#Here. Come take my hand. Live my truth with me. It can be five nights at yuris if we really believe

[jonahmagnus]

I would go to fnaf if this was purple guy

#Fnaf #five nights at freddys #five nights at freddy’s #William afton #wet willy #Peepaw willie #My unfortunate art #doodal #Purple guy #not genderbend #Here. Come take my hand. Live my truth with me. It can be five nights at yuris if we really believe #That was corrected to hubris . Yeah

[thetempleofthemasaigoddess]

Gentleman caller

Sanji x reader. NSFW!!

This fic was inspired by Usopp visiting Kaya at her mansion at night. One Piece of course is not that sort of story, but... what if things were allowed to get a little more spicy?

TAGGING @holymusicalmothman @b7717 @mcereal @aamon47 Thanks for asking!!

*****

"Are you sure you don't want a glass of warm milk before you go to bed, miss?"

"I am sure, Kyla." you answer politely. The truth is you haven't drunk a glass of milk to help you fall asleep since you were ten (that is, almost half your life) but your governess keeps asking, every single night, and every single night you answer no; still, you know she does it out of worry and affection for you, which you sincerely appreciate "I think I'll go now; will you tell my father good-night for me, when he returns?"

Kyla promises she will, and returns to the kitchen to clean up after dinner, while you walk out of the villa's large dining room, cross a long corridor and climb the stairs to the upper floor, finally reaching your bedroom.

Except for Kyla in the kitchen you are alone, since the cook and the gardener, who do not reside in the villa, already left, and your father is as usual busy with a business dinner. You don't feel lonely exactly, since that state of affairs has been going on since your mother died when you were still too young to remember her, but it does feel a little weird to live in such a large place, no less than twelve bedrooms on the first floor alone and at least six other rooms that have been closed for years since you literally don't know how to occupy them, when it's only the two of you... a waste of space, even though you and your father often host parties and receive many guests.

And the most important of those visitors by far is going to arrive soon, a person your father has no idea has already visited so many times before...

You take off your shoes, and spend a few minutes in the en-suite bathroom refreshing yourself before closing the bedroom's door behind you. You sigh, happy and excited, as you let yourself fall on the bed, observing the room you have slept in since you were maybe six and that you will soon leave: the desk cluttered with paper models, scarps of fabric and sewing tools; the two mannequins wearing your latest creations, a green cocktail dress and a simpler but elegant light blue men's shirt; the bookstore full of sewing manuals, fashion catalogs and the biographies of your favourite designers; the large poster on a wall, depicting a famous, elegantly dressed model... and the glass door that, only a few minutes after you have retired to your room, starts being hit by tiny pebbles, picked from the garden below.

Your guest is here. You happily stand from the bed, glance quickly to the full length mirror on the wall to make sure your hair is combed and in order, and reach the glass door to quickly step onto the balcony.

Standing in the garden under you like a suitor ready to serenade you, more handsome than a fairy-tale hero and beaming as if about to see all his dreams come true, is him. The former assistant cook of your family, your best friend in the world, your...

"Sanji!" you call out to him, voice barely rising above a whisper as you wave your hand at him, a greeting he returns in kind, clearly happy to see you, hidden among the trunks of the centuries-old trees; the night is particularly dark, heavy clouds covering the crescent moon and most of the stars, but his smile is brighter than any other source of light.

"Are you alone?" Sanji asks urgently as he glances all around him; no one has reason to visit the garden at this hour and the balcony is oriented towards the back of the villa, far from the main entrance through which your father would come in, but you both know how imperative it is to keep your rendez-vous secrets.

"I am; my dad hasn't returned yet and Kyla is in the kitchen. You can come up."

When you decided you would meet in secret at night, five years ago, you had offered to find a rope for him to climb, but Sanji never needed it. Tonight, as usual, you look on as he nimbly climbs the tree closest to the villa's wall, clinging to the huge trunk and then to the largest branches until he's jumping above the balcony and directly in your arms.

You embrace each other, your profiles standing out against the light filtering from the room, and for a full minute neither feels the need to talk. Sanji's arms hold you close by the waist, his lips pressed against your temple in a chaste kiss; you lose yourself in his scent, the costly perfume you bought for him because you knew he liked but couldn't afford it and and that never fails to make you shiver, as you enjoy the sensation of his slim but strong body pressed against yours.

"Do you have it?" you ask after a while, pulling away just enough to look at him in the eyes; you thought about nothing else for days, more nervous than if it had been your own future career at stake "The answer from the school. Did you receive it?"

"I have."

"... and?!"

Sanji, as usual neatly dressed in one of the dark suits he wears at work, smiles at you, his fingers brushing against your face; a small backpack hangs from his shoulder. "Can we go inside before we talk?" he proposes "I have something for you as well."

Knowing he brought you a treat from the restaurant he works at makes you happy, but nothing beats the simple, pure pleasure of his company. Wordlessly you take his hand to lead him inside, leaving the now empty balcony behind.

*****

Your friendship with Sanji began exactly one decade ago; you were the only daughter of a powerful politician, living alone with him at the villa and whose pathological shyness had left her virtually friendless, him a newly orphaned boy your father had decided to hire as assistant to the cook, so that he could support himself. One afternoon, you visited the kitchen to ask for a snack, since you were starving and dinner was still hours away; the cook told you that he was sorry but your father, already then worried for your weight, had strictly forbidden him from feeding you between meals. You noticed Sanji, busy scrubbing a large pot in the sink, but he seemed so focused on his job you decided not to disturb him to introduce yourself.

You left, disappointed but unwilling to insist, out of respect for both your father and the cook who was just following orders, but a few minutes later, as you studied in the library, he joined you, a nervous smile on his face and a salami sandwich in his hands.

"Please don't tell anyone, especially not your dad." he told you as he put it in your hands "I hope you liked it, I put some mayonnaise on it because I saw the cook used it to prepare your school lunch yesterday."

You did (and still do) like mayonnaise on your sandwiches, and in that moment you were doubly astonished: that he heard your request for a snack even though he had looked so engrossed in the cookware to wash, and that he had decided to risk your father's wrath to help you, less than a week after being hired.

"Thank you, I... thank you so much! That was very kind of you." you told him, for once forgetting your shyness "My name is (name). What's yours?"

"I'm Sanji. And don't worry; I'm sure your dad means well, but no one should starve, especially not at our age. Don't tell anyone, ok? I know he forbade the cook from feeding you snacks, and i'm not supposed to visit the family's wing of the villa without a valid reason."

You obviously kept his secret, and from that day on, you and Sanji quickly became inseparable, spending together all your free time from school and work; he secretly fed you every time your father's concern about your weight made the cook limit your meals, and you used your allowance to buy him cooking books he studied to pursue his dream of becoming a famous chef. Apart from your father, you had never loved anyone like him; Sanji was the other half of your soul, an acerbic but steadfast feeling that made you sure you would never feel alone, as long as he were by your side, and you would not have left him for all the treasures, and the good food, in the world.

Your father, who was happy you had finally made a friend and didn't mind you had chosen the kitchen boy and not one of your school mates, who belonged to the city's most affluent and prominent families, never had anything against it... at least until you were both fourteen, when he suddenly decided it was inappropriate for the two of you to spend so much time together; as a sign of peace, he found Sanji a more prestigious job in a famous restaurant at the other side of the city. That, in your father's opinion, would have meant the end of your friendship, but it obviously didn't: and after all, with all the sandwiches and portions of dessert he had snuck you, hadn't your friendship been based on secrecy since the very beginning?

For five years Sanji has spent with you almost every evening he is free from the restaurant; he climbs the trees next to your balcony and you let him in, and sometimes you spend the whole night talking, or leave together to visit a bar or go dancing. Is it dangerous, should your father discover what you are up to? Undoubtedly so, especially since you know he only worries about you, whether it is about the food you eat or the places you visit in a large and dangerous city; but you are an adult, more than old enough to decide how to live your life, and Sanji is always ready to protect you when someone bothers you in a club, and he would never feed you something that could seriously endanger your health. You don't know why exactly your father has suddenly decided you mustn't be friends with him anymore, but you are determined not to lose him, especially now that your relationship has started evolving beyond mere friendship... and your own dreams risk separating you forever.

*****

"So? What did the school say?" you insist as Sanji closes the glass door behind the two of you; your heart is pounding, wishing with every fiber of your being you could change the decision the commission must have taken days ago "Did you get in?"

For years Sanji has dreamed of attending the most prestigious cooking school in the country, the Baratie Culinary Arts Academy in the capital; this year he has finally reached the required age to enroll, but the entrance examination, that your friend has taken two weeks ago, is notoriously difficult, especially for who, like Sanji, also has to apply for a scholarship. Your friend was meant to receive the results of his exam today, and you had decided you would also share your own secret with him... and then, hopefully, you would both have something to celebrate.

"I'll tell you in a minute."

"Sanji, please... I haven't thought about anything else all day!" you complain, fearing your friend's reticence is due to shame for his failure; Sanji, busy emptying his backpack on your desk, smiles, before rubbing the back of his head.

"The truth is... I haven't opened the letter yet." he admits "I hoped we could do it together... mainly because I don't have the courage to do it by myself."

There is nothing wrong with wanting a friend close when one is both scared and excited for something, but in that moment your heart breaks for Sanji: he has lost his parents, had to take care of himself since he was still a child, and while he has a good job and could try again next year, being refused admission to the Baratie would break his heart.

You wait patiently as Sanji quickly sets the table for the two of you: cutlery, napkins, glasses, a bottle of water and his latest effort in the kitchen: two portions of a delicious chocolate cake, bigger than what your father would allow you to eat but still relatively small, since your friend does care about your health.

"This looks delicious, Sanji!" you exclaim, as always happy to taste your friend's latest creations "But wait..."

You walk to the small fridge next to the door, almost hidden under a pile of scraps of fabric left over from your latest creation and that you will find a use for one day, and retrieve a small but expensive bottle of champagne that you have bought in the afternoon.

"I thought we could use it to celebrate; I have also taken two flutes from the kitchen." you explain.

"I still don't know if I got in, (name)."

"I'm sure you did. And if the chefs at the Baratie can't see, and taste, how extraordinarily talented you are, it's their loss." you point out "You wanna open it?"

A minute later you are sitting face to face at your desk, cake and champagne ready to be enjoyed, the white envelope Sanji took from his backpack in your hands.

"Shall I?" you ask softly; your friend, who has never looked so pale and so young, nods.

"Please."

You both hold your breath as you open the envelope and then unfold the single sheet of paper inside. You make sure Sanji cannot see your face as you read...

"So? What... what does it say?"

"Sanji, I'm so sorry..."

"Oh, God..." your friend, heartbroken, stares at you for a moment before slumping on his chair, face hidden in his hands "I can't believe it... I was so sure..."

"I'm sorry because you have some very difficult years ahead..."

"... what?"

"Of course. Nights spent studying, sharing a room with six other people, waking up extra-early to go to class... Really, I don't envy you..."

Finally you look at him, beaming, while Sanji's eyes grow bigger as he slowly catches the meaning of your words.

"You mean...?"

"You got in! And you got the scholarship as well. Oh, Sanji, I'm so proud of you! I knew you could do it!"

You stand and embrace, laughing with shared delight. "I can't believe it." Sanji murmurs, still as he looks at the admission letter, signed by Zeff, a famous chef who is the Baratie's headmaster "There were so many people at the exam, and at one point I was so nervous I spilled a bowl of vinaigrette on my apron..."

"As I said, an important school like the Baratie, with so many experienced chefs, couldn't not recognize your talent." you point out, happier than you remember ever being "Classes start in a month, you'll have to give your notice at the restaurant."

"Yeah..."

Sanji takes your hands in his, kissing them devotedly. "I could have never done it without you." he murmurs, with the sort of gaze and inflection that, years after your first kiss, still makes you shiver "All the books you have bought me... and it was you who convinced me to apply. I owe you so much, (name)."

"You would have done the same for me; and we both know the two of us are beyond this sort of talk. I am so happy for you, truly; I know you will become a great chef."

Sanji smiles, circling your waist with his arm as he uses his free hand to pick one of the flutes from the desk. "Shall we celebrate, then?"

"Actually..."

"Actually?"

"Actually, I also have something to tell you." you admit, a new, excited smile opening on your face "You know that important fashion school in the capital, the one many of my favourite designers attended?"

Fashion has always been your greatest passion; you have designed clothes since you were a child, and thanks to a family friend who owns a large tailor shop you have learnt the basics of the trade, how to cut fabric, sew and tailor an item of clothing. Your father, who approves of your interests, has offered to introduce you to some fashion designers his friends or associates are acquainted to, but you are determined to accept no recommendations and take no shortcuts; just like Sanji, and any person who has to work hard to realize their dreams, you will pursue your education, earn an apprenticeship at a fashion house, and in time, hopefully, open your own and make a name for yourself as a designer. It will take you years and fashion is a famously difficult field to break into, but you are determined to give your all, so that whatever the future may bring you will be free from regret, and live doing what you love.

"Of course; the Nefertari Vivi Fashion Institute." Sanji promptly answers; miss Vivi is one of your idols, a ground-breaking designer who has revolutionized the fashion world and then focused on teaching, establishing one of the best-reputed educational institutions of the field "So what?"

You smile, still excited almost a week after receiving your own letter, that you asked your father to open for you.

Sanji gapes. "You are kidding."

"I am not!"

Your friend laughs. "And you didn't tell me anything!" he exclaims, and you apologize, telling him you didn't want to disappoint both of them in the not unlikely event you were not admitted.

"But you were?"

You still can't believe it yourself. "I was! There was no exam; I only had to send miss Vivi some of my creations, and a few days ago I received the acceptance letter."

"(name), that's amazing!"

"I know! I can't wait to begin. I also apply for a scholarship, but unfortunately I didn't get it."

Sanji asks whether you plan on asking your father to pay for your classes, but you shake your head: you need to learn to take care of yourself, living alone once you'll move to the capital and earning money to support yourself. To this end, you have contacted a friend who lives in the capital and owns a bookstore: she has accepted to hire you, and you have sold your jewels to pay your tuition fees.

"(name), you didn't!" Sanji exclaims, flabbergasted "Those were your mom's things..."

"I know." you sigh, still feeling saddened and a bit guilty even though you know you did the right thing "But this is my future we are talking about, the opportunity to build a career, and a life for myself, without my father taking care of me or using my family's money to buy whatever I need or want. I want to earn my keep, Sanji; I want to prove I can take care of myself, and that I am more than a spoiled little girl."

Sanji softly points out that no one who knows you could ever think that; he smiles, his handsome face expressing a joy too great and deep for words, as he takes you in his arms once more. "So we are both moving to the capital to study." he mentions "And pursue our dreams. Which means we'll both be very busy..."

"... but we won't have to hide our relationship anymore." you happily finish for him, having already reflected on the matter; you plan on living in a student residence, since their rooms are cheaper than other types of accommodation, and guests are usually not admitted, but at least you will be able to meet in the open, having dates like any other couple instead of having to hide like a married man with his mistress, lest your father learns about your relationship "I can't wait! In a month we'll both be living in the capital, studying with the best in our fields, and nothing will stop us from being together. I... I don't think I've ever been so happy!"

"Me neither." Sanji agrees, one of the flutes in his hand once more "Shall we drink to our future? And then enjoy the cake?"

You agree, but you barely have had the time to clink your glasses together when a sudden noise reaches your ears: an unexpected, but otherwise innocuous noise, at least for who, unlike the two of you, has nothing to hide...

A soft but firm knocking on the door.

Sanji looks at you, suddenly tense; you turn your eyes to the door, wishing to be able to see beyond it. "Yes?"

"(name), it's dad. May I come in?"

The flute almost slips from Sanji's fingers; terrified as if a whole army were standing at the other side of the door, ready to barge in and tear both to pieces, you both nonetheless act quickly, having prepared for such an occurrence since your first nocturnal meeting. Your friend quickly retrieves the flutes and the champagne bottle, while you do the same with the cake plates and the other things placed on your desk; a moment later, Sanji has slipped under your bed, a dusty and uncomfortable hiding spot where nonetheless he'll be safe from your father.

I hope.

"(name)? Is everything all right?"

"Just a moment, dad! I'm coming!" you answer, hoping you sound less nervous, almost terrified, than you feel; you quickly glance all around you, making sure no trace of Sanji's presence is visible, and finally go open the door.

"Hello, dad. How was dinner?" you ask, approaching to kiss him on the cheek; even though he interrupted you and Sanji, you're happy he came to say good-night to you before retiring to his own bedroom.

"Pretty good, even though the lemon cake was not up the restaurant's usual standard. Are you ok?"

"Yes, of course; I was... preparing to go to bed." you answer vaguely, before something in your peripheral vision makes you tense; it is Sanji's backpack, placed where your friend had left it less than half an hour ago: on the bed, perfectly visible.

Shit. SHIT. Shitshitshitshit...

You move a step to the right, so as to prevent your father from noticing the backpack; it is not as compromising as if he had found Sanji's tie, or his shoes, but he could notice the backpack is a men's model, and inside he could find your friend's personal documents, five years after he had forbidden you from having further contact with him. Don't look at it. Don't see it. Please please please...!

Thank God your father, a clever and perceptive man, seems unconcerned with out-of-place objects in your room. "I was thinking tomorrow we could go buy a new suitcase for you; you need a large one, since you'll have to bring most of your things when you'll move to the capital. I hope you'll allow me to pay for that at least."

You smile, grateful for the offer and even more for the intention. "Of course, dad. Thank you."

He smiles, taking your hands in his. "I am so proud of you." he murmurs "I have always known you had a great talent for fashion, but being admitted to such a prestigious school... You'll become the greatest designer of your generation, I'm sure."

"Dad..."

"Please, let me be happy for you. You know I'm always there if you need something, right? I know you have found a job, and you are smart and mature enough to take care of yourself, but if you ever need money, or you want to come home, you can do it; no judgement. Oh, I wish your mom could see you..."

You bite your lip, suddenly unable to talk; a lump of emotion blocks your throat. You are happy, and grateful, that your father supports your desire to move to the capital and attend the Nefertari Institute, especially since he's so protective and you know he wished you would one day follow his footsteps and go into politics, and while you can't wait to start your classes and enjoy life in a big city, the thought of leaving him, and the house where you were born, fills you with sadness... and guilt.

"I... I will never thank you enough for everything you have done for me." you murmur, stepping closer to him to hug your father "And I'm sorry if... if I ever made it hard for you, especially after mom died. I love you very much, dad. I'll be back often to visit, I promise; and I'll miss you so much."

"I'll miss you too, my darling girl." your father answers; he's moved as well, but better than you at hiding it "But I'm so proud you're beginning your life in the world. And I hope you'll let me visit you as well."

"Of course! Every time you can."

"Good. Now, we should both go to sleep. I'll see you in the morning."

He kisses you on the forehead, and soon after he's closing the room's door behind him. You are still staring at it when, a minute later, Sanji joins you, resting his hands on your shoulders.

"Are you all right?" he asks softly; he has known you long enough to perceive what you are feeling, the love for your father and the guilt for the relationship you are carrying out behind his back, the efforts you are making to build a life for yourself away from his protective but constrictive influence and the way you'll miss him terribly and feel guilty for leaving as soon as you could.

"Yeah, just... I was just thinking."

You sigh, turning to face Sanji, desperately trying to return to the carefree joy of five minutes ago, and drive away the melancholia filling your heart. After all, it is normal for children to find their way in life away from their family, and your father is still young, dedicated to his job and career, and has many friends and a new partner he is very close to; he'll be all right, and whatever loneliness and melancholy he will feel, you know he will accept it.

"Your father is a good man." Sanji points out as you both retrieve your drinks and plates from the wardrobe you had hidden them in "He didn't even know me, but he gave me a job when I was alone in the world, and then he found me an even more prestigious one at the restaurant; every berry I ever earned I owe it to him. I'll never forget all the help he gave me."

You smile, happy to hear your friend talk well about your father. "You still have a good opinion of him even if he forbade us from being friends?"

"Well, I shouldn't resent him for that, since we never stopped seeing each other. And he only wanted to protect you, which I can understand."

You blink. "... sorry? What are you talking about?"

"Right, I... I never told you, did I?"

Sanji rubs the back of his neck, suddenly bashful. "You never wondered why your dad was suddenly against us being friends?"

You had. "Well... I thought it was because we weren't children anymore... and you a boy and I a girl..."

"Exactly, but... there was something else. When I was fourteen, I... I wrote you a letter; there was something important I needed to tell you, but I couldn't find the courage to do it in person. I left it on your pillow one day while you were in school, but your father found it... and read it."

You wait for Sanji to elaborate, but he seems focused on staring at the floor, avoiding your gaze. "It was... something inappropriate for a father to read...?"

"Nothing vulgar, if that is what you are wondering; but... it did say I wanted us to be more than friends, and this is what your father opposed, not that I was an orphan without money and prospectives, but because he thought you were too young for that sort of relationship. So... so he asked me to leave things between us as they were, and when I refused, he decided it was better to separate us, and he found me a job at the other side of town, forbidding me from contacting you again, at least until you were of age."

He looks at you, tense since he has no idea how you could react, but the truth is you don't know either. "He sent you away because he didn't want us to date?" you recapitulate in the end, flabbergasted "What would have been so wrong about that? Lots of girls get a boyfriend at fourteen, and he knew you, he knew you would treat me well..."

"Well, he's always been protective of you. Sorry, maybe I should have told you before..."

"It's ok." you reassure him, even though you are not completely sure of it yourself; you understand your father's reasons, and appreciate he didn't simply kick Sanji out in the street, but at the same time you can't believe all of it was to stop your best friend, a boy he knew posed no danger, from confessing his feelings "I... I'm so sorry, Sanji..."

"Well, it wasn't so bad; and as I said, I really don't have a reason to complain, since we did end up becoming more than friends. I felt guilty lying to your dad... but I couldn't give up on you."

He smiles, as he picks one of the flutes up from your desk again. "Now, can we please have a toast to our future?"

You do, happily enjoying your late-night snack; you delicately clink your glasses together before taking a sip, and then feed each other cake, your knees touching under the desk.

Silence has fallen on the room, and on the two of you, as usual when you are with Sanji a comfortable, peaceful silence that you don't feel the need to fill with small talk; you smile at each other, both happy and excited at the future opening in front of you... a future that you will face together as you have always done, finding strength and support in each other.

"Does chef Zeff teaches any class at the Baratie?" you ask after a while; you know the extent of Sanji's admiration for the principal of the cooking school, and it would be amazing for him to learn personally from his idol.

"Not for first-year students; but I heard that he sometimes gives one-on-one classes, if he finds a particularly talented pupil."

"... which means he'll leave all his other classes to tutor you exclusively, as soon as he tastes your True Bluefin sauté... or your salami sandwich."

Sanji smiles; he knows how much faith you have in his cooking abilities, and he never stops being grateful for it. "You're exagerrating."

"I'm not." you very seriously protest, as you clean your dish from any crumble of cake; you know watching your diet means taking care of your health, but you would happily eat three more! "A month and he'll let you skip a year or two, I promise."

"Well, if you are so sure..."

A few minutes later Sanji is putting the dirty plates and cutlery away in his backpack, while you observe the sky out of the glass door, leaning with one shoulder against the wall.

"Once we both live in the capital we won't have to hide anymore, but we'll be so busy with school..." you consider "I'm afraid we won't have a lot of time to spend together."

"Still, it will be an improvement from what we have now. And all the city's school dormitories are in the same campus, which means we can visit each other every time we want."

You nod, still pensive, and a moment later Sanji's arms are circling your waist, his chest pressed against your back.

"It's going to be all right." he murmurs, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear in a way that makes you shiver in such a pleasant way "We are going to be all right, I promise, no matter how busy we are."

"Oh, I know; believe me, I'm not doubting my feelings, or yours. We have waited for so long to be able to live our relationship in the open, and I can't wait to be able to see you every day, even for five minutes between classes or to cram together at night. It's just..."

You turn in his embrace, almost apologetic as you smile at him. "I feel so happy, as if all my dreams were coming true: attending a great school, not having to hide what we share. It is almost too good to be true; and I'm almost afraid to wake up and find out it really was just a dream."

Sanji is too kind to make fun of your fears; he considers them as he holds you close, equally aware that no matter how steadfast your feelings for each other are and even though both of you have rightfully earned admission in the schools of your dreams, you are both beginning a new chapter in life, and neither knows what future may have in store for you.

Still, it is pointless to worry about tomorrow, and Sanji decides that more than reassure you, he wants to make you forget your fears, even if just for a minute. "You know what I'm thinking about?" he asks after a minute, his tone pensive "That I've been here for at least thirty minutes, and I haven't kissed, or been kissed by, you, even once."

"Ah, that won't do."

"It really won't. So..."

He grins, happy to see you smile as well, and when he lifts your chin with his fingers you obediently close your eyes and offer him your mouth to kiss.

Almost three years have passed since your first time, in this very room, and kissing Sanji still makes your heart tremble; he is sweet but passionate, not aggressive but intense enough to leave no doubt about his feelings, and his intentions. You enjoy the feeling of his mouth on yours for a moment before kissing him back, Sanji's lips hot against yours; you feel him smile, his hands now holding you by the waist while yours gently caress his hair and neck.

"Gods, you taste so good..."

"It's the cake, Sanji."

"No, it's not. You are delicious, (name); absolutely... mesmerizing..."

You keep kissing for a while, as your hands start moving on each other's body; Sanji whispers your name, suddenly breathless, as your mouth descends towards his neck, at first gently pecking at the delicate skin of his throat, and then sucking hard enough to make him moan.

"(name)..." he murmurs again, and you smile, circling his hips with your arms; you nuzzle at his chest, the soft fabric of his shirt so familiar and comforting against your skin, and wish you could stay like this forever.

You feel Sanji's hands move on your hips and back, his fingers brushing against the hem of your skirt.

"I like this one." he murmurs in your ear; he is aware of the effect he has on you and exploits it mercilessly "Is it new?"

"Made it myself." you answer proudly; you had seen the skirt on a fashion magazine, and rather than buying it you had decided to see whether you could recreate it "Does it look good on me?"

"You look absolutely ravishing, my darling..."

And ravish is exactly what Sanji seems intent on doing; a minute later your back is pressed against the wall, with a very handsome, very amorous young chef intent on making you forget your very name.

Sanji's back and shoulder muscles are taut under your hands as they run all over his body, like a beautiful clay statue molded by your touch; you can feel his heart pounding against your chest, the tenseness in his body as he tries to restrain himself in order not to unsettle you, not to take more than what you would be ready to offer. Dear Sanji, you think fondly as you arch your back to press your chest against his and finally, finally feel his hands grab at your buttocks, don't you know at this point you don't even have to ask?

Sanji's jacket is the first item of clothing to go, falling on the closest chair after you helped him take it off; he returns the courtesy freeing you from the heavy sweater you wear, leaving you with a tight camisole, the different colour of your bra visible under it. He smiles, clearly appreciating the view, but a moment later his expression turns serious, almost reverent, as he gazes at you, almost as if he couldn't believe he's really holding you in his arms.

"I love you so much, you know that?" he murmurs, and no matter how many times he has already uttered those words, you know how deeply he means them, how utterly and hopelessly devoted he is to you and to what you hope to build together. To be the object of such an intense ardor is... humbling, since you're not quite sure you deserve it, and you could even feel guilty for it, if your feelings for Sanji were not equally deep and strong. You don't remember a day in which you didn't love him, ever since he risked your father's ire (and, consequently, the job he had just gotten) to feed you, there has always been a special place for him in your heart, a place no one else could ever occupy; Sanji is the other half of you, someone who you don't need in order to live but who you want to share your life with. Without him you could go on; but you know you'll never feel complete ever again.

And to express everything you feel -all the love, the joy that fills your heart when he's by your side and the hopes you cherish for your future together- you are unable to say more than...

"I love you too, Sanji."

... and that is more than a little frustrating.

You know what you share goes beyond physical attraction, but you can't deny it is flattering, and exciting, to know you can have that sort of effect on Sanji, a man attractive and charming enough he would have no troubles attracting a date; you sometimes think about the girls he meets at work, or the clients he could easily flirt with when he has to cover for a waiter at the restaurant, but you know he is being sincere when he swears you're the only one he cares about, and that he has never betrayed your trust. On the other hand, you are not good with words and Sanji doesn't care for expensive gifts, which makes you fear, sometimes, you could do more to prove how much you care for him, and how committed you are to your relationship; the truth is, you love him so much, a feeling deeper and more encompassing than anything you thought you would be able to feel, that you lack the words to express it, and any declaration, no matter how grandiose or romantic, would fall short of your actual feelings.

Then, you suddenly realize, maybe you shouldn't tell him; after all, like your father always says, actions do speak louder than words...

Sanji's stares, eyes wide open, as he sees you take off your camisole. A moment later, he hurries to unbutton your shirt, and you move to help him, and somehow, maybe because you're in a hurry or because your hands are shaking, you tear off a button.

"Oh, Gods..." you stutter, embarrassment filling you "I'm so sorry, I... I'll sew it back on, I promise..."

Sanji shakes his head, as if to say you needn't worry; he is a sight to behold, short of breath, his usually pale complexion turned pink with excitement - with lust. He looks at you, he looks at your hands still holding the two panels of his shirt, and orders:

"Tear it off."

"... what?"

"Rip it off me. (name), please, I want you to undress me."

"Are... are you sure?" you ask again; the idea is more than a little exciting, but the experienced seamstress and future fashion designer in you hesitates at the thought of ruining a perfectly serviceable item of clothing.

Sanji grins, desire and affection filling his brown eyes. "Yeah, sure; it's an old one. Please, darling..."

"As you wish..."

A sound of tearing and ripping fills the room, and a moment later Sanji's shirt, now missing every single of its buttons and irreparably damaged, lies on the floor, while he's naked from the waist up - and Gods, just looking at him is enough to make you forget any hesitancy you may have... including the ones regarding the presence of your father, in his bedroom at the other hand of the corridor.

He smiles, more than aware of the effect he's having on you, as he shamelessly stares back at your body. "Come here, my beauty." he invites you, and a moment later he has taken you in his arms once again, your hands moving on each other's newly exposed skin.

"Let's move to the bed." you propose in a whisper between kisses, and laugh softly as Sanji hurriedly picks you up, bridal style, to carry you and delicately lay you down on the light blue sheets of your bed. A minute to take off your shoes, and he has joined you; you are kissing again as he makes quick work of your bra's clasp, but Sanji stops to admire you, lying under him, and for a moment he seems unable to speak.

"You are so beautiful." he murmurs; he looks you in the eyes, to gauge your reaction and make sure he's not overstepping, before letting his hand brush against and then close around your breast "My (name)... I've waited for this moment since I was maybe twelve, you know?"

"You could have told me before."

"A gentleman never asks, he waits for the lady to offer."

You smile, shamelessly enjoying the sensuality of his touch, the delicious sensation of Sanji's warm hands caressing and stimulating and gently squeezing the warm flesh of your chest; he sees you jolt when the pad of his thumb finds your nipple, and smiles, and you smile with him.

"Well, this lady is offering." you point out a moment later; you want there to be no doubt or ambiguity about what you want "I want you, Sanji. Will you make love to me?"

Unexpectedly, and while you can see the desire in his eyes as he looks at you, he hesitates. "You know we don't have to do it." he softly points out "You don't... owe me anything; I don't want you to think this is something we need to do in order to make our relationship last, or since we have been together for a while..."

"I know. I... I just want to live this with you; I want you to be my first, as well the last. I want you, and I'm tired of hiding it."

"(name), I..."

"Sanji, please."

That last word, as well as the tone you utter it in, being begged to take you in his arms and make you scream, would make even the most dispassionate man forget himself, and Sanji is far from that. In a whisper, he asks you to lift your hips, and takes both your skirt and panties off; he licks his lips as he looks at you, as if anticipating what he is going to do to you, and delicately lifts your foot in his hands. His first kiss is placed on your ankle, and then the second at the bottom at your calf, and the third a bit above it, and then on your knee and on your thigh until Sanji is lying on the bed between your open legs, and the sensation of his tongue and hips doing magic on the most hidden part of you is so delicious, so lurid and at the same time heavenly, you have to press your hand to your mouth to keep yourself from screaming. You can feel the wave mounting inside you, and you couldn't stop it even if you wanted to, and a minute later your first real orgasm hits you, and you are shaking in Sanji's grasp as he licks you like a man starved, proud and excited by the pleasure he was able to give you.

Your eyes meet above your heaving chest; you are both smiling, breathless. "That was... amazing." you whisper, and Sanji grins as he reaches to kiss you once more, neither bothering about the taste.

"We have just started." he assures you "Will you help me with my clothes, darling?"

He stands from the bed to let you take his trousers off, smiling softly as he sees how your hands shake; a moment later he's finally naked, and you can't help gulping as you gently take his erection in your hand, heavy and hard. You swallow, and instinctively lower your face to it to lick the tip.

Sanji jumps. "Shit..."

"I'm sorry, I thought... that was ok..." you stammer, suddenly alarmed "Did I hurt you?"

"Hurt?" he repeats, completely breathless, as if he had never heard that word before "Quite... quite the opposite. I... (name), I..."

He can't find the words to describe what he wants, but thank God you know it already, and this is miles beyond what you had already experience in, but you must be naturally talented, or perhaps this is one of those things you simply know how to do. You keep Sanji's eyes in yours as you take his erection in your mouth, swallowing it almost to the base and using your lips, your tongue and even (cautiously) your teeth to give him pleasure; he moans, bucking his hips, his hands caressing your hair.

"God... you're so good, baby... you take me so well..."

Emboldened, you wish you could make him climax with your mouth, but Sanji asks you to stop after a while, smiling as he sees you pout. "As much as I love the feeling of your mouth, there is somewhere else I'd rather come." he tell you as he cleans your lips with his fingers "Let me take care of you."

A silent nod is the only answer you feel able to give, and the only one Sanji needed; your hand guides him back on the bed where, a slight and natural awkwardness covered by your kisses, Sanji lies above you, gently caressing your hair as he lifts your leg above his hips.

"I love you." you murmur; you feel barely able to breathe, but those words easily leave your lips, as natural as a breath "Sanji, let me be with you forever."

He smiles, pressing his forehead to yours; he isn't inside you yet, but the intimacy of that moment goes beyond what you could describe in words, the marvelous feeling of being one, a closeness born from love and passion and trust and empathy. You doubt you will ever feel anyone as close as Sanji is in that moment, and that makes you happy.

"Nothing and no one will ever come between us." he murmurs "I promise."

*****

You spend what feels like hours locked in an embrace, exchanging lazy but hot kisses as your hands explore each other's body. Your fondling makes Sanji grow turgid once more, and he has to use your pillow to suffocate his screaming (yes, screaming) as you do get to make him come in your mouth; he gets even a minute later when you both find out that you really enjoy your chest being sucked, which Sanji does until you are a moaning mess, begging for mercy, and he has to gift you your third orgasm, this time using his fingers, to make you calm down.

This night is perfect; this night feels as if it would never end. Unfortunately, this is not the case, and an hour before dawn, after he risked for the second time to fall asleep with his cheek pressed against your chest and your fingers in his hair, Sanji reluctantly abandons the warmth of your bed, and of your body, to get dressed. You both know it can't be helped; if your father discovered him in your bed, even now that you are an adult and about to go live on your own, the consequences would be catastrophic.

"Things will be different once we have moved to the capital." you reassure him as you pick up what is left of his shirt to throw it away "I want my dad to visit, but we can tell him we met again on campus and decided to date; he does like you, and he'll accept I am old enough to have a boyfriend."

"I hope he will." Sanji considers, as he ties his shoes; he hesitates for a moment, and then: "What if I wanted to tell him the truth?"

"You mean...?"

"About us, yes. I could have never given up on you, (name), but I didn't like lying to your father; I owe him so much, and I'd like give his blessing to our relationship. Don't you?"

Nothing would make you happier, even though, you must admit, the prospect of having to confess you have deliberately disobeyed him for five years is not pleasant; you love your father, and the last thing you have ever wanted was to disappoint him, even though there is no price you wouldn't have paid if it meant being with Sanji. You admire the fact your boyfriend wants to be honest with his benefactor, and you need - no, you want to be as brave as he is.

"Then we will tell him."

"Are you sure?"

"I am. It's not going to be pretty, and I know he'll be very angry, but he deserves the truth. We all do." you point out with a sigh; then, seeing Sanji is almost done getting dressed: "Wait..."

You stand as well, and walk to the mannequin wearing the men's shirt, an elegant light blue model with white collar and cuffs. You return to Sanji to offer him the shirt. "Here, wear this."

"... are you sure?"

"Of course, I had planned to give it to you to celebrate your admission to the Baratie. Try it on, let me see how it looks on you."

It looks great, even though it is perhaps more because of Sanji's good looks and physique than anything else; he carefully buttons it, and happily looks at himself in the full-length mirror. "My favourite tie will go perfectly with this."

"I know, why do you think I chose this colour?"

Naked as you are, you don't feel cold, especially as you feel Sanji's gaze lingering on your body as his brown eyes admire the flesh he has lost himself in just two hours ago, but that he's not yet sated by.

Soon, your smile tells him as you return the gaze, committing the beauty of his lithe but strong body to memory, as soon as we have moved to our dormitories, or as soon as my father has to leave for one of his work trips. I want you again too; I think I'll never stop wanting you.

As usual Sanji seems to understand you without the need for words, because he smiles once more and, as soon as he is done admiring himself in the mirror (which you cannot blame him for; the shirt does look amazing on him!) he takes your face in his hands to kiss you once more. "I am so happy." he murmurs "Happy we got to share this moment. I... I do want to be with you forever, but..."

"... but you are happy I was your first, and you mine. I know, Sanji; I feel the same."

You spend a precious minute like this, your foreheads touching, your fingers intertwined, as you breathe in each other's air and savour that new form of intimacy. In this moment, you are not afraid Sanji can doubt your feelings anymore; but in any case, you promise yourself, you'll still make sure he knows how much you love him, every day from now to eternity.

In the end, it's time for your boyfriend to go. He takes his backpack and insists you put your nightgown on, in case one of the neighbours looks out of their windows, before you accompany him on the balcony, where a last kiss sees him climb over the parapet and cautiously reach the tree's closest branches.

"Thanks for the cake! It was really delicious."

Sanji winks at you, mischievousness dancing in his eyes. "I think you thanked me enough already."

"Oh, you are so vulgar..."

Your laugh follows him as Sanji quickly climbs down the tree, finally reaching the ground safe and sound; he looks up at you and waves, and you wave back, and "I'll be back soon; I promise." he says, and you nod as he starts walking away, and remain where you are until Sanji has disappeared, hidden in the murmuring darkness surrounding the villa.

#One Piece #One Piece Live Action #OPLA #Sanji #Vinsmoke Sanji #Black Leg Sanji x reader l #Black Leg Sanji #Sanji x reader #Vinsmoke Sanji x reader #Black Leg Sanji x reader #Taz Skylar #Bellona's stuff

[theoreticslut]

「 your kiss is on my list 」

eddie munson x fem reader

summary: a little game of truth or dare leads to lots of shock, a not jealous eddie, and your first kiss.

requested: no

word count: 2.7k

warnings: alcohol use/mentions of being drunk, slight playboy steve (early s1 personality), jealousy, pet names (honey, angel, & princess), bed sharing, fluff

a/n: if you don’t know by now, i love eddie munson so fucking much. i’m literally getting ideas for him daily. i hope you like this & if you’ve got an idea you’d like to see written, feel free to send it to me! Xx

title insp. from kiss on my list by daryl hall & john oates

“Oh my god!”

“Gross!”

“You’re a pig, Harrington.” Robin’s voice cuts through the rest of yours as he and Eddie laugh at the confession.

Needing time and friendships away from the little group of 15-year olds you’ve all somehow adopted, the five of you - Steve, Nancy, Robin, Eddie, and yourself - have started having weekly get-togethers. Sometimes you’ll all sit around and watch movies as you munch on junk food, and other times you’ll have a makeshift house party/game night like tonight.

“You asked for the truth!” Steve laughs, taking a swig of his beer as an amused smile settles on his face.

“You didn’t need to be so detailed. We’re not drunk enough for that yet.” You groan, trying to clear the mental image your brain cruelly created.

“That’s not my fault.”

“You’re right. It’s not your fault that you’re a complete lightweight.” 

“Hey! Not a lightweight.” He defends, slightly pouting as he points at you.

“Yeah, he’s not a lightweight, honey. You just don’t drink enough.” Eddie pipes in, slinging an arm around your shoulders as he stands behind you, having gotten up to get himself another drink.

“Are you really going to make me the villain here, Eds? Just because I’m not a borderline alcoholic like the rest of you?” 

At your cocked brow, all Eddie can do is smile, chuckling as he shakes his head, pulling you against his chest as you sit on a stool at the counter jutting out into his living room.

After the events of spring break, the two of you have become quick friends, having spent a good majority of the six months that have passed together. The rest of the group - especially the younger kids - love to tease the two of you for how quick you became “friends” - as they like to put it. 

You don’t mind though. You really enjoy having Eddie around, and it’s not like you haven’t had little thoughts of him from time to time. It’s just that you’re friends, and you’re perfectly fine with that.

“Of course not. I’m just trying to get you to drink more, princess.” He smirks as you roll your eyes at him.

“Get me a drink and maybe I will.” You challenge, meeting his eyes as you do.

“Alright, alright. Let’s get back to pl-aying the game!” Robin almost whines, hiccuping as she does so.

“Steeeeve, you get to ask someone.” She giggles, definitely drunk at this point in the night.

“Alright. Y/n, truth or dare?” Steve questions, and you pretend to think about it for a moment.

“Hmm, I guess I’ll go truth.”

“What was your first kiss like?” 

At the question, you can feel Eddie turn his attention to you, apparently being curious of the question himself as he hands you a drink.

“Gonna have to give me another question, Harrington. I don’t have an answer for that one.” You chuckle airily, popping the tab open on the can before taking a sip.

“You don’t have an answer? How come?”

“Have you not had your first kiss?!” Nancy gasps, drawing a hand to her mouth as she watches you.

At her question you feel everyone look at you as a silence settles over the room, waiting for an answer as you sip on the beer Eddie brought you.

“Why do you all look so shocked?”

“Because you’re like…you. How have you never been kissed?” Steve questions, completely mind blown at the knowledge. 

“Because I haven’t….?” You question, not sure what other response there is. 

Looking around at everyone, you find that they’re all still in stages of shock or confusion.

“I volunteer to be your first.” Steve comments, filter gone with even the tiniest bit of alcohol. 

“Like hell you will.” Eddie snaps, glaring at the jock.

“Why not? I’ve been told I’m a great kisser.”

“He is.” Nancy mumbles, giggling in her drunkenness.

“See?” The prior ‘king’ points out, a slight air of smugness to him as Eddie grinds his teeth.

“Because her first kiss should be with someone she actually likes, Harrington.” Eddie scoffs.

“But she likes me. Don’t you like me, y/n?” 

“Someone as more than a friend, asshole.” 

“If she’s comfortable with me, though, wouldn’t that be more important than ki-“ Steve starts to question before Eddie cuts him off, the two arguing about the topic as if you weren’t even there.

“Shut the fuck up or i’ll make you shut up. She’s not going to kiss you.” 

As Eddie talks, you feel him step closer to you, as if trying to protect you.

“What’s it to you anywa-wait, are you jealous?” Steve asks, mouth agape as he scoffs humorously.

“I’m not jealous.”

“Sure you’re not, bud.” 

“I’m not. I just don’t think she should be kissing you.” Eddie states.

“Besides, I don’t think Nancy would appreciate your lips on someone else’s.”

As the two boys argue with each other, you look to Nancy and Robin, who just seem amused. 

If anyone had asked you four hours earlier how a game of truth or dare would turn into a discussion of who your first kiss should be, you’d have no answer, having thought it impossible. Sitting here, though, you realize how absolutely nothing is impossible for this little group.

“Hey, buttheads! The only one who has any say in who y/n’s first kiss will be is y/n. Yeah?” Robin questions, cutting the two guys off from their argument.

“I would hope so.” You retort, looking up at Eddie as he hovers over your shoulder, still glaring at Steve as he grinds his teeth.

“Yeah. Yeah. I’m serious though; I’ll happily be your first kiss if you want me to be.” Steve states, sitting back on the couch as Eddie lets out a tense breath.

“I’ll let you know if that day ever comes.” 

He nods, taking a big gulp of his beer, finishing the can as Eddie turns his attention to you.

“Do you want another beer?” 

“Nah, I’m alright, Eds. I’ve still got some.” You smile, shaking your can to show it’s still about halfway full.

“Alright.” He mumbles, smiling lightly as he releases a deep breath, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as he stands to the side of you.

~.~

“Bye guys! I’ll see you later. Be safe!” You call, waving to your three friends as they climb into Steve’s car, leaving you and Eddie to yourselves in his trailer.

Watching them drive away, you turn to close the door but stumble over your feet.

“Careful, honey.” Eddie states as you giggle, righting yourself up again and closing the door.

“I’m good, Eds. Promise.”

“You’re not drunk are you? We were up all night the last time you got drunk.” He questions, hoping you’re only tipsy. 

Even though he knows he’d stay up with you all night again, listening to you ramble about whatever crosses your mind, giggling as you slur your thoughts to him, he’d much rather get some sleep.

“Not drunk. Just tipsy and tired, Eds.” 

“Alright, angel, if you say so. Let’s get to bed, yeah?”

He watches as you nod, smiling softly before you shuffle across the room to him. Chuckling lightly, he slings an arm around your waist to help guide you to the bedroom where you’ve stayed plenty of times before.

“Hey, Eddie?”

“Yeah?”

“You got a shirt I could borrow? I didn’t think to bring pjs.” You pout, looking over to him with sad eyes.

“Course I do, princess.” He chuckles, digging through his dresser to find a clean shirt. He’s definitely got to do laundry this weekend.

“Here you are, honey.” 

As you turn to him, he tosses you a black tee shirt, some metal band logo on the front of it. It’s worn, the band’s logo faded and crinkled in spots, but you don’t think you’ve ever felt anything softer. 

“Thanks, Eds. Be right back.” You lazily smile, making your way over to the small bathroom.

While you’re gone, Eddie changes into pajamas of his own - the only time he wears them. Typically he’d just sleep in his boxers, possibly with a tee on, but he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. Hence why he found himself digging out the few pairs of cotton bottoms he had stuffed in one of the bottom drawers of his dresser the first night you had stayed over.

You’re also the reason he’s been washing his sheets more often, not wanting you to be sleeping on a dirty bed. He may have only known you a handful of months, but he’s almost completely changed his habits at home on the chance that you’d be over.

He’s tidying up his bed as you come back in from the bathroom, his shirt hanging on your frame, just long enough to cover you. He can’t help but notice how much of your thighs are on show though, gulping lightly as he tries not to stare.

You’ve never been anything but beautiful in his eyes, even from the first time he set eyes on you back in the boathouse, wild with fear as he held a broken bottle to Steve’s neck. In all honesty, half the reason Dustin was able to talk him down was because he was so focused on you, wanting to know who you were and why you were here, looking for him of all people.

You’re the reason he dove into the lake back when all five of you ended up in the upside down. You had been friends with Nancy before all of this came about, and as soon as she dove in after Steve, you were diving in after her to make sure she wasn’t doing anything more stupid than diving into murky waters to save her ex - whom she still has feelings for - as he was being pulled under. 

Although you had called him stupid for following all of you into the water, he had done so for the same reasons, having wanted to make sure you were safe. Not that he needed to worry, though, as he found out when you fearlessly fought demobats off from the five of you.

If Steve thought he’d get your first kiss, he’s dead wrong. Why would he get your first kiss when he’s always been too focused on Nancy. Eddie’s the one who’s always had eyes for you. 

“Eds, you ready for bed?” You question, pulling him from his thoughts where he realizes you’ve been waiting for him.

“Yeah. Sorry…zoned out.”

“I noticed.” You giggle, crawling into the bed as he gets himself settled.

As you situate yourself into the bed beside him, a silence falls between the two of you where his mind continues to race.

“You’ve really never kissed anyone before?” He questions, still not believing it.

“Why is that so hard to believe?” 

“It’s not. It’s just, surprising. Like Steve said, you’re…you.” 

“What does that even mean?” You chuckle, looking over to him with lightly furrowed brows.

“You’re pretty. Like really pretty, and you’re so fucking cool. You’re kind, and warm, and so good with the younger kids, but you also kick ass. You’re just…amazing.” 

“But people like Steve just see that you’re pretty and find that good enough.” Eddie huffs, jaw setting as he juts his lip out.

If you weren’t trying to calm him down, you’d find his angry little pout adorable, but you can’t focus on that right now.

“Hey - look at me.” You coax, turning onto your side to face him.

“Why are you all upset, Eds?”

“Because people like Steve shouldn’t be your first kiss. He just wants to kiss you, and that’s not right. You deserve to have your first kiss with someone who actually likes you, you know?”

“That so?”

“Yeah. I mean, at this point you shouldn’t just go for anyone. Go for someone that’s going to want more than just a kiss.”

“It's cute when you’re jealous, Eddie.” You smile, loving how he stutters and pouts at your words.

“I-I’m not jealous. You can kiss whoever you want.”

“If you say so…you have nothing to worry about, though, Eds. I won’t be kissing Steve anytime soon.”

“If I were to kiss someone, it’d be you.” You state, smiling to yourself as he nods, sighing in relief at your first statement as he’s a little behind. You can see his brain pause as your words slowly sink in.

By the time he’s turning his attention to you, though, you’re already turned away from him.

“Say that again?”

“If I were to kiss someone, it’d be you, dumbass.” 

“Are you saying-“

“That I like you? Kind of.” You chuckle, glancing at him over your shoulder as his brain works through your words.

When they all finally process, all he does I stare at you in shock, with a little bit of confusion thrown in. You like him? Like actually like him? And you want to kiss him?

“Wh-what does this-?” He questions, wondering what this means and where things are going right now.

“I think you should kiss me. If you like me, that is. If you don’t then it’s-oh!” You half gasp, half moan as his lips find yours.

Registering the fact that he’s kissing you, you find yourself relaxing into the mattress, letting your lips follow his.

“You talk too much sometimes.” He mumbles, barely a centimeter of space between your lips.

“No more than you do.”

“At least I’ve never told you to kiss me and then kept talking as if you wouldn’t. Just tell me to kiss you and shut up so I can.” 

“Kiss me again then, but don’t stop.” You challenge, just wanting to feel his lips on yours.

Upon first meeting Eddie, you can’t say you were immediately enamored by him. You more so just felt sorry for him for everything that had happened, knowing how terrifying your first experience with the upside down shit is. 

As you and the group helped him though, talking to him as he tagged along, you found yourself being amazed by him. Between the way he would joke around, the way he looked out for the young boys, the way he fought even though he was terrified, and the way he cared for you even though he’d only just met you, you found yourself seeing him in a whole new light. One that slowly had you falling in love.

It wasn’t until after the fact, though, when the two of you started hanging out frequently that you truly fell for him. You got to see all the different sides of him from how passionate he was about Dungeons and Dragons to how peaceful he got when playing his guitar, even to how much he truly was a teddy bear by nature. 

He was everything you ever wanted in a partner, and it was even better that he was insanely attractive with his wild hair and big, chocolate-y eyes. How could you not end up falling for him?

“Your lips are so soft, honey.” Eddie murmurs, forehead resting on yours as he smiles against your lips, eyes closed.

“I think yours are softer.” You smile, running your thumb over his cheek as you look up at him.

“Not in the slightest.”

At his chuckle, you can feel your heart race as a soft smile finds a place on your lips. It takes a moment longer before he pulls away from you just enough to look over your face, admiring each and every feature.

“You know, I think I just might love you.”  He comments, watching your smile deepen as you shy away from his words.

“I think I just might love you, too, Eds.”

With your admission, a smile grows on his face before he’s leaning back down to you, pressing his lips to yours in a needy - yet loving - kiss. There’s nothing that could make the two of you happier right now when you’re curled up together, lips molding with each other’s as you let every unspoken admiration leave your body wordlessly. 

Every kiss only solidifies the silent admission that you are his and he is yours, and nothing could possibly be better than that.

-------------------------------------------------

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#stranger things #stranger things fanfic #st fanfic #stranger things fluff #st fluff #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff

[oathkeeperoxas]

Hello, my friend! 44 or 71 for Icemav, if you're still warming up? <3<3<3

ELWEN yesssss going wild for this one. Forehead press my number 1, you will always be famous to me

71. lingering forehead against forehead, consumed by each other and barely having enough strength to breathe

The call comes at 6:43pm.

Ice lets it ring for three trills, still in that limbo of not knowing. Dead, or not dead? And the less important question of if the mission was a success or not. These two things are not related to each other. A successful mission could still mean a dead pilot. If that's the case, then he's already living in a world without Maverick Mitchell. If that's the case, then he has five more seconds of not knowing about it, before the knowledge sinks its teeth into him, inescapable.

He picks the phone up. He's has a lifetime of doing the hard work, making the terrible choices that no one else wants to make. He can't avoid this forever, and he wouldn't want to, so he puts the phone to his ear and listens, and when he puts it down he has to lean his elbows onto his desk, face in his hands. Gut swooping like he's just pulled an emergency barrel roll and hadn't had the chance to prepare for it. Sick, like he's grown so used to over his treatment, sick, like he's really going to throw up. But he's had a lot of practice with this too, so he swallows it all down neatly enough. There's still work to do, maybe more work, now that they'll have to switch to soothing Russia's ruffled feathers at having their sovereignty impinged upon. Mav and Bradley won't be back in the country for another day at least. He has plenty to do to fill the time until then.

The seconds tick past, and the minutes dribble through his fingers, and the hour hand on his watch inevitably ticks forward. He gets into a shouting match with the SECDEF and is called into conference with the JCS and watches as updates on the pilots who flew the mission trickle into his inbox. Mav's medical report is last, which means he only nibbles on dinner, a bad habit that Mav would scold him for. Ice would take it, would take any words from him, as long as he he here to speak them.

He works through the night and gets to sleep somewhere about quarter to five, and is back at his computer before ten. Mav's report has come in, and while it doesn't look great, it's not all bad news. He's walking under his own power, and while injured, apparently isn't in too much pain. Ice holds his own reservations about that. Mav's never enjoyed telling an authority figure everything. Ice will get the truth out of him when they see each other next.

All the pilots are in flight back to North Island, which means they're out of contact even if Ice wanted to reach out, which he doesn't. This isn't the first time that Mav has been on a mission and Ice has been able to do nothing but wait for him to come home. He prefers to wait to see Mav in person before they talk to each other. It's better that way.

He fends off orders to fly to Washington, at least delaying until tomorrow or the day after, and makes up for it by sitting on conferences all afternoon while typing away furiously at the dozens of emails that have landed in his inbox. Everything is a flurry of activity, everything needs his attention now, and yet he puts everything aside when he sees that the transport has landed at North Island, and that all the pilots have been taken for debriefing, except for the two who spent time on the ground, who have been shuttled to the base hospital. Ice packs up his laptop and notifies his driver, and is on the road immediately.

He's not in uniform, so manages to fly mostly under the radar until he hits the two Marines standing guard outside Mav's hospital room, who only give way when they recognise him. Ice bids them to wait outside, and closes the door behind him when he enters. There's a curtain that's hiding most of Mav from his sight; the only part of him that Ice can see are his feet, which are bare. His toes are poking out from the side of the blanket that Mav has thrown over him, and Ice is hit with a wave of emotion that's as irrational as it is powerful -- Mav's feet are uninjured. His toes are okay. He can see that. It makes it hard to breathe, and he steadies himself before stepping forward, not wanting to cough and worry his partner. This is not a moment for Mav to be worried about Ice.

"Did you bring me some real clothes?" Mav grumbles. "I'm not wearing this. This is an attack on decency. I'm fine. I don't need to be here. Who do I have to speak to, to go home?"

Ice closes his eyes and musters himself after that volley. Then he moves forward under full sail, to stand at the end of Mav's bed and lay a hand on his ankle.

"I didn't bring you any clothes," Ice rumbles, voice hoarse from all the speaking he's been putting it through today. "And you can come home when the doctors say you can leave."

"Ice," Mav says, eyes wide, and Ice can't stay away from him anymore. Mav is already struggling to sit up, and Ice sits on the bed and ropes his arms around him, lashing them together. Mav makes a low sound, torn somewhere from deep in his chest, and presses their heads against each other. Ice tilts them so their foreheads are together, noses and mouths close, breathing the same air. "Ice," Mav repeats, desperate, and Ice wants to squeeze him and never let him go for scaring Ice so badly, for coming to him in the first place and asking to do this, for daring to get shot down and for making Ice receive the news that he's dead, only to be told that he'd pulled off the impossible--

Ice presses a palm to Mav's neck to feel his pulse, and they're both gasping against each other, clinging like they're at sea and the other is their lifeboat. Like lovers to be parted on the morrow. Like they'll never get another day quite like this one.

"You scared the shit out of me," Ice manages, and Mav barks a laugh through his tears.

"You're telling me," Mav manages, cupping a hand on Ice's cheek and wiping away the wetness under his eyes. "I was pretty scared myself."

"The kid?" Ice asks.

"He's better than me. Young bones, and all that."

Ice can hardly breathe. He pulls away to clear his throat, and then comes back to lay his head on Mav's shoulder and press his face into Mav's throat. Mav's hand rests on the back of his neck. There's still so much to do. Ice can feel the weight of his emails piling up in his inbox. But he can put off making the hard decisions for an hour. He can let himself be human for an hour. Mav's arms have the power to protect him. He hasn't lost that privilege. He hasn't lost Mav.

"If you think I'm letting you do anything like that ever again--"

Mav laughs. "Yeah, yeah. I know. I used that one favour up. Won't happen again. We're even now -- how about we don't do that to each other again, yeah?"

It's good he's sitting down. The dizzying relief would have forced him to anyway. He lays a kiss over Mav's pulse.

"I don't think cancer and flying into a deathtrap are particularly equivalent," Ice grits out. "But I'm willing to overlook that if you are."

Mav cradles him gently, laying kisses against his crown. "Sounds like a plan to me."

Ice sighs and sits up. "Are you okay?" he asks. "I know you've been lying to try and get out of here faster."

Mav sniffs, pretending to be offended. "They're not falling for it," he says plaintively.

"Good. Start telling them how you really feel. I'm not going anywhere, anytime soon."

"Yeah?" Mav asks, looking up at him.

"Yeah," Ice says softly. "Gotta keep an eye on my troublemakers."

Mav's eyes crinkle into his familiar smile, and Ice is home, home, home.

A hundred different kisses prompt list

#cyclone is keeping everyone inside today so writing time #icemav #iceman #maverick #top gun #tg #mine #my writing #forehead to forehead really be my number 1 weakness and yes i blame robin hobb for it

[heartateasee]

"Chapter Two"

Word Count: 5.6k

(Chapter two to “Cherry Bomb” - please make sure to read the TW on the “Cherry Bomb” masterlist before proceeding.)

●・○・●・○・●

Today marks a month since my hometown show, which also means I’ve been back in LA officially for the same amount of time. I hadn’t really been out much since being here considering there was still a lot of rearranging to do with my house. For starters, it took a few weeks to get my home recording studio completely set up the way I needed it. I had also painted a lot of the walls, and worked on getting my patio to look like an oasis. 

My home was finally feeling like just that…home.

It’s been a while since I’ve had that feeling considering I was bouncing from place to place while touring - sleeping each night either in the van as we drove to another location, or a hotel if we had the time.

Having a place to call my own now is so refreshing. It finally feels like I’m settling down somewhere for the first time since I left home to pursue music. I’ve managed to make it completely me, and I’m proud of myself for that.

Another reason why I think I threw myself into renovating my house so much was due to the fact that I had seen Harry again. After five years, I saw someone who I had tried my hardest to forget.

But the sad thing was, it still wasn’t him.

I’ve made peace with the fact that my Harry is truly gone, and to be honest, I think it’s helped me push forward a bit when it comes to that healing. People really are telling the truth when they say sometimes you never properly heal - the pain just dulls. I think that’s how it will always be when it comes to the loss of Harry.

There’s nothing like speaking about someone as if they were dead when they’re still very much alive.

Regardless of me not really taking the time to see how things had changed in LA, I made myself a promise that today I’d be remedying that. I want to try to go and look for a few additional art pieces for both my living room and bathroom, and I also want to see if the old record store I used to shop at was still open.

That record store holds a lot of memories for me, and I hope to see that it’s still the same.

Looking at myself in the full length mirror in my room, I tug on a pair of black flared corduroys - pairing them with my trusty black platform Dr. Martens. I pull on a black tank top and tuck it into the waistband of my trousers before pulling on a black mesh top over that. I give myself a small nod as I fluff up my hair that I had already done, and I give my makeup one more glance as I head out of my bedroom.

With my small black purse over my shoulder, and my keys in my hand, I make my way outside and into my car. I start towards town, and I make the decision to go looking for some vinyls first since that’s what I’m most excited about.

As I drive, I take in the scenery around me, and I can see that there’s obviously been a lot of build up in the area since I was last living here. More apartment buildings, houses and shopping centers. It was the same, but it wasn’t - much like myself now that I’ve returned.

I feel a smile tug onto my lips as I see the sign for the record store, and I can’t help but let out a small laugh when I realize that’s thankfully one of the things that hasn’t changed at all. Pulling into the parking lot, I park and get out while feeling the giddiness in my stomach that at least something has remained the same.

The same old bell chimes as I step in the front door, and I look over to see there’s no one behind the counter currently. I can’t help but stop in my tracks as I look at it - covered with various bands stickers and doodles, it brings me right back to when I would come in here almost every day the summer after highschool.

“There she is!” Harry's voice bellows as I walk into the record store with a bag of Taco Bell in my hand - a drink carrier in the other. “And she brings me food?”

He dramatically looks up at the sky with his hands pressed together as if he were praying. “I don’t know what I did for whoever is up there to give me Marlowe Finch as my best friend, but I could kiss your ass right now for doing so.”

I can’t help but giggle at his words as I shake my head, and I make my way over to the counter. After making sure the bag and drinks are secure on the surface, I also push myself up onto it before dishing out the food.

“I got you the Mexican pizza combo with a Baja Blast,” I tell him as I pull out the box as well as setting his drink down by him. I make sure I also give him the taco that comes with it. “Oh, and I got you chips and cheese!”

I can feel Harry watching my every move as I set our food up for the two of us, and I look over to him once I finish - feeling my cheeks flush a bit. “What?”

Harry shakes his head as his bunny teeth clamp down on his bottom lip. “Nothing, just so lucky to have you - that’s all.”

“And I’m lucky to have you,” I don’t hesitate to say it back as I lift a hand up to fix the backwards hat he currently has on. He was growing his hair out, but was insistent on wearing hats. He looks like a true frat boy, which is a thing I always give him shit over. “Going to a party or something after your shift? You’re a little more dressed up than usual.”

“Yeah, one of the guys who’s in a local band invited me. He comes in here a lot to put up flyers for their gigs, and he said they’re having a pretty big house party,” Harry shrugs as he pulls the wrapper off his taco, slathering it with sauce before taking a massive bite.

I make a face as I watch him eat, and he reaches out to pinch my hip - eliciting a squeal from me.

“You don’t have to eat it like a starved animal, you know? It’s not going anywhere,” I tease with a wink as I bite into a piece of my chicken quesadilla. “But a house party sounds fun. Do you need me to pick you up later once you’re ready to leave it?”

“You know I’m not going to be drinking,” Harry says, pausing to take a sip of his Baja Blast. “I can just call an Uber or I can walk.”

“Harry,” I tilt my head to the side. “You know I don’t mind giving you rides, right? It lets me spend more time with you.”

I notice that Harry pauses on eating for a moment as he looks down at his feet before he speaks. “I don’t know. I just feel like a burden sometimes since I don’t have my own car.”

“Hey,” I place my food to the side for a moment, and I take his food from him to do the same before I place his hands in mine - giving them a squeeze. “You will never be a burden to me. Never. Do you understand?”

Harry purses his lips to the side, and I raise my eyebrows as if to enunciate my statement again. His shoulders deflate before he gives me a soft nod which causes me to smile.

“Good, glad we cleared that up,” I tell him as I start in on my food again. “Are they going to come and pick you up from here?”

He doesn’t answer me right away as he leans against the counter, pondering as he chews the bite he just took from his taco. “Why don’t you just come with me?”

“I don’t know, H,” I squirm slightly at the thought of being around people I’m not familiar. “It’s not like these people even have any idea who I am. They’ll probably think it’s weird if I just turn up with you.”

“Well, if they said something about it, then we’d leave,” Harry’s eyebrows narrow as he holds my eyes. “I wouldn’t want to be around those types of people anyway.”

I glance over at the clock to see he has about two hours left of his shift. “How about I think about it? I’ll just hang out until you’re done - that way I can take you anyway, yeah?”

Harry sends me that boyish grin of his that here recently has sent my heart fluttering, and he reaches over to dip one of his chips into the cheese before he’s extending it out to me. I roll my eyes playfully at him as I lean forward - capturing the chip between my teeth before letting it fall back onto my tongue.

“I think that sounds like a plan,” he tells me.

The sound of someone entering behind me causes me to come back to reality, and I immediately leave the main area of the store to head into one of the side rooms. I wasn’t even sure if the organization in here was the same as it used to be, but I just had to get away from that counter for a moment.

I spent so many days just sitting on top of that while I would watch Harry work, and half the time I’d be helping him get his stuff done so we could get out faster. All we cared about back then was playing music in my garage, so we always tried to get him out of the store as quickly as possible once his shift was through.

As I approach the section of shelves that was strictly for 80’s records, I decide that’s as good of a place to start as any. I begin to flip through the records while nibbling on the inside of my cheek as I do so.

I pull a few out that I know I’d be more than happy to have before continuing my way through the room. My attention gets caught for a moment by a blonde girl exiting out of the employee only room, and I can tell she’s heading back up towards the front while adjusting her clothes.

It’s only a few seconds later that I catch another body exiting the same room, but I keep my back slightly turned to them as I continue to sort through the vinyls.

Just as I’m about to grab a Talking Heads album, my attention is stolen once more by the sound of a high-pitched giggle, followed by a single name.

“Harry!”

I can’t help but flash my eyes over to the counter since I’ve made my way back towards that area, and I see Harry’s body wrapped around the girl I had seen just a few seconds ago.

“Stop it - you’ve already had me away from the customers for the last fifteen minutes,” the girl continues to laugh, acting as if she were trying to push him off of her, but it’s obvious she’s loving the contact from him.

Knowing I need to get out of here, I go to set the records down that I had in my hand, but I’m caught off guard by a gasp, and I can see the girl looking past Harry’s shoulder at me.

“Holy shit!” Harry is quick to look over his shoulder to see what she’s on about, and I watch his expression harden once he sets his sights on me. “You’re Marlowe Finch!”

The girl unravels herself from Harry, and she walks over to me with a large smile. I clear my throat when I realize I’m going to have to interact with her. Clearly she’s a fan, and I don’t want to come across as rude. My issue is with Harry - not her.

“Uh, hi, that’s me,” I nod, forcing a smile of my own.

“I was so bummed that I missed your show a few weeks ago, but this one was sick,” she gestures her thumb over her shoulder to Harry before crossing her arms over her chest. “So I stayed home too so I could be on standby, in case he needed me.”

I soon realize that he obviously lied to this girl about where he was that night considering he was very much at my gig, and not at home sick. He sends me a look, one that I quickly interpret as a warning, but all that does is cause me to get a bit angry.

“Funny seeing you here, Harry,” I say, raising an eyebrow at him. “Do you still work here too?”

The girl looks between the two of us for a moment - confusion etched on her face. “Wait, you guys know each other?”

Harry walks to stand behind the blonde after hearing that question, and I stifle a laugh at the fact that he hasn’t even talked about me once to her.

“Harry and I used to be best friends up until a few years ago.”

“What the hell?” She lifts her hand to hit the back of it lightly against Harry’s chest. “How come you’ve never told me this?”

I can’t lie and say that it doesn’t hurt to know that he really does just forget that I ever existed in his life. I’m actually a bit envious of him at the same time though. I wish I had the capability just to block out years of memories that I no longer wanted.

Harry remains silent, but the girl doesn’t wait for him to respond before she speaks again. “Well, I’m Rylan,” she says, extending her hand to me which I shake. “Are you staying in town for long?”

“Just moved back actually,” I nod. “I plan on being here for some time since I just finished up my tour, and I’m starting to work on my new album.”

“Oh, that’s so exciting! We should totally hang out sometime since you’re going to be sticking around.”

I can see the annoyance written all over Harry’s face as Rylan continues to ramble, and I send him a slight smirk. The one thing he wants to avoid, he simply can’t - all due to the fact his girlfriend is currently making over me.

“Well, if Harry still has my number, it’s the same, so…” I trail off with a shrug, and Rylan claps her hand. 

“I can’t believe I’m going to be hanging out with you. I feel like I'm in a dream right now,” she shakes her head before seeing the records I didn’t get a chance to put down. “If you’re all set, I can ring those up for you.”

“Sure.”

Rylan takes the vinyls from me, and she turns her back towards both Harry and I to walk towards the counter. As I walk past Harry, we allow our eyes to run over each other before I’m looking back ahead to properly check-out. I can still feel his sight on me as I hand my card over to Rylan who’s bagging up my records. She extends the bag to me over the surface - a large smile on her face.

“It was nice to meet you, Marlowe. Hopefully we can all hang out soon. I’m sure you and Harry have a lot to catch up on.”

For some reason, that simple phrase causes a knot to grow in my throat, and I force a smile. “Yeah, I bet. See you around.”

Turning towards the door, I keep my head down as I walk past Harry, and once I’m outside, I let out a breath that I didn’t even know I had been holding in. I quickly get in my car, and I’m thankful that I had parked facing away from the windows of the building as I place my records in the passenger seat. I stare blankly at my steering wheel as I take a minute to gather myself.

This was a mistake. I should’ve never moved back here.

I should’ve just planted roots somewhere else given my parents had moved, but I just felt so drawn to come back here. This was the place that gave me inspiration to start music in the first place, and I figured it would be good to write my first album here. It seems that now I was terribly mistaken. The thought of having to worry about seeing Harry everywhere I go will eventually take its toll on me. All of my years of therapy will be washed down the drain.

After taking a few more moments to collect myself, I start my car, and I head off in the direction of the art gallery I had looked up earlier today to try to get my mind off this whole encounter.

●・○・●・○・●

It had been a few days since running into Harry at the record store, and mentally, I was doing better with it than I thought I was going to. I expected my mind to race once I laid down in bed that night, but that didn’t happen. Thankfully, I distracted myself with hanging up the new art I got while playing a couple new records, and I think that helped get my mind off of it.

Kailey had texted me earlier today and asked if I wanted to go out for a few drinks later, and I agreed. I had seen her a couple times since I got back, mostly because she came over and helped me with a lot of the painting I did in my house, but this was going to be the first time that we were actually going out.

It’s exciting to me, to be honest. Yes, I’ve been traveling and going out here and there for the past few years, but I haven’t really gone out with a friend in so long - not since I left.

I went for a rather simple look tonight - just a pair of ripped black skinny jeans, a cropped white tee and my leather jacket. Of course, my platform boots were on my feet.

Since it was a little up in the air how much we would end up drinking tonight, I decided to order myself an uber, and I made sure I had my cards, keys and phone before heading out the door. I only had to wait a couple minutes for my Uber to arrive, and as I got into the back seat, Kailey sent me a text to tell me she was on the way as well.

I’m hoping that by going out tonight that it gives me a better outlook on deciding to move back to LA. After the encounter with Harry, it did have me questioning everything, even though I didn’t spiral as bad as I thought that I would. I’ve managed to keep up a pretty good relationship with Kailey, despite being gone, so I’m more than hopeful that we’ll fall back into our old ways.

I know that I have my band, and Lys, but it’ll be nice to feel like I have close friends again.

I pull up to the agreed location just a few minutes after getting in the car since it’s not too far from my house, and I step inside. I’m looking around for Kailey, but I don’t see her yet, so I decide to make my way to the bar to go ahead and order a drink. 

As I’m waiting behind a few people, I see the door open again out of the corner of my eye, and I see Kailey.

“Kailey!” I call over to the noise of the music, and I watch her eyes wander around for a moment before they settle on me.

She smiles wide, and waves her hand high in the air before she starts to make her way over to me. Once she reaches me, we wrap our arms around each other in a big hug, and I let out a small sigh at how nice it feels to have contact with someone like this. It wasn’t too common for me these days.

“How are you?” I ask as we move up a bit towards the bar, both of us with our arms now crossed over our chests.

“I’m good, just got off of work, and I came straight here. How about you? Did you finally get everything settled at the house?”

I nod, feeling a sense of pride that I have gotten myself all situated. “I did, actually. I picked up a few more art pieces earlier this week to fill some empty space on the walls that I had, but I think everything is officially in place. You’ll have to come over for dinner and a movie night sometime.”

“Oh, I’d love that!” Kailey exclaims with a toothy grin. “It’ll be just like old times.”

Eventually it’s our turn, and I order myself just a Coors Light to start. Kailey orders herself a beer as well, and then we head towards a high-top table tucked into the corner - having it be a little more secluded in the busy little bar.

“I know you’ve been super busy with the house, but have you had a chance to get out a little bit? There’s a lot that’s the same, but a lot that’s different,” Kailey says as she takes a sip of her drink.

“The day I picked up the art pieces was actually the first day I was able to do that,” I wrap both of my hands around my cool glass - tapping my fingertips against it lightly. “Went to the art gallery, but I went to the old record store before that.”

Kailey pauses her attempt at another sip at my words, and she lowers her glass back down onto the table. “You did, did you?”

“Yeah,” I sigh, shaking my head. “Saw Harry.”

Kailey’s eyes widen at my words. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Yeah, and well…that wasn’t the first time I saw him. I forgot to tell you, but I also saw him at my show.”

She stares at me for a moment with a slack jaw before she shakes her head. “Okay, wow,” she clears her throat, actually taking a large sip of her beer afterwards. “And how were both of those run-ins?”

I purse my lips to the side as I try to decide how to answer her. “Pretty unfortunate, to say the least,” I laugh sadly. “He caught me after my gig, and he pretty much just said he wanted to confirm it was me, but that he still wants to act like I don’t exist. The other day when I saw him at the record store, he was all over some girl. Rylan was her name, I think?”

“Yeah, Rylan,” Kailey rolls her eyes. “She’s something.”

“You know her?” I ask, eyebrows narrowing as I take another sip of beer.

“She hangs around with Mikey’s group of friends, and I’ve run into her a couple of times at his parties. Her and Harry have been together for a little bit from what I’ve heard,” she shrugs. “She’s younger though - 22, I think? Fucking loves to party it seems.”

“I thought you hadn’t really seen Harry.”

“Over the past few months he’s been turning up more with her, but before that I only saw him those couple times I told you about. Did he talk to you the other day at the store?”

I shake my head. “Didn’t utter a fucking word. Rylan was fangirling over me, and he just stood there…glaring. I’m sure it had to eat him up that his girlfriend was losing her mind. She wants to hang out with me too.”

Kailey throws her head back with a laugh. “I’m sorry, Marlowe, but oh my god. The poor girl is actually clueless, isn’t she?”

“It seems so. He lied to her about being at my gig. Apparently she wanted to go, and he told her that he was sick, so she stayed home in case he needed her.”

“Wow,” Kailey lifts her glass and extends it towards me. “I think we can cheers to a big ol’ ‘fuck Harry’, am I right?”

I can’t help but chuckle as I lift my glass - clinking it against hers. “You’re right.”

She hums as flails her hand in the air, as if she’s brushing the subject matter of our current conversation away. “But enough about that asshole. How’s the album coming along?”

“To be honest with you? It isn’t,” I run a hand through my hair. “I haven’t really had any inspiration hit me lately, and I know I have a meeting coming up with my label soon. I’m a bit stressed. They’re going to expect an anticipated release date, and I’m not going to be able to give that to them.”

“Well your manager, Lys, right?” I nod as she continues. “I’m sure she’s going to rally for you. She’ll make sure you get all the time you need in order to create what you want, and to put something out that you’re proud of. Don’t let them pressure you into a deadline.”

“Yeah, it’s just…it’s not a good look that this is my first album, and I can’t even get my head on straight to properly get to work on it. I’ve just been so busy with the move, but now that I have my studio set up, I’m hoping it’ll be easier to get some material together.”

“You’ve got this,” Kailey nods. “Your song writing has always been stellar, and you can come up with melodies at the drop of a hat. It’s going to all work out.”

She reaches across the table to wrap her hand around my wrist - giving it a squeeze of reassurance as we share a smile between the two of us.

Our conversation continues on, and eventually we order ourselves another round of beers. At one point, my phone lights up on the table, and I look down to see Harry’s name. My eyebrows narrow, and I swallow harshly as I stare at it. I was in need of a cigarette anyway, so I figure that answering it won’t be too much of an issue.

I can’t tell you why I’ve kept his number saved all these years. It was something I always wanted to bring up in therapy, but I never did. I guess there was a part of me that still wanted to know I could contact him in some way, if I needed to. I had also convinced myself that he probably had a new number, and the contact in my phone was just a placeholder of what used to be.

“I’m going to step out and take this call and have a smoke. I’ll be right back,” I tell Kailey as I stand up, and she gives me a thumbs up while taking a large sip from her glass.

Heading outside, I answer the phone, and I hold it between my ear and my shoulder as I pull a cigarette from my pack - placing it between my lips as I struggle to get my lighter out as well. “Hello?”

I can hear music coming through the speaker, but I don’t hear anyone speaking as I light up my cigarette. Giving it a few minutes, I roll my eyes as I lean against the building, taking a long drag before pulling the stick from my mouth.

“Harry, if you’re talking I can’t hear you.”

It’s silent again for a few seconds, and as I’m going to place my cigarette back between my lips, he speaks. “You just had to come back, didn’t you?”

I pause, the filter almost to my mouth as my face contorts. “What?”

“You heard me, Marlowe,” his words are slurring, and I close my eyes when I realize he’s extremely drunk. “You just had to fucking come back here.”

I’ve never been around Harry drunk, therefore I’ve never known what he could sound like, but right now he sounds even less like my Harry than ever before.

“Well, it is my hometown,” I scoff before taking another drag.

“Did you come back here just to torture me for leaving your stupid little band?”

I blow out smoke towards the sky before I answer him. “It wasn’t just my band, Harry, it was ours. But no, I wanted to spend some time at home. I haven’t really been able to within the past three years.”

“Why?” Harry chuckles darkly into the phone. “You don’t have anyone here anyway. Your parents have moved - no siblings.”

I bite down on my bottom lip as Harry brings up my relationship with my parents. He knows they love me, but he also knows we’re not very close. They’ve been to a few of my shows here and there, and they’ve made it clear they’re proud of me. That’s all I can really ask for.

“Thanks for that,” I try to keep my cool - playing up my sarcasm to cope with his comment. “I had completely forgotten my family dynamic.”

“I’m just saying, there’s not a single person who truly wants you here.”

“That’s funny,” I mumble around the filter of my cigarette. “Because I’m actually out for drinks with Kailey as we speak.”

It’s silent again, but I continue to hear the muffled music in the background, so I know he’s still there.

“Okay, I’m hanging up now, Harry. This call is absolutely pointless.”

“Just one more thing before you go,” Harry’s voice holds a tone that I’ve never heard before.

I wait.

“I left the band because I couldn’t stand being around your stuck up attitude. You’re so fucking full of yourself, Marlowe. So fucking selfish,” he spits, and my lips part at the harsh words he casts my way. “You going solo like you did just proves you were going to use us, and then leave us out to dry once you made it. I couldn’t stand being in the same room with you anymore because of how you were acting - how you’re probably still acting.”

I can’t even find the words to respond to what he’s just said to me. Never in my life has he spoken to me in such a way, or said such hurtful things - things that he has to know aren’t true. As much as I want to prove that to him, I know in the end it’s pointless. 

This Harry doesn’t want explanations or reasoning. This Harry is already set in his ways and his thinking. Arguing with him would be like arguing with a brick wall.

“You’re talking out of your ass right now, and you’re clearly drunk,” I toss my cigarette to the ground, snuffing it out with the toe of my boot. “I’m actually going to hang up now. Don’t call me again. Goodbye, Harry.”

My hands shake as I hang up my phone - slipping it into the back pocket of my jeans. I suck in a deep breath as I drop my head back to rest against the brick behind me. 

As much as that call should upset me even more, I think it’s not because I’ve actually come to the realization now, more than ever, that Harry is not the same person. He will never be again. I’ve already mourned who he used to be. I’ve already worked through that trauma to a point where I feel comfortable dealing with the little bit that still remains.

That man on the phone was not someone who used to be my best friend. He’s a complete stranger.

I let out a deep breath before making my way back into the bar, and Kailey sends me a smile. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, that was Harry.”

“Come again?” 

“I don’t want to talk about it. Can we just get some shots?” I laugh, and she nods as she pushes herself up from the table.

“Oh, I’m about to get you two back to back,” she says, guiding me to sit back down. “I’ll be just a minute.”

My eyes follow Kailey as she pushes through people to make her way back to the bar, and I fiddle with my fingers on top of the surface in front of me. 

I have to come to terms with the fact that I’ll probably be seeing a lot of Harry now, especially if what Kailey said is true about Rylan hanging out with people who Mikey knows. Maybe it’ll end up being a good thing - it’ll be the true closure I need to just lay it all to rest. It was already seeming to be going in that direction anyway.

It’s only a few minutes later that Kailey is back with a small serving tray with two more beers and a total of four shots.

“We’re getting drunk,” she tells me as she sets everything down. “And we’re not going to talk about that dickhead anymore.”

We each grab a shot glass and raise it in the air. “Fuck Harry Styles,” I say, repeating her cheers from earlier, but adding his last name to it - to really feel it.

Kailey smirks as she nods. 

“Fuck Harry Styles.”

●・○・●・○・●

A/N: If you'd like to see what I picture Kailey and Rylan to look like as well, I've included their pictures below! Thank you so much for reading, and I'll see you all very soon for the next one.

Kailey

Rylan

●・○・●・○・●

Taglist: @daydreamingofmatilda @prettygurl-2009 @ghoststyles @lillefroe @gem1712 (if you’d like to be added to my taglist, please send me a DM!)

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles #harry styles writing #harry styles fic #harry edward styles #harry styles smut #harry styles ff #harry styles fanfic #harry styles smutty fanfic #harry styles au #harryedwardstyles #harrystylesfanfic #harry fanfic #harry styles fan fic #harrystyles #harry #harry styles angst #harry smut #harry styles x fmc #harry x fmc #dark!harrystyles #dark!harry #Spotify

[rose-tinted-vision]

Rose's favourite fics

(in no particular order)

part 2 here

Apparently I've linked about 50 fics so I'm sorry, I'm not going to add all the summaries for these fics.

Blue Lock

For Blue Lock I'd recommend checking out smallghosts and explorerseel8's profile

pride hath no place by vani_em (NagiReo)

raison d'être by explorerseel8 (ReoNagi)

Take Five by explorerseel8 (ReoNagi)

truth or drink by smallghosts (ReoNagi)

AITA for “abandoning” my best friend by smallghosts (ReoNagi)

fall forward/spring back by nagireo (NagiReo)

as long as I'm with you by okonomiyakein (NagiReo)

Player 2 by explorerseel8 (HioRin)

Kuroko no Basuke

Please read literally everything by umisabaku

A Kinda Sorta Fairy Tale by Lys ap Adin (MidoTaka)

But I Lived by exuberant_imperfection, kate882 (MidoTaka)

Designation: Miracle (series) by umisabaku (KagaKuro, KiKasa, AkaFuri, AoMomo, MidoTaka)

as small as a world by umisabaku (MidoTaka)

in the liminal darkness by 100demons (MidoTaka)

Haikyuu

(the sad thing is that I read a ton of Haikyuu and KnB fics before I got my ao3 account so it's a slow journey finding all my fav fics again)

I put my hand out, unfolded, into the sunlight by carafin (BokuAka)

I'll give a bouquet to these unending days by sparksandsalt (BokuAka)

love in the time of wifi by dalyeau (BokuAka)

tea-stained polaroids by dalyeau (BokuAka)

video games and gold rings by gnomeo (KuroKen)

Ear to Ear by darkmagicalgirl (AoFuta)

Yaku and the Beanstalk by Mysecretfanmoments (YakuLev)

One Piece

For my fellow ZoSan fans: literally everything by Hazel_Athena, Harubo, 8ball, donutsandcoffee and three_days_late are worth checking out

More Ace-centric: Dezace and stormy1x2's fics that make me Feel Things

Wanted by Hazel_Athena (ZoSan)

Disoriented Envy by Hazel_Athena (ZoSan)

Can you hear me now? by Alexis_C (ZoSan)

Learning to Listen by three_days_late (ZoSan)

this, at least by adietxt (ZoSan)

come on, come on (turn a little faster) by donutsandcoffee (ZoSan)

Late Night with Sanji Black by Harubo (ZoSan)

Love's First Blush by Hazel_Athena (ZoSan)

they said love is reaching blindly at a pit full of snakes by summermidnights (ZoSan)

Complex Buddies by threesipsmore (ZoSan)

you and me somehow by losingcontrolnow (AceSan)

Cryptid Sightings Volume #1: Portgas D. "Fire Fist" Ace by Dezace (Gen, Ace-centric)

Spades On-Screen by stormy1x2 (Gen, Ace/WB pirates-centric)

whatever you can still betray by midnightluck (Gen, Ace/WB pirates-centric)

Hide the Knives by SrirachaBunny (Gen, Ace/WB pirates-centric)

The Wanderer by MaiKusakabe (Gen, Badass!Marco)

Genshin Impact

For Genshin, I'd recommend heartslogos and smallghosts

Burgeon by gloomyparfait (HaiKaveh)

Forget Your Name (Replace it with mine) by princesscas (Thomato)

the purest form of water by eversall (XingYun)

to be unbroken and brave again by magicities (XiaoVen)

Chonghua's Layered Frost by pureofheart_rareofpair (XingYun)

cloudburst by smallghosts (XingYun)

keep the caffeine away from kids by shynkai (scara-centric, slight HaiKaveh)

The Verdure and the Puppet by kimekosu (Gen, Nahida & Wanderer)

truck, barter and trade by Seungshi03 (Established HaiKaveh, them raising Wanderer)

James Bond (Craig movies)

I remember really liking anything by Jen, skylights, scioscribe, and pdameron,

Memos from Q branch by AviaCarter (Gen, background 00Q)

Sic Pravis Magna by blackidyll (00Q)

ordinary, everyday things by pdameron (00Q)

Dramatic Arts by scioscribe (00Q)

Ordinary Numbers by BootsnBlossoms, Kryptaria (00Q)

#blue lock #bllk #reonagi #nagireo #haikyuu #bokuaka #kuroko no basuke #knb #midotaka #one piece #zosan #portgas d ace #genshin impact #haikaveh #xingyun #plus a dash of #00Q #fic rec #more of a compilation of my fav fics for easy access really #a fic rec in 2023??? yeah i know #this feels like me baring my soul to whoever's reading this

[nattinatalia]

Jack Harlow x Reader : BOYS NIGHT

“If he starts to get fuzzy, just give him his iPad and have Clay play him Toy Story.” You tell your husband as you watch him get ready for the night.

“Ok sounds good.” He tells you.

“Please make sure he doesn’t take off his jacket or beanie. It’s a cold one tonight.”

He smiles and looks at you “Baby, I know my kid, I know what to do”

“I’m sorry, it’s just that he gets that ear infection when it’s too cold and those nights where he’s up and crying are the worst for him.”

“I know that too.” He comes up to you “He’ll be fine mama. Little man wanted to come and I’m just happy he’s finally asking to join me on things, and this is probably the most chill event he’d be able to join me for a while.”

Your son was attached to you at the hip, the moment he was born he just never left your side. He doesn’t like going with anyone who isn’t you, you’re lucky if he even pays attention to Jack, and that’s been a bit hard on your husband, but he understands, since you are with the kids most of the time. Even when you’re working, you make sure the kids are with you.

“Unless they invite you to perform at the Kids Choice Awards again.” You tell him teasingly.

He shakes his head “You got jokes huh.”

“Who invites someone to a kid's event to perform a song that has the word semen in the lyrics.” You tell him.

“Agreed, but Mia loved that I got slimed.”

“Oh that was my favorite part too.” You get up from the bed and head towards the playroom where your two kids were.

“Have fun Ez cheesy, nino and uncle Clay gonna be there too.” You hear Mia tell your son

“Okay” Ez tells her

You smile “Ezequiel estás listo?”

He nods “I’m ready.”

You kneel down in front of him to retie his shoe laces. “You’re gonna have so much fun with daddy and your tíos. But if you want to come home, you tell daddy to call me and Mia and I will go get you quickly.”

“Quick like the Flash?” He asks, his little hands coming to play with the zipper of your hoodie.

You nod “No one is faster than The Flash, but we’ll try our best.”

He looks towards the door and sees Jack standing there, then looks at you “It boys night mommy, I’m ok.”

“Yeah mommy, it’s boys night. Little man will have fun.” Jack says coming to stand next to you.

You nod “Okay, well, you’re all set baby, have fun and stay close to daddy or uncles.”

You stand up and go towards the little table in the corner to get EZ’s backpack and make sure what he needs for the night is in there.

“Your carrots are in here if you want a little snack, also apple juice and water. Oh, if the noise is too much, put on your-“

“Momma, they have to go.” Mia interrupts you rolling her eyes with a little sass and giggle.

You smile and nod “Sorry, okay, have fun boys.”

You kiss your son on the cheek, hug him and give him la bendición, he kisses your cheek “Gracias mommy.”

You go to Jack now, with a sad smile on your face. Truth be told, this was harder on you than on your son.

It’s not that Jack is a bad father or that you’re afraid to leave your son with him, nothing like that at all. You were just having attachment issues, you’ve never been away from him either so this was hard on you.

Jack gives you a tight hug and pecks your lips a few times. “He’ll be fine, I promise.”

“He’ll be with you, so I know he’s good. Don’t mind me and my silly emotions.”

“Those feelings are valid baby, it’s ok, I know they’re not towards me. But we really do need to go.” He tells you.

You nod and do the same you did with your son and finally say goodbye and watch them walk out the house.

“So now for some Mia and mommy time.” Mia yells.

You laugh “Cookies and Princess and The Frog?”

She nods “Yes please.” And you do just that.

*Jack & EZ at Louisville Live*

“Hey cheesy, are you having fun?” Urban asks EZ as they sit down and watch Jack shoot some balls into the basket.

Ez nods “Can I go do that with daddy?”

“Hmm, I don’t know bud, we’ll ask him when he comes over here.” Urban tells him.

Five minutes later Jack looked over to where his son was and noticed he was getting impatient. He looked at Urban and he made a motion for him to head towards them.

“What’s up? You ok?” He asks EZ

“He wants to shoot some hoops.” Urb tells him.

Jack smiles, “Well come on.”

He jumps off his seat and runs towards the court with Jack close behind him.

EZ starts running around the court bouncing the ball and trying to make it in the basket.

He’s laughing when he accidentally hits Urban with the ball “Sorry tío.”

He runs back towards Jack and looks up at him with the biggest smile “I like boys night daddy, we do it again?” He asks hopeful.

“Of course, bud, I promise.” Jack says, happy that his son got out of his comfort zone tonight.

He admits that he definitely needed this. He wouldn’t tell his wife, but he felt like his son didn’t really love him or didn’t care to be around him. It’s such a weird thought to have but those were his feelings.

He applauds you for being all hands on with both kids, but sometimes he wishes you would ask him for more help.

“Dad, send mommy and Mia a picture of us. Tell momma I’m ok please.”

That has Jack laughing “Alright, let’s go to our seats though, the show is about to start.”

They head back to their seats, they take a couple of pictures which Jack sends you.

Hubby : Little man is having a blast, he told me to let his mama know he’s ok.

You: 😊❤️ My boys I love you both. Thank you for being patient and being the best daddy. See you boys later.

Hubby: We love you mama, see you soon.

And with that, Jack alongside his little boy enjoy the rest of their boys night, and looking forward to more.

TAG LIST

@heavyhitterheaux 💕

@harlowsbby 💕

@arination99 💕

@cmalass 💕

@jackharloww 💕

@minkookie95 💕

@deannaard 💕

@jacksmoviestar 💕

@harlowcomehome 💕

@fdl305 💕

@httpkoylinnn 💕

@xoxokiaraaxoxo 💕

@hoodharlow 💕

@automaticpeachsong 💕

@amethyst09 💕

#jack harlow #jack harlow x yn #jack harlow x y/n #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow fic #jack harlow fanfiction #come home the kids miss you #ez harlow

[anakinsgirlfriendreal]

Parts Of The Truth

Masterlist

Chapter Five

Warnings: discussion of fertility issues, maybe some spelling errors, a child, foul language.

Five chapters already? Insane, I love writing so much and idk but my motivation has returned after so long. PREPARE TO BE SICK OF ME.

"Padme" you stare at her with an awkward, anxious smile on your face. You're so fucked you think.

She smiles at you, no hint of hostility or faux politeness, a genuine smile, but her eyes seem sad. "Uh, I'm sorry to just pop in like this but I got your address from Ahsoka. Do you mind if I come in." You hesitate for a moment but you let her in.

She steps into the house, following your lead as you walk back to the living room, where Darcy was laying on the couch, eyes glued to the TV, still in her pjs.

"Sorry for the mess, this is what the house looks like when you spend an entire weekend with a three year old."

Padme chuckles, "It's okay, no judgement here. Hi sweetie" she waves at Darcy, you pray she doesn't see any resemblance. Darcy waves at her.

"Are you my mama's friend?" Darcy sits up immediately curious. You scoop her into your arms, kissing her head before placing her on the floor.

"How about you save the questions and go take a bath, let mama and her...friend talk okay?" Darcy pouts. "But-"

"Now" it comes out more firm than intended but it worked, she ran up the stairs to her bedroom.

Padme sits on the couch as you try to put away all of Darcy's scattered toys. "Sorry to just drop in. I just...I didn't know who else to go to, I figured since you work in the office you're the best person to come to about this sort of thing" she sighs. Your brows furrow.

"What is it?" You ask curiously.

She hesitates, kissing her teeth. "I think that my husband is cheating on me."

You're at a loss, opening your mouth but no words form, you sit next to her. "...Wow uhm, why...why would you think that" you try to sound as clueless and convincing as possible.

"I'm sorry to just dump on you. i just figured that if...is he seeing anyone in the office. Is anything weird happening that i should know of" she asks, it sounds like she's scared to hear the answer. you swallow the lump in your throat, pushing down your guilt, your body suddenly hot like you were about to combust.

"I'm sorry Padme, there's nothing I can think of." You sigh, going to the kitchen to get water, she follows behind you sitting on the stool at the counter. "He loves you very much, I don't think he would do that" you lie straight through your teeth, offering her a glass of water which she politely accepts.

"I know he does, it's just- Okay, about three years ago, we found out that i can't get pregnant, and we both really wanted a baby. So he put thousands of dollars into fertility treatments and different doctors and medications but every time we tried...none held up" She opens up to you. You feel sick to your stomach, guilt consuming you.

"Padme, I'm so sorry"

She looks at you, her eyes glossed over with tears. "He was patient and kind about it you know. He said that we'd keep trying and if it didn't work then we could adopt but then suddenly, he says that he's 'over it' that he was happy and that he didn't care anymore. I've been trying to push him to adopt but he's fighting me on it something about how he doesn't raise someone else's baby and it'd be better just us."

Your eyes gloss over listening to her, you knew why he stopped; because of Darcy, because you gave him what Padme couldn't, your stomach twists into knots.

Padme continues, "I figured that, maybe it was nothing but then he started coming home later, sometimes he wouldn't come home at all and he'd say that it was a late night at the office or that he was running over proposals so I let it slide you know. But I just can't shake the feeling that he's hiding something" she places her hand over your own. "Please, if you know something, just tell me"

You bit down on your lip, contemplating. What kind of a person were you? Sleeping with a married man, having his baby when his wife was struggling to do so. You defended your actions in your mind; to be fair; you didn't know. "I don't know anything that can help Padme, I'm sorry."

She sighs, "it's fine" she runs a hand over her face. "It's just nice to talk about it finally to someone, i felt like it would drive me crazy just holding it in"

You nod, completely understanding that feeling.

"I hope we can be friends." she smiles, you return the smile, nodding. Darcy runs down the stairs, in a fresh onesie, her hair brush and teddy in her arms, she climbed up on the stool handing you the brush to comb her hair. Padme smiles at her. "That's a cute bunny"

Darcy nods. "Yeah, his name is whiskers, my daddy gave him to me, my daddy always buys me stuffies." Padme smiles.

"Yeah? Your daddy sounds pretty cool"

"Mhm, he works a lot but my mama says it's so he could buy me all the teddies in the whole big world." She holds the bunny out to Padme.

Padme takes the bunny, playing with her, you feel nervous like Darcy may something and explode your life, you finish braiding her hair and she runs into the living room, back to watching Paw Patrol. Padme watches her tiny form, smiling. "She's bold"

You chuckle, "A handful too." You smile, talking about your baby, for a moment the guilt fades only to return again.

"Are you and her dad...together?" She asks. "Sorry i don't mean to pry"

"it's fine and no well, it's complicated" You take a deep breath. Padme chuckles.

"Ugh men, so annoying."

You laugh, "You can say that again. Hey, are you in the mood for wine?" You know it's an absolutely horrible idea to befriend the wife but you aren't exactly the best at decision making. Clearly.

"Day drinking? I love your style." Padme raises her brows.

You spent the afternoon, finishing a bottle of wine with Padme, while Darcy melted her brain with cartoons. You talked and laughed, trading stories and giving advice which you of all people shouldn't be doing. You had almost forgotten that you were responsible for ripping this woman's dream away from her, forgetting that this new friendship will inevitably take a horrible turn.

#anakin skywalker x reader #anakin x reader #hayden christensen x reader #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker #modern au #ceo x assistant #parts of the truth

[universallychaoticpan]

My colleague just lost something I lent them. It's not expensive, but it's precious to me because my grandpa bought it. So I'm kind of upset rn :( Can I maybeee.. perhaps.. get a headcanon or scenario where Dazai and Ranpo comfort the reader in this situation, please? Either Dazai or Ranpo just fine!

Thank you🥺🤍

I'm sorry, that sucks. I really hope you get it back, whatever it is, and I hope this make you feel a bit better. They are a bit short, but I hope you enjoy. <33

Dazai had an odd relationship to his family, which was to say there really wasn't one. Even you didn't know the extent of his life before he'd joined up with the port mafia years ago. For all you knew, the first 18 or so years of his life were just a vague mystery.

But you weren't like that.

You knew your family, your parents,your grandparents. Unlike him, you were connected to them. So when he found you so sad, brushing it off like there was nothing wrong, he knew there had to be something he could do.

Though you denied anything being amiss, Dazai was and always had been a persistent man. (At the very least, he got what he wanted no matter what.) You almost didn't want to tell him. It seemed so trivial, getting so worked up over a lost trinket. But you remembered when your grandfather had given it to you, and now you wondered if you'd ever get it back or id you'd live with the small pang that sang in your chest when you thought of it.

But he didn't make you feel ashamed when the truth came out. In fact, he nodded. He told you he understood; when you were like him, you spent your life feeling like you were never grounded. But you had a family that kept you harbored when life got rough. Even if he didn't have it himself, he knew what having a family meant.

And he promised that you had his help looking for your belonging until you had it back safe and sound.

Well Mr. Genius here didn't even need five seconds to tell what was going on. By the time you had filled him in on what you'd lost, he was brushing the tears from your eyes, fixing his jacket, and holding out his hand.

"Come on," he said cheerfully. "We're going to find it if it takes us all day!"

Now you weren't going to lie, the last thing you wanted to do was leave your apartment and go sleuthing around the city. Frankly, you wanted to curl up on the couch and disappear within a pile of blankets. But you sighed and took his hand, and after a few minutes of walking, you did start to feel better. It was a nice day; the sun was out, the air was fresh from the last night's rain, and you could almost ignore your sadness for a moment.

"Please tell me you know where you're going?"

He played at mock offense, pressing a hand to his chest and sighing dramatically. "You wound me! Doubting my abilities like this. Of course I know where I'm going."

This ended up not being true. You walked through winding streets, across busy roads, through back alleys and in circles for about two hours, your sides aching with laughter from Ranpo's jokes. daza

In the end, he'd had to use his deduction to find your way home. (Just as you'd predicted, he'd gotten you lost.) And you didn't find what you were looking for. But you fell asleep that night after he promised he'd go looking the next morning. And you knew you could trust him to find it.

#ranpo edogawa x reader #ranpo x reader #edogawa ranpo x reader #dazai x reader #dazai osamu x reader #osamu dazai x reader #bsd x reader #bsd #bungo stray dogs x reader

[blushweddinggowns]

“I know,” Eddie groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I know I said I’d be there, but Chris we have all year don’t we? And you can come visit me here-”

“Why on earth would I ever go back to Indiana?” Chrissy asked. Eddie didn’t have to see her to know that she had a hand on her hip while she was chewing him out, “And risk seeing my parents? Hell no.”

“It’s Indianapolis-”

“It’s a hundred-mile radius. I’m not taking the odds,” Chrissy interrupted, “Not to mention, this whole thing is so stupid! And maybe if you just told me why you were being so weird I wouldn’t have to be so pissed.”

Yeah, like hell he was doing that. Because things with Steve had…escalated. 

For one thing, they were dating, exclusively. And maybe that hadn’t been made explicit, but it might as well have. Or…at least Eddie hoped it might as well have. But it’s not like Steve could be seeing anyone else right? He worked five days out of the week and he talked to Eddie at least an hour or more a day. Where would he find the time? But he was losing the thread here. A common thing when it came to Steve-related thoughts. Besides, why was he even thinking of shit like exclusivity, when he couldn’t even tell the man his real name? But on the other hand…Steve had told his freaking sister about him. And that had to mean something right? It felt like it did. This whole insane façade of a relationship felt way more meaningful than it had any right to be. 

And Eddie had no idea what to fucking do about it. As horrifying as it was to admit it, Eddie couldn’t deny that he might have stumbled on something real here. Which was insane, he had known him for two damn weeks. But…there was just something about the guy that was driving Eddie fucking crazy. Physically and emotionally. Because obviously, Steve was hot. That was what had caught his attention in the first place. With his insanely soft-looking hair and pretty downturned eyes, all lean muscle with thick thighs that Eddie wanted to bury his face in. Not to mention his smile, god, that fucking smile. It was haunting his damn dreams before he had the pleasure of getting ahold of that gorgeous mouth. But kissing him had made everything worse. He had made the sweetest little noises, had looked so desperate, all from the smallest amount of contact.

It had been a lot to experience in one night. Which again, was fucking stupid considering how Eddie had been in more than one threesome in his life. Dry humping was very far from the wildest shit he’d done in the bedroom. But with Steve, it felt like so much more. It was…an oddly emotional experience. And it didn't help that holding him after had felt just as damn good as the deed itself. Even if it was mixed with inescapable guilt for being such a damn liar.

He had really fucked himself with this one. And he didn't know what the hell he could do about it.

Eddie was well past the point where he could play off all of the lies as a joke. He dug the hole too deep, and now there was no way to talk to Steve about it without coming off as an insane person. So obviously, the only rational thing to do was fake it even harder, right? Telling the truth would almost certainly end in Steve dumping his ass. So why out himself as the psycho he is when he could just wait for the natural death of their relationship? 

They would have some fun together, then Eddie would do some stupid shit on accident that would push him away, he’d get dumped, and remember the times they had together fondly.

And if for some crazy reason, things didn’t fall apart, Eddie could just…continue living a double life until the day he died. 

That could work, right?

~

From the latest chapter of this fic, which is now up!

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #damn your love damn your lies #chapter five is up~ #rockstar eddie munson #it's the dumbass rockstar eddie hiding his job from boyfriend steve like a dumb dumb #steddie ficlet #fic update

[justplainwhump]

Hope

A little follow up to Noor's last scene, before I move on.

Noor learns new truths.

Content: BBU, very early recovery, conditioned whumpee offering sex to caretaker (turned down)

The woman who'd guided him into the red car with him was still there. Rather tall, about Noor's own height, slim build but notable muscles around shoulders and arms. There was a slightly dangerous air around her, even when she smiled. It made him nervous.

She'd talked to the driver, quietly, quickly, in a language he didn't understand, and all he knew is that she was angry, and quite a bit worried.

She had fallen quiet now, looked back at him from the passenger seat, dark honey eyes taking him in.

"I can," he assured her softly, without her having asked for it. There was only one thing anyone wanted of him, anyway. "I am specifically trained to please men, but my skills are surely sufficient to give you a good time, too. Maybe together with your partner?" Noor tilted his head toward the driver, a bulky man with a constant frown on an otherwise soft face. The type Noor liked most. He could almost feel these arms around him, this mouth hot on his skin. "I'm sure I can help him unwind." His voice had dropped to a seductive whisper, just the way he'd been taught. Just the way that always worked.

Not now.

The man glanced into the rear view mirror. Deep, dark eyes. Noor bit his lip and smiled. "It wouldn't make me unwind," the man said plainly. His voice resonated deep within Noor's body. "It would make me very uncomfortable."

Noor let out a small laugh, soft and airy, the way that could hide the deep confusion underneath. He'd never been turned down by another man. And now, the second time within one night. The handler in the house hadn't had enough time, Noor could understand that, even though a quick fuck like that could've been over in less than five minutes. This man here, though, could have all the time in the world with Noor.

Maybe he was straight? But many of his clients were, or claimed to be, and they still fucked him all the same. "I can be whatever you want. I can make your wildest dreams come true."

Noor eased himself back in the seat and ran a hand through his long hair, brushing it over his shoulder, as he searched for the other man's gaze in the mirror, eyes slightly veiled behind his long lashes.

It didn't work. The man just focused back on the street. "We can't take him to the safe house yet," he said to the woman. "They're at their limit already with the rescues from the last job. I don't think they can handle this one. He'll be a problem around men."

"Men don't have any problems with me," Noor purred and pushed up his body on the back seat, desperately wishing for another body to settle down close to his. "On the contrary. I make them forget any of their problems."

They wouldn't throw him out, surely, he hoped. He wouldn't need to be alone and on the run tonight. He couldn't.

"You're right. I'll take him," the woman said flatly.

Noor covered his sudden disappointment with a renewed smile. It didn't sound nice. It didn't sound like she wanted him at all. But he needed to be wanted. He was made to be wanted. All the clients, at WRU, and at the shady walking house downtown, they had wanted him. He lived, he'd survived, because he'd been wanted.

He stared at the car door next to him. The nightly city was rushing past in streaks of light in front of darkness. He thought about his chances. He'd get hurt, rolling himself out. They'd find him again. If not them - why should they, if neither of them wanted him? - then the handlers from the raid. This time, he might not be able to run. But it was his only chance. To find someone who actually wanted-

"Hey." A hand rested on his forearm. The woman had turned on her seat entirely to face him. Her hand was warm. "I'm Marta," she said. "What can I call you?"

Her touch made him shiver. Her skin was warm, a little sweaty maybe, in the damp heat of the summer night. Noor didn't mind.

"Noor," he said softly. "It means light."

Marta smiled. "Okay, Noor. You don't need to be afraid."

He wasn't, he thought. There was only one thing he feared, and that was white and monotonous and cold.

She looked at the door handle knowingly. "Or whatever the feeling is that makes you leave. You're allowed to leave, Noor. You can just tell us, and we'll drop you anywhere. We don't want to own you."

He blinked once, before he laughed again, in the inviting way that he was so good at, hoping to find an unsuspicious reply. He couldn't. It didn't make sense. He didn't want to be owned, but neither did he want not to told what to do. He didn't want to stay with them, if they didn't want him, but he didn't want to be alone, either. There was no place he could go. No place he'd even understand.

"You can come with me, I'll set you up with a bed, and I'll buy you a pizza. And we'll talk about finding a place for you."

Was he so easy to read? Noor had always prided himself for his skills at understanding what his clients desired. But he'd never thought someone would even bother trying to understand what was going on inside of him.

A place for you.

A place for Noor, for himself.

The words made him feel warm.

"But you don't want me," he whispered.

"I don't want you," Marta repeated slowly. "As in, I don't want your body, or your service. But I want something for you."

"What?"

"A life," she said.

This time, Noor didn't laugh.

He just fell silent, when she sat back in her seat and faced forward, and the man steered through the dark side alleys of a nice neighbourhood Noor had never seen.

Both of them said nothing. And in return, Noor. didn't touch the door again.

He spun the words in his head.

A life. A place for you.

It made no sense.

But in the most beautiful way.

"I'd like that," he whispered eventually, so quiet the people wouldn't hear him over the noises of the car.

It didn't matter. He'd said it to himself, anyways. And to his surprise, it felt like the truth.

-

---

pet safety tag list (let me know if you want to be added or removed): @gottawhump @flowersarefreetherapy @whumplr-reader @highwaywhump @tauntedoctopuses @pigeonwhumps @whumppsychology @labgrowndemon @whumpinggrounds @somewhumpyguy @whumpzone @tragedyinblue

#bbu #pet safety series #noor the romantic #conditioned whumpee

[insuke69]

☆ What matters more than the mask.

★ Sal fisher/sally face x g/n reader! <3

☆ Warnings: No warnings except some emotional things?

Synopsis: Sal gets overstimulated at a carnival and he needs a moment to breath: and it’s hard to do that with his mask on.

★ Small Drabble, 766 words

_______

You and Sal had been ‘together’ for a while, not really dating but neither of you two would look at another person how you two looked at each other.

Sal was happy, almost felt like the first time he was ever happy in the past decade–Including when he lived in New Jersey. There was something about you that always lit him up like the night sky on the fourth of july, How your cheeks tensed when you smile, or how your contagious laugh can make the most grouchy mean old man smile, or probably how right it felt when your hand found itself holding his, or what was more likely: How you never once pressured or acted like you had to see his face, there was that kind of patience in you he felt like he hadn’t ever seen or felt before.

The carnival had been passing by that night and you and Sal went together as a non-date date. There were so many lights, and rides, and food, and.. People. This was okay for the both of you as long as it didn’t get too crowded.

But it was getting too crowded.

Every line was at least thirty feet long and there was screaming from the rollercoasters, kids crying from not winning rewards, teenagers talking too loudly about their irrelevant gossip and it was getting to the point where it was a bit overwhelming for you and Sal, Mostly Sal since he had the bright idea of skipping on his anxiety medication that day since..

“Who the hell comes to the fair on a Tuesday night? It’s- thats.. Hang on.” His tone that was playfully complaining with the undertone of truth trails off as he shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath, clasping his hands together over his masked face.

You’re someone who used to experience the same thing so seeing him taking a breath, shutting his eyes, and going quiet was enough to tell you that he wasn’t feeling well. “You alright, Sally face?” you ask him in a light tone yet needing him to confirm however he’s feeling, and at his silence, you take his hand and gently lead him to a more secluded area.

He felt safer here–behind a popcorn stand and in the dark beyond the dim yellow light of the savory snack selling pace, yet that didn’t really help: He already was trying to remind himself of his breathing techniques.

“You’re alright sal, here you are with me.. Uhm.. Breathe in for four seconds, hold it for two, exhale for five.” you tell him as you squeezed his hand reassuringly to which he responded tenfold. But it was clear that with his mask on, and the nose holes in the mask was all he had and he seemed like he was just trying to get air in general.

It felt like whenever you saw an animal staying too still or frozen and you knew you had to nudge it to make it move, you knew he needed this so in a second of impulse you unbuckle one of the straps of Sal’s mask and lift it to at least have his mouth and nose free, for him to catch his breath.

At this, his breath hitched yet called: He wasn’t sure how to feel at the fact that you had moved his mask but he knew he had to focus on relaxing and calming down, fully feeling like he was in quicksand.

“Four seconds in, hold it for two, exhale for six.” you repeated again, him immediately following your instructions and soon felt his tense chest relax and his heart more steady. “There you go, You’re doing great, Sal.” you reassured with a hand onto his shoulder, helping the mask move ever so slightly more so you could look into his eyes, not at all phased by his face.

And now he was about to start crying again and you practically felt your stomach drop, “What? Wh- sorry, are you okay?” You ask immediately as your tone gets full of worry at how now he's suddenly crying but was so calm earlier.

“No, no, it’s just.. You’re looking at me.”

“What?”

“Without my mask..” he murmured with a soft awkward chuckle.

You chuckle and shake your head before leaning in and kissing his cheek, “I’ve always wanted to actually kiss your skin instead of the plastic mask..” you were light hearted about this and didn’t even comment on his looks or scarred face.

Sal’s definitely in love now.

__________

Sally face Taglist: Comment to be tagged in any Sally face post <3

#sally face #sally fisher #sally face fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #sal fisher #insuke #What matters more than the mask

[sanjoongie]

Ͳҽղʂհì

༊·˚to my @starlitmark's, how to thank you for the laughs, the memories, and the good feels? you are the idea factory that keeps going, and keeping me fed! I'm thankful countless times for you being my fellow collaborator but more importantly a friend who always feels safe and comfortable. here's to your day 💞

༊·˚Pairings: strength supe! Jung Yunho x named! Winged! Reader (f) Angel, golden boy! Choi Jongho x named! Winged! Reader (f) Angel, elastic body! Song Mingi x named! Winged! Reader (f) Angel, sex change at will! Choi San x named! Winged! Reader (f) Angel, portal creator! Park Seonghwa x intuitive aptitude! Roommate! Nari(oc)

༊·˚Genre: suggestive, thriller

༊·˚Au: college au, super hero au, Gen V au

༊·˚Trope: fwb, one night stand, s2l

༊·˚Rating: 18+, MDNI

༊·˚Warnings: blood, death, superhero accidents, smoking, drugs, alcohol, club scene, partying, suggestions of sexual relationships, kinks

༊·˚Word Count: 2,319

༊·˚Summary: When you suddenly go from a lower ranking student at Hala College to one of the top five supe's, suspicion lays upon you like a heavy blanket. But you can't reveal the truth to your ascension, even to your roommate, without the risk of ruining lives, including your own

༊·˚Author's Note: I know we said we'd keep an idea like this on the back burner but i really wanted to gift this to you 🥺

༊·˚divider by @cafekitsune

“So, you're coming to the Grinder, tonight, right?” Mingi takes a long drag of his vape pen and blows ridiculous shapes with his lips being able to adapt shapes no human could actually manage.

You watch as somehow an apple with a worm floats by. “I dunno, Mingi, Nari is in her avoiding Seonghwa phase so--”

Mingi rolls his eyes and exhales a vanilla scented cloud. “For once, can you not cater to your roommate and let me f--”

Your wings ruffle slightly and you jump up to clamp a hand over Mingi's lips. “Let's not announce that to the world, please.”

Mingi’s lips circumvent your hand comedically, extended towards his ear. “We're on the roof of a four story historical building, Angel.”

You sit back, eyes searching the ground below. “Yeah, well in a college full of supe's, there's probably someone with super hearing.”

Mingi glances at his smart watch. “Shit, I’ve got class. Text me if you’re going.” And with that, the elastic body college student extended his leg and safely deposited his body to the green grass of the quad. 

You had some studying to do. If you were going to become a superhero in another country, there were a few languages you had to wrangle. Perhaps taking on more than one language class hadn't been the best idea but it was too late in the semester to drop one now. You spread your wings and take off towards your dorm building.

You were momentarily distracted flying over the track and field expanse from cheering. You swoop downwards to find Yunho was lifting an extended cab truck with one hand. You had a brief stint with Yunho during your freshman year, unlocking a strength kink, but also realizing you couldn't handle a supe with jealousy issues. Not towards yourself, no. In the school rankings, Yunho was always second to Jongho.

Speak of the devil, the school’s golden boy and top student, was drawing an even bigger crowd. He was using his laser sight to destroy targets and winked gratuitously at a gaggle of junior girls. You squeak when you have to avoid some of his freeze breath as he blew a kiss as well. Damn Jongho. 

You finally land in front of your dorm building when a broad-shoulder student cuts off your pathway inside. “Angel, you have a moment for me?”

You bit down on your lip nervously. San was always looking for an inside scoop as the editor of the Hala Gazette. You had nothing for him. “San, I’ve got to study!” You protest.

San’s broad shoulders morph, his hair lengthens to a bob, and now she leans forward with her ample cleavage. Didn’t matter what sex San was, his waist was still itty bitty, however. San also knew to play to your bi-weakness, which leaned towards the feminine body a lot. “Please?” she pouts.

Shit shit shit. Luckily, you’re saved by the roommate. “San, fuck off or I’ll report you to the Dean again! You know you can’t harass the students!”

San morphs back into his male body and sticks his tongue childishly at Nari. “I’ll find out eventually!”

Your head moves back and forth between the exchange of your roommate and your one night fling when you had drunk waaaaaay too many margaritas during post-finals. What the hell was going on?

“Angel, get up here before someone else harrasses you!” Nari shouts and then closes the window of your shared dorm space. 

You ironically take the stairs, somehow wanting to delay the passing of news. You had a gut feeling this wasn’t good. You pull your wings tight to your body so you can enter the door. “I’m not going to get any time to study, am I?” You ask your roommate.

Your roommate, with her ability of intuitive aptitude, aka she learns everything incredibly fast immediately, studies you intensely. “Have you looked at the rankings recently?”

You wince. “Did I drop again? They’re gonna kick me out, aren’t they?”

Nari looks delighted suddenly and your stomach dips. Without another word, she whips out her phone, taps the screen and then turns it towards you. Your eyes quickly scan the list: Jongho as number one, Yunho as number two, Mingi as number three, Nari as number four and then…

“I’m number five?” You gasp.

Nari tucks her phone into her back pocket. “Who did you blow recently?”

“No one,” You deny a little too quickly. 

Nari eyes you for a moment and then shrugs. “ ‘kay well, I can only protect you for so long. If you go to the Grinder and San gets her nails in you, you’re a goner.”

You grasp Nari’s small shoulders in your hands. “Please go with me tonight. I need you, bestie.”

“I'll go with you if you tell me what the hell is going on, Angel. Otherwise, I'm not risking Seonghwa portaling me into his bedroom tonight.”

His blunt nails dig into your forearm. "Please, you can't tell anyone. Especially Nari! She can't lie for shit.”

You avoid your roommate’s eyes completely. “It's nothing. I must have nailed my finals. You know how they like to randomly promote studies over physical or social achievements.”

Nari sighs loudly. “Alright, fine, I'll go with you tonight. You know I've always got your back, Angel.”

“I know,” You whisper, guilt squeezing your heart.

The Grinder, the aptly named college On-campus bar, was throwing a bikinis and beanies party. It was hard to dress around your wings but bikinis were easy for you. 

“Please tell me how bikinis and beanies are even fair to theme together. I’ve gotta be practically naked and guys get away with throwing a hat on?” Nari grumbles beside you as you both teeter on heels down the stairs to the basement club’s entrance. 

You gently nudge your roommate in the ribs. “The guys could be wearing bikinis too, you know.”

Nari pauses at the bottom of the stairs, shock written all over her face. “Oh.” You have to giggle at her. 

The party is in full force by the time you two squeeze through the crowd and order drinks. Nari wants to dance first but you have a feeling if you don’t spot San first, he’d get to you. 

“I’m going to the balcony!” You shout. 

Nari nods, getting into her groove and sipping her neon-green beverage. You keep an eye on the crowd, looking for the particular set of broad shoulders--or bob, but your eyes are drawn to the one student that always sticks out in a crowd.

Jongho raises a golden mug of beer, roars some kinda cheer and then chugs the entire thing like a viking reborn. He spots you across the room and his eyes widen. He smiles and claps others around him on the back and makes his way towards you. He doesn’t speak with you, however. With a sharp jerk of his head, he motions to the emergency exit. The alarm had long ago been disabled, the dark stairs to the rooftop being a perfect place to have clandestine affairs.

You had a feeling, however, Jongho wasn’t looking for a hook-up.

Jongho’s back was to you by the time you had climbed the stairs. His hands were shoved into his pockets and he was staring up at the sky. “Avoid Nari’s questions? Jongho asks, seemingly nonchalant.

“Yeah,” You mumbled, rubbing the back of your neck, “But Jongho…”

“Angel, you have to keep your promise. I know it’ll be hard but you know what’ll happen if the news hits. I’ll lose everything,” Jongho replies hoarsely.

Your throat tightens, struggling with your memories. It was all covered under a haze of drinking and drugs. Your friends with benefits relationship with Mingi pulled you into the scene of the top three. Jongho, Yunho and Mingi were quite popular, spots given to the top students of course. You were privy to their private parties and adventures, but this time it wasn’t all fun and games. 

Jongho’s look of horror as you were covered in shards of red-ice. Yunho’s suppressed anger. Mingi’s pancake state as his usually elastic body gave way to the lethargic drugs he had consumed. It had been a night…

“I’ll keep my mouth shut, Jongho, don’t worry about it.”

Jongho’s golden-boy smile is plastered across his face again, gums flashing and eyes disappearing. “Good. That’s all I need to hear.”

“Well well well, what do we have here? What’s number one and number five doing up here?”

You whirl around to see San in a bikini top with a fishnet cover-up and beanie. Most likely to make it easy for him to shift if he felt like it. He had on his signature smirk, but his eyes were burning with anger. It was well known that despite his hard work, San never broke the top five, and he resented anyone who did so with seemingly ease. It was obvious he now added you to that list. 

“Fuck off, San,” Jongho growls. 

San laughs, high pitched as if he’s simply delighted to be told off. “Language, Golden Boy. What’s wrong? Got something to hide?”

“San, now’s not a good time,” You hiss, gripping his upper arm through his fish-net top. 

San morphs, ignoring you. “Is this form more appealing to the two of you? If I fuck you both, could I knock Nari off her forth place?” she says with a saccharine-sarcastic tone. 

Jongho’s fists curl at his side and his breath comes out in cold-wisps. “I’ll only tell you once more,” he snarls, “Fuck. Off.”

“San, please!” You plead with her. “Don’t push this. Not tonight.”

San stage-sighs, her high voice making your legs clench. “Fine. But I’m not the only one that knows you two are up here.” San yanks her arm out of your grip and stomps down the stairs. 

You and Jongho both exchange looks. If Yunho saw you two exit together…

“Shit. Fuck. Christ,” Jongho rushes to the door. You almost follow him before he throws up a hand. “Fly down. I’ll send Mingi out. Yunho will cool down if he thinks you two are hooking up again. He can’t be angry at his bestie.”

You jump off the rooftop a second time today, wings spread to slow your descent. It doesn’t take long before Mingi’s wound his body around yours, and just in time too, as Yunho’s head can be seen peeking over the lip of the rooftop. Mingi’s high already, so it’s not hard for him to wander his hands--and lips--over your body, encouraged by his heightened senses. When Yunho’s head disappears, you gently pry Mingi from your body.

Mingi whines in protest. “C’mon Angel.”

“Not tonight, Mingi, please,” You ask, tiredness coating your tongue. “It’s been a day.”

“You should celebrate,” Mingi sighs, knowing a no when he hears it. He pulls back but his eyes are still begging. 

“I don’t need any Happy Dust, sir,” You gently scold him. “Let's go back in. I probably need to rescue Nari by now.”

“Fucking Nari,” Mingi growls good naturedly and you giggle. 

Unsurprisingly, Nari is on Seonghwa’s lap on the unused stage located at the front of the club. He uses his portal powers to call in his electric guitar and his hands are showing her some cords, his finger pushing on hers, and it’s suggestive as fuck. Your eyes meet across the room, like you two have some best friend psychic connection and Nari mouths “S.O.S” to you. 

You were about to sweep in and call it a night, when Yunho finally intercepts you. “Angel!”

“Yunho, if I don’t save Nari, I’ll never hear the end of it,” You try to deflect.

“Like you saved me?” Yunho says bluntly.

Your lips twitch in an attempt to not grimace. “Is now really the right time for this?”

“My father never should have--” Yunho blows some air out of his mouth, ruffling his fringe. “Listen, Angel, I appreciate you but everyone has so many questions. Maybe--”

You shake your head. “It’s done, Yunho. It’s been covered up. I don’t like it anymore than you do--”

Yunho laughs and it’s slightly bitter. “Don’t like being the new number five without having done truly anything? You’re so fucking like him, it hurts.”

Your back goes ramrod straight. “You know what? Fuck you, Yunho.” All this secrecy and for what? For Yunho to make you feel like shit? This wasn’t it.

Yunho rubs a hand over his face. “Shit. Sorry, Angel, I just--”

“Forget it, Yunho. Just get lost.” You shoulder past him, unapologetically letting him get a faceful of your wings. 

You climb onto the stage and throw your wings out to full span. “I know I’m supposed to be your guardian angel tonight, but do you think we could get out of here?” You plead to Nari.

Nari takes two seconds to absorb all the emotions written across your face and she nods resolutely. “Hwa, another night.”

Seonghwa looks disappointed but he’s not without some empathy. So he lets go of Nari, not without a soft pat to her ass, but he opens a portal. “Straight to your dorm room,” he sends you an award winning smile.

You both step through and Nari immediately grabs your blanket and carefully, but thoughtfully wraps it around your body. “For what it’s worth, Angel,” she says through a yawn, “Jongho isn't that bad of a choi--”

The both of you flinch as a huge boom echoes through the campus. The two of you run to your window and red flames reflect from the distance on your faces. 

“Is that the…” It couldn't be coming from the club you two had just left.

“Fuck,” You curse for the umpteenth time this evening. 

A huge chunk gets thrown through the air and laser’s destroy it.

“Double fuck,” Nari echoes you. 

Bonus content: Nari x Seonghwa

All's fair in love and war, except when you’re a supe.

#cultofdionysusnet #pirateeznet #kvanity #kwritersworldnet #ateez scenarios #choi san scenarios #choi jongho scenarios #jeong yunho scenarios #jasper 🌼 #topaz's work #recent #ღatz

[princesssmars]

one last night

a five hargreeves x reader

its the end of the world. might as well make the most of it.

wc: 2.001

contains: fluff, angst, and swearing bc theyre all gonna die. five being a lovable grumpy shit. in my head five is physically the same age as aidan bc look at that mf and tell me hes 13 PLEASE.

a/n: the new season broke me so im writing this and reading fics to cope. i wrote it confusingly but the hand grab dance scene is based on that scene from the end of bridgerton season 2 bc kates eyes...i need to bring a man down with doe eyes like that fr. anyway hope yall enjoy.

.

well. this is it. the end of the world. the last days of your life. not how you imagined you'd go out, to be honest. you put the chances of dying during a commission assignment at about 98%. frankly a little low.

but you’d always been a little optimistic, so the remaining 2% went to your own personal fantasy. that maybe, one day, you'd retire from the commission. maybe use a briefcase to settle down somewhere of your choosing and live out the rest of your days in peace. and maybe, you would live out those days with your best friend. and, maybe, if you really wanted to push it, he'd turn from best friend to something more.

but that dream doesn't matter anymore, does it? you, along with your partner and his family had made the fuck up of a lifetime and created a kugelblitz - the end all of everything. its almost funny. how you'd given up most of your life to "fixing the timeline" just to end up ruining all of them.

hilarious.

so, here you are. in a shittily-lit hotel room getting dressed for a quickly put-together wedding at the end of the world.

god, how your life has changed.

you hear a knock at the door, saying a silent “come in.” to whoever stands behind it.

a soft smile graces your face when you see five enter the room. he stops a few steps from the doorway as he observes you, likely noticing how you'd dressed up more than usual. "you sure clean up nice, hargreeves." you tease, smiling as he does.

"well, you don't look half bad yourself." he takes in more of your outfit, looking you up and down. you feel your face heat up.

"a genuine compliment from the five hargreeves himself? it truly is the end of the world."

"im a man who tells the truth, you know this better than anyone." he keeps walking until he stands next to you, automatically raising his head so you can fix his tie.

"even when people don't want to hear it." you give him a knowing look as you do his tie for him. he knows how, but likes how you do it better. he likes to pretend you don't know.

"especially then."

when you finish fixing the tie, you smooth it over and run your hands over his vest. you look him in the eyes to see him already looking at you with an emotion in his that you can't quite place.

you want to ask him how he feels. about what happened when you went to the commission and saw everything you'd ever known just gone. about never getting longer than a day to just rest. about your impending doom.

about you.

he opens his mouth to speak but you both startle as a sharp knock sounds from the door.

you look over to see a slightly awkwardly standing viktor, who moves his hands to his pockets after gesturing to the hallway.

"hey, uh.. its time for us all to head down, the ceremony is about to start."

both of your lips purse into awkward smiles as he stands in the doorway for a few more seconds before exiting quietly.

its silent for a few more seconds as the two of you stand there. the moment has passed. yet again reminded of your fate.

he looks at you again with a soft yet slightly sad smile. "well, my dear, are you ready to face our imminent doom while getting stupidly drunk with my family?"

you laugh slightly at his dry delivery and grasp his hand in yours.

"ready as i'll ever be."

.

.

.

the ceremony is sickly sweet, perfect for the match-up that is luther and sloane. the way they look at each other during their vows pulls on your heartstrings. but you have to remind yourself that you're happy for them. there's no point in being jealous or sad now.

after the ceremony, you and your merry band of heroes make it to the dance floor, with you and allison heading straight to the drinks table. you watched her as she downed her glass in a few seconds, feeling bad at the state of the woman who you've come to know as a close friend. but if you were in her position you would have gone off the rails long ago. a voice in the back of your head tells you you have.

the reception is lovely, and the bride and groom very much in love despite the weirdness of it all. and the fact that they choose to prioritize and focus on their love rather than the apocalyptic events happening just outside…it gives you a sense of hope.

when reginald gives his speech it's safe to say everyone in the room is stunned. you've barely gotten to know three variations of the hargreeves patriarch but you know that he's far from a pleasant person. during late nights doing paperwork at the commission you and five would share stories about your respective childhoods, with his being as dark as you expected from the stand-offish man. but it felt nice to know that he trusted you so deeply.

after the initial reception, there's some downtime for everyone to indulge in the surprisingly above-average food from the hotel's bar and restaurant. you get yourself a plate before sitting at a table near the back of the room, silently eating and drinking and observing the family around you.

you're interrupted by lila pulling out and sitting in the chair next to yours, sitting sideways to look you dead on.

“would you please stop with the puppy dog eyes and make a move on that little turd? seeing the two of you dance around each other has made me sick for years.”

your voice sputters as you try to come up with an excuse, having not expected the girl to call you out so brazenly. she raises her eyebrows as she knows she got you stuck and you let out a sigh.

“it wouldn't matter if i did. even if he felt the same we’re all going to die in a day's time. and id rather not spend this last day with him awkwardly.”

“so you're going to die wondering? never knowing if he liked you back? and i thought i was dumber when it came to relationships.”

“that's still debatable.”

“hey!” she lightly punches you in the shoulder, laughing at your slight wince. “you know im right. not to get sappy but… it's much better when they know how much you care.

as she speaks her gaze wanders over to diego and you have to hold yourself back from rolling your eyes at the sight of their barely hidden lovesickness.

you were close to brushing off her comments again when her arm quickly juts out to knock into yours, lifting her chin slightly to the left. you turn your head and none other than five stands beside you, his hands stuffed into his jacket pockets before one comes out to lay flat in front of you.

“would you care for a dance, y/n?”

with his abnormally soft smile (and lila’s not-so-subtle jab to your other arm), you accept his offer and gently place your hand in his so he can lead you to the dance floor. you can’t help but notice how there's a slow song playing and the only other couple on the dance floor are the newlyweds.

he turns from leading you to standing right in front of you, the closeness taking you by surprise. he smiles at you, moving your hands to wrap around his arms as his go around your waist and shoulder.

“a waltz? seriously? you always seemed to hate those at the company dances.” you tease.

“probably because gertrude wallhaven would always try to dance with me.”

“she just had a little crush on you. lots of the women did. you were the five hargreeves, after all.”

five smiles at your words, starting the slow dance that you know by heart. “is that a bit of jealousy i hear?”

you scoff and roll your eyes. five always was a tease when he drank. “you’d like it to be, wouldn't you? ever the conceited one.”

he huffs a short laugh, swinging you around quickly so you do the same. “well, that is one reason.”

“and what may be the other one, if you would be so kind as to inform me.” you smile up at him, the alcohol starting to take an effect on you and cause you to become more open than usual.

“that I'm deeply in love with you and its been driving me crazy-ow!”

your mind is completely blank for a few seconds before you realize that not only have you stopped dancing but you that you also just crushed five’s foot with your own.

“oh my god, five, im so sorry,” you quickly trying to apologize and help your struggling partner. he stands up as straight as he can, slightly bent on his right side as he waves your worries off.

“peter donahue always did say you had a killer stomp on the dance floor. now i can see why he kept going to the infirmary.” five gives you a strained smile, taking your hands in his again.

“just another one of my many talents.”

you both restart your dance, this time with no words shared. five occasionally tries to hold eye contact with you, and you make sure to avoid it every time. you don't know what to make of his confession. if it was heartfelt or a spur-of-the-moment confession that was given since you would all be dead within a day. you knew as soon as you looked into his bright eyes you would crumble.

but five knew that like he knew everything about you. he took your hand and grasped your fingers together before bringing your arms above your heads and bringing them down between you, and you cant help but stare into his eyes as he does the same.

“please tell me you meant it. because if you didn't then i don't know what i’d do.” you plead, grasping his hand to your chest.

“do you remember that mission in bali, where we had to terminate that guy who found a cure for cystic fibrosis? we there for maybe two hours and you kept complaining about the heat.”

“it was a steady 80 degrees and we were wearing commission suits, of course i was miserable.”

“im aware. it was when we finally killed the guy and you took some of his cash to get some better clothes and you somehow managed to convince me to come down with you to the beach. we were sitting in the sand and it was annoying as all hell but you seemed so happy that i couldn't even complain. and i just knew.”

your chest tightens. “knew what?”

“that i loved you. that i still do. and that i’m an idiot for waiting so long to tell you. guess our impending doom and the cheap liquor finally gave me the courage to say something.” he finishes, holding you close as you stand in the middle of the dance floor. you know some of his siblings are bound to be staring because of the close display but you can find it in you to care. all that matters is that you finally have the love of your life in your arms, even if just for a short while.

“not to be pushy but i haven't heard an “i love you” back so im getting pretty worried over here.” five jokes, staring at you with love but worry in his eyes

you laugh at five’s joke, bringing your lips to his cheek to give him a short but sweet kiss. “i love you too, partner.”

“good. now, what do you say we get drunk off our asses and have the best night of our lives with my dysfunctional family?

you smile. “i couldn't ask for anything better.”

.

.

#the umbrella academy #tua #tua s3 #five hargreeves #five hargreaves x reader #allison hargreeves #viktor hargreeves #luther hargreeves #diego hargreeves #lila pitts #klaus hargreeves #tua x reader #fluff #angst

[starlightsearches]

Roll for Initiative pt. 2

FIND PART ONE HERE

Sorry for the wait, my loves! This story went through a few iterations before I was happy with it, but I have to say I love the finished project. Let me know what you think!!

requests are always open but I'm slow

Eddie Munson x Femme! Reader

Warnings: language, pining, some sexual content but still sfw, happy ending :') Let me know if I missed anything 💖

Eddie shouldn’t have let you come to this session.

He should have lied. Should have made up some story about how Wheeler was allergic to pretty girls and he’d die if you came within fifty feet of him. The truth, even, would be better than this. He might have survived if he’d taken your hands in his, pulled you close and told you that he’s trying so desperately to get over you and that having you at Hellfire would ruin him all over again. 

But he was absolute goo the second you asked. Your smile flipped the off switch in his brain, making it so he could only say whatever he thought you wanted to hear. 

And now the freshmen are watching him and the guys are watching him and the whole time he’s watching you and they have to know. They have to feel the tremors that run through the floor, his leg bouncing wildly with all this excess energy, the way his words catch in the middle of a sentence every time he feels your eyes trace over his features. They have to sense the sting of jealousy he shoots in their direction whenever he hears you laugh at something one of them said. 

It’s killing him. 

But he survives the night, just barely. Dustin gives Mike a look while they’re cleaning up—gathering their character sheets and dice and tossing a few empty cans of Mountain Dew into the trash. The kid flashes his eyes between where you sit—talking with Gareth about some class you’re in together—and Eddie’s throne, a smug grin on his stupid little face. Eddie chews on the edge of his tongue in an attempt to curb his jealousy. What kind of a world do they live in where Dustin fucking Henderson has a girlfriend and Eddie’s too much of a pussy to make a move?

The guys filter out the theater doors. Jeff is the last out, and he spares Eddie a final look, waggling his eyebrows cartoonishly. Eddie flips him off just before he disappears. 

“That was cool,” you tell him, alone on the stage. Your shoulder brushes his, and he swallows hard as you help him collect the manuals and the figurines. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” you continue as he watches, lips curved at the edge, hair gleaming in the stage lights, “and the guys all seemed really into it. You’re a good storyteller.”

“Well maybe you’re just easily impressed,” Eddie jokes, but he keeps his head down—hoping you won’t notice the heat that crops up in his cheeks at your compliment. The burn reaches all the way to his ears when he feels you brush your shoulder against his again, on purpose this time, staring up at him with an indecipherable smile.  

“Walk me home?” 

Eddie does, hands shoved deep in the pockets of his jacket. Your house isn’t too far from the school—a five minute drive if you’d taken his van, but the upholstery all reeks of weed. He wouldn’t want to get you in trouble with your parents.

Besides, this way he gets to spend more time with you.

It’s a cloudless night, the stars big and bright beyond the reach of the trees, just the slightest hint of chill in the air. He matches your pace, whispered conversation punctuated by the gentle shuffle of leaves under your feet. The silence is easier to fill when no one is watching him, when you’re too busy admiring the night sky to stun him with the magic in your eyes. 

He takes the chance to study you through his peripherals as you wrap your arms around yourself. Eddie watches skin meet skin, wonders how soft it would feel under his knuckles if he brushed them along your arm—wonders if he could get you to press against him, like he’d been craving, under the guise of sharing some body heat. 

“You cold?”

You glance up at him, and any thought of touching you is out the window, the awkward crunch of gravel exposing his stumbling foot steps. It’s really that easy for you to throw him off his balance.

You pull your arms tighter, a shiver in your voice. “A little, but I’ll be alright.”

Eddie’s already shrugging his shoulders out of his jacket, shaking the sleeve a little when it catches on his watch and trying not to blush when you laugh. 

“You don’t have to do that,” you tell him, but he still holds it out for you, waiting for you to slip your arms in.

“Don’t worry about it, babe.” He can smell your shampoo, standing this close behind you—or maybe it’s perfume—something sweet and light to cut through the heavy, wet smell of the forest. “It looks better on you anyway.”

And fuck, it really does. He could get used to seeing you in his clothes.

You just roll your eyes at him, pulling him back down to earth. “Whatever, Munson.” 

Gravel and potholes soon give way to the neatly manicured lawns and familiar sidewalks of your neighborhood; in the distance, he can see the peaked chimney of your house, modest compared to most of your classmates but a fucking castle compared to his own.

You lead him up the steps to your front door, slipping your way out of his jacket and passing it to him. He holds it draped over his arms, tongue peeking out between his lips as he eyes the neat white trim around your door and darkened windows. You’re glowing in the porch light, arms folded shyly in front of you—like this was a date, and you’re waiting for a kiss goodnight. 

Eddie’s just fooling himself, though. He’s not that kind of guy. 

“Thanks for letting me come tonight,” you whisper, blinking up at him, stars in your eyes.

“Yeah,” he coughs, trying hard not to think about kissing you, about warming your chilled cheeks in the palms of his hands—letting you keep his jacket and only taking it back when it smelled like you or any of the other bullshit a boyfriend would do, “no problem.”

He's about to step away—off your porch and into the night, back to his musty van and shitty trailer and the firm grasp of reality. It’s your fingers wrapping around his arm instead. 

“Wait,” you stop him, and Eddie reels at your touch, “I finished that book you lent me.”

The Colour of Magic by Terry Pratchett. You’d caught him reading it (hiding out in the library during your student aide period when he was supposed to be in Mrs. O’Donnell’s) and asked to borrow it once he was done. He’d given it to you the next day. He was only halfway through.

You’ve got to stop touching him, or he’s going to do something he’ll regret. “Just bring it tomorrow, or whenever. I don’t need it back.”

“No, I don’t want to forget it again. Come up and grab it.” You pull him up on the step beside you, keys jangling as you push open the door, ushering him through. 

That’s new. He’s never been inside your house before, and you didn’t have to tell him why. Parents were never thrilled to see their kids running around with a guy like Eddie, especially not their daughters. He eyes the dark entrance. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, it’s fine. My parents are out of town.”

My parents are out of town.  If he were anybody else, those words would mean something good was about to happen. He wonders if you’ve said that to any of the other guys at school, about to burst with jealousy as he follows you up the stairs. Picturing some dickhead like Travis or Tommy with their hands under the hem of your shirt, shoving their tongue down your throat on the stairwell because they were too impatient to reach a bed.  

God, it makes him want to vomit. 

“My room’s just here,” you tell him, pressing open the door and flicking on the light. He recognizes the lace at the bottom of your frilly curtains. Second window to the left. There’d been nights he’d taken the long way home from a gig or a party or a deal, slowing to a crawl on the off chance he’d see your shadow pass by.

He’s not sure what he expected the rest of the room to look like, and it looks like you’re still not sure, either. It’s practically empty, especially when he compares it to his own. What is there is almost sickeningly sweet—a vanity mirror covered in lip gloss containers and scrunchies, clean white sheets with a little frill around the edges, a Harrison Ford poster you’d obviously ripped out of a magazine before sticking it crookedly on the baby pink wall. 

He holds back a laugh. It’s so easy for him to picture the way you must have looked, perched on the end of your bed as you taped the picture in place—maybe a small moment of rebellion against strict parents who try too hard to keep you from growing up, steering you away from loud music and boys and anything else that scares them. 

He’d be happy to pose for a few more posters, if you were looking to make the space feel more like your own.

“I left it over here, I think,” you steal back his attention from Harrison, bending at the waist as you search through your books, ass high in the air and legs stretched long.

Jesus Christ. Eddie should be number one on the list of things your parents are afraid of with the way his heart is racing and his palms itch. He wants to see you plant your palms against those shelves until the marks don’t fade, wants to hear the bookshelf slap against the wall in time with each of his thrusts. 

 He keeps his eyes on the ceiling, memorizing the patterns in its texture and counting his breaths, but he’s still haunted by the echoes of nonexistent moans.

“Found it.” 

Your footsteps are softened by the carpet, and he drops his chin to look at you, glancing at the bright-red book held in front of you. Eddie grabs it with both hands—ready to get the hell out of Dodge—but you don’t let go.

“Hey, Eddie?” You tug slightly on your end of the book, pulling him half a step closer, bodies parallel lines.

“Yeah?” 

The air is too thick to breathe. He’s lost control of all his motor functions, staring at you with his mouth open like an idiot. You’re gnawing on your lip when he meets your eyes, and he’s melting. 

There’s hesitation in your voice, lips dark and plush with blood from the way you’re chewing on them. “Do you like me?”

Oh shit. He knew he hadn’t been subtle, but he’d always at least hoped that you wouldn’t pick up on it. It was one thing to have his friends call him a pussy and make fun of him for being whipped; it’s a whole other thing hearing it from you. 

“What’re you talking about? Of course I like you—” Eddie swallows, trying and failing to keep his cool, “we’re friends.”

Your wrists twist unexpectedly, moving in until the book is pressed flat against his stomach, sandwiched against your own. 240 pages—that’s all that separates him from you, and it’s far from enough. He should have lent you the entire Lord of the Rings series—an illustrated copy. Should have given you a textbook, a bible, something with heft—something that would keep him out of your electric field.

A shiver crawls up his spine when you come in close, voice soft and breath hot against his ear. 

“I don’t mean as friends.”

“Okay, fuck—” Eddie steps back, shaking, with fear and regret and the overwhelming need to be needed by someone who doesn’t even want him, “I’m sorry, I’ll leave you the alone, I just—”

“Eddie, wait—” 

There’s the press of your hand on his cheek, soft palms and delicate fingers. He places his hand over your own, just to make sure it’s really there.

“I don’t want you to leave me alone.”

Oh. He’d be less surprised if you started floating around the room, or grew a pair of fangs. Sucked the blood right from his jugular vein. He’d let you, if you tried. 

“Really?” 

You smile, a laugh bubbling up from your throat. “I want you to do whatever the opposite would be.” 

No bloodsucking, just a soft smile, the tip of your finger brushing a stray curl back behind his ear. The book falls to the floor with a papery clatter, and there’s nothing left between you. 

“Can- can I kiss you?”

Maybe it’s uncool for him to ask, but he hasn’t felt nerves like these in a long ass time . . . maybe ever. His stomach is a whole fucking tsunami when he wraps his fingers around the back of your neck, tracing over the soft hairs there as he brings you closer. Your big eyes are swallowing him up with each inch that disappears between you. He thought he found stars in them before, but now he’s seeing galaxies.

You keep your voice small so it can fit in the space that’s left. “Please?”

And he’s pretty sure there’s no god, but he’s been praying to somebody for this moment. Eddie strokes his tongue over his lips, leaning down before he loses his nerve.

You kiss him back. Even in his dreams, that part seemed a little out there, and he never guessed you’d be so determined to hold on to him. Pulling at his neck until he bends at the waist with a surprised little oof, you’re tasting him, lips melting against his until all he can smell and feel is cherry chapstick and skin.

And it’s just . . . god damn, he’s gotta remember this forever. The way you’re touching him, the way you feel—it makes Eddie weak at the knees. 

He falls back. There’s a small part of him that worries he might fucking faint right here in the middle of your bedroom, head swimming and extremities buzzing like they’re packed with bees.

He hears your voice like it’s coming from the other side of the room, even though you’ve still got a thumb pressed against his quivering pulse. “You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Deep breaths. Deep breaths. Don’t look down, Eddie—aw, fuck. “I just- god, you’re so fucking pretty.”

You smile at him, and it’s a wide one, a smile that’s got all your features turned up to eleven—a set your phasers to stun kind of smile. “Thanks, Eddie. You’re pretty, too.”

He’s just lucky you drop his gaze right as his lungs start to burn. He gulps down a breath, brushing a palm over your waist. 

“I should probably go—” before I do something stupid. The last part is implied, but he lays a heavy glance in the direction of your bed anyways, dreaming about the stains he could leave on those pristine sheets—

Fuck. He’s already sporting a semi—impossible to hide in jeans as tight as his—and you’re not helping. Eddie trembles when he feels your hand pet down over his stomach, his belt, fingertips just barely grazing the outline of his cock.

“Are you sure?”

God, he wishes he wasn’t. 

“D- don’t have a condom,” he gasps. Really, if he knew he had even the slightest chance with you, he’d have at least ten on him at all times. Keep a couple in his shoes if he ran out of space in his pockets, hide one somewhere in his hair.

“I don’t want to leave you like this,” you pout, bending at the knees, eyes locked on his. He stops you with his hands cupped at both elbows. He never thought he’d get a chance like this. He wants to do it right. 

“Please,” Eddie’s voice has picked up a rasp somewhere in the last few minutes, “I can wait, baby. I want it to be good, you know, for both of us when it happens.”

You raise your brows incredulously; Eddie’s waiting for you to call him a pussy or something. He’s showed his hand too early, and you could take it all right out from under him.

So he’s surprised to feel your lips press against the tip of his nose, and then a soft peck at his lips. 

“You’re the sweetest, Eddie Munson.”

Eddie follows you back down the steps, your hand in his, kisses you in the yellow porch light and it’s better than he imagined, pressing his tongue against your lips while you sigh into his mouth.

He’s halfway down the sidewalk before he turns back.

“Wait—” he calls out, just before you shut the door behind you, shaking his way out of his jacket for the second time tonight. The denim’s still a little warm, balled up in his hands where he grips it like a bouquet of flowers, holding it out at arm’s length.

“Would you- would you wanna wear it, you know, to school tomorrow?”

Eddie gulps down a deep breath; he’s lucky the air’s so cold, because he’s fucking on fire, watching your eyes trace a path down from his face, over his Hellfire shirt before landing on the jacket. You both know the question he’s really asking. Your lips press together in a smile you try so hard to dampen. 

“Of course I will, Eddie.”

He drops the jacket into your waiting hands, steals one last kiss before the door closes. 

There’s all this energy inside him fighting it’s way out—Eddie takes off from your porch at a run, just barely managing to hold back the yell behind his lips. 

Eddie fucking Munson got himself a girlfriend.

tags: @wonderless-screwup

#eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fics #my writing

[a-gal-with-taste]

Vanity (NSFW)

Summary: Everyone is, but no one likes to display their vanity. Cataloging and admiting every aspect of their features in a mirror - the narcissism is just a bit much. When there's someone else in the view, however, it's understandable to want to admire it.

Warnings: NSFW|MDNI. Sinday oneshot, GN!Reader, mirror sex, fingering, rough sex, one-night-stand, consensual but rough choking, dirty-talk, spit as lube, sub/dom elements

You walked into the bar, and believed that no eyes were on you.

Understandable, given the late-hour. Couples are deep in slow make-out mode, bar's slowed down to a trickle of patrons, and even the music is a deep, sensual bass than a tune that gets the blood raising.

There's no need for the music to get you heated and excited - a glance up to the second-floor balcony, and the single pair of eyes gazing down at you, and your body feels ready to melt in place.

You manage, and take a seat near the staircases, waving down for a drink instead of getting your own. A smart move... only about five minutes passed, before there's a hand tracing the back of your seat. It's gloved, and you shiver at the cold-leather that brushes along your the nape of your neck. Hair stands on end as it seems to slow, like his touch savoring the bit of contact, and more importantly, savoring your reaction to his touch.

You imagine he's quite pleased, when you let out a quick breath as his fingers loosely curl over your shoulder.

A sort of interrogation begins, nothing like that time Enforcers came knocking in your neighborhood, but there's a dangerous-edge to the conversation regardless, and you decide to make truth your new best-friend.

"You're new."

"Lived here all my life."

"You've yet to introduce yourself."

You give him your name, and you can almost hear his smile as he repeats it underbreath, almost bemused.

"And you chose tonight to come to The Last Drop, because...?"

Truth, your best-friend. You shrug, "Wanted some new sights. Same old bars, same old shit... needed something new to look at."

There's a pause, and it's filled with your breathing and his, and his thoughts, loud and clear as he silently mulls over your words. That glove-hands leaves shivers as it travels, moving from your shoulder, passing your collar, fingers curling around your neck.

His touch is gently, as he subtly presses against your swallowing-throat. Lips parting to try and suck in another gulp of air, when it's suddenly become so difficult to breathe, you follow the silent instruction and begin to tip your head back.

Back, until your head touches the backboard of your seat. Back, until you're staring straight up.

Back, until your eyes meet two others - one seagreen, the other a hypnotic swirl of shadow and blood-reds.

It makes you shiver, moreso when the owner of those eyes taps the pads of his fingers in an almost absent beat against your pulse.

"If you're looking for something new," He murmurs, his other gloved-hand coming down, and gently tugging the untouched drink from your grasp. "I think I can provide."

And provide, he does. By Janna, does he provide.

It's almost too much. He knows it, and knows you know it, by the breathy snarl of a chuckle he breathes against your neck.

And you know, because you can see it. You can see your bare-chest heaving, every muscle simultaneously wired, and on the verge of melting as your knuckles ache with how tightly you grip for support. Eyes flutter as you groan - muffled, with three gloved fingers stuffing your mouth, pressing down on your tongue as you struggle not to drool.

Any other time, the urge to gag would be urgent as leather fills your senses, not to mention the slow, almost clinically methodical motion as coaxed his digits, in then out, in and out...

"Your mouth takes me so well," He murmurs into the shell of your ear, where his teeth have slowly scrapped against the lobe, earning another muffled whimper, and he laughs. "Difficult to speak? I'm being gracious... you're still able to slobber. And breathe."

The hand that had been wrapped around your front, pinning you in-placw against him with a specifically-place palm splayed on your uppermost of your inner-thigh, snakes up, and you honest-to-Gods whimper as fingers close tight around your throat. The man keeps his promise, and leaves just enough for you to breathe.

You raise your hooded eyes, gazing into your reflection in front of you.

He certainly wasn't lying about seeing something new... you've never seen yourself like this, and you're intent to drink in every detail.

"Look at you," He breathes, dragging his fingers ever-so-slowly from your mouth - there's no release on your neck. In fact, his grip tightens minutely on a inhale, leaving you to wheeze against his fingers. "You took these so well in your mouth... other places will surely be just as agreeable."

Agreeable, indeed.

As his hand snakes down and around, your body jerks with a choked whine coiling from your mouth, soaked digits and inhumanly-smooth fingers pressing and massaging you as he tips his head, finding a leverage point on your neck to bite down on when he presses in, and you jerk again.

Desperation shines in your eyes with your tears. Overwhelmed and pleasure, your throat aches both inside and out from relentless ministrations. And they are indeed relentless - your eyes are damn-near on the verge of rolling as a first knuckle passes, easing smoothing into a second.

"That's it," He growls into your skin, pleased eyes meeting yours in the reflection before you as your hips jerk backwards when he spreads his fingers, just-enough leave you seeking more. "Use it. Take it and use what I'm giving you... you're soon to recieve even more."

Gods, you hope so.

You're more than willing to take, and this is shown in the way you flatten your palms on the surface of the mirror, pressing back into his fingers in time with his knuckles tensing around your neck. Red-marks already splotches your skin in the shape of his digits... or are they dotted black? Oxygen is becoming more stranger than constant-companion, and the world seems to close in around you from the darkness. Importance is dwindling, save for what you're watching in front of your eyes: fingers beginning to set a pushing pace between your legs, seagreen and hellish-red watching as you grow unwound from pleasure, and the world's edges grow darker, darker, darker...

The world comes back in a wheeze and a burst, and you all but fall-forward, nearly crashing against the mirror. You're held up, not by your neck, but by a hand around your hip, while the other makes quick work behind you...

Unable to see, but his intent becomes clear when you hear the frantic snapping of buttons being undone.

"Fuck..." You croak as the head of his cock presses close to you, and gloved digits almost pet at the skin of your hip. In comfort, or in easing what you're already ready, and more than just wanting for? You're not sure of the motive either way, and don't find it in you to care, as fingers once more curl at your throat, and the head of his cock begins pushing into you.

"Watch."

Yes, please.

Your eyes strain with how you widen them, mouth falling open and... he laughs, low and somewhat choked into your ear when he sees you trying not to salivate at the sight. Rocking into you with slow, but sharp movement that have your hips jerking, and nails biting into the frame of the mirror, he speaks breathlessly against the akin beneath your ear, "Here I... I thought nothing could top having myself in your mouth. I do so enjoy sometimes being proven wrong."

You couldn't agree more. Because you thought nothing could top the feel of his gloved fingers, in you, and around your jugular, but the twitch of his cock inside you as you clench at the sensitive of him gliding in, leaves you to whimper and pant mutely, fogging the mirror before you.

There's a dull thud when your forehead drops against the fogged-up surface, and he pushes in full-hilt, pelvis to backside, with his own forehead dropped between your shoulderblades.

Fingers flex, enough for you to suck in a full-breath - and you immediately use it to utter one, desperate word as you rock your hips, failing to by the steel-like grip on your hip, "Please."

There's a rasp, not quite a laugh, but he raises his head, tilting to catch your pleasure-hooded gaze in the mirror. "Watch," He commands, before pulling back, and rocking roughly into you, dragging an unholy sound straight from the bottom of your lungs

And you do.

Vain as it might be, you can't look away. From the absolute mess you've become, and the mess he's turning you into... you can't even look away from him. Grey-streaks strands, falling over his face in a haphazard pattern, something feral beginning to build in his eyes as he tilts his head, suckling and nipping everywhere on your skin that isn't covered by his massive hand...

The world fluctuates between bright spots and dark ones, in time with the periodic tensing and clenching of his fingers around you. The lightness you feel from it, is juxtaposed by the harsh, heavy thrusts that send you forward against the reflection with each movement.

Is it vain, to want to watch this? To watch yourself come undone, and the undoing of the one leading you there by a hand around your neck?

Your mind is buzzing too much, nerves lighting too much, probably in response to restricted oxygen to the brain to care to answer those questions

Instead, you only answer Silco's, huffed between growing pants and stifled groans.

"P... prettiest sight you've ever seen, I-i... I imagine?"

You answer in time with your climax, and you only answer with a scream of his name.

By the way he groans out your name in time with his own, you imagine that's the sound of him agreeing.

#silco x reader #silco #arcane #silco arcane #arcane silco #mdni