren’t interested in the arrangement.

To say he’s prepared for this is putting it lightly. He’s run through every possible scenario in his mind, gone over conversation starters and questions he wants to ask you over and over again until he knows exactly how he wants to phrase each thing.

And still, nothing could prepare him for when you walk through the door.

He has to physically restrain his jaw from dropping because in the moment he sees you, every well-planned thought and all etiquette is flushed down the proverbial pipes. You’re nothing short of breathtaking in a dress that hugs all the right curves and shows just enough cleavage to have him imagining what else there might be to see. Your hair is pinned back out of your face, eyes framed by just the slightest bit of makeup to make the color of your irises pop. He swears he’s never seen a shade quite like them. It’s like you move in slow motion as you approach him–he sees the entrance of the smoking hot love interest in every romantic comedy, complete with smoke and fireworks, as you move towards the table.

And then some sense of decorum returns to his addled brain, and he quickly shoots up so he can pull out your chair for you like a proper gentleman. He catches just the slightest whiff of your perfume, and he’s a goner. He’s ready to sign his life away to you, to yank his own heart out of his chest to offer to your careful hands.

He has to give his head a shake to compose himself before he goes any further off the deep end. No one’s ever thoroughly shaken him the way you have, and it’s been a matter of thirty seconds. It’s almost intimidating, the effect you have on him.

“You look… incredible,” he fumbles as he takes his seat across from you. “I mean, you always do, but… wow.”

The shy giggle you emit tugs at a heartstring he didn’t even know he had.

“Thank you,” you tell him with a genuine smile. “You clean up very well yourself.”

“I do like to put in some effort every once in a while.” He flashes the most charming smile he can muster, and just like that he’s back. His resolve to impress you is reinforced tenfold. You’ve shaken him, and it’s such an unfamiliar feeling that he’s practically bumbling. He wants to shake you just as badly.

The food’s delicious, and the conversation’s even better. He has a track record for taking out a more–for lack of a better term–bimbo-y type, and that’s definitely not you. You’re smart, you’re witty, but you don’t make him feel like an idiot. He’s so taken with you that he doesn’t even notice that three hours have passed until he looks around the room and notices that every table is now empty and bussed.

The waiter delivers the check, and Steve notices you gnawing on your lip.

“What’s on your mind?” He asks, trying not to be too prying.

“I don’t want this to be over yet.”

Steve smiles. He’s got you; hook, line, and sinker. He’s never been so sure of anything, and that surprises him. He’s used to dates who are easy to read and even easier to take home, and those aren’t the impressions you’ve been giving him. To know that you’re feeling exactly what he’s feeling is a huge confidence boost.

“I don’t either.”

Your hand is so small compared to his. That’s all he can think about as he strolls next to you, his fingers intertwined with yours. He’s always considered hand-holding to be child’s play, it’s never excited him before the way it does in this moment with you.

It’s pitch black in the park and he can hear the overlapping chirping of summer cicadas and grasshoppers, the perfect background noise now that the conversation has died down. It’s less about getting to know each other at this point and more just basking in each other’s presence, prolonging the inevitable because neither one of you can bear to call it a night when it’s been such a good few hours.

You’re shocked, to say the very least. Steve certainly has a reputation, and it’s not for being a romantic. Yet everything tonight has flown in the face of all the rumors you’ve been hearing since junior high. You figured he’d be a fun fling, and probably only one night at that–you’d made your peace with the idea. To find that he’s kind, considerate, funny, and can match your intellect and quick wit… it’s a very pleasant surprise. And that’s what has you out well past a decent hour, giddy over simply holding his hand like you’re a damned school girl all over again.

“I should probably let you go home,” Steve sighs wistfully. He hates to be the one to bring it up, but you’re on your fifth lap around the park and about to circle back to where your car is parked so now seems the best time.

You’re chewing your lip again, a thoughtful habit that makes his heart pound just a little bit harder.

Here’s the thing: you’re really not the bold type. You act confident, sure, but in practice it’s a lot more difficult for you. So no one’s more surprised than you are when you say, “You could come home with me. If you want.”

Steve’s definitely shocked, too. Less shocked at your proposition and more at the fact that he’s tempted to decline. Because no matter how much he’s been running through the back of his mind what you might look like under that gorgeous dress, he doesn’t want this to end there. For the first time in his life, he wants to find more meaning than sex out of a relationship. He doesn’t want to take you home and never see you again. He wants to take you out again, and again, and again, and again after that. He sees a future, for once, that doesn’t look dim and hopeless. That fact alone scares the shit out of him.

He realizes he’s waited way too long to reply and fumbles for an answer. “Of course I want to. I’d be an idiot not to. But…”

You chew that cursed bottom lip of yours again, and Steve has to focus on the obvious cue you’re giving him rather than the fact that he wants to be the next set of teeth around that lip.

He stops in his tracks, gently pulling on your hand to face him so he can take your other hand in his free one. “It’s not a bad but. I mean, I’m going to go home kicking myself for saying no because I really honestly do want to… well, y’know. But… I want to do this right with you. I want to take you out again. I want to get to know you and see where this goes. I can’t… I don’t want this to end tonight.”

He’s eternally grateful for how dark it is as he feels a flush consume his face. He can’t remember a time he’s been so honest and open, especially on a first date; but the look on your face tells him he’s done something right.

“Okay,” you tell him, squeezing his hands in yours. “You… honestly have no clue how nice it is to hear that.”

“Of course,” he continues, “if you just want me for my body, no hard feelings.”

You laugh at that, genuinely laugh, and Steve thinks it’s the best sound he’s ever heard.

“No,” you reassure him. “No, I… I wanna see where this goes, too.”

You’re stopped only a few paces from your car, and Steve knows with a twist of his gut that this is the end of the night. It makes his gut turn with disappointment, but also with anticipation of when he’ll see you next. Already, his mind is flooding with ideas of where he can take you and what you’ll do together.

You drop one of his hands so you can walk but keep a tight grip on the other until you get to your driver’s side door, hesitating outside because you’re still not ready for this to be over. It takes every ounce of restraint he has not to kiss you, unsure of if that would be moving too fast.

Thankfully, you make the call yourself. Leaning up on your toes, hands against his chest for balance, you press your lips against his and he has to summon every mite of strength not to moan. No one’s ever tasted so sweet, molded against him so perfectly. His hands drift from your shoulders down your arms, coming to rest on your waist as he pulls you just a little bit closer. It’s a fight of will not to overstep, to break off the kiss before it can become too heated. His mind is spinning by the time you break away. He’s aching for more, and he hopes you are too.

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

“Goodnight, Steve.”

Your sweet voice replays in his mind all night, long after you’ve gotten into your car and driven away, long after he’s returned to his own vehicle and pulled the radio out from under the driver’s seat to check in with Dustin, long after he arrives home and soaks in a cold shower for longer than he probably should. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get your voice out of his head, and he couldn’t be any less upset about it.

He practically counts down the minutes until he sees you again. This time, he has a little less restraint. He greets you with a kiss–a sweet peck and a hand on your waist that leaves you aching for even more.

It’s a movie this time, a chance to enjoy each other’s company on a night you’re both too tired from working to engage in heavy conversation and getting to know each other further.

It starts with sharing popcorn, then holding hands, then somewhere along the way the film is completely forgotten in favor of your lips meeting his. His breath grows heavy as his hands hold your face, committing you to memory while resisting the urge to explore further. Your hands, meanwhile, are firmly on his thighs, gripping tightly to keep yourself steady as you do everything you can to keep yourself from crawling into his lap.

He whispers your name, and your grip on him tightens.

“W-we shouldn’t…” he murmurs, then gives up on the futile attempt at finishing his sentence so that he can pull you even deeper into the kiss as his tongue sweeps across your bottom lip.

It takes everything in him not to moan when your lips eagerly part to accept him.

Needless to say, once the credits start rolling you’re both more than a little hot under the collar.

“Let me buy you dinner,” Steve suggests as he woefully unwinds himself from you. Declining doesn’t even flicker through your mind as a possibility.

It’s not Enzo’s this time, but it doesn’t have to be. He could set a soggy peanut butter and jelly sandwich in front of you at this point and you’d still thank him for it. This time around, you’re not really as interested in the cuisine as you are just simply getting through this meal to what’s next. Because what’s next is all you’ve been thinking about since you walked through the doors the night of that very first date and saw Steve Harrington wearing a blazer for you. It’s a level of effort he’s definitely not known for–in fact, he’s built a reputation for putting in so little effort that it nearly made your jaw drop to see him trying. And it certainly made your heart skip a beat.

But then again, the Steve before you carelessly wolfing down his bacon cheeseburger seems very different from the Steve you knew in high school, even if you didn’t know that iteration as intimately as this one. That one was cool, collected, snarky and pompous and maddeningly desirable.

This Steve, your Steve, is nearly an exact foil. Much less cocky, a little less confident but more self-assured in the ways that actually hold meaning, less worried about what the people around him are observing of him than what you’re observing of him. He seems happier, more carefree, more eager to please others than simply himself. He’s grown so much in such a short amount of time, and you feel proud just for having the honor to witness it. Significantly more proud to be on the receiving end of his affections now that they hold the kind of value you’ve always wished they would.

He looks up and notices you staring at him while lost in thought, a small smile spreading across his lips as your eyes quickly dart away.

“What’s on your mind?” He questions as he licks a stray bit of ketchup from his thumb.

“Just… happy I’m here. With you.” It brings heat to your cheeks to admit it, but you don’t want him to go unappreciated in this moment.

It’s the right thing to say, because his smile grows even wider. “I’m happy too,” he admits. “I… I’ve wanted to ask you out for a while. Could never work up the courage, I guess.”

“Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington was intimidated by me?” You say it with a mock gasp, but your shock is more genuine than you give off. Never in a million years would you have thought that he, the man who could have whoever he wanted, would be worried over you saying no to him. It’s almost comical, especially considering the way you practically threw yourself at him on your first date. Of course then, you had no clue how much he’d developed as a person. You’re almost ashamed of your behavior now, as if you might’ve inadvertently been taking advantage of the new and improved Steve who isn’t just into you for a hookup.

He shrugs, nearly bashful at your teasing. “Never figured I was good enough for you. So I didn’t bother to try.”

You’re genuinely curious now, leaning in a little closer and brushing your fingers against his hand resting atop the diner counter. “What made you change your mind?”

“Honestly? I was so sure you’d say no that I asked just to give Robin a chuckle. She loves watching me get shot down.”

That makes you frown, and he’s quick to backtrack. “I wanted to! I just… I’ve had a bad track record lately. And you’re… you’re you. You’re the last person I should be worthy of.”

His eyes are quick to avert from your gaze, bottom lip tugged between his teeth as he contemplates whether he’s said too much.

“Steve…” you properly grab his hand now in the hopes that it’ll bring his eyes back to you, and it works. “You’re the only person I’ve deemed worthy in a long time, honestly.”

Steve Harrington is scaldingly warm. It’s one of many sensations forcing your mind into overdrive as he lays you delicately across the backseat of his beemer, one hand cushioning the back of your head while simultaneously deepening the already heated kiss and the other balancing his weight to lean over you in the cramped space without completely crushing you.

Your fingers tangle themselves into his soft brown locks, tugging ever-so-slightly as his tongue slips between your parted lips. He’s an eager explorer and you’re more than happy to let him take the lead, to show you all the skill you’ve heard so many whispers about.

You let out an involuntary moan as he wedges himself even closer to you, his body heat soaking through all the layers of clothing between the two of you and warming you all the way to your very bones.

You’re practically aching, ready to beg, and he knows it the second you wrap your legs around his waist in an attempt to get him even closer. If there’s one thing Steve Harrington’s good at, it’s assessing your needs. He pulls away just the slightest bit to adjust his position so he can get closer, wedging a knee between your legs to press right against your core, and it makes you jolt back against the car door at the same time his head hits the roof just a bit too hard.

You both pause for a moment, the reality of your situation hitting you simultaneously, and then you’re laughing. It’s light and edged with unresolved want, but it’s enough to fracture the tension of the moment.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “Shouldn’t have gotten so carried away. This isn’t how I want to do this.”

“No?”

“No. You deserve way better than this old beater,” he chuckles, then leans down to kiss you. This kiss is lighter, no longer edged with tension and lust. He kisses you just to kiss you–there’s no end goal to it this time.

“What could be better than a BMW?” You tease lightly, trying to reassure him that you’re less disappointed than you really feel.

“You know. Something romantic. A proper bed, rose petals, maybe a few candles…”

“I don’t need all that,” you try to tell him.

“I think I do,” he admits. And that’s enough to pull you back, to remind you that you need to be patient and grateful that he values you so much as to want to do this whole thing properly. That his affection is something to be cherished, not taken for granted.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I didn’t mean to be pushy.”

“Please don’t apologize.” He hesitates to untangle himself from you, even though he knows he needs to. “I want this just as bad. I just… I need it to be right.”

“As long as I have you, it’ll be right,” you reassure. “I hope you know that.”

He presses his lips to yours again, a slow and passionate kiss that he hopes communicates every bit of adoration he feels for you in this moment.

“It’ll be perfect. I swear,” he vows. You’ve never believed anything more whole-heartedly than you do this promise.

~~~

“Wait, you’re telling me that you literally had her under you and you stopped?” Robin’s halfway through chewing a mouthful of popcorn and the absolute carnage inside her agape mouth makes Steve give her a light shove.

“It’s not polite to talk with your mouth full, y’know.”

“It’s not polite to blue-ball either!” She shoots back in utter disbelief.

“How do you think I felt? I was this close,” he holds his thumb and index finger barely millimeters apart, “to sealing the deal.”

She just shakes her head. “You, Steve Harrington, are a genuine, bonafide idiot.”

She’s not telling him anything he doesn’t know. It’s been three days since the aborted fling in the backseat of his car, and he’s barely thought of anything else. Especially since you’ve been away from home both of the past nights when he’s called. He’s starting to worry you’ve gotten the wrong impression, that he’s not interested or that he’s toying with you. It’s the exact opposite. He wants nothing more than to know you in the most intimate way he can know you. But he needs it to be flawless. He needs it to be well thought-out and precisely planned, the most romantic event in the history of copulation. He won’t settle for anything less, not with you. You deserve perfection, and he won’t give you anything less.

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” he tries to explain. “I want to more than anything. But if you’re gonna go to town on a goddess, you need to do some worshiping, y’know? I don’t feel like I’ve done enough.”

Your heart pounds in your chest as you hear this admission. You weren’t sure what to expect–worried that maybe visiting him at work was an overstep–but hearing him call you a goddess certainly wasn’t on your radar.

“You’ve done more than enough, Steve.”

The sound of your voice makes Steve jump and whirl around, oblivious to Robin’s sly smirk and mumbled excuse of needing to attend to something in the back room.

“H-hey!” He squeaks, then clears his throat in an attempt to get his tone back to its normal octave. “What… what’re you doing here?”

“Oh, just came to pick up a tape,” you tease. “But mostly I came to see you.”

“Me?” He takes a moment to ground himself, loosening his too-tight grip on the counter. “I mean… I tried to call you last night. And the night before?”

Your brow furrows. “Really? I didn’t get your message.”

Because he didn’t leave one. He clears his throat and says, “I just figured you were busy.”

“Oh, well, I volunteer at the animal shelter on Wednesdays, and last night was my friend’s 21st birthday. I’m sorry I missed you, though.”

He can tell that you’re really remorseful, and it makes his heart squeeze in his chest a little bit. He plays it off with a dismissive wave of his hand. “No, it’s fine, it’s… are you free tonight?”

You giggle at the abrupt redirect, but he’s played directly into your hand.

“Yeah, actually. I was hoping maybe you could help me pick out something for us to watch tonight? If you’re free too, that is.”

His dark eyes blink slowly, wondering if you’re aware of the implication behind your completely innocent words. You. Him. A movie. Alone. It’s enough to make his head spin.

“I’ve never been freer.”

Conveniently, you’ve come in close enough to the end of his shift that by the time you’re done combing through Family Video’s vast selection for the perfect film to use as background noise, Steve’s ready to clock out. And since you walked over after finishing your own shift at the local dollar store up the street, it works out perfectly that he can give you a ride straight to his place.

You only glance in the backseat once, but it’s enough to get your mind churning. Remembering the feeling of him, of what could’ve been. Anticipating what will be.

“Parents home?” You ask as he pulls into his driveway and parks, trying to sound casual and utterly failing.

“Nope,” he answers easily. “Took a detour to Cabo on their way home from Hawaii.”

“Sounds glamorous. You opted out?”

“I’d rather be here in Hawkins with you than on a beach alone anyday.”

He must know the effect his words have on you. Surely he can hear the way your heart picks up pace as he looks at you with those dark, affectionate eyes.

“So… this is home.” He waves a hand around the entrance hall like it’s a shabby nightmare, not the grandest house you’ve ever been in.

“I’m starting to understand why they used to call you King Steve.”

He’s almost embarrassed at the mention of that old high school nickname. “Trust me, this isn’t why.”

“Well, a palace does befit you,” you tell him with a smirk.

“Stop, you’re gonna make me blush.” The wink he shoots you makes your gut erupt with butterflies, a sensation that would normally make you a little uncomfortable. With Steve, you’d take the butterflies all day long.

He gives you a cursory and oversimplified tour of the ground floor before leading you upstairs, and suddenly he’s sheepish. It’s been a few moons since he shared his room with a girl, so the nerves are justified. But that’s too simple an explanation. You’re not a girl. You’re his dream, his muse, his–to re-quote himself–goddess. No one he’s ever cared about more has stood where you’re standing, and it terrifies him.

He hides it well, though, busying himself with making a comfortable nest for you in his bed before setting up the television set on the dresser against the far wall. If ever there was a time to regain his confidence, it’s now. He curses whatever god there is that he feels like a fumbling virgin in this moment when nothing is even happening, when just the anticipation is enough to make his hands tremble.

There’s no more stalling once you’re comfortable and the tape is set to play. His heart pounds to the steady and frantic rhythm of one of those heavy rock songs Dustin listens to now as he sits next to you, hands itching to take a hold of you but also eager not to move too fast.

Almost as if you can sense his hesitation, you reach over and take his hand. “Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“Kiss me.”

And so he does, and the second his lips slot to yours all the worry and anxiety is gone. He’s Steve Harrington, and he knows what he’s doing. You’re you, and he’s wanted this for so long. After years of being lost, he deserves to finally find the love he’s been looking for. He’s never been so sure of anything as he is, in this moment of initial clarity, that he’s in love with you.

He can’t say it, not yet. He’s sure it’s too soon, and the last thing he wants is to scare you off. But he’s determined to prove it to you, and the only way besides words is action.

He can handle action.

There’s no more restraint or hesitation behind his touch. This is it, this is what you’ve both been waiting for. There’s no way in hell he’s not going to deliver now. He’s desperate for you, and it shows in the heavy way his hands drag along your curves whilst committing you to memory; the way his tongue languidly swipes across your bottom lip; the way he shifts effortlessly to hover over you even while deepening the kiss.

He’s overwhelming every single sense of yours in such a sudden fashion, and you wouldn’t want it any other way. Especially not when his hips meet yours in a deliciously slow grind and you finally get your first little taste of what’s to come.

He keens at the little breathless whimpers that leave your mouth, reading every single signal you provide him with and accommodating each. Moaning? He continues what he’s doing, intensifying if deemed necessary. Whining? He adds something, because he knows it’s hard to use your words when you’re wanting so badly. Squirming? He pays attention to the direction of your movement and pulls away or presses closer depending on necessity. It’s down to science for him; he only really cared about extracurriculars in school anyway, and this was certainly his favorite.

But then he comes to his senses–while he doesn’t pull away completely, he needs to clear his mind and he does so by letting up a bit, allowing the kiss to become languid and the heat to extinguish a bit. It only makes you whine more, and Steve curses his damned formula. You shouldn’t be part of an equation. You’re everything he’s ever wanted, and every aspect of your relationship so far has been a new experience for him. He needs this particular activity to be different too. No formulas or calculations. Just you and him and whatever happens naturally.

Clearly you can hear the cogs in his mind turning. You pull away with a concerned look on your face and ask, “what’s on your mind?”

Now’s not the time to hide anything from you, he reasons with himself. He wants to be authentic with you, and part of that means telling the truth, even if it’s not something particularly comfortable.

“I’m… falling into a routine. And I don’t want to,” he admits. He sighs and leans back, one hand dragging through his shaggy and disheveled hair, sure that he’s going to ruin the mood if he carries on like this. But he refuses to back away from the truth now. “This… it’s always been like…. Like a series of checkpoints. Boxes to check, y’know? Kiss you, take your clothes off, make you come, fuck you, say goodnight. And I don’t want… I can’t let it be like that with you. I need this to be… real. Not just some list to cross shit off of. I don’t–”

Steve takes a long, shaky breath before he can ramble on anymore. Never has someone so thoroughly gotten under his skin. He’s never felt so insecure, so unsure. It’s terrifying. The most terrifying part of it all, though, is that he likes it. He loves the feeling of the unfamiliarity, of doing this right. In a way, it’s almost like he’s doing all of this for the first time all over again. You’re his first date, first kiss, first time. All because he’s changed so drastically, because he’s not even remotely the same person he was just a year or two ago.

Your hands are so gentle as you cup his face, tenderly forcing his eyes to meet yours.

“Steve… we don’t have to do this, not if you’re not ready. I want to be with you, not just for this, but for everything. Everything that comes with you… that’s what I want. There’s no pressure. I would wait a hundred years for you to be ready so long as I could still have you.”

Steve’s breath shakes a little as he comprehends the gravity of your words. There’s nothing he can say that can properly convey the gratitude he holds for your words, so he says nothing at all.

In his silence, you continue. “You’re more than a body, you know that, right? You’re funny, and kind, and smart. Yes, smart, don’t look at me like that. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted to be close to. I just… I want to spend time with you. I want to watch stupid movies and eat diner food until we get sick and laugh at your stupid jokes… and maybe make love with you, sure, but that’s pretty low on the list as long as I just get to be with you.”

He doesn’t notice the tears until it’s too late–by the time you’re wiping them from the apples of his cheeks it’s far too late to take them back or hide them. With anyone else, he would be angry; at himself, for allowing himself to be so vulnerable. For allowing himself to be so emotional. With you, though… with you, his emotions make him feel strong.

For the first time since you walked into his life, he’s not scared of losing you.

“I love you,” he tells you. His voice is firm, as fierce as the kiss he presses to your mouth, as powerful as the waves of emotion vibrating through his very soul. “I love you so much.”

He barely gives you a chance to reply, as keen as he is on physically proving his love to you through myriad passionate kisses that leave you breathless. But when you finally get the chance to use your voice after a barrage of kisses that start to trail down your neck, you whisper, “I love you too.”

Four words, and they’re all he needs to quell every worry or fear he’s had over doing this relationship properly with you. Why should he have to worry, after all, when he’s already succeeded?

“I love you,” he whispers as he trails down your neck and to your chest, leaving tender love bites on the tops of your breasts once he’s properly liberated you from your shirt.

“I love you,” he mumbles through sucking a mark a few inches north of your navel.

“I love you,” he murmurs when his lips meet your waistband. His fingers make quick work of your pants as he scatters kisses over your stomach, unable to part his mouth from your skin for even a moment.

“I love you,” he affirms as his mouth meets your hot and waiting core.

There’s no more checklist. Because this isn’t simply sex, as it always has been for him in the past. This is love-making: the kind of sappy shit they talk about in all those Hallmark movies that he rolls his eyes at the sight of. It’s like losing his virginity all over again.

He understands the old adage of “the other half” now. You’ve ripped him to shreds and sewed him back together with strands of yourself. The end result is better than the original ever could’ve even dreamed to be. He’s sure he couldn’t possibly live without you now, that losing you would be like ripping out fresh and unhealed stitches.

You’re not sure how long he camps out between your trembling thighs, but it’s long enough for you to lose count of the number of times he pulls you apart–first with his languid tongue; then his long, curved fingers; then a combination of the two. It’s like he loses himself completely in your pleasure, not a single thought in his head except what he can do to bring you to the edge again, and again, and again.

You’re trembling with oversensitivity by the time his own needs overtakes his desperation to unravel you. So out of it that you feel drunk, like Steve’s laced you with absolute bliss so pure you can barely stand it.

You’re hardly present enough to appreciate the adonis before you when he finally undoes his own jeans, and that’s a damned shame because he’s so damned pretty. Long and thick, flushed at the girthy tip from his hitherto unacknowledged arousal. His lean thighs are pure muscle, and the dark thatch of hair that trails south from his navel makes your mouth water. He’s everything you dreamed he’d be and so much more.

“Steve…” You don’t know what else you can possibly say. All you can do is vainly hope that one whine of his name can convey all of the heat, frustration, tension, and above all longing, swirling through your head in the moment.

He breaks from his lustful reverie for a moment to smile as he leans in for another heated kiss; you think it’s safe to say you’ve gotten your point across.

He slows from his mania for a few moments, lips tender as they explore against yours once more. These kisses are languid, slow, yet no less heated. Even now, he’s trying to prove his love to you. As if you could somehow not believe him after everything that’s happened, every small moment you’ve spent with him witnessing how hard he’s trying for you.

Somewhere in between kisses he manages to wrestle a condom out of his nightstand, miraculously without ever breaking from your lips.

Now is where you cut in, finally fading out of your over-pleasured fugue and back to reality. You take the little foil packet from his hands and tear it open, eager for this small chance to finally get a hand or two on him.

He lets out the most gorgeous noise you’ve ever heard as you roll the rubber down his length; a deep, earthy, diaphragmatic moan just from the simple touch of your hand. You want to touch him even more, to wrest out more of those sounds from him; to see what other undiscovered responses you can pull from him as you pleasure him. But you know that now, he needs to set the pace. He believes he has something to prove, and you’re more than happy to let him prove it. There will be plenty of other opportunities to have him completely at your mercy, anyway.

There’s no way to describe the feeling as he slides into you. It’s more than bliss, more than euphoria, more than earth-shattering toe-curling mind-altering pleasure. It’s nothing more than feeling whole. Of never knowing you were missing a part of yourself until it’s suddenly returned to you. Of never knowing what home felt like until this exact moment.

Maybe it’s overdramatic. Maybe it’s outlandish and outrageous and a million other adjectives to feel something so overpowering and overwhelming from such a seemingly simple physical act. But in this moment, you know you’ve never felt anything as right as being connected to Steve in this way.

His lips hardly leave yours while he rolls his hips against you, easily finding the perfect angle to make your breath hitch and your hands scrabble for purpose.

It admittedly doesn’t last long, but it doesn’t have to. Once you start to tighten and pulse around him, he’s a goner–deep purposeful thrusts turning to hard, arrhythmic plunges in desperate search of release.

You’re still shaking from your high when he slowly pulls out of you. He keeps you close, arms linked around your waist and dragging you to lay on his chest as he flops back against the pillows.

You’re not sure how long you lay like that, with Steve whispering sweet nothings into your hair and pressing absentminded kisses to your face. All you can really focus on is one all-consuming, life-changing fact.

“I love you, Steve Harrington.”

“I love you too,” he whispers back. He kisses you again, just a simple peck on your lips, and you know that he’s telling the truth. It’s an eternal truth: one that can’t be changed or altered in any way. Steve Harrington loves you with every fibre of his being, and he will for the rest of his life–even if you’re both blissfully unaware of it for now.

THE END

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#cece writes #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things smut

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callmegaith · 9 months

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The only thing ineffable bureaucracy showed me is how hyper focused this fanbase is at seeing one thing and one thing only and everything else is a result of that one thing

1) no, Beelzebub and Gabriel are not a straight couple. Nor is Crowley and Aziraphale a gay couple. Stop the non-binary erasure or go outside and talk to an actual non-binary person cuz clearly you have no clue what non-binary is "they're straight presenting" wtf? If you think that please give me your name so I can block you. Cis people, I fucking swear.

Reminder that Beelz used they/them pronouns btw. Sorry that Beelzebub doesn't "pass" for you, it doesn't make them any less non-binary. Not to mention it was stated and already IS CANON that none of them have genders. They're god damn demons and angels, bruh.

2) "it's Gabriel's and Beelz's fault that ineffable husbands didn't get their happy ending": no. It's their own damn fault for not communicating and Aziraphale's inability to accept Crowley as he is. Gabriel and Beelzebub put each other first. Y'all sound salty as hell cuz two people managed to work their relationship out and yours didn't work out. "But if they didn't get together---" y'all really saying shit like this??? Do you hear yourself? That's so sad. Wishing for the doom of one LGBTQ+ ship cuz the other fucked themselves over. THEY CAN BOTH CO-EXIST. And you know what? They will. Cuz Ineffable husbands is clearly canon, the story just wants time with them cuz they're the main characters, not like Beelz and Gabriel who were side characters so had their story summarized.

3) "that should have been ineffable husbands" no, cuz Crowley and Aziraphale aren't Gabriel and Beelzebub. They're different characters with different backgrounds, personalities, relationship structure, and different relationship dynamic in general. They'll get together in a way that fits THEM. And that way requires ups and downs that makes them finally understand that they're perfect for each other without the need for either of them to change.

4) Gabriel was such an asshole wish Crowley got his revenge and--- bla bla BLA : Crowley was happy for them. You hold a grudge over Gabriel that Crowley himself doesn't. Y'all worse than a literal demon. Smh.

Be happy for what we got and look forward to the future where ineffable husbands will certainly become canon and it'll be worth the wait. Don't tear down the LGBTQ+ presentation we got just cuz the main ship didn't get the limelight THIS TIME.

Let things cook, that's how writing WORKS.

But I'm just an Agender demi person and tbh? I would prefer if things took their time.

I love both ships a lot but I'm not gonna hold pitchforks over one ship getting a happy end and one still developing. Come next season, that happy end for Gaberiel and Beelzebub might not last. We DONT KNOW. Do we really need to sacrifice one for the other? Why can't we be happy to have both?

Just really think the vibe of the fanbase rn fuckin SUCKS and I'm not enjoying trying to go through the ineffable bureaucracy tag and seeing people complaining about how it should have been ineffable husbands or how it's their fault.

Okay? Alright.

After this imma start blocking ppl I swear. Just had to throw in my two cents.

#good omens #ineffable husbands #ineffable bureaucracy

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rottingparts · 11 months

Text

Opportunity

[Mirage x Fem!Reader x Noah]

Summary: Given the opportunity, you'd definitely find out what it's like to be with a Cybertronian. Luckily for you, your crush happens to know a really cool one.

Warnings: SMUT! 18+! MINORS DNI! Being suspended in air, oral (fem receiving), Mirage standing there ominously as you make out with Noah, basically PWP

Word Count: 2k

A/N: This is written with she/her pronouns. I promise, I will post more than Mirage my brain is rotting right now it's horrendous. If y'all like this, I can definitely post a way, way spicier one later! Noah/Mirage is so phenomenal and I want to sandwich myself between them!! -Rot

You lied on your bed, eyes wide open and breathing heavily. You needed to calm down but Mirage plagued your mind. You were unsure on what his and Noah’s relationship was, just because of how flirty Mirage had been with you. He was also flirty with Noah. And Noah was… Noah.

Your eyes shut tight and the only thing you could think of was Mirage winking at you the day before. He winked at everyone, but… The way he winked at you specifically had you weak in the knees.

“C’mon,” You whispered to no one but yourself. You were at war with your own mind. You did have the biggest crush on Noah, then Mirage came barreling into your life. You were sure you liked the both of them, but Mirage just happened to give you more attention than your friend.

You could hear your phone ringing and you groaned. You were pulled from your woes and stood up grumbling. You hurried to the kitchen and picked up the phone. Your fingers played with the phone cord.

“Hello?”

“Hey,” Noah answered. Your heart jumped. “Can you come to the garage?”

Your eyes narrowed, looking dead ahead at the wall, “Why?”

“Just come on!” Mirage’s voice rang over the phone.

“Okay.”

They line clicked, he had hung up. You scrunched your face, wondering if that enthusiasm was going to come back to bite you in the ass. You ignored that feeling and hurriedly got dressed. It was close to midnight and you weren’t even questioning why your friend and his potential boyfriend had invited you to a garage.

You had never walked so fast in your life. But once you reached the garage, you grew anxious. You raised your hand to knock and the door swung open. “Come in!” Mirage’s head was poking out. You hurried in when you heard Noah yell for Mirage to get his ass back inside.

“Do you mind locking that?” Mirage asked nonchalantly. You looked at him with wide eyes, prey caught in headlights. “Oh! Not in a weird way. We don't need anyone walking in and seeing me!”

You nodded slowly, turned and locked the door. When you turned back around Noah leaned against a toolbox and Mirage stood close to him. Mirage looked excited, chomping at the bit. You couldn’t tell if it made you more or less comfortable.

“Noah…” You swallowed hard, taking a small step further into the garage. “It’s kinda late, I’m assuming what you needed was important?”

“Oh,” Mirage smirked, “now you’re worried if it’s important. You seemed awfully excited to come down here when I asked you~”

“Mirage.” Noah nudged him. He looked back at you and his facial features softened, “Look, Mirage-”

“And Noah-”

“And me…” Noah looked ready to fight the Autobot. “We were wondering-” Noah suddenly seemed at a loss for words. Mirage nudged him and Noah looked up at him with an anger that was palpable.

“Buddy,” Mirage grew tired of the waiting, “Just ask-”

“I don’t want this to be weird!” If looks could kill, Mirage's spark would have stopped.

“Fine,” Mirage stepped away from Noah, and towards you. Noah’s face dropped and he was sent into overdrive, short circuiting it would seem. Mirage kneeled down once he reached you and smiled widely, “Noah and I wanna know how you feel about us?”

The sound of you gulping could be heard across the garage. “I don’t know- I mean, I don’t know what you two are, but I’m not judging. In fact,” You put your hands up, and you looked at Noah “I, too, would jump at the chance to have a Cybertronian, uh, significant other…” You ended it as a question. You did not want to assume what they were doing, but you needed to get the point across.

“That’s not what he meant-”

“Oh! You would?!” Mirage lit up, “How about two ‘significant others’?” He put air quotes around the end of the sentence. You could feel Noah cringing. “A Cybertronian and a human?” One his optic ridges rose and he inched closer to you.

“Mirage, what happened to being subtle?” Noah sighed.

“Like, you two?” You pointed at Noah and Mirage. “Because I’m assuming you don’t mean Bee-”

“No!” Mirage almost yelled. “No. Not Bee. Me! And him.” He pointed at Noah. You nodded and took everything in.

“You don’t have to.” Noah jumped in. “I don’t wanna ruin our friendship. And this is getting weird thanks to my car.” Noah did everything but roll his eyes. Mirage looked upset by Noah saying that. But looked back at you when you started to talk.

“Okay.”

Noah froze. Mirage threw his fist up and almost hit the ceiling. You snorted at the reaction. Noah stepped forward and gave you a confused and baffled look.

“Okay?” He cocked his head, “You’re okay with this?”

Your enthusiastic nod helped calm him, but he was still visibly confused. “Yeah!” You nodded again, a little faster, “I mean, I’ve liked you for awhile now, but never said anything because Mirage seemed to like you- And I couldn’t really tell if you liked me back-”

“You humans are so cute!” Mirage laughed at the sight before him, “Noah doesn’t shut up about you. Even if he has been inside of me, he still thinks about being inside-”

Noah almost screamed. “Mirage, shut it!” Mirage snorted and focused back on you. They were both focused on you. “What now?”

“We just see where it goes!” You smiled at the two of them, shrugging nonchalantly. “Do you mind if I stay here with the two of you, though? I don’t feel like sleeping now.”

“Of course,” Noah nodded, “I mean, I don’t mind. Please, feel free to stay.”

Noah, being your friend, already knew a good bit about you, but Mirage didn’t. So, you sat with them and told Mirage about yourself. Just the littlest of things seemed to intrigue him. He and Noah both looked at you with such fascination.

You locked eyes with Noah, and words stopped forming. Your heart fluttered and you blinked at him. You were going to ask him what he was doing but you didn’t get the chance. Noah pressed his lips to yours, his left hand gently cupping your face. Noah, without thinking, pulled back fast. You were stunned.

“Why’d you stop?” Your voice was soft, as if you were afraid of being caught. As if Mirage literally was not sitting there watching.

Noah’s eyes widened. He didn’t think this far ahead. Mirage grew antsy. “Kiss her again, or I’ll kiss her for you.”

Noah almost launched himself at you. Both of his hands cupped your face and his lips were on yours in seconds. You were almost knocked off the table you were sitting on. Noah’s lips were soft, and while he was excited to finally be kissing you, he wasn’t sloppy about it. You were eager for more, so your lips parted, letting his tongue slip in.

Without thinking, you opened your legs, and Noah scooted himself between your thighs. Your arms wrapped around his neck and the both of you were as close to each other as you could possibly be.

“I want to kiss (Y/N) too!” Mirage was bursting at the seams.

You remembered he was there as Noah pulled away from you. You looked at Mirage and back at Noah. “Are you both sure this is okay? I don’t wanna overstep-”

“Yes!” They both smiled. Mirage, crouching down in front of you, kept talking, “If you’re alright with it of course.”

You nodded at him. Mirage was inches from you now, your eyes half lidded and his optics watching you intently. “You can kiss me.” The words left your mouth and Mirage’s lips met yours. He was focused, his kiss was not as fervent as Noah’s, and was a lot more gentle. He knew he could not get reckless. He did not want to hurt you.

Your hands cupped the mech’s cool face and you ran your tongue across his bottom lip, effectively deepening the kiss. Mirage was making out with you and it was Noah’s turn to watch. He was growing impatient.

“Mirage, you aren’t even that gentle with me!”

Mirage pulled away from you and your hands fell to your sides, resting on the table. Noah looked at Mirage with furrowed brows and you smiled. Mirage rolled his optics and sighed, “I don’t want to hurt her…” Noah looked like he was about to argue, “Look, buddy,” Mirage started in on him, “You’ve been inside of me! We know each other! (Y/N) has yet to experience that, we are still getting to know each other-”

“Whatever-”

“Stop arguing, I’m not going anywhere, both of you have ample time to do whatever you want.”

That got their attention. “Whatever we want?”

“Well, yeah. I’ve liked Noah for a while, and I’ve never been with a Cybertronian before… So, really, I’m up for whatever. I’m curious as to… How this works.”

That was exactly everything they wanted to hear. The night was about to get better, for everyone involved.

-_-_-_-_-

Mirage had you in his servos, dangling above the ground. His grip was strong, you were not going anywhere without him being aware of it. His lips pressed to yours and you were a moaning mess.

Noah’s lips were pressed to your inner thigh giving gentle kisses up towards the heat between your legs. He was using Mirage holding you up to his advantage. His teeth scraped the soft skin and you whimpered.

You were naked in Mirage’s servos. Completely bare and vulnerable. And excited. Your breathing was ragged and your body was limp, letting both Noah and Mirage do whatever they wanted. You trusted them. Noah and Mirage both seemed very capable of whatever it was they were achieving. Your brain was too foggy to fully comprehend their plan. You were just along for the ride.

Noah’s lips met your folds and his tongue was quick to lick a stripe up your pussy. Your hips jerked slightly and you felt Noah smile against you. His hands were holding your hips, his fingers potentially bruising you. Mirage however, was not bruising you. He was being gentle and you almost wanted him to be a little more rough.

“So good,” Mirage pulled back and your head fell back, a soft moan falling from slightly parted lips. “So good for us,” Mirage praised you, causing you to squirm.

“Please,” You started to beg, “Noah,” Your hands grabbed for whatever they could hold and that was Mirage. “I wanna cum-”

Noah did not respond with any words, instead he smiled again and you felt a finger push inside of you as his tongue circled your clit. Mirage’s mouth collided with your neck and lied there, the feeling of being held in the air still a weird one to you. Your legs dangled, but only slightly, as Noah held on to them like a lifeline.

Once another finger pushed inside of you, your eyes were rolling. Noah knew what he was doing. You wished you had come to him sooner. The sound of him eating you out like his life depended on it was heard throughout the garage. You really, really hoped Reek was not coming back for the night.

Your body tensed, a knot forming in your stomach and your toes started to curl. A loud cry for Noah left your lips and your hips bucked. Noah kept on going. As you rode the wave of pleasure Noah started to slow down.

Once he pulled back from you, you were left a mess in Mirage’s grasp. He looked down at you, examining you closely. You looked up at Mirage through half lidded eyes and smiled, “What?”

“I need you to moan my name like that.”

“Hm,” You bit the inside of your lip, “you two aren’t done yet, are you? I have plenty of time to moan your name.” Your brows furrowed and you gave him a serious look.

“Not after that look we’re not.”

#valveplug #transformers smut #noah diaz #mirage smut #mirage #mirage x reader #noah x reader x mirage #mirage x reader x noah #noah diaz x reader #rotb noah #rotb mirage

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madwomansapologist · 1 month

Note

Could I request a one shot where Karlach, Rolan, and Zevlor finding out that human Tav is surprisingly similar to them despite being quite different?

For Karlach, she's outgoing & boisterous while Tav is shy & quiet. But Tav told Karlach she appreciates her kindness considering what she has went through as she can understand how hard it is & to remain hopeful even during the darkest times since Tav needs to be the one leading them & stay strong for all of them. She also mentioned she has a similar problem that she's touch starved but her family isn't so she never got to hug or kiss her family so she offered to squeeze Karlach as hard as she can while hugging her.

For Rolan, he's prickly & harsh while she's polite & soft spoken. Tav told Rolan she can understand why he's so protective of his siblings because Tav lost her family when she was too young to save them from her burning home. She also understands how it feels to not be good enough so she keeps trying to help to be as useful as she can to others to compensate her flaws & weaknesses although she does want to help people.

For Zevlor, he's stern & intimidating while Tav looks harmless & approachable. She told Zevlor that she's in a similar position as she never wanted to be a leader as she never thought she's meant to be one but she admits it was her decision & it didn't help that she felt that it's best she leads because she's the only one who would make such choices & they unexpectedly listened to her despite her inexperience. Unlike him where he didn't have much of a choice due to having experience. She also understands wanting a quiet life without judgement as she was discriminated by her fellow humans but life doesn't work that way.

so different, and yet so similar

Navigation | More Tiefs4Life | AO3

synopsis: Don't matter how different you're from them, there is still little things that connect you two. Kindred spirits, even if it doesn't look like.

warnings: nothing.

note: thanks for your request, hope you like it! maybe it's because english is not my first language but i think the expression "touch starved" is so pathetic. please stop creating new nouns, focus on pronouns because y'all have such a little ammount of them 🙏🥺

Karlach

For Karlach, you where so put together. Everything was in the right place, every movement was the one you needed, every word had a purpose. You led the party with caution, always aware of the dangers lurking by.

No music would ever matter without a listener. What is dancer without a watcher? A book is just paper until someone reads it. Some people need to performe, and some people need to observe. And while Karlach burns brighter than the sun, you watch the sparks flying.

So completely different. In situations Karlach yells, you shut. While she runs, you stand still. When people talk, you are way more comfortable just listening. And still, you both are so similar.

Karlach knows how fierceless you can become to make sure your party will keep on enduring. She sees how, even when you have doubts and fears, you shut them down so you can lead. You are strong, and when you're not you pretend to.

So timid, yet so loudly brave. Karlach likes all those sides of you.

Upon learning about how cold your family was, a certain grief took over her heart. She always thought nobility had good, easy lifes. And it's mostly true. She just wished it was yours and Wyll's case too. She would rather you both acting superior than knowing how young you two were when your families discarded you like trash.

"You just wait, soldier. I gonna hug you so fucking hard your bones will turn into dust."

Rolan

You're one prone to whisper. That was the very first thing about you Rolan hated. What a mask you chose for yourself. To always pretend to be sweet, polite, caring. To always be the fucking hero.

And that made things even harder for him after Cal and Lia were captured. You chose to ignore his snark comments, try to stop him from drinking, to say you're sorry. It made Rolan look like he was wrong. Like he was the Big Bad Tiefling turning the Sweet Adventure's life into hell.

And yet, you didn't use that against him. You never did. All you wanted was for him to stop being so angry at himself. To not treat himself as if he was weak, or less deserving of being alive.

You told him about your family. About how you lost them. "That's what fault looks like," you told him. "You did nothing wrong."

You have really high standarts to think you did something wrong. To think you had to carry not only the burden of grief but of despair. You save people. Constantly. Even when they don't want you to save them. Even when it costs too much for you. If you're not good enough, who is?

It was way harder to hate you after that.

"Oh, shut up. As if you were nothing but perfect."

Zevlor

Everyday there was a moment when you were sure that was it, you were about to go crazy. Looks like you were always trying to stop someone from ending up dead. No eternal darkness for you, no suicide mission also, you can kill your enslaver but that's it, don't fall for your urges, please don't try to kill someone while they're sleeping.

For Zevlor, it was alluring. You, so sweet and caring, leading some of the most troubled people he ever meet. He wasn't sure how you got yourself into that position, but he was glad you did. You saved his kin, after all.

He wasn't expecting for you to defend him at the ilithid colony. If you knew everything he did, or what he didn't, than you were the best person to judge him. You're leading you group through darkness, all of you still alive, so why couldn't he?

Instead of judging, you accept him. You told Zevlor he did his best. That you more than anyone knew how tempting it was to stop fighting. That you more than anyone knew how tempting it was to surrender.

"You should've hate me. You should've want me dead. Another debt I never will be able to pay you for."

if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

GENERAL TAGLIST: @lovelyy-moonlight

BALDUR’S GATE 3 TAGLIST: @citrusbunnies

@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.

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ziggystardust8675 · 11 months

Text

Pink Skies and Silk

Pairing: Jareth x reader

AN: It has been a HOT minute since I’ve actually posted any writing so that’s my bad. Hope some smut makes up for it!

Summary: You’ve been missing your boyfriend and he feels it’s his duty to make up for lost time.

Warnings: AFAB reader (no pronouns actually used), penetrative sex, praise kink, unprotected sex (stay safe y'all), creampie, little bit of possessiveness

The labyrinth was quiet today, it was a stark difference from the usual buzzing of life throughout it. The flowers were finally in bloom after a long and frigid winter. You could never truly get over the beauty of the labyrinth, it was otherworldly. The only thing more beautiful than the labyrinth was your boyfriend, Jareth.

He had been away at meetings all day and the longing for him was obvious. It was likely you wouldn't see him till the sun started setting, so you decided to lounge around the gardens with a good book till then.

Finally when the sky started being painted colors of pinks and oranges did you start making your way back. Upon entering the castle it was clear there wasn't a soul in sight. Not a goblin nor Jareth.

Walking up the cobblestone steps you entered you and Jareth's shared room. It too was empty.

You stripped yourself of the clothes you had worn all day and made your way towards the bathroom. Starting the bath you added a variety of sweet smelling oils and perfumes. As soon as you stepped into the warm water, your body immediately started to release the tension you didn't know you were holding.

As soon as the water started getting cold you reluctantly decided it was about time to get out. You wrapped yourself in the fluffy towel you had set out. Once you were dry you dressed yourself in a low cut silk nightgown. Usually you would save the garment for a night where Jareth would give you his undivided attention and love, however since Jareth was nowhere to be found you decided to wear it just to feel confident in yourself.

Leaving the steam filled room, you found the man who had just been occupying your thoughts lazing on your shared bed in nothing but his trousers. God, he was certainly an enticing sight sitting there reading his leather bound book. Now you were immensely thankful for what you had decided to wear tonight.

Jareth's eyes shot up from his book to meet yours like a predator to prey. The air got caught in your throat and suddenly you felt extremely warm.

Taking a step towards the bed, Jareth sat up a little more, marking the page in his book to soon be forgotten. You decided to let him come to you.

Seeing that you weren't moving anytime soon, Jareth slipped out of bed and sauntered towards you, like predator to prey. The sight of you alone was enough to make him hot, and yet here you were in your short nightgown looking heavenly, he needed you. Your breath started to pick up.

"To what do I owe the pleasure, my love." His voice was low and his hands planted firmly on your hips. Your breath was coming in short puffs as you murmured, "Mm, just missed you is all."

Jareth turned his head as he nipped at your neck, causing you to grip his shoulders. "Well, I'm here now. I believe I should make up for lost time, yes?" He whispered against your ear, causing you to involuntary shiver. All that you could muster was a breathless "Yeah" in his ear.

Finally, Jareth brought his head up to kiss you firmly. The kiss was long and left you feeling light, causing you to push your chest more firmly into his. Just as quick, Jareth pushed into you as well. The hands on your waist started to bunch the silk of your nightgown up higher. You could feel how hard he had gotten through his pants where he was pressing into the soft plush of your stomach.

The temperature in the room seemed to increase tenfold judging by the sweat starting to form on your brow. You pushed impossibly closer to him causing him to let out a low groan. He started to sneak one of his hands down to your thighs, using the other to bunch up your nightgown around your hips. You shifted your hips, starting to get impatient with the aching in your cunt. Jareth squeezed your hip a little to keep you in place,

“Patience, love.” He punctuated his sentence with a sensual kiss to your lips that lasted all too short. Finding that words had started to fail you, you tilted your head up and bit at Jareth’s neck just the way he liked.

Quickly, Jareth turned you both to the side so he could pick you up and place you on the soft cream colored sheets. He slotted his thin waist between your thighs and you arched your back slightly, “Jareth… please…” you whined, the sound was incredibly endearing to his ears. He threads his fingers through your hair, making you tip your head back so he could continue to nip at your neck, groaning as he did so.

He brought his hands down, running along the length of your body before softly rubbing the inside of one of your thighs. You moaned his name in his ear making him grunt and push his lips against you with hot passion. He runs his thumb along your clothed core making you shudder and grip his shoulders before he pulls his head back to look you in the eye and ask, “Is this okay, Love?”

You adored how even after all this time, no matter how many times you both were intimate, he would always still ask for your consent. You immediately nodded your head frantically of course, eager for all he had to give you. Without a second thought, he pulled the edge of your underwear aside to tentatively push his middle finger into your heat. At the sound of your pleasured gasp, he began to thrust his finger carefully but with more confidence that he was making you feel good. Soon he started to add a second finger, curling them and preparing you for him.

After a few moments of soft moans and the wet noise of his fingers entering your cunt, you started getting impatient, his fingers not enough. “Jareth… please… I need you… All of you.”

A devilish smile stretched across his face at your begging as he pulled his fingers from your drenched cunt to suck them clean. Your face flushed at his erotic actions, you reached to pull him closer to kiss him heatedly. He leaned back on his heels to start undoing the buckle of his pants. Once that was undone he got up to remove his pants and boxers altogether. He stood before where you lay completely bare on the bed, like some sort of divine being that came to give you the greatest of pleasures and love.

Without procrastination he got back on the bed, your legs resting on his thighs as they pushed your legs further apart. He strokes himself slowly twice, groaning at the sight of your glistening cunt. He had to resist the urge to plunge his cock into you and fuck you into the mattress, rather he wanted to take his time with you.

“You’re so pretty, all spread out like this.” His voice is tight as he guides the tip of his cock through your slick, bringing the tip to rub at your clit making you gasp out. “Jareth, please, I need you inside me.” You whimpered in pleasure when he finally started to push the tip of himself inside of you. His pace was agonizingly slow as he finally bottomed out, giving you a moment to adjust to his size. Once you give the go ahead, he starts shallowly thrusting, drawing low moans out of you.

Jareth moves his hands to grip at your hips, guiding your hips to meet his thrusts. “Ah, you take me so well Y/N… So good for me.” His chest is covered in a sheen of sweat and you can see the muscles in his stomach and arms flexing as he makes love to you. You cry out in pleasure when he grips the underside of one of your thighs to throw it over his shoulder, pounding deeper into you with this new angle. He brings the hand that isn’t holding your leg down to rub tight circles on your clit causing your back to arch and you cry out his name.

At the sound of his name leaving your lips in such a way he picks up the pace of his thrusts, low grunts and pants leaving his throat. Your thighs begin to tremble as an orgasm slowly starts to root in your lower belly. “Jareth, just like that… I’m gonna-”

“Cum for me… You’re so good, finish for me sweetheart.” His thrusts started to turn erratic as he worked to bring you to your release. Once that coil in your belly snapped, his thrusts lost all sense of rhythm as he chased his own release. He bottomed out as he released his load into you, painting your insides with his cum. You both stayed like that for a few moments as you rode out your highs, trying to catch your breath.

When he finally pulled out of you, you could feel his hot load leak out of your spent pussy. Jareth leaned back to watch it, completely entranced with the sight before him. He wanted no other to see you this way, he decided now that he was going to marry you. You would rule his kingdom by his side and he would have it no other way.

Buy me a coffee?

Masterlist

#jareth #jareth x reader #labyrinth x reader #labyrinth #fanfiction #labyrinth fanfic

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aethelwyneleigh27 · 7 months

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Lia's Writers and Blog Recommendations

Hi there lovelies! Lia here and I'd love to share the some creators that have so far been feeding me with amazing content and I'd love for you and them to know how I feel about their works so there is a bit of commentary (feel free to ignore if you're only here for recs). They are all from different fandoms and I genuinely love their works. I am not here to hate on anyone at all, simply here to bring attention to those creators I find worth reading. In fact I actually don't do negative commentary. (If I do, it's probably towards my life 😭)

This will be constantly edited if I find more creators that I loved within each fandoms. I'm sorry to all the creators I've probably bothered with this notification, if you want to be taken off this list then I will respect that and do so :))

I will respectively use the pronouns these people have provided in their bios and if they do not have it in their bios then I'll simply use they/them <3

To all tagged creators, y'all are amazing and so fucking underrated :3

CoD Creators

@frogchiro - This creator is more likely known for the absolutely scrumptious CoD hybrid AUs. MY GOD EVERY SINGLE ONE OF HER AUs ARE JUST ON ANOTHER LEVEL. Ranging from Hacker girl!Reader to Baracks Bunny!Reader. (Octo König and Coyote Graves are personal faves of mine) (Her nsfw content is the most toe curling shit I've ever read)

@ghouljams - This creator is another known for their CoD AUs, only this time you may know them as the one who wrote the Cowboy and Medieval AUs. This person and @frogchiro actually got their inboxes mixed up a few times I believe, they're both really just that good, I clearly need pointers. (I honestly don't have much words because god do I eat their content up)

@wishesforyouo (previous account being: @puff0o0) - This lovely creator makes short but sweet CoD content, you may recognize her as the person who made the popular self-aware CoD AU. Definitely my cup of tea because I really like short reads from time to time. (Miss this AU, sweetie <3)

@blingblong55 - This creator loves to make me cry, idk why. I love her though, her nsfw content is also freaking delicious I can't even.

@xo-cod - This creator, I can't even begin. I just love their writing style, it's sweet, quite short and worth the read. (We also have the same name)

@lunarw0rks - This creator makes me wanna bang my head on a table with how good their Ghost content is.

@ceilidho - This creator I can't even begin to describe how fucking delicious the Ghost content is, idgaf if it's short (IT'S PERFECT). Like my god, how'd y'all come up with content that you do. I think she captures Ghost quite well in her writing.

@mistydeyes - This creator, my fucking god. Her content is so good especially the requests she gets. The overall vibe of her writing gives a specific aesthetic that I love so much and honestly their series is worth the freaking read. Series mentioned here, the writing style is so unique but captures the characters perfectly.

@wordstome - This creator made the GREATEST FUCKING FRIENDS TO LOVERS KÖNIG FANFIC I HAVE EVER READ. It was all just so perfect, the length, the pacing and the writing style is fucking incredible. God where'd y'all get the talent to write this, here's the link to said fanfic because I do not gatekeep.

@multifandomimagin3s - This creator and the amount of Rudy content, I AM EATING IT UP. What do y'all feed yourselves to write with this amount of quality? Like their depiction of Rudy (and of course the others) is just Chef's kiss. (Also idk why but this person seems familiar since I remember someone in Wattpad a long time ago who has the same user)

@lxvvie - This creator creates the best fucking characterization I've ever read, LIKE HELLO?! Horangi is so accurate and her version of König is too. I love it, I'm eating her content up.

@rustic-guitar-notes - This creator I wanted tag this Creator so bad on this creator list because I feel like they're so underappreciated and their works are so good, LIKE IT'S ALWAYS THE UNDERAPPRECIATED WORKS THAT ARE SO GOOD THEY MAKE YOU FEEL WHAT YOU NEED AND WANT TO FEEL.

@icarustypicalfall - This creator is mutuals with almost every single one of my fave mutuals and that's how I found them. MY GOD THE RUDY AND ALEJANDRO CONTENT?? I'M EATING THAT SHIT UP.

@skeletalgoats - This creator IS SO FREAKING UNDERATED, I FOUND MYSELF BINGING THIER WORKS AND IT IS SO GOOD AND YOU KNOW WHAT'S THE BEST THING? THEY HAVE MULTIPLE WORKS ON ROACH. Istg y'all, WE NEED MORE OF ROACH.

@ghosts-cyphera - This creator, HELLO MISS MA'AM? THE PS!GHOST AU?!?! SHE GOT ME THINKING OF IT ALL THE TIME NOW LIKE WHAT DOES SHE PUT IN HER WRITING TO MAKE IT SO GOOD. First of all I'm in love with her version of Ghost because he's just so fucking caring despite the sexual themes, SHE MANAGED TO MAKE A PORNSTAR AU WITH DOMESTIC AND ROMANTIC ASPECTS WITHOUT MAKING IT FEEL SHALLOW AND SUPERFICIAL, LIKE HOW? What kind of food are y'all eating to create the content you guys feed us readers with?

@halcyone-of-the-sea - This creator has their own aesthetic and vibe when it comes to the writing. OMG I CAN'T EVEN BEGIN WITH THE WRITING STYLE, IT'S SO GOOD AND DETAILED. NOT MENTION SHE HAS QUITE A LOT OF POPULAR WORKS THAT I BINGED LIKE THERE WAS NO TOMORROW.

@azereus - This creator, I CAN'T EVEN LIKE WHY SO CRIMINALLY UNDERATED? THEIR WRITING IS LITERALLY SO GOOD AND DESERVES SO MUCH BETTER THAN THE ATTENTION IT'S GETTING. NOT ONLY THAT BUT I'VE READ THEIR WORK OVER AND OVER AGAIN.

@peachesofteal - This creator, OH MY FUCKING GOD, THE WRITING IS A GODSEND. I FINISHED HER WHOLE SERIES "LIGHT ON" IN LESS THAN AN HOUR AND NOW I'M CRAVING MORE. HOLY SHIT IT WAS SO FUCKING GOOD. "MY GIRLS"?!?! GOT ME SO BAD, MY FUCKING HEART IS EXPLODING.

@drop-cherries - this creator brought me back on this list. You all must be saying "Lia you haven't updated this is so long, it must be some scrumptious ass work you've seen". DAMN WELL IT'S GOOD, got me in my feels and everything, needed that domestic life with Simon after so much nsfw content, I need breaks too y'all. Although I did like that one nsfw post earlier, if you saw that, no you didn't :). They are so criminally underrated too so go check them out, from one creator to another, they seem so freaking talented and I love using my platform to help you guys reach other creators too, who hardly get enough attention for something they worked hard on :>

TLOU Creators

@elliesbelle - This creator is top of this list for a reason, their content is the most scrumptious, drama-filled fanfics I have ever read. And yes I'm referring to their series "Nobody Compares To You". I can't even begin to say how much I love this creator, if I wasn't broke then I'd would've already tipped them. I personally think she captures Ellie's personality well. I appreciate a writer who implements shit that happen in her life into her stories. (Despite that, the amount of things happening in their love life is also some complicated shit that I love hearing updates from. Love ya belle <3) Me reading the belle's fanfic at 3am knowing damn well I have school the next day

@lovelettersfromluna - This creator is another amazing writer and holy hell are her works so good, like the length and writing style is just perfect. It's so compact yet it's not too long, add me on your ma'am taglist, please 🥺 <3

@seattlesellie - This creator, I just love her writing style especially with the knight!Ellie fic. Not to mention all the Abby content <3

@callmelola111 - This creator is another person to go to when looking for top tier Ellie fanfics, definitely worth the read on her works.

@clemellie - This creator AND WRITING TLOU SMUT IS A MATCH MADE IN HEAVEN OH MY GOD, first of all, the characterization of both Ellie and Abby are so top tier then there's the ungodly toe curling smut. She is worth the fucking read every time.

@papipedroo - This creator has made a a series on Joel Miller x Reader angst AND I CAN'T EVEN BEGIN TO SAY HOW GOOD IT WAS. THEY GOT ME CRYING AT 7 IN THE MORNING. I also adore the writing style and pacing, I genuinely could not wait for the next part because I NEED Joel to grovel. I DON'T EVEN CRUSH ON JOEL MILLER AND THEY GOT ME HOOKED SO BAD.

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sordidmusings · 6 months

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Tender Love and Care - Hair Care (Buggy x amab!Reader

Art by ijessbest on Twitter (refusing new name still) I believe they also have a tumblr by the same name!

A/N: Sorry I took so long to post this and thank you for your patience! I had thought I put it up earlier but noticed that wasn't true while doing some organizing. The differences are pretty subtle but I hope they are meaningful for your immersion and help you feel seen! If there's something I can do better (I am cis fem so I'm sure there's much my experience has me missing about yours) please let me know! I'd like to help y'all get your escapism too 🤍

From the original a/n - "Ah yes, another 'taking care of Buggy's head' fic to take up space on the internet. Just gotta indulge in giving this man some tlc. Did I write four thousand words of simping for the cringefail pirate clown's hair? Yes. And I'd do it again >:p"

Word Count: ~4k

Warnings: masculine leaning amab!reader (no pronouns or gendered titles), Lots of Feelings, yearning, possibly angst?, probably hurt/comfort?, waxing very poetic, Buggy being a prickly bitch who doesn't know how to receive affection, Buggy also being a delusional bitch who immediately latches on to that affection

afab!Version

~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~

“Touch the makeup and I’ll bite your fingers off!”

“I’m quaking.”

“...I’ll spit in your face.” His eyes narrowed while you blanched. “I’ve got damn good aim too so you better watch those big ol’ eyes.” Almost a compliment? Progress.

“To save us both from catastrophe, I’ll let you keep your grease-face,” you promised. After a few more seconds of giving you the stink eye (really, you should be taking notes because his form is exemplary), Buggy finally settled back into your hold. His stubble scratched lightly at your palms and you allowed your thumbs a scant few passes from his cheek bones to the back of his jaw. That was easy enough to play off as mindless movements while you examined him for the coming wash. Hopefully. You were at least putting in the effort to keep the affection in your chest from blooming into a wide smile on your face, lest he begin spitting like a wet cat again.

After placing him down on your clothes chest, you began gathering together the things you’d need to clean him up. You had already prepared a large basin of steaming water before you had grabbed Buggy from Zoro for your night shift with him. If he had truly protested against you then you’d just have extra water to spoil yourself with for your nightly routine. What a loss. While you flitted around grabbing a cup, a pile of towels, and care products, Buggy took to commenting about whatever his eyes fell on around your room. Your half-assed replies did nothing to discourage his gentle roast of your safe space. He only shut up when you picked him back up and brought him over to the basin.

You were taken by surprise when you took off his bandana. You had guessed that his hair was thick from the pieces that framed his face, but you hadn’t expected long locks to be wrapped up in there. They slipped and fell down like silk despite being in clear need of a wash, and you started to become a bit excited to see how they would come to shine under your care.

“What’s wrong with you? Never seen hair before?” There was a bit more bite to him all of a sudden and it hit you that he may be self-conscious from your staring.

“Never seen yours before, duh,” you teased. “You should wear your hair out as a power move against all the scrangly ass men in these waters.”

Buggy took a blank-faced moment to process your words. Probably weighing your sincerity against the backlog of insults he’s heard in his life. Unfortunately, one joking compliment never stood a chance.

“Whatever, just do your job.” His bitter tone made you keep your mouth shut and drop the topic. For now.

Seeing how he had a lot more hair than anticipated, you got up again to grab yet another towel so that you could use it as a cushion. Finally settled, you grabbed Buggy in one hand, the cup in the other, and got to work. You had laid a small board across the basin so you could rest Buggy on it instead of having to hold him up the whole time. You may have gotten strong in this life, but you were not masochistic enough to try holding him up throughout this process. You made sure to be extra gentle when you put him to rest on the back of his head, mindful that the hard plank wasn’t the most comfortable.

Wetting his hairline was taking longer than you thought. The soft noises from the pouring water hitting his scalp and trickling through his hair into the basin below felt loud in the stillness of the room. Everything had a languid air like you could breathe freely without thought or time to measure the passing of each exhale. Wanting to check in, you looked down from your task and into Buggy’s face. Despite all his past showboating, Buggy was having difficulty keeping his gaze anywhere near your face. You decided to take pity on him in his discomfort but not too much. “So how’d you get your damn good aim?”

Silence.

You’re beginning to think that him looking at you like you’re stupid is his comfort zone.

“You know, that ‘damn good aim’ that makes my ‘big ol’ eyes’ easy targets?” you supplied. At first, you thought he would roll his eyes and make more digs at you, but he finally caught you off guard.

“It’s a trade secret,” he said with a growing smile and a glint in his eyes. His face grew even more pleased when you smiled mischievously back at him.

“Clown trade?”

He hummed out an affirmative. You saturated the last of his hair at the front and sides and now needed to dunk the rest in the basin. The sheer amount of long blue locks that this pretty, pretty man had may cause it to overflow, but you supposed that’s just a workplace hazard when becoming a glamor clown’s hairdresser. You paused in lowering him to look around quite dramatically (squinty eyes, pursed lips, and all) before leaning slightly closer to stage whisper, “You can tell me; I ain’t no snitch.”

You barely caught the laugh that he choked short in order to keep up his serious facade. He let his eyes wander the room to double check your surveying and pretended to be in thought. He let out a heaving sigh and said, “Okay, okay, but you have to lean in close. Can’t have this getting out.”

Ever obliging, you turned your head and leaned until you felt his warm breath on your skin and the roundness of his nose tickling to top of your ear. You were thankful he couldn’t see the little shiver down your spine or the goosebumps spreading down your neck. He was thankful you couldn’t see him close his eyes to savor the scent of your aftershave. All was still for a few breaths too long.

“The secret?” you prompted, thinking he was waiting for your urging or that he was just trying to make you squirm. You didn’t see his eyes flutter open while he forced thoughts other than your closeness back into that head of his. Okay, he really needed to do something to reel himself back in and get some control of the situation. Easier said than done when he’s only a head.

You felt as much as you heard him take a deliberate inhale… only for a loud raspberry to be blown right next to your ear.

Nearly dropping him in shock, you quickly pulled your head back and held him at arm’s length like a misbehaved puppy. Through his canting cackles, Buggy met your wide eyes with a proud grin. It didn’t even need the help of his makeup to split his face. Damn, you could stare at that forever. He had just the prettiest eyes you think you’d ever seen. The way they shifted color under the low lights and sparkled with his smile had you feeling entranced. It had the same commanding presence and addicting warmth as flames with their own swirling colors and sparking embers. You thought your poetic idioms for him would always center around the sea, especially for his blue-green eyes, but here we are.

The corner of his smile started to twitch downward under your stare until wild and cheerful laughter burst from your lips. They were the kind to shake your shoulders and scrunch your cheeks up into your eyes and he’s now certain that he has fucked right up. Buggy felt alarms blaring in his mind as he took in your joy and was certain he would make an absolute fool of himself in any and all ways possible to keep getting hits of it. Between your settling chuckles, you managed to say, “Don’t worry, I’ll bring that wisdom with me to my grave.”

Readjusting your grip, you moved forward and dunked the back of Buggy’s head fully into the water. He sighed out at the sensation, but he fully melted when one of your hands went to support the back of his skull and the other flowed through his tresses to make sure all of them were wet. You let yourself take your time, both to make sure you were thorough and to indulge yourself in the comfort of the moment. A tenderness spread through you when you saw that this was also indulging Buggy. His breath was slow and steady, and his eyes were resting closed to better focus on the sensations coming to him. You truly were a people pleaser at heart and seeing someone so bedraggled and affection-starved accept your care made your heart and head feel fuzzy.

You slowly leaned him more upright and used your other hand to wipe out some of the excess water. Buggy felt you shuffling around, and his eyes opened to see what you were up to. After you moved him to rest on the flat bottom of his neck on top of the softest towel that he’s felt in ages, he realized that you went through the trouble to try to make even that wooden board comfortable for his sake. He was starting to feel even more uncertain and out of his element.

Careful fingers carded through and spread out his hair behind him while an equally careful gaze watched over their work. After lathering your hands with a shampoo bar scented by vanilla and spices, you set to work giving him the scalp massage of a lifetime.

While focusing on doing the best job possible and maybe also the beautiful color of his hair was keeping you from thinking about anything else, Buggy had no such luxury. He had nothing to direct his nervous energy at - didn’t even have fingers to fidget with! - so he closed his eyes and tried to keep his face neutral. Everyone enjoys a good scalp massage or at least some kind of pampering so it wouldn’t have been weird for him to visibly enjoy it, but something watery and vulnerable was pressing at his throat under your tender care. His mind and body (well… head) were at odds. While his train of thought spun every which way only to be tethered back to the word ‘why’, his muscles melted until they were soft and pleasantly limp. Has his brow ever been so smooth? His jaw so loose? His lips so softly set? Oh God, you must have noticed the stubborn stiffness in his neck because your fingers abandoned his hair to firmly rub from the base of his skull to where he met the towel and that was truly his undoing.

With a rumbly hum, Buggy finally gave in to temptation and tied his mind to your movements. He let himself imagine affection there - imagine that this was special and just for him. You’ve never tended to anyone else like this. You offered because you simply had to know what his hair felt like. You just wanted to touch him. You wanted it much more than you ever wanted to touch anyone else. If he opened his eyes and looked up at yours, he would see them pouring with love, just like your hands were, and you would look sweetly down at him with your gorgeous eyes and handsome smile and say lovely things and you’d love him-

You’d love him.

Fuck.

You noticed Buggy suddenly flinch under your hands and you tensed up.

“Are you okay? Did I snag your hair?” You hadn’t felt anything tug but you supposed you could’ve missed it.

Buggy cleared his throat before stiffly responding, “No. Keep going.”

Something thick in his tone caught your attention and you looked to see his expression was tense instead of the blissed out one you had admired not too long ago. That won’t do. You went back to the tried and true pressure points on the scalp that you knew from experience eased anyone up. Checking his face again, you noticed it was more relaxed but still too guarded for your tastes. Deciding he must be getting antsy, you switched to working the shampoo down his hair after getting a touch more product on your hands. The time it took to get it properly sudsed and rinsed was calm, despite the fact that there was some undercurrent to the air that felt charged. Maybe it was just from seeing the talkative and bratty clown be so subdued. As you began spreading conditioner through his hair, you decided that it was time to engage him again.

“This bar is my favorite; nothing makes my hair softer,” you said. Already, his hair was relaxing to glide even more smoothly between your fingers. You weren’t ready to give the feeling up, so you spent the entire time that the conditioner was setting to run your fingers through his hair.

Buggy couldn’t do anything at the moment to judge your claim, but the smell alone made him understand why it was your favorite. It matched that of the shampoo bar, but the richer ingredients in the conditioner highlighted the comforting tones of the vanilla and the sensuality of warm spices and wood. He relished in it on every inhale, hoping to unravel and memorize its every undertone. Was that a touch of amber in there? A little pink peppercorn? Maybe some incense and oud at the base? Buggy suddenly felt ridiculous. He was never one to give much thought to fancy perfumes, yet here he was trying to dissect your scent like a sommelier tasting a new wine.

You made quick work of rinsing his hair this final time and gently pushing and squeezing any excess water out. You set Buggy back on a towel, this time one that was spread on the floor. It was the one that you had just been sitting on. Buggy was embarrassed that he noticed and enjoyed the fact that he could still feel your body heat on it.

“How many of those things do you have?” Buggy scoffed as you pulled yet another towel over to dry his hair. You flicked his forehead in warning against further sass.

“You can never have too many. It’s something that you use daily and they come in handy during emergencies,” you explained.

“Oh yeah like what?”

“Well, I was thinking of situations like having to soak up a spill or blood, but the state of your hair definitely qualifies.”

The outburst was immediate.

“I KNEW YOU WERE MAKING FUN OF ME YOU DAMN LIAR! HOW DA-”

Good thing you were prepared for this and stuffed some of yet another towel into his screaming mouth. He bit down on it harshly and glared at you with all his might. Snarls and grumbles still made their way through the cloth, letting you know just how displeased he was. You were a little shocked to find that despite being gagged and despite just being a head that his glare still actually intimidated you. The time spent with the crew treating him like a harmless little pest had helped you forget that, when push came to shove, he could back up his talk with violence.

The brief glimpse of fear in your eyes gave him a twinge of satisfaction but mostly felt a lot more hollow than he’d expected. Wasn’t this what he wanted?

When you reached back out to continue drying his hair, you were more tentative than he had ever seen you and his mood dropped even further. Even with your caution, the way that you moved the towel over his hair and gently squeezed more water out of it was filled with care. The whole thing felt very foreign to him. Buggy usually rubbed his towel through his hair chaotically like the more forceful he was the sooner he could get done with the bothersome task. You were working over him like any undue force would be an insult. Like he was something precious. That watery feeling started pressing on him again.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” you started quietly. “I just meant to poke fun, not make you actually feel insulted.” After a few more soft pats with the towel, you slowly removed his makeshift gag. He took a moment to wiggle around his jaw and get the dry feeling out of his mouth.

“Yeah, well good job, dumbass,” he bit. You winced at the hurt in his tone. “Just finish up.”

You took a moment to recenter yourself while you grabbed your comb and brush. This was not how you wanted this to go. One wrong comment had sent this whole interaction spiraling and it made you sad. Sensitivity like that was usually built up from years of feeling the same hurts over and over again, and you didn’t ever want to be someone to aggravate an already festering wound, especially not on someone who you genuinely enjoyed. Not on someone who you were increasingly craving affection from. This needed to be fixed. Steeling yourself for the resistance you were about to meet, you began combing the ends of his hair and spoke, “The blue color is pretty.”

He ignored you. As expected.

“It was one of the first things I noticed about you.” He still wouldn’t even glance up at you. “Also how it brings out the color of your eyes.”

He snorted dismissively in a way that very clearly told you he wasn’t believing a word you said. Also expected. You’re just going to have to soldier on until this eventually worked… maybe worked… hopefully worked?

Just as in the rest of the process, you were slow and thorough when combing his hair. You murmured compliments to him about how soft it is; how thick and how beautiful. By the time that you had switched to using your brush, he was showing signs of being worn down by your flattery. His face was more relaxed and he let himself look around instead of trying to burn a hole through the floor. All you could focus on, though, was how downcast and tired his eyes looked.

“Alright, I’m all finished up,” you told him. “I’m going to put you in the hammock for a minute while I get ready for bed.”

After placing him in the middle of your bedding, you disappeared behind a dressing screen. The routine of bathing yourself with a washcloth and bowl of soapy water eased you. Since you had taken so much time tending to Buggy, the last bowl of fresh water had become lukewarm. Despite this, the final wipe down had you feeling refreshed and ready to jump into bed. It was no soak in the tub, but still left you feeling much better after a long day of helping work around the ship.

You had set about your routine briskly so that you didn’t leave Buggy waiting too long. Little did you know, he didn’t mind the time of having nothing to do besides enjoy the soft blankets you curled up in every night. He was trying to soak it in before you inevitably put him back down on the floor. If the night had taught him anything, you’d at least put him on one of those fluffy towels instead of throwing him back in the bag like the others did.

You came over to him on the hammock and he admired how you looked, now clean and fresh. His eyes poured over your shirtless chest and the thin sleep pants moving around the shape of your legs. When you picked him back up, your face and body language were as placid as he had ever seen them and he was surprised at how content that made him feel. He readied himself to be moved away, left cold and forgotten, but he was astonished when you plopped yourself in your bedding instead with him still in your hands. The shock must have shown on his face because you chuckled at him and gave him a bright smile. Even with the bumpy road that the night had been, your smile made him soft and content. He was realizing with more and more resignation that your smile and laugh would let you get away with anything when it came to him.

“So no floor? Trying to bribe me with favors?” His voice was mostly back to that sarcastic lilt you’ve come to adore.

Content that he was feeling better, you answered, “Nah, just using you so I can have a teddy bear. Haven’t had a good one in ages.”

Making good on that promise, you made sure that he was securely nestled into your neck and shoulder. You used both of your arms to cradle him there and both hands to continue your worship of his hair. It was just barely damp and the coolness felt nice on your hands, especially in contrast to the cozy heat emanating from his head. His long eyelashes tickled at your neck every time he blinked, just like the light scruff on his jaw teased at the skin on your chest. His big nose felt cozy rested on your clavicle, and you had to resist the urge to reach down and trail your fingers on it. A giddy and victorious feeling flushed through you when you felt him close his eyes a final time and sink into your embrace.

Buggy should have known that he was doomed from the start. He was having a hell of a time trying not to moan at your fingers scratching and massaging his scalp, both during the hair care and now, when he was held in your arms. The feeling of being rested on your bare chest sent his heart racing. He couldn’t stop his little movements to nestle into you and get just that much more of your warmth and touch. If he thought that he loved the smell of you before, he was absolutely intoxicated now that he knew what it was like when it floated over the two of you while wrapped in body-warmed sheets.

He wanted to ask you why you were doing all of this, but he didn’t want to know the answer. Not right now. Right now he was going to let himself go back into that place in his head where you lo- cared about him. A place where each night he would crawl into bed with you and, no matter how the day went, you would be there to empty his mind of anything but the two of you. You’d greet him with a kiss or a laugh or an embrace and you would shine with so much joy because he’s next to you again. He’d know what your love felt like, how it felt to be under your hands, how your skin felt under his lips. All these daydreams swirling in his head started to make him sick with want, and he needed to know at least one of them. He couldn’t handle all of them staying forever in his mind.

The tiniest increase of pressure from his lips brought your attention to where they rested below your collarbone. The almost kiss was so heartbreakingly shaky and hesitant that you felt your eyes burn with the threat of tears. To reassure him, you dragged your cheek across his temple before turning to leave a deliberate kiss there. Buggy relished the contact, the satisfied sigh you let out afterward, and the gentle weight of your cheek as you snuggled back into him. Your reward came in the form of a grinning cheek pushing into you.

All his humor and posturing certainly caught your attention in the best way and even his explosive temper was something you couldn’t say turned you away. This gentleness, though, this uncertain and wounded place, had you bursting with affection and you were hoping to keep experiencing it. You’d meet it each time with steady affection until it turned into something he embodied with the same surety that he had in his beloved spotlight.

Both of you slipped more sweetly into dreams, curled up together as you were, and with more peace and ease than the years before had allowed. Neither of you would let the years to come be absent of this sweet treasure, either.

#buggy x reader #buggy x you #buggy x y/n #opla buggy x reader #buggy the clown #opla buggy #one piece #amab reader #male reader #opla #one piece live action #x reader

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callsign-rogueone · 4 days

Text

one for the books - g.t.

Garrick Tavis x Scribe!Reader part of my Valentine’s Day Celly (better late than never?) words: 1.7k (got a little carried away here, oops) 🏷: IRON FLAME SPOILERS. scribe reader who is referred to as a woman one time, and has painted nails, but no pronouns used. just some meet-cute fluff with reader and Gare. love at first sight. it's weird writing him with anyone other than Angel, but I hope y'all will still like it anyway 🥺

Garrick wanders through the rows of bookshelves in search of someone who actually knows what they’re doing, so he won’t have to spend the entire day looking at the titles of every book in this massive library.

It doesn’t take long for him to find the only scribe who’d come with them to Aretia: Violet’s friend, Jesinia, who had helped them sneak into the Archives to get the journals. Who happens to be Deaf. He hadn’t thought about that part.

He waves a hello, racking his brain for the letters of the alphabet and spelling out his request at a snail’s pace, hoping he’s moving his hands correctly. I… n-e-e-d…

Jesinia takes pity on him, holding up a hand to stop him and darting back into the maze of shelves, leaving him standing there thoroughly embarrassed -- he really needs to add “study sign” to his list of things to do after this whole wyvern thing is resolved and Tyrrendor is freed again. Whenever that will be.

He’s expecting her to come back with a pen and paper, so he can write it down, but she emerges thirty seconds later with another scribe in tow, one he’s never met before -- the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen.

Jesinia gestures to you with a soft smile, and leaves.

He blinks once, twice, taking you in.

You’ve taken some creative liberties with the uniform, wearing the beige scribes’ robes open with a plain shirt and pants underneath, the hood down to expose your face and hair, a pair of glasses perched atop your head and a clipboard in hand, your nails long and painted a pale pink -- a few of them have started to chip, but it’s endearing; comforting to find a tiny flaw in an otherwise perfect presence.

You’re equally entranced. The fortress is crawling with riders -- you’re one of maybe five students here who are anything else -- but this one in particular makes your heart race.

It’s as if the gods pulled a knight from the pages of one of your fantasy novels and dropped him in front of you in this library; broad and tall, muscled and tattooed, two longswords strapped across his back… he’d be intimidating without the nervous smile on his face and the blush dusting his cheeks, the afternoon light coming through the windows and making him glow.

“How can I help you, Lieutenant?” you ask after a moment, hoping you don’t sound as flustered as you feel.

The scar running down the side of his face moves as he speaks -- more quietly than you’d been expecting. “Riorson sent me; he wants everything you have about wards.”

You blow out a nervous breath. “Okay, uh… I’m still not totally sure how this library is organized, but I’ll see what I can do.”

“We can look together, then,” he offers, giving you a knee-weakening smile.

You don’t know if you can spend the rest of your afternoon with this man and not make a complete fool of yourself, but you’ll just have to try your best. “Sounds like a plan.”

You realize you don’t know each other’s names, having been too busy staring at each other to make proper introductions.

“Garrick,” he offers, extending a hand to shake.

You’re really supposed to refer to him as Lieutenant, since he’s graduated and you haven’t, but you still repeat the word softly, trying it out. “Nice to meet you, Garrick.”

He already owes Xaden Riorson his life, but hearing you say his name, feeling the softness of your hand against his… he decides he’ll be in the boy’s debt well into the afterlife, too.

“I’ll start on one end, you on the other, and meet in the middle?” you ask. “Anything with wards, magic, or protection in the title would be a good start.”

He hums in acknowledgement, heading down to the end of the row.

“I haven’t been in here in ages,” he admits, scanning the rows of shelves for anything that could be useful. “I lived most of my life here before the revolution,” he adds quickly, explaining.

Small talk is good. You can do small talk.

“It must have been interesting growing up in a fortress like this,” you respond, too shy to ask him for his likely incredibly-tragic life story outright, and you’re technically on the job right now, so you should be focusing on the task at hand.

He picks another volume off the top shelf, keeping his feet flat on the ground and barely having to stretch for it. “It was. There were a few dozen of us kids around, always underfoot and meddling. We used to play hide and seek in here, and see how long we could stay before the scribes found us and kicked us out.”

You laugh, a sound he doesn’t think he’ll ever grow tired of hearing. You may be a librarian, but you’re the polar opposite of the typical strict and stiff scribes he’s used to -- young and lovely and not afraid to laugh and talk among the books, to let them hear your voice and know that they’re appreciated. They’re lucky to have someone like you watching over them.

Since you’re grasping at straws here, you decide to cast a broad net and pull down anything that could be even a little bit helpful -- and you’re finding more than you’d thought, likely because the Tyrrish basically invented wards.

You really should have brought a cart, but it’s no issue for him -- he’s holding at least ten thick volumes at once with complete ease.

“I got it,” he offers, shifting the tall stack he’s amassed into one arm and taking yours with the other. Seeing a man like him with an armful of books is hotter than it should be. Everything about him is hotter than it should be.

He sets the stack on the nearest table, shrugging off his jacket and draping it over the back of a chair before he sits down.

Your eyes linger on the relic winding around his arm like a plume of black smoke, contrasting against the pale muscle. You know it was intended as way to mark them as the descendants of those who had committed treason, to set them apart from their peers and to force them to enroll in the rider’s quadrant, but he looks like he didn’t have too much trouble in his days at Basgiath, if the two dozen patches on his flight jacket are any metric.

It suits him. He’d look incomplete without the relic and the thick scar on the side of his face. It would be rude to ask how he got it, but the curiosity still tugs at you. You want to know everything about him.

You realize you’re staring, and pull your eyes away as quickly as you can manage, worried that he’ll think you’re judging him -- though you wouldn’t be here if you weren’t on his side.

You each take a book off the top and crack it open, scanning for anything that could help. “Did he say anything more specific? Or why he needs this?”

“Nope. But he’s always been vague and mysterious, even when we were kids, before he had all those shadows following him around.”

“I’ve only seen him twice, but that sounds accurate.”

It’s his turn to laugh. “He may be all cold and broody all the time, but he’s a good guy. I’ve always considered him my best friend.”

You’re thinking of the best way to keep him talking when Jesinia knocks on the side of a nearby shelf to get your attention. Done with my transcribing. What’s next?

Thank you. You can leave for the day.

Jesinia gives you a sly smile. You don’t want help? Or do you just want to be alone with him because you think he’s handsome?

She’d told you that Garrick’s sign was rusty, that he could only fingerspell, but you still turn away from him as you respond, praying he didn’t understand what she just said.

Two can play at this game. I’ve been meaning to ask, how is that redhead boy who keeps coming by to talk to you? I’m sure he’d like to see you for another sign lesson tonight.

She reddens, realizing you know about her crush on the rider, and bails out of the conversation while she still can. Goodnight!

There’s that lovely laugh again as you turn back to him, seeing him watching you -- now you really hope he didn’t understand. He quickly returns his gaze to the book in front of him, which definitely isn’t modern Navarrian or any of the other languages you know. It must be Tyrrish.

“You can read this?” you ask with rapt curiosity, leaning forward to take a better look at it.

“About every fifth word or so,” he answers. “There aren’t many fluent speakers left, since it was outlawed decades ago and kids aren’t taught it in school. I don’t see the symbol for “wards” anywhere, but that might be too obvious.”

“No language should ever be outlawed,” you respond, perhaps a little too hotly. “There must be so much valuable information that was lost in translation or destroyed entirely after the wars. That’s one of the reasons I wanted to become a scribe, to try to save as much as I could. But so many of the texts in the Archives have been translated over and over, and I can’t help but wonder if some things were left out on purpose.”

Another smile. “Well-said. Into the “maybe” pile, then?”

Your cheeks warm with embarrassment as you realize how long you’d been talking. “That’s the only pile we have,” you sigh, stretching.

He’d shown up around four, and it’s nearing seven now, your body automatically responding to the hour and telling you to pack things up, but that’s one of the nicest things about the library here -- unlike the Archives at Basgiath, you can work here through the night, and not be booted out at seven on the dot.

You’d asked the Lieutenant Colonel about it when he’d come by one day, and he’d told you there wasn’t any sort of magical time-sealing-lock on the library, just a normal wooden door charmed to be fireproof -- so you’d stayed in one of the armchairs until midnight reading, just because you could.

“Well,” he offers, “I know it’s a grave sin to eat in the library, so how about we take a break, get ourselves some dinner, and pick this back up after?”

Smooth. Very smooth.

“I’d like that,” you answer, your heart fluttering. “I’d like that a lot.”

#garrick tavis #garrick tavis x reader #fourth wing #fourth wing x reader #reader insert #imagine #mine #valentine's day celly

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