Tumgik
#and before this she seemed fine if a bit loud
nocturnowlette · 3 days
Text
I accidentally revealed a little experiment I was doing to my subject, today, so I finally get to tell you all about it.
I honestly didn't think that covert hypnotic triggers were a thing due to the constant annoying mysticism and years of bad science around hypnosis, as well as stuff like subliminals having absolutely zero actual effects. However, with some testing, I have been delightfully surprised.
To be clear, by a covert trigger, I do not mean a trigger that was given under trance explicitly then had the subject forget or be unaware of when used. I mean a trigger that is installed, reinforced, and used entirely without the subject noticing. It'd be more accurate to call this a preconscious trigger, but the linguistic gods disagree, I suppose.
I decided to use my favorite subject, and someone I'm close with in many ways. I've already trained general obedience into her over time, but have always allowed her to be rebellious because it's fun for the both of us. However...
There's a phrase I liked to use on occasion during trance and outside of it when I'm being a little gently degrading: the phrase, "Isn't that right?" at the end of sentences. Leading questions are natural for gentle domination, and I had already been doing it, so I decided to use it a little bit more often, and with intention.
For about two weeks straight, while under trance and while training general obedience or otherwise while messing with them, I would go, "Isn't that right?" exclusively for questions that were an absolute yes. There's no reason she wouldn't say yes to it, and so, she did, every single time.
The next week or two, I would start peppering in the phrase for slight disagreements. That's to say, things that were a yes, but something that she'd make a small fuss about normally to be rebellious. To my surprise, any time I used the phrase, all rebellion seemed to stop. I actually thought she caught on and was doing it intentionally, but she didn't respond when I signaled that to her.
A few weeks later, after more and more reinforcement, to the point where it was a very common part of my everyday vocabulary, I was able to completely quell any fire she brought up. I would do a short explanation or rationalization, then end the sentence with, "Isn't that right?", and poof, the rebellion goes away.
I accidentally revealed it today as stated due to showing a list of notes I used to keep track of triggers for subjects, but luckily, by the time she found out, it was one of the most potent triggers I had for her. It still works just fine.
Before she did find out, I finally got to hear what she sounded like after all the training when I said it out loud, as I mostly reinforced it via text. It sounded like her voice turned droopy and monotone entirely and only for when she agreed, then went back to normal. It was really, really cute, and I had to stifle a giggle or two.
Luckily, I didn't write down the other few covert triggers I have for her. I'll be having fun with those for a good while longer.
479 notes · View notes
cowboystatic · 2 years
Text
i know i said i was going to bed but i woke up in a cold sweat remembering today when i was talking to homophobia girl coworker (who i thought was a lesbian at first bc who else looks like that and wears a chain) and a few other people n i was like “okay top three favorite songs right now. go” and her very first answer was viva la vida by coldplay
6 notes · View notes
theirloveisgross · 1 month
Text
.
#My friend said something to me a while ago and I haven't been able to stop thinking about it#In the moment I snorted on the inside#And now I could laugh out loud about it#So. They were in a long-term relationship that had issues and ended last year#She met someone right after and were friendly and whatnot and a few months later were dating them already#Which... Great. They seem way happier and I'm genuinely happy for them (although in my selfish aromantic way)#And so she was commenting the other way that they'd been talking about how they jumped into the relationship so fast#Even after both of them had been in long ones before blah blah#And my friend told me 'but you know I think it's fine. I told them that it felt good and why wouldn't we do this if it felt good...#Even IF SOCIETY IS TELLING ME NOT TO JUMP INTO IT TOO FAST we shouldn't care about it and just go for it'#And I swear I internalized that shit friends. Hajshajshja.#What the fuck do you mean society is telling you not be in a relationship? Hasjhahss. Who is this society?#Literally. You can do whatever you want that makes you feel good but don't tell me you were feeling pressured by society hajsha.#In a sense I DO GET IT because some people might be 'wait weren't you with someone else a few months ago' sure.#But like. Literally. Lhahsahs. Sorry. I just needed to write it down somewhere because my brain couldn't let it go.#Especially me. An aromantic in a literal amatonormative society.#Anyway... 🙃#(This friend does get a bit defensive when I want to talk about how most people prioritize romantic relationships over friendships and stuff#I tried once and it felt very frustrating because they were like 'well but they're different' and I was like 'yes but my point is that#romantic relationships always end up as top priority' and I could just see they didn't agree because they have lots of friends but yeah#my dude we get relegated when you're with someone romantically. Anyway. They'll never get it. It's fine. I'm used to it)
1 note · View note
ohproserpine · 4 months
Text
iii. deer dolly
see all chapters here tags: fem! reader, reader is a performer in a speakeasy, jealousy, possessiveness, written before episode 7; may become inaccurate, gorey-ish descriptions of love, murder
The next night, Alastor returned in unusually high spirits. He practically dragged you onto the dance floor, twirling you around in dizzying circles for eight whole rounds. If you hadn't asked him to stop, you might have ended up collapsing from sheer exhaustion.
As it was a Saturday night and you weren't scheduled to perform, the trio of you settled in at the bar, enjoying drinks and each other's company as the night wore on.
"Come on, doll! Bottoms up!" Mimzy cheered, her laughter bubbling with infectious energy. The blonde pressed a crystal-clear glass against your lips, tilting it up and urging you to indulge further. The cool liquid burned as it slid down your throat, leaving a tingling sensation in its wake. The room turned into a swirling blend of jazz melodies, clinking glasses, and loud, loud chatter.
After a few seconds, unable to endure the relentless flow of alcohol, you finally pushed her hand away with a sputter and a cough. The taste of the giggle water lingered on your lips as you slumped against Alastor's chest, your burning cheeks squished against the fabric of his coat.
"Had a bit too much, have we?" he smirked. The radio host smoothly wrapped an arm around your shoulder, the fine fabric of his suit brushing against your skin as he held you upright against him. You nestled against Alastor, swaying slightly to the music, the alcohol-induced haze casting a dreamy glow over your vision. "My, it looks as though the night's got its claws in you, cher."
"Not yet it hasn't," you grinned, your words slurring slightly as you shifted against him, a hand outstretched to grab your drink off the counter.
"Ah ah ah," Alastor chuckled as he took your glass from you, setting it aside with a careful motion. "Let's not push our luck, shall we?"
"Aw, don't be such a wet blanket!" Mimzy snorted, her curls bouncing as she plopped onto the seat beside you. "She's just having a good time! Ain't that right, doll?"
"Mhm!" you nodded your head eagerly before stopping, the ceaseless nodding causing a dull ache in your head.
"There's a good time, and then there's getting plastered. I'd hate to see the star of the show here end up on the floor. Ha ha!" Alastor boomed out with a laugh, catching you off guard. You would have stumbled off the seat if it weren't for his swift reflexes, his gloved hand wrapping around your arm to pull you back up.
"Such a klutz," Alastor tutted with a smirk as he steadied you. "See? What ever would happen to my favorite showgirl if I don't keep a watchful eye?" 
"Oh, please!" Mimzy snorted as she slid another cool glass of giggle water in front of you, leaving a glistening trail of water from the condensation. "She's handled worse than this. We're just getting started!”
"Mimzy, my dear, it seems my words didn't quite get into that thick skull of yours," Alastor enunciated with a tight-lipped smile. "Allow me to say it in much more simpler terms; she has had enough."
"Oh, come on—"
"Do you want all your patrons to witness yet another fiasco in this establishment?"Alastor smiled as he bore his gaze into the blonde's doe eyes. "Because it does sure seem like a night can't pass here without a fuckup!"
Mimzy's shoulders raised in surprise. She stayed silent for a while before forcing out a response through gritted teeth. "No."
Alastor leaned in, glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose, voice devoid of his usual eccentricity. "Then dry up. Understood?"
"Understood," Mimzy rolled her eyes, tucking her chin to her chest as she stared at her feet.
"Lovely." Alastor hummed before straightening himself. And just like that, the tension dissipated, replaced by an air of nonchalance.
"Well! This has been a delightful night, but I do believe it's time to escort this lovely lady home, don't you think?" Alastor's tone shifted back to its usual charm, as nothing had happened. He wrapped an arm around your waist, tugging your ditzy self out of the bar stool as he began to guide you out of the speakeasy.
"Best of luck, chums!"
.
"Can you believe it? That lousy, two-timing rat! You introduce him to the girl of his dreams, and what does he do? He high-tails it outta here with her, leaving us all high and dry!" Mimzy ranted, shaking her fist in frustration before pouring herself another drink. "Not a word for a whole week! I had to call in Nitwit Nancy to cover her Friday shifts! And you know that broad sounds like a screeching cat on a hot tin roof."
Beside her, Angel Dust was flabbergasted, his jaw hanging open with the champagne glass dangling loosely from his hands, its contents long spilled onto the counter, creating a shimmering puddle on the bar. Husk grumbled as he wiped the counter clean with a worn-out rag, eyes flickering between Mimzy and Angel.
The spider was staring at Mimzy as if the blonde had just sprouted a third tit, his eyes wide and struggling to process everything he had just been told.
“Why is you gawkin'?!” Mimzy leaned away from Angel, unsettled by the look on his face. “Aww. Is it 'cuz I'm adorable?”
"Fuckin' hell, toots," the spider coughed out a laugh. "I'm having difficulty understanding all that you just spat at me, blondie. What happened to you ‘keeping a secret’?"
Mimzy's body tensed, a sudden realization flashing across her face as she belatedly registered the fact that she had been running her mouth.
Shaking her head, she pulled herself back together with a huff. "Whatever, alright?! I doubt—"
Suddenly, a loud bang at the door echoed through the room, causing the two demons to startle in their seats. Mimzy's head snapped towards the source of the noise so swiftly she nearly gave herself whiplash. In growing horror, she watched as the hinges of the hotel's entrance door began to creak, the walls around them starting to crack and shed plaster.
"Mimzy! We know you're in there! You lousy bitch!"
"Oh, shit," she winced sinking into her seat.
"What the fuck—" Husk cursed, his words drowned out by the sudden explosion that violently rattled the lower windows. Shards of glass rained down onto the floor as dust and debris filled the air, choking their senses. Husk whipped his head around to glare at Mimzy when she vaulted over the bar counter, seeking refuge behind the sturdy wood.
"I fucking knew it. What shit have you brought to us this time?" Husk demanded, his grip tightening on her dress as he lifted her up. Another explosion echoed through the building, the shockwaves pulsing through the floor causing Husk to stumble and drop her. 
With a pained grunt, the blonde crashed to the floor, her bruised front absorbing the brunt of the impact. As she lifted her head, she met Husk's glare.
"Ahah... Well," Mimzy sheepishly smiled, her eyes darting nervously as she cowered on the floor. The banging on the door grew louder and more aggressive, echoing through the hotel lobby like a menacing drumbeat.
Angel Dust stood frozen by one of the living room walls, his hands pressed against it to anchor himself. Suddenly, he noticed the television set flickering with an eerie glow, emitting dissonant static noises that seemed to crawl under his fur. The crackling sound took on an unsettling pitch, and an odd pink electricity surged through the screen, casting a sickly hue across the room. "What the fuck...?!"
In that moment, Vaggie and Charlie stormed onto the scene, their eyes widening in disbelief as they absorbed the chaotic sight. The hotel lobby, once orderly and serene, now lay in ruins—furniture overturned, glass shattered, and the wallpaper charred.
"What's happening?!" Vaggie exclaimed, swiftly drawing her spear and slicing a chunk of concrete in half before it could reach her. The broken pieces ricocheted off the walls, adding to the destruction.
"We are under sssiege!" Sir Pentious screamed as he scrambled to get Nifty into his arms, slithering behind the toppled-over couch for cover. The banging on the door intensified, accompanied by muffled threats and angry shouts from outside. "It'sss all that harlot'sss fault!
"Harlot?" Vaggie questioned, her fiery gaze sweeping the room for a familiar mop of blonde hair. Upon spotting Mimzy, her eyes narrowed as her lips curled into a snarl. "Explain."
"I may or may not be in trouble with an overlord! Well, maybe a couple of 'em," Mimzy rushed out, her words tumbling over each other in a nervous babble. "And I may or may not have 'borrowed' one of their top showgirls. And, well, got that girl killed… but she had it coming!"
Vaggie's patience waned with each new sentence Mimzy added, and a low groan escaped her lips.
"Leave this to me," she hissed, red-hot fury flashing in her eyes as she tightened her grip on her spear. "Everyone, get somewhere safe."
"I'm afraid that will not be necessary, my dear."
A sudden crackling static, skin to the ominous hum of a radio, seeped through the room as Alastor emerged from the shadowed corners. The demon's grin twisted unnaturally, stretching up to his glowing crimson eyes, which emitted an eerie, hollow glow. Tendrils of inky shadow began to writhe and sprout from Alastor's back, emitting sickening cracking noises.
In the blink of an eye, he dashed outside, engaging in his unholy work, swiftly and effortlessly ridding the area of its assailants. The air outside carried echoes of screams and the sharp, metallic scent of blood.
Before everyone could fully comprehend the whirlwind of events that had just transpired, the screaming ceased. Shortly after, Alastor returned to his usual demeanor. Nonchalantly stepping back into the damaged lounge, he dusted off his suit, traces of blood marking his path on the floors.
"Alastor! Babyface! Good show!" Mimzy began clapping, seemingly unfazed by the gorey scene as she stepped out of her hiding spot. "Bravo! bravo!"
Upon hearing Mimzy's voice, Alastor's head fully twisted around with a loud, bone-chilling crack accompanying the movement. The radio demon moved toward her, his towering 7-foot form eclipsing her much smaller figure. He bared his sharp teeth in a menacing smile as his antlers began to grow in length, curling and twisting over his head—a display nothing short of terrifying.
"You—"
"Alastor~" Charlie's voice quivered with forced cheerfulness, her hands wringing together anxiously. "Haha! Let's, uh, try to keep our cool here, okay? We really don't need any more messes, do we? Haha!"
The princess's attempt at forced cheerfulness made her look desperate, her manic expression surfacing as her pupils visibly shrank, darting around the room like startled prey.
Alastor closed his eyes, the tension in his form visible as he took a moment to regain composure. Gradually, his antlers reverted to their usual size. With an eerie calm settling over him, he reopened his eyes, though the strain was evident in his smile. "My apologies, chum. I'll be out of your hair in a bit."
He spared Charlie one more glance, his gaze piercing, before redirecting his attention to Mimzy. The intensity in his stare bore into her as he spoke, his voice low and measured. "Since you are so eager to catch up, why don't we have a talk? In private."
With that, the radio demon snapped his fingers, transporting both of them out of the lounge.
"Dumb bitch," Husk grumbled under his breath, covering his eyes with his paws and slamming his head onto the bar counter. "We're all fucked once he finds out."
"Find out what?" Walking up to him, Angel Dust shot Husk a confused look. The spider delicately brushed away the dust that clung to his grey fur, picking out the bigger pieces of cement and plaster. "I thought they were friends?"
Husk raised his head off the counter, mismatched eyes meeting Angel's own. "Not anymore."
.
Mimzy slowly opened her eyes, greeted by the surreal sight of a blood-red room surrounding her. It housed a radio station complete with an array of dials and a microphone, the very tools she knew Alastor utilized for his broadcasts.
'His broadcasting station?' she noted, curiously looking about the room.
Suddenly, Alastor's firm grip closed around her shoulder, causing her to whirl around with disorienting speed. His bloodied claws moved to cradle both of her rosy cheeks, their sharp edges looming dangerously close to breaking skin while he squeezed her face as though dealing with a disobedient child.
"I thought I made it very clear that you were to step nowhere near me," Alastor forced her to stare up at him. Despite the discomfort caused by Alastor's claws digging in, Mimzy maintained her confident demeanor and glared straight back up at him. "Did I not, dearest?"
"Oh, I just ran into a spot of trouble, and I thought, who better to lend a helping hand than you?" Mimzy rolled her eyes as she pulled herself away from his grasp, massaging the tender flesh of her cheeks. "You always love helping lil ole me."
"Enough. What is it you want?" Alastor snapped. "Should you persist in wasting more of my precious time, I will relish tearing you apart limb from limb, and the symphony of your sweet screams will be a broadcast for all of Hell to revel in."
Mimzy, unfazed, leaned in with a sly grin, her fingers playfully tracing the lapel of Alastor's coat. "Alright, tall, dark, and creepy. I know you aren't going to do shit."
"After all," she batted her lashes at him, "Hurting me would be hurting her, now wouldn't it?"
The blonde pressed her finger into his chest, poking him repeatedly. "That was in the contract~ You. Heartless. Son. Of. A. Bitch."
A low, guttural chuckle rumbled in the depths of Alastor's throat. "Oh, sweetheart," he drawled, catching her finger mid-poke. "You seem to be overlooking the delicate nature of contracts. It might be wise for you to tread more carefully, relying on such flimsy assurances."
"Flimsy?!" Mimzy scowled. "I got your girl on a leash!"
"Lets make this very clear," Alastor's voice deepened into a growl, eyes flashing red in warning. "This contract doesn't grant you a carte blanche to play games with my patience. If not for her plea to spare you, your fate would have been sealed by now."
As Alastor's grip moved to tighten around her throat, Mimzy's eyes nervously tracked the sharp edge of his claws, her breath catching in her throat.
"W-Whatevah! A contract is a contract," she retorted. Mimzy roughly pulled away from him, scrambling to gain the upper hand again. "Even if there ain't a soul exchange, it's still binding!"
"Yes, indeed! I am well aware of contractual obligations, dear," Alastor grinned, his cane tightening in his grip, claws leaving indents on the dark steel. Bending down to meet her gaze, he continued, "But you seem to have forgotten that time's almost up! The expiration for your contract is nearing. And when that happens, I do intend to reclaim what is rightfully mine – my wife. At that point, you will find yourself plunged into an abyssal world of unrelenting agony."
"Abyss, schmabyss. I've dealt with worse," Mimzy scoffed, her hand waving dismissively. "Now look, I got what I wanted outta you, and I don't have to take this."
With that, the blonde turned with a dramatic flair, her heels clicking against the floor as she stomped towards the door. She adjusted her hair and straightened her dress, a smug smirk dancing on her lips.
"Have fun with your little princess and your little project," she quipped.
Over her shoulder, she shot Alastor one last look, a sly glint in her eyes. "Because I sure am having fun with mine~"
Dry up - Shut up Giggle Water - Liquor Carte Blanche - Complete freedom to act as one wishes
3K notes · View notes
msgexymunson · 28 days
Text
The Ink Shop Part 2
Description: After your encounter with Eddie, things are beginning to get a bit more complicated; especially when you ask him for another little favour. But, will Eddie go for it? 
Warnings: NSFW, minors DNI this ain't for you, angst, tiny bit of fluff, smut, fem oral receiving, male masturbation.
A/N: OK when I said this will be in 3 parts I lied, it's totally going to be at least 4, maybe 5! Thank you for the love you've shown the first part, it's incredible! You're superstars. 
❤️ If you like it please comment and reblog, it really makes my day!❤️
7k words 
Masterlist Part 1
For some reason, the shop seems more welcoming today than ever. It might be the fact that the sun is shining, it might be the radio seemingly playing all your favourite songs, or it might be last night. Either way, you feel loose and free, laughing at jokes, smiling at everyone, and genuinely just happier. 
Eddie saunters in thirty minutes late and you barely notice, apart from flashing him a bashful smile. 
“Well hello there sweetheart, you seem chipper today.”
You roll your eyes at the obvious insinuation, but your smile is warm. “I had a good night's sleep, that's all.” 
“Bet you did,” he grins, “you look real pretty.” 
Looking down, you consider your outfit; you'd decided enough of the corporate clothes, this is a tattoo shop after all. So, you'd paired a roll neck sweater with a short jean skirt and sneakers. A more relaxed outfit to go with a more relaxed attitude. Before you can say anything in reply he strolls over to his station. 
Right, so a few jabs, but he's being nonchalant. So put it out of your mind.
The morning moves quickly, a messy blur of clients and phone calls. After a fast lunch, the shop finally calms down a little. When you're focusing on sorting the mess of the heavy bookings tome in front of you, Eddie approaches, mischief glinting in his eyes. 
“I see London, I see France…” 
You follow his bowed head and cross your legs in sheer embarrassment, realising a sliver of your panties must be on display. 
“Eddie!” 
He simply laughs, throwing his head back far enough that your gaze drifts to his Adam's apple. 
“Sorry, I couldn't resist, I'm a big fan of this skirt,” he says, drinking you in with his eyes, “anyway I wanted to ask-” 
His sentence is stopped however by the loud ringing of the old corded phone. You and Eddie share a look, yours begging and his smug. Before you can grab it, he picks up the phone, putting on a ridiculous British accent. 
“Good Afternoon, London Underground Airways, this is your captain speaking- Oh shit Mac- Yeah she's- I know I'm not supposed to answer- Sorry I- Fine, here.” He brandishes the phone at you. 
“Hello? Oh, of course I'll let them know- I understand- It'd be my pleasure- see you soon.” replacing the receiver, you make a note on the pad at your side. 
“What'd he say?” Eddie asks, hovering over you. 
Not giving him the satisfaction of a look, you continue to make your note, however perfunctory it may be. “Mac's going to be a little late, he told me to tell his next client.” 
“He said my name, I heard it. What'd he say?” 
Placing your pen down with a loud click, you turn to him. 
You tell him as you smile smugly. “He told me to hit you for answering the phone.”
If anything, his grin grows broader. “Oh? Go on then princess, I'd hate for you to break the rules.” He turns his face, no doubt expecting a cuff to the back of the head.
Spinning on your stool, you slap him right across the cheek; not with all your strength, but certainly hard enough to remember. Eddie's face is a picture of shock, pink handprint already flushing his cheek. 
But that just makes his smile wider. 
“Harder.” He asks, eyes flashing arousal at you. 
“Eddie!” you shout, pushing him away, but his laugh echoes through the shop. Before he has a chance to continue, a burly biker type walks right in the door. 
“Good afternoon, can I help you?” 
“Yeah, It's Jimmy, I'm here for Mac?” 
“He's running a little late, but he'll be with you as soon as possible. Can I get you a coffee or something while you wait?” 
You can't help but hear a huff from Eddie, but before you can question it he's drawing in his book, entirely oblivious to the outside world. 
At the end of the day, you're tired, but still in fairly high spirits. It's the first time you've seen everyone in the shop at once. There's an edge to the air though, as if an expectation hangs over everyone. 
So… bar?” Mac asks in a defeated tone, although he's smiling. Everyone reacts; Eddie woops, pumping his fist, even the usually reserved Miranda is clapping quietly. You smile and nod, finally understanding what the atmosphere was about. 
As you all enter the dimly lit bar, chatting and laughing, you hear a low huff. 
“What did I do to deserve this?” John is standing behind the bar. An imposing figure, his arms crossed and face surly, but there's a kindness in his eyes. Mac leans straight over and hands him a card.  
“Easy John, I got this,” he chuckles. The card is accepted gratefully, the gruff demeanour lessening with the promise of payment. 
You accept a bottle of beer and slide into a nearby booth, the rest of the group filtering in. Mac walks over, eyes the space next to you, then grabs a stool to sit at the head of the table. It throws you for a minute; surely he knows he can sit there? Before you can tell him so, Eddie waltzes across the room with a tray of tequila shots and all the fixings with a cheeky look in his eyes. He slides right in next to you, tray and all, and places it on the table with exaggerated care. 
“Ladies, gentlemen.” He says, gesturing to the tiny glasses like an old timey butler. There's a succession of groans from the party, but despite this they all grab a shot. All except you. 
“I don't think I-” you begin, but he's waving a hand in the air. 
“Come on, you drink. It's a shot. Never had tequila before?” 
Fixing him with a sharp look, your cheeks begin to redden of their own accord. Eddie smirks and tosses his head back, hiding his eyes with one hand. 
“Shit princess, what did you do at college?” 
“Study.” You say primly, but take a glass tentatively and place it in front of you. 
“Right, so for the new guys…“ Eddie smiles right at you and licks his hand between his thumb and pointer finger. That hint of silver mesmerises you, the ball of his tongue piercing catching the light. It's almost sensual the way he does it, your eyes automatically following the movement of his tongue. “salt right here…” he sprinkles some on the spot he moistened, “then, lick, shoot, suck.” 
In a few fluid movements he licks the salt from his hand, downs the shot, and sticks a wedge of lime in his mouth. As your brain finally engages after that display, the little show that shouldn't have heated your insides up, you follow along, and take your shot with everyone else. It's easier than you would have thought, the lime easing the burn somewhat. 
Eddie squeezes your thigh under the table and whispers low enough for you to hear. 
“Good girl.” 
Shooting daggers with a simple look, he just smirks, leaving his hand on your bare leg as if challenging you. Dimly, you hear the echoes of a conversation in front of you; it's Julio, arguing about good tequila not needing salt and lime, but you're lost in the deep pools of Eddie's chocolate eyes.
For a moment, your body flashes red hot and you regret your choice of the high necked sweater. Tearing your eyes away you look at something, anything, but Eddie. 
The conversation drifts between all manner of subjects and you start to relax, the beer and tequila swimming in your belly loosening your tongue. It's nice, having a chance to chat and giggle with your coworkers in a setting not interrupted by the constant buzzing of tattoo machines. 
Julio and Chloe end up in a full scale argument about the karaoke machine in the corner. Before you're subjected to the horror of having to sing in public, you get up to grab another beer. Perching on a stool by the bar with your purse in hand, you're waiting patiently to be served. 
Eddie strolls over. You see him in your periphery; that confident walk as if he owns the very ground he walks on. Casually he hops up on the stool next to you, making no effort to hide the way he undresses you with his eyes. 
“Quit staring Eddie,” you say testily as you knock the bar with your bank card. 
“Now I can't look at you?” He asks with an amused grin. 
“I said quit staring, not quit looking,” you huff out. 
“What's the difference?” He asks, shrugging his shoulders and scrunching his nose at you.
You groan, turning on your stool to face him. “You are impossible,” 
He sticks his long tongue out childishly, flashing his piercing at you. 
Thankfully, John's voice cuts through the squabble. “What can I get you?”
“May I have a beer, please?” 
“You certainly may.” John cocks his thumb in your direction, addressing Eddie, “I like this one, she's polite. Don't scare her off.” 
Eddie dramatically holds his chest. “You wound me, sir!” 
Two beers are placed on the bar and John waves your card away. “Don't worry about it, Mac's treating you guys tonight.” 
As you swig your beer, you contemplate for a moment, trying to work out something.
“You're staring, sweetheart.” Eddie grins, as he gulps his drink. 
“I wasn't staring, I was thinking! I know that's a foreign concept to you.” It's catty, you know that, but he just seems to bring it out in you. No one else has annoyed you so much in your life just by… being. 
“That was rude. I thought we were playing nice?” he pouts playfully. 
“Sorry. I- Can I ask you something?” 
“Sure, shoot.” 
Turning to him, you speak what's on your mind. “Why do people get their tongues pierced? No one really sees it. I get like, nose and eyebrow piercings and stuff, but the tongue one I don't understand.” 
Eddie's grin is wide as he bites his bottom lip and stares at you. Well, you couldn't call it a grin. It's a flash of teeth, almost wolfish in its delivery. 
“Oh princess, you are too cute.” 
Staring at him with your brow furrowed, you try to work out what he means, but the longer you take, the more amused he looks. 
“What? What is it?” 
Sighing, he leans closer, the scent of aftershave, cigarettes and man clouding around you. “It's got a purpose, sweetheart.” 
“What, like, kissing?” 
Shaking his head, he looks you up and down. “Kinda. Kissing somewhere… specific.” 
Realisation breaks across your face, followed by a fierce blush that you can feel to the roots of your hair. Laughing, Eddie pulls away a little and takes a mouthful of beer. 
Voice an airy whisper, you lean over to him as you speak. “And girls like that?” 
His laugh is so loud it reverberates around the bar. 
“Yeah, a lot, in my experience.” 
“Oh.”
Well, the thought is there now, and you're pretty sure it won't ever go away, not without some sort of mind bleach. Eddie's head between your legs, his long tongue exploring your sex. The image is burned into the back of your brain, playing on a loop.
“You're looking a little hot there,” he says, as if he can read your thoughts. It's fair to say it wouldn't take a psychic to know what's rattling around your head right now. 
“I'm fine, this sweater is too warm,” you shake out, pressing your thighs together. 
“Liar.” 
Mouth opening and closing like a fish, you finally snap it shut with a crunch. Curiosity is eating away at you, and it's too easy to say what's on your mind after a couple of drinks. 
“Eddie, could you… tell me, what- what it's like?” 
He chuckles lightly and scoots closer to you. “you know I can't, I've not exactly had the pleasure.” 
“I know that, I mean…” 
For a second he just gapes at you. 
“Wait, princess, are you asking me to tell you or… show you?” 
Flustered, you turn away a little. “Sorry that's- that's too much isn't it. It's just you… did such a good job with the, you know, the other thing, I was just curious.” 
Eddie bites his lip, puffing out a little breath. “You know, flattery works with me. I did a good job, huh?” 
“Well, yeah. I can imagine you'd be really good at… that too. I could, owe you a favour?” It's bold, especially from you, but the way he's looking at you, the slight flush to his cheeks, you'd put money on him agreeing. 
Eddie stares at you incredulously. “Wait, you're saying you want me to stick my tongue in the holiest of holes and then you owe me a favour?” 
“Yeah? Like a little… arrangement.” 
He rubs his face with his hand, his voice muffled as he speaks. “I'd feel like I was taking advantage of you.” 
That confuses you for a moment. Surely you were the one who asked him? Hesitantly you reach out and touch soft fingertips to the back of his hand. 
“Please?” 
“Fuck.” He looks around, and turns to you, gazing into your eyes for a moment. 
“Fine. Right now.” 
“Oh I didn't-” 
“Listen, before I change my mind. Meet me out back. I'll tell the guys you're not feeling well and I'm taking you home.” 
Wordlessly, you grab your purse and head to the back door, heart hammering in your ears. It's a little dank out here, with the sound of a dripping pipe and moss covering the cement. Eddie comes out a moment later looking more serious than you've ever seen him. 
“You sure about this?” He asks, searching your eyes. 
‘Yeah, but…” you look around the small yard, gesturing vaguely. 
“Oh. Oh! You thought- oh Christ no, not here. I'm not a complete asshole. Come with me.”
Letting out a relieved breath, you follow him. He walks over to a gate in the fence and opens it, which leads down a narrow alleyway, a little shortcut between yards. That eventually opens up to another road with a couple of apartment blocks. The one he moves towards looks mostly clean, if a bit lifeless, with a creepy looking van parked out the front.
“This way sweetheart,” he says, leading you through the courtyard and to the stairs. 
For a second you stop in sheer surprise. 
“Wait, you live this close and you still manage to be late for work?” 
He chuckles, looking at you over his shoulder. “I have a condition, you know. Chronic tardiness; I'm afraid there's no cure.” 
You bat him on the arm playfully and he grasps your wrist, stopping on the stairs briefly, giving you a look that is wickedness personified. 
“If you're gonna hit me, do it properly.” 
“Eddie!” 
He laughs loud and grabs your hand, holding it in his until he reaches his door. That alone is enough to shut you up. It's warm and rough, and the feeling of his skin on yours, no matter how tiny, sends bolts of sensation through you. 
“Right, here is my castle,” he says as he opens the door and lets you inside. 
Chaos. That's the first word that crosses your mind. It doesn't look dirty, there's just things everywhere. A bookshelf stuffed with books and weird little trinkets placed any which way dominates one wall, and another on the other side with a huge music collection. There's a poky little kitchen with a couple of pots still in the sink, and a big couch with mismatched cushions takes up the remaining space. A tower of board games is precariously leaning next to it, and on the wall over the TV is an honest to goodness sword.
“It's nice,” you say as you walk in, as if you're not mentally organising it in your head. 
“You hate it.” He scoffs, pulling his boots off and dumping them by the door. 
“No, no, it's very… you.” 
“I stand by my previous statement.” He grins at you, clearly indicating he wasn't being entirely serious. 
“This is the bedroom.” He walks over and nudges the door open with his foot. Surprisingly, apart from an open clothes rail, an overflowing laundry hamper, and an enormous bed, there's not much in it. The wallpaper is a pretty purple colour, and looks oddly familiar. 
“Eddie isn't that the same wallpaper-” 
“-As the shop? Yeah. Mac let me have the leftovers. I was broke and this room was fucking pink.” 
You snort out a laugh; the thought of Eddie with a pretty pink bedroom was rather unbelievable.
“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. I can live with purple.” He roots around and grabs a pair of sweats. “Make yourself comfortable, I'm gonna change real quick.” 
Then he walks out into another doorway, you assume the bathroom. The urge to snoop is real, but you resist. It looks like he spends less time here anyway. 
The question is, how comfortable are you supposed to make yourself? Nerves start settling in, the thought of what you've asked him to do is finally sinking its way into your mind and down your jangling spine. What if he doesn't like the underwear you're wearing? God, you've been at work all day, what if you smell bad? Or taste bad? What if- 
“You can sit down, princess.” 
Eddie saunters back in, shirtless, a pair of grey sweatpants hanging so low on his hips you see his cut groin. A little squeak hiccups out of your throat at the sight. You stay standing, ready to make your excuses and leave, but the signal hasn't reached your legs just yet. 
“What's wrong?” his eyes are brimming with concern as he steps toward you. 
“No I- I was- maybe this-” 
“Hey, look at me,” he says, grabbing both of your hands. You stare up at him, his face gentle. 
“Whatever you're worried about, I'm sure it's nothing.” 
“But i haven't showered-” 
“When did you last?” 
“Well… this morning.” 
“You're fine. Trust me.” 
He backs you up onto the bed, your knees folding as you flop down. The air around you feels full, humid with anticipation. He's so close, your bodies almost pressed together. 
“I wanna kiss you.” He says softly, stroking a lock of your hair out of your face. Heart leaping into your throat, you try to suppress the urge to lean forward. The last thing you need is to fall for this man. Chloe's words echo in your head; he's not boyfriend material.
He'll break your heart. 
“That's not part of our deal, Eddie.” 
A frown flickers across his face. It's just for a second, a flash of vulnerability, before his usual cocky smile returns. 
“That's not where I wanna kiss you.” He winks and tugs at your top, “can I take this off?” 
Nodding wordlessly, you help him and wriggle it up and over your head. 
“God damn.” Eddie props up on an elbow, running a finger between your breasts, before following the edge of your black cotton bra. 
He looks up at your face, grinning wide, and points at your neck; little purple marks adorn it. “That why you wore that sweater today?” 
Flushing crimson, you run fingers across your neck. 
“Yeah, you marked me Eddie. Not exactly discreet.” 
He chuckles, stroking the side of your neck. “Sorry sweetheart, I won't do it again. Well, not anywhere that anyone can see.” 
Heat floods your stomach, the stark realisation that you want him to mark you clings to your insides. If he notices your reaction he doesn't say, instead he leans toward you pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek. 
“You're really pretty. I don't know if I said that before.” 
Awash with a new heat in your cheeks, you smile bashfully. “Thanks, I don't get told that very much.” 
Staring at you, he shakes his head.
“You should. You should be told every fucking day.” 
You open your mouth, but before you can reply he kisses your jaw, running his tongue down your neck, before he presses his mouth to the top of your breast, sucking roughly. A gasp flies out, and your hand makes a decision entirely on its own to grab his hair. 
It seems it was the right thing to do, judging by the deep groan that comes from him. It seems to spur him on, and he yanks the cup of your bra down, taking your nipple into his mouth. His tongue teases it, rubbing his piercing over the pebbled nub.
“Oh Holy fuck!” Back arching with the foreign sensation, you revel in it, wriggling underneath him. He smirks against your skin, and takes your nipple between his teeth. Moaning loudly, you pull his hair. 
“Fuck, sweetheart,” He looks up at you, pupils blown to black, “can’t hold back if you do that.” 
It's not a dare, but it tastes like one, and before you can think you're tugging at it again. Eddie's eyes roll back, and a hard look crosses underneath his eyes. 
His actions turn a little feral, pulling you up so he can unhook your bra, practically ripping it off you before his mouth is all over your chest, firm fingers digging into the flesh of your hip. 
“Fuck, Eddie” you stutter it out, voice laced with need. 
“Yeah?” He whispers out breathlessly between urgent kisses, making his way down your stomach. Suddenly he takes the flesh of your hip in his mouth and bites down little before sucking a bruise as you writhe under him. 
He reaches your skirt, hooking fingers into the waistband as he looks up at you, his tone urgent. “Can I?” 
As you nod frantically, he reacts immediately, yanking it down along with your underwear. 
“Fuck, look at you.” 
The urge to close your legs is real, embarrassed at the way he's ogling you right between your thighs. They quiver with tension, but Eddie forces them open with his large palms. 
“Don't hide from me. You still want this?” 
You nod, and his head snaps up to look at you. His voice is hard, swirling around your insides with an intensity you're not used to from him. 
“Say it. You need to say it.” 
‘Yes, please Eddie.” 
That satisfies him. He leans forward, breath ghosting over your clit. You're waiting for his mouth, his tongue, but that's not what happens. He inhales you, nose so close it's almost touching your sex. 
“Jesus Christ, you smell so fucking good.” 
“Eddie!” you cry it out, cringing at his words as you bury your face in your hands. 
“Relax princess, it's a compliment.” 
Before you can retort that it's not a compliment, it's weird, and he's a freak for saying it, it no longer matters. He's licking a fat stripe up the length of your pussy, long tongue pushing against you hard in an animal-like gesture. 
The noise that expels from your chest is inhuman, a choked, guttural breath that belongs in a cave somewhere, not a bedroom. 
He doesn't relent, his mouth exploring every inch of you with a ferality that has you tingling all the way to your toes. His fierce movements, accentuated by the bump of his piercing, have you nearly leaving the mattress. You're not sure if you're trying to get more, or move away. Not that it matters. His hands are holding you so firmly that all you can do is wriggle helplessly like a fish on a line. 
Fingers trace the outside of your entrance before they slide in, beckoning your release. Whimpering, you grasp the bedsheets in a need to keep contact with something real. 
“Talk to me,” he says between mind numbing messy kisses to your clit, “good, yeah?” 
“Eddie, f-fuck, its incredible, please, oh God, k-keep going!” 
You can practically feel the smirk on his face as he dives back in, suckling at your clit with an unmatched fervour, his tongue piercing flicking expertly as he does so. Suddenly, you're not creeping toward your release, you're being hurtled toward it, thrown into the depths of absolute pleasure. 
Hands finding their way into Eddie's hair again, you hold on tight, buckling up for the ride. It's almost violent the way he pulls your climax from you, and you scream loudly, almost folding in half before you fall back onto the bed. 
Eddie sits up, hands placed on your thighs, as he grins proudly, face shining with your slick. 
“You OK princess?” 
OK doesn't seem to cover it. You're panting wildly, each breath shallow and ragged, brain melted into soup. 
“Think you can go again?” 
That gets your attention. You sit up, gaping at him. “Again?” 
Chuckling, he runs a finger up your slit and circles your clit in a teasing manner. The slight touch has your thighs trembling. 
“I think you've got at least one more in you.” 
Without a further word he presses his tongue against you. On instinct you grip his hair once more, bucking your hips up. 
“Fuck, that's it sweetheart, ride my face.” 
This time he slips his tongue inside as his nose nudges at your clit, the thick muscle curling and writhing. Holding on tight, your hips know what to do, your body reacting and rolling to meet him. 
You're yanking his hair hard as you grind against his face, pulling deep grunts and moans from him which vibrate inside of you. It feels primal, sheer need clouding your mind, a fog that rolls into every limb and leaves no part untouched. 
“Eddie, fuck!” You moan loudly as your walls clench around his tongue, another climax bubbling its way to the surface. He doubles down with his efforts almost as if he needs this as much as you do. 
With one final thrust of his tongue you whine out your orgasm, back finally touching the bed once more. There are no thoughts, only your heavy breath and beating heart keeping you in the moment. 
After a few seconds that seem to stretch on for a year, he hovers over your face. He's wiped off your release, but nothing could wipe that smug grin. 
“So? Good?” 
It's not like he doesn't know. You pat blindly at his arm, words stuck in a puddle on your tongue. In an unexpected tender gesture, he swipes his thumb over your chin, his gaze pensive. You stare back, fingers reaching out to gently touch his cheek. 
“Are you going to kiss me?” You whisper, the words pooling from you unbidden. 
For a split second you think he's going to lean in and close the gap, but he flashes his teeth at you and flicks the tip of your nose. 
“That's not part of the deal.” 
Disappointment leaks into your stomach. Which is entirely unfair. He's using your words after all. Fighting the feeling, you force a smile. 
“I think I'll need a wheelchair to get home.” You chuckle, indicating to your still twitching legs. 
“Stay here. I'll take the couch.” 
“Oh, no, Eddie, I couldn't kick you out of your own bed thats-” 
“Hey, it's fine, honestly. I wouldn't offer if I didn't mean it.” He shrugs and rolls off the bed and onto his feet in one quick movement like a cat. “Here. If you want something to sleep in.” He hands you a faded t-shirt. Hesitating for a moment, your hand hovers over it, but he stuffs it into your grip. 
“Honestly, it's fine. I can drop you home before work so you can get changed and stuff. No big deal.” 
“What about your chronic tardiness?” You joke, smiling softly at him. 
“You're here, I'm sure you'll whip me into shape.” 
“You'd probably like that,” you tease. 
“More than you know.” He winks again, and walks to the doorway. “Night, princess.” 
“Night Eddie.” 
When he's gone you shrug the shirt on. It's clean, but there's an undercurrent of pure Eddie still there that's more comforting than you'll care to admit. Then, you lay there, staring at the ceiling. 
Well. You certainly weren't expecting to end up in Eddie's room, in his bed, but here you are. You're not sure what this all means just yet and processing it is just hurting your brain. A part of you is saying that you should get out now whilst you can. Another, louder part is telling you this is where you should be. The only problem: is this message coming from your heart, or much lower down? 
Chloe drifts into your mind whilst you lay there. Did they hook up in this bed? Are you in the same place she was? And how did that end? Clearly it was on good terms, considering how friendly they are, but how many girls have been where you are right now? A few? A dozen? A hundred?
After a while your thoughts just start to ache, leaving a migraine behind your eyes. Shifting on the bed, you try to get comfortable, but it's no use. You wonder if Eddie is still awake. After all, he's the only one that can answer your questions. 
Sitting up a little, you listen intently for any signs of life from the next room, but no matter how hard you strain your ears, you can't hear anything. 
As you quietly get up and creep to the door, you press your ear to it. Maybe that was a word you heard, a loud breath, or the signs of an overactive imagination. Turning the doorknob like a safecracker, you inch the door open ever so slightly to peek beyond. 
There he is, laying on the couch, eyes tight shut and face contorted in concentration. Odd. You slowly guide the door open a little more and your eyes nearly bug out of your head. 
Eddie's laying there, hand down his sweats, tugging at himself like there's no tomorrow.
You almost cry out in shock but manage to swallow the noise just in time. For what feels like a full minute you stand and stare, mouth gaping open. It's like you're hypnotised, unable to tear away from his urgent movements. 
A particularly good stroke has him bucking into his hand, and he lets out this strained whimper that shoots directly between your legs. 
Right, stop. This is wrong. How would you feel if he caught you? …OK, bad example. 
Reluctantly, you close the door again as quietly as you can before climbing back into his bed to stare at the ceiling once more. 
It looks like it's going to be a long night. 
********************
“You look really great,” Chloe says as she strolls into the shop, handing you a coffee, “like, happier, more relaxed.” 
It's a few days after your impromptu sleepover at Eddie's place, and she's absolutely right. You do look more relaxed, even you've noticed the change. There's more confidence in you, and a smile that was once a little forced is warm and genuine. 
“Thanks, I think I'm getting more comfortable here.” It's not a lie, exactly, but it's certainly not the whole truth. 
“Good, glad to hear it!” She beams at you and heads to her table. 
The bell over the door chimes once again startling you. Miranda and Mac are already here and it couldn't possibly be Eddie this early. 
“Um… Hi.” A gangly youth walks in, all arms and legs and bright blonde hair. He shuffles over to the counter awkwardly. 
“Morning, can I help you?” 
“Y-yeah, you do walk-ins today, right?” He asks, brandishing a crumpled flyer at you. 
Face lighting up, you fix your best smile. 
“Why yes we do, it's walk-in Wednesday. It's a little early though. Can I see some ID? 
He hands it over. The guy's freshly 21 and knows it, puffing out his little pigeon chest with pride. 
“Excellent. It's about 10 minutes until we open, but Miranda will be with you. Miranda, you got a book for this guy?” 
Confusion paints Mirandas's face, but then she smiles. 
“A walk in? Wow.” She strolls over and hands him her portfolio of designs, introducing herself. 
When Eddie finally turns up, there's another guy waiting. 
“You're not my 10:30.” 
The poor boy looks at him nervously like he did something wrong. 
“Eddie, he's a walk-in.” Mac says, calling over his shoulder. 
Eddie smirks at you and leans over the counter. 
“Well well, bet you're happy. Atta girl.” 
Blushing profusely, you move to tap him on the arm in warning, but he grabs your hand and kisses it. Heat flies straight to your belly at the gesture.
“Let me know when my 10:30 is here, alright sweetheart?” 
He's still holding your hand, brushing his fingers over your knuckles. Weakly you nod, gazing at him as your toes curl in your shoes. 
Shooting you a wink, he ambles over to his station as you watch him, eyes drawn to the way he moves. 
There's three more clients asking about Wednesdays; granted, one didn't have an ID, but the other two were seen and inked, and one even booked a follow up with Miranda. 
Buzzing with job satisfaction, you're grinning when you nip to the restroom, walking through the narrow corridor. As you exit, you're immediately accosted by Eddie. He stands close, a hand loosely holding your wrist to keep you there as he bends to whisper in your ear. 
“Now, you're not supposed to touch fine art, but someone's gotta pin you against the wall and nail you right.” 
“Eddie!” You whisper shout at him, only serving to make him chuckle low in his throat. 
“Sorry, couldn't resist. I have an idea, for that favour you owe me?” 
Body tensing of its own accord, you look up at him, your cheeks flushed and mouth slightly parted. Before you can ask what it is, a voice cuts through the tension. 
“Hey, keep it at home guys.” 
Mac's standing at the other end of the corridor with his arms crossed, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Pursing your lips, you wriggle from Eddie's grip. 
“It's not what it looks like Mac, I promise.” You say, shouldering past Eddie. 
“Come on sweetheart, don't get all shy on me now!” He shouts, walking after you.
You ignore him, giving Mac an apologetic look, and sit back down at the counter. God, that was embarrassing. Seems like professional and discreet are out the window. 
“So, as I was saying-” 
“Eddie, stop, not now.” you say, cheeks bright red. 
“I was only-” 
“Eddie please! I don't want to get into trouble!” 
Eddie scoffs and rolls his eyes, but backs off finally. 
You make a very clear point of being busy until the rest of the day, completing any ad hoc tasks you can think of. Tidying the stock cupboards, refreshing the consent sheets, and even organising the sparse counter. Anything to avoid further comment from Mac. 
When six rolls around you turn to talk to Eddie, but he's already leaving without a glance at you. 
Sighing, you make your way outside and home, trying to ignore the little sting in your chest. 
********************
It's Saturday before you see him again. Your day off was mostly spent worrying about how you upset him and thinking about everything you could have done differently. 
By the morning you're an emotional wreck, anxiety having done her job and left you a bubbling mass of maybes. When Eddie storms in the shop with a proverbial rain cloud over his head your heart pangs in your chest. 
He's such a big character, and you didn't realise until now the influence this has on this place. Usually he's energetic and upbeat; however, with this melancholy energy coming from him, everyone seems to stoop a little more, eyes a touch downcast, movements more shuffled and broken. It's like a black hole has descended on the shop, pulling joy from your soul and sucking everything into its gravity.
The tattoo shop is quiet for a Saturday. Not from lack of customers; it's just a more hushed and sullen atmosphere. By the afternoon you decide enough is enough and you grab Eddie's arm between clients.
“Eddie, can I talk to you?” 
He gets up, stretching his back in a feline movement, and walks with you slowly to the stockroom. 
“Listen, I'm really sorry about what happened on Wednesday, I didn't want to upset you and I can't stand seeing you like this and-” 
“Woah, sweetheart, slow down. You been worrying? About me?” He tilts his head, giving you a small lopsided smile. 
“Yeah? I thought you were mad at me.” You mumble out. 
“Oh, princess, come here.” He wraps you in his arms, holding your head close to his chest. A relieved breath puffs from your chest as you melt into the hug. 
“That's not what I'm upset about, I promise.” 
You pull from the embrace to look at him, a hopeful smile tugging at your lips. 
“Really?” 
Stroking your cheek softly, he presses his lips together. “You're adorable,” he moves his hand away and starts waving his arm about as he tells you what's wrong. 
“You know I'm in a band? Well we've got this regular gig at Hatters, which is great and all, but I found out they're looking for more bands at The Pit. That big rock club on Main? I've been trying to get hold of the damn owner but he's ignoring all my calls and I'm pissed off.” 
Grinning, you grab his arm. “Eddie, I can totally help you with that.” 
His gaze is soft and warm as he asks “Really? You'd do that for me?” 
“Of course I would. You got their number?” 
He digs around in his pocket and passes you a wedge of shiny paper. Unfolding it, you look at the details, smiling even wider when you see they're attempting a ladies night. There's a telephone number at the bottom, the contact listed as William. 
“I gotta idea. Just roll with it, OK?” 
He looks confused but nods at you. Skipping to the counter, you pick up the phone and dial the number. When it's answered by a young woman, you speak with a nasal voice, sounding almost bored. 
“Is Bill there?- Tell him it's Barb- oh trust me he's gonna wanna take this call honey.” 
Eddie's staring at you with an amused expression; you look back at him, flashing a smile while you wait. 
“Bill! How long has it been! Oh, don't say you don't remember me… oh, you do!- I'm good, I'm good- I'm managing this band, yeah, you've gotta book them- Corroded Coffin- yeah, yeah- They are hot right now, selling out their shows- look I know you're struggling getting the ladies in, but that's about to change. Their lead singer is-  well lemme tell you, if I were a younger woman- haha yes, sounds great! Next Saturday?- Nine- Great stuff- I'll speak to you soon.” 
Placing the phone down with a little click, you cross your legs and look at Eddie smugly. 
His jaw may as well be on the floor, eyebrows so high that he resembles a cartoon character. 
“Barb? Selling out their shows? If I were a younger woman? Where the fuck did that come from?” 
You giggle, “I thought he'd listen if he thought I was a business connection. I took a shot, a little bullshit can take you far.” 
He swoops over to you and grabs you in his arms, lifting you bodily from your seat and swinging you around as you squeal helplessly. 
“Saturday? Not even midweek? Princess I owe you big time.” 
“Eddie I already owe-” 
He's not listening, running over to Mac and bouncing on the spot like a child. “Mac, Mac, did you hear? I'm playing at The Pit!!” 
You watch as he explains what just happened; he's so animated, gesticulating wildly as loose locks of hair fly from his bun. Mac beams at him and hugs him in a fatherly motion before Eddie springs back over to you. 
“Who the fuck is Barb?”
“I dunno, she sounded worldly.” 
He grins, shaking his head, “I can't believe you lied for me. You seem… different lately. More confident. It suits you.” 
Blushing, you thank him. For a second you stare at each other, both lost in the other. 
Eddie shakes his head, and looks at the time. 
“Fuck, right, I got 20 minutes, I'll be back!” He grabs his coat and runs out of the shop shouting “personal errand!” 
Chuckling, you sit back down at the counter. Mac approaches, smiling softly. 
“You did good Miss, he's really happy.” 
“Thanks, I couldn't bear the sulking.” 
He laughs and touches your shoulder, “he cares about you. In case you didn't notice.” 
He walks away nonchalantly as if he didn't just drop a bomb at your feet. Eddie cares about you? You're still pondering it when he returns a half hour later looking sweaty and dishevelled. 
“Princess, I got you a present,” he whispers, brandishing a nondescript black bag at you. You peek inside and shut it immediately. 
“Eddie what the fuck!” You whisper, face flooding with blood at the sight as you hide it under the counter. There's a sex toy in the bag, well at least one, but you were so shocked at the sight you didn't get a good look. 
He chuckles and leans in close. “Thought you'd like it.” 
“Eddie I don't know how to- to use this stuff,” you mumble quietly, looking around to make sure no one's listening. 
He smirks at you in response.
“You free tonight? I can show you.” 
Taglist
@liminalpebble @eddies-puppet @rip-quizilla @micheledawn1975 @vanilla-demon @millercontracting @roanniom @josephquinnsfreckles @leelei1980 @mrsjellymunson @eddiesprincess86 @ali-r3n @choke-me-eddie @littlebebebunny @big-ope-vibes @tlclick73 @reidsgubbler @siriuslysmoking @keanureevessmile @fhsbsvy @yourdailymemedelivery @aurora-austen @rach5ive @honey-teaaaaaaaa @nina211544 @bbabycass @cactusangie @skrzydlak @took-me-hours-to-steal-those @hereforshmut @nabiiturner @darlingbravebelle @freak-of-hawkins @randomworker @serenadingtigers @1paire2vans @sapphire4082 @xmasterofmunsonx @steamystrangerfics @vol2eddie @storiesbyrhi
2K notes · View notes
e-m-ma-lmfao · 8 months
Note
can I request some cute fluff with Astarion - I think something cute would be tav’s never worn a dress and they put one on and Astarion is just mindblow by how good they look? 🥺
maybe he can do some chivalrous acts as well~
She Looks Breathtaking
Tumblr media
pairing : astarion x (fem) reader
summary : astarion has never seen you in a dress, you haven’t been in one since you were taken from baldur's gate. you both find it hard to hide your excitement.
warnings : none :)
authors note: I hope you like this anon! (first, i finally played baldur's gate. second, i'm going to try and pump out the requests that I haven't gotten to.)
Tumblr media
“Oh! Look how pretty this is!” 
You turn your head to look towards Karlach’s booming voice, much too loud for the small space you were in. She held up a dress, something you hadn’t thought about wearing in months. You hadn’t had any important events to attend.
Walking over to her side, you take the fabric between your fingers. “It’s beautiful..”
“You should get it. I think you’d look great, and I bet Astarion would like it too.” She nudged at your side, teasing. Your face flushed, and you ran your fingers along the hem of the dress, avoiding Karlachs gaze. She likes to poke fun at the obvious crush you had developed on Astarion, and everytime she did you regretted telling her more and more. 
Eventually, you find a small paper attached to the fabric showing the price of the dress, eyes widening at the disgustingly low price. 
“When would I even get a chance to wear it? It would go to waste, just weigh my bag down.” Karlach huffs, taking the price tag and reading it for herself.
“Are you kidding me? Even if you don’t wear it, you’d be a fool to ignore this price. Maybe you will attend some noble party when we get to Baldur's Gate!” She was way too excited but her energy almost made you agree with her, the dress was so cheap even if it went unworn for a long time. And you hadn’t worn one in..you couldn’t even remember.
You thought about it for a moment before moving for your coin pouch, pouring the amount into your hand and handing the coins to the trader. They slip out of your hand much faster than you'd care to admit, hiding your excitement from Karlach proving to be a challenge. “Don’t say a word to anyone, Karlach, I mean it.”
“Fine. But I better get to see you in it, at least try it on for me when we get back to camp!” You shake your head, amused by Karlachs childish antics, but you yourself can’t help but feel a little bit excited by the idea of dressing up. 
When you returned to camp that night you had forgotten about the dress in your bag, slipping your mind amidst the constant thought of being attacked or having to talk your way out of a hostile situation. 
So when Karlach came bouncing over to your side, your tent tucked away in a corner secluded from most of your party to keep your privacy, you could only give her a confused look. She seemed so excited and you had no idea why, and she was beginning to return the confusion.
“You gonna put on the dress or just make me stand here?” Oh! You let your bag fall to the ground, crouching down to rummage through its contents, searching for the dress. 
When you found it you laid it over your bag, standing back up to remove the leather from your body. You could hear Karlachs giggles as you shimmied out of your much too tight leather pants, only to have to pull the dress over your body right after.
Your hair was up, but you untied it and allowed your hair to fall over your shoulders. When you turned back to her, she stared at you with awe. “Woah..”
“What?” 
“You look..nice.” You giggled, which made her laugh along with you, both of you unaware of the approaching footsteps. His eyes trace along your figure, and he allows himself a moment of greediness to take in the full effect you have. You seem so happy, a smile appearing on his cheeks as he watches you smile gleefully and so..so..carefree. You're finally allowing yourself to have fun, and not worrying about protecting everyone else around you. And Gods.. you’re breathtaking. 
He would never admit to a living soul, or a non-living one for that matter, but he had been infatuated with you since the moment you asked him to join your party. You made him weak, and with his newfound freedom he wasn’t sure what the correct way to deal with it was. Obviously he could use his charm to lure you into his bedroll, but he wanted more, he wanted to be the reason you felt giddy enough to show your teeth with a smile. He wanted to be the reason you laughed, and fooled around, the reason you felt safe enough to have fun. 
He takes a deep breath in, to regain his confidence and charm, and he proceeds towards the two of you.  
Until his voice filled your ears and caused your eyes to shoot in his direction, “Well well..don’t you look nice.” 
“Astarion!” He approached the two of you slowly, staring at you and paying no mind to Karlach’s presence. 
“I’m gonna leave you two alone..” Karlach let out an awkward chuckle, making eye contact with you with wiggly eyebrows before sneaking away.
You look back towards Astarion, who is unable to make eye contact with you as his eyes roam along your body, preoccupied. You're certain he doesn't even realise Karlach has left from beside the two of you.
“Where did you get this pretty thing?” He looks back up to meet your eyes, smirk big enough to show his fangs which sends a nervous shiver through your body. A tingle in your neck reminds you of the favour you allowed him. Your arms cross against your chest, suddenly more nervous in his presence than ever before. 
“Just something I picked up from a merchant..” 
“In all the time I’ve traveled by your side , I’ve never seen you look so.. elegant.” 
“Wow thanks..” You roll your eyes with a snort, crossing your arms tighter across your chest.
“Now c’mon darling..you know I mean you no disrespect. Only pointing out the obvious. May I?” At first you're unsure what he’s even asking permission for, but when you see his hands reaching out to touch you, you give him a nod. 
He doesn’t hesitate, hands finding your hips. “See…usually you’re wearing that menacing leather, always so serious.” Your face scrunches up at his words, you’ve never thought your armour to be very menacing nor did you believe you were ‘always serious’. Only when the situation called for it. 
The heat of his skin can be felt even through the fabric. His thin fingers squeeze into the plush of your hips, then run along your waist, feeling the fabric between his fingers. “But right now, in this dress, with your hair undone,” He brings his hand up to run his fingers through your hairs, “You look so free. You’re beautiful darling..so beautiful.” 
You feel your face relax, and it only softens more when Astarions eyes meet yours once more and his pupils are blown . The softest smile blossoms on his face, which turns out to be contagious cause not soon after a cheek burning smile is on your face. Face hot as you look into his eyes, his hands still on your waist, thumbs massaging your skin through your dress. 
“I should take it off, I don’t want to get it dirty.” 
“Could you humor me?”
“Humor you? How so, Astarion?” 
“Keep it on, just for an hour. It’s been a long time since I spent an evening with a woman as beautiful as you..” 
4K notes · View notes
sooniebby · 26 days
Text
First Drabble after a month or so… Anyway, reader is a bisexual man, deal with it. Kinks are: voyeurism, spanking, dubcon, cucking, manhandling, praise, lite feminization. Brief mention of m/f sex but reader is a bottom and is mentioned to have a cock. BDSM relationship. Tw. Girlfriend is a bit abusive so skip this if bad doms bother you 🫶🏼 no set character, but I gave him a name! A little long tbh, not even a Drabble anymore
The things you do to make your girlfriend.
“Ohhh! Gimme more, Mark.”
You roll your eyes, checking your phone as your girlfriend gets her pussy fucked by your “friend” Mark. They were too busy having the time of their life to notice you stopped paying attention to them.
Your girlfriend, Lizzy, just loved this whole cuck fantasy shit. Whatever made her happy. You tried many other times to tell you that you didn’t necessarily like it but she always somehow made you the bad guy.
It was your first relationship dealing with BDSM, she was more than likely right since she had loads of relationships before you.
Right? She wouldn’t use your naivety to her advantage… right?
Hah.
Anyway, she loved making you watch other guys fuck her. Especially if their dick was bigger than yours. Though you didn’t like her saying your four inches was small.
Some guys had two inches, you were perfectly fine.
She began moaning something about how big he was, you didn’t really care at this point. You didn’t even know if you liked this whole BDSM thing. Sure, being the submissive was cool at first but now it just felt… eh?
You certainly hated her way of being a sadist. You hated being a masochist. It wasn’t fun.
But, whatever makes her happy. She’s freaking Lizzy Powers, the hot girl from your university. Every guys falls for her.
There was particularly high pitched yelp that caused you to look up in concern but it seemed Mark had just manhandled her into another position. You huffed and just went back to watching TikTok thirst traps.
The few times you looked at them to pretend you actually cared, Mark seemed set at staring right at you. His thrusts would always get faster each time. Weirdo.
Mark was popular, just like Lizzy. Loved by many girls (and guys). He was supposedly good natured and kinda but you kinda found him creepy, especially right now.
Was there something on your face???
“Ooh, (Name)~!” Lizzy whined, “he’s so much better than you… Just look at how well he fucks my pussy.”
She looked over at you—you quickly forced a frown. She loved seeing you “upset” about the other guy fucking her. Something about getting you to try harder when you fucked her the next day.
It worked the first time, but after that, you stopped caring. You kinda stopped caring to fuck her as well. It wasn’t even that she was fucking all these other guys. Something just kept bothering you.
Maybe the fact she didn’t go on regular dates with you and there didn’t seem to be an end to the dominate actions she had.
A shrill voice filled the room, Lizzy was cumming. You used to always love seeing this part—just seeing your gorgeous girl coming undone.
Eh, you’ve seen it before. These days, you found yourself watching the guy fucking her instead of her. Which was bad, that was cheating, or at least that’s what Lizzy had told you.
So you made sure to not look at Mark as much. Mark pulled out and rolled off his condom, tossing it into the trash bin next to the bed. The loud sound of music was still ringing downstairs from the party.
You would’ve thought this dumb party would’ve been done by now. “Was that it?” You asked, standing up. “I have a test tomorrow so I need to get back to my dorm.”
There was a moment of silence as Lizzy and Mark stared at you. Mark simply nodded and moved to put his jacket and shoes back on. Lizzy however, looked furious. She stood up abruptly, putting on her dress and stormed over to you.
Oh no.
You knew that look. She was about to “discipline”you. Her punishments were so humiliating—you hated it so much. 
You fought back the urge to roll your eyes. Her anger radiated off her face. Though she only stood to your chest, she managed to make your heart drop. There was no fun in this. But isn’t this what these relationships involve?
This was just how it was.
Her harsh words began spilling out, probably promising a punishment once you reached your dorm. Or possibly even when Mark left. But knowing her, she’d get a kick out of him watching.
Maybe you should’ve gotten a different girlfriend. This one doesn’t exactly make you happy. The thought couldn’t go any further though when Mark cleared his throat, ending Lizzy’s tyranny with ease.
“Your submissive isn’t exactly listening to you. I don’t mean to pry,” though the smirk on his lips tells you otherwise. “He looks legitimately scared. No sense of pleasure in him.”
Lizzy scoffed. “And you can do better? He’s just new to this, but it seems to be taking forever for him to listen to me.” She said, harshly poking at your chest with her finger. You try not to show any emotion from the slight pain.
“I can. But that’s if you want your submissive to get a taste of what’s better.”
A pin could be dropped and it would’ve made more noise. You watch in awe as Lizzy practically turned pink in the face. Wow, you’d never seen her this anger. There was silent rage in her eyes before she pulled a quick smile.
“Sure. He’s all yours.”
But Mark looked over at you. He stood up and took off his jacket, walking over to you with a look of determination. “Do you want it?”
“W..wha..?” You whispered, feeling dwarfed against his tall height. Jesus, does he play volleyball or basketball??
“Do you…” his hand slowly reached up, gently grabbing your chin before forcing you to look up at him. Oh. “…want me to touch you? Show you real pleasure.”
“….yes…”
His lips pulled into a slight smirk. “Good boy.”
So here you are, pants less. Mark was kinda enough to let you keep your sweater on. Lizzy was sitting at the desk chair you once were. You felt bad for whoever’s frat brother’s room you guys were in. Poor guy.
“Do you know why you’re being punished?” Mark suddenly said, sitting on the bed as he patted his lap.
You huffed and moved over to where he was. “Attitude probably.” You muttered, looking down at the bed sheets. Ooh, sport cars.
A tug at your sweater caused you to yelp as you were forced to look Mark in the eye. “Look me in the eye when you’re speaking to me.” With little force, he pulled you to drape over his thighs. They were quite muscular. Hm, maybe soccer?
You could feel Lizzy’s harsh glare on your body. It was just reminding you that she was so pissed over you having a slight attitude. Gosh, we doms all like this? You were seriously considering if you wanted to stay in this type of relationship.
Mark’s hand gently gripped your butt, softly massaging it. “I don’t think you deserve a punishment, but I’m going off what your dom wants. This can be really easy, (Name). Just count, okay? I’ll only go to ten.”
“Just ten?” Lizzy cut in.
“Ten is enough. He didn’t do anything terrible.” Mark countered. “Was I even speaking to you?”
You didn’t want to know the look Lizzy gave him. His hand gripped your ass before he released it, gently tapping it.
“(Name), what’s your safe word?”
You blinked, “what’s that?”
There was a tense silence. You tried to look up but Mark quickly pushed your head back down.
“Just whenever you want to stop. In case it’s too much.”
“Oh uhm. Stop should work fine, no?”
“Alright. You can always say red as well. Yellow would be if you just want a breather, okay?”
“Oh… would green be for keep going?”
Mark hummed, gently massaging your butt. “Mhm. Aren’t you smart?”
You blushed slightly. Oh, that was nice. When was the last time Lizzy complimented you?
“Starting now.”
You prepared for the worst. Whenever Lizzy spanked you, it was torture. Just hit after hit with no room to breathe. Didn’t help she would use those whips. It took you awhile to convince her to just use her hand.
Sometimes the damn thing would just start hitting your thighs or back. It was like she was purposefully missing your ass.
Smack!
Oh. What were you supposed to do? You could’ve sworn you were supposed to say something. That felt so weird, but you felt your toes practically curl as a gasp left your lips. He must’ve had experience doing this…
He gently rubbed the slight curve of your hip. “C’mon, count for me.”
Oh right. Counting…
“O..One.”
It went on, each time you momentarily went blank in the head. This wasn’t anything like Lizzy’s spankings. Mark was spanking you hard, definitely, but there still was a slight softness to it.
Hmm, you could probably revisit spanking.
“Ten…” You muttered, sighing in slight relief that it was over. You gently got up from Mark’s lap, ready to pull your pants back up but he pulled your back down.
“What are you doing?” He asked, rubbing your sore cheeks. You heard the sound of a container being opened before a cooling substance was rubbing onto your skin. It was pure relief. A relaxed hum left your throat.
Lizzy coughed, breaking the moment. You almost forgot she was there. “Are you done with my boyfriend?”
“Hm, no. His moans were cute, I want to hear how he sounds cumming on my cock.” He said bluntly, causing you to blush in pure embarrassment. His cock?! He was going to fuck you?!
Lizzy sputtered as she stood up. “What?! That’ll be cheating!”
“It’s just cucking. A man can cuck a woman.”
“But—”
“—It’s only fair (Name) can cuck you too.”
It was wrong. But his words made you grin. Cucking her back? Oh that sounded fun. Finally, she could feel how you felt.
“Okay.” You suddenly said, removing yourself off Mark’s lap. “You can fuck me.” You weren’t scared about anything going into your butt. Lizzy has fucked you with a strap before, those were the few times you had the most fun during sex with her.
Shame she never wanted to do after the two times.
You grabbed the lube that was left on the nightstand from Lizzy and Mark’s previous fuck and drizzled a decent amount onto your fingers. Sitting down on the bed, you began to stretch your ass open.
It was pretty easy, you did masturbate this morning with a dildo. The entire time, Mark just stared at you with hunger, his eyes watching your hole swallow your fingers with ease. He was probably expecting some type of resistance.
“I’m ready.” You muttered, moving to get into a doggy position but Mark grabbed your hand. A shriek left you as he picked you up with ease and plopped you down into his lap.
This position… was embarrassing to say the least. Your legs were wide open, your cock hard against your tummy. Lizzy was literally right across from you, seeing everything. You squirmed, wondering why Mark was so set in humiliating you.
His lips suddenly pressed against your ear, his chin resting on your shoulder. The sound of his zipper and slight shuffling filled your ears as his cock slipped out. Holy shit. He was definitely huge… maybe 7 inches??
“I want…” his hand reached up and grabbed your chin, forcing you to look Lizzy straight in the eye. “Miss Powers here to see you cum on my cock, seeing you become my pretty little slut.”
Your cock twitched. His cock pressed against your ass, gently teasing your hole. Slowly, he lowered you down, letting the stretch become comfortable.
He was definitely huge. You didn’t understand how Lizzy took this thing without crying out in pain? Once he was fully in, you let out a shaky breath, gripping his hand that held your hip.
“Good boy. You’re taking me well.” He whispered, pressing a kiss on your neck. “Now move.”
“What?”
“Ride me.” Mark simply said, gently patting your thighs.
Holy fucking shit. You were supposed to ride this guy while your girlfriend watches? Jesus. You moved slightly, gripping his thighs as a way to hold yourself help as you began bouncing up and down.
The sounds of skin slapping filled the room, your soft moans right behind it. This was better than any strap. You could feel him inside you—his heat. A shudder left you when his cock pressed against your prostate. You quickly tried to keep that position, gasping at the constant pressure.
You practically forgot Lizzy was even there. All you cared about was getting off.
No, all you cared about was making sure Mark was enjoying it.
That was a first.
You glanced down, wanting to see if Mark was enjoying himself. The sight caused your hips to stutter. He was staring right at you, a smirk on his face. His free hand was gripping at your ass, pulling the cheeks apart slightly.
He broke eye contact to look down at your hole, laughing slightly. “It’s so cute. Hey, I’m your first real one huh?”
“Y..Yeah..”
“Good. I’ll be your only too.” He said, delivering a harsh spank on your ass. A scream escaped your lips as you stopped for a moment, trying to process everything that was happening.
First and only? What?!
“Hey, why’d you stop?” His hands suddenly had your waist in its grasp as he pulled you back. You were once again looking at Lizzy, seeing her pure anger. Gosh, you were really betraying your girlfriend.
“Why are you treating him so gently?” Lizzy suddenly commented.
Mark hummed. “It’s his first time. You always gotta treat beginners like glass. Once he’s properly trained… I’ll fuck him like the whore he is.”
“Whore..?” You muttered, but before you could ask why he kept calling you stuff like that, he was suddenly making you bounce up and down on his cock. It was so sudden, so fast and made your previous movement seem like nothing.
If this is him treating you like glass, you wondered just how mean he got…
Your back arched as you cried out, resting your head on his back as the pleasure began to take over. It was so much. But you wanted more. You just knew he could do more.
You wanted it so bad.
You were too lost in the pleasure to even notice that Lizzy left until the sound of a door slamming caught your attention. “Hng…? Why’d she..?”
“Fucking finally.” Mark muttered, pulling you off his cock. You whimpered, feeling your cock leak dejectedly with pre-cum. He plopped you down on the bed and pushed your legs up, putting you in a mating press.
His cock easily slid back inside as he leaned down, grinning. “Now that she’s out of the way, I have you all to myself.” He whispered, his hips moving upwards in harsh staccato type motion. Each slap caused a struggled gasp to leave you in tandem.
“Been hearing all about how you were just her little cuck. Using you because you knew nothing about how these type of relationships work..” he mumbled, a groan leaving his lips when you clenched around his cock.
You couldn’t even care about what he was talking about. You just wanted to cum already. This position was so odd, you didn’t even know your body could fold this far.
“You don’t have to worry about that anymore, baby. I’ll make sure you enjoy yourself as mine.”
“Y..yours..? What..? Ngh, did you..”
“Fuck her to get to you?” He laughed, leaning down to kiss your lips. You blushed, shocked that the kiss was so sweet compared to the sinful thrusting. “Yeah, anything for you.”
Anything for you…? You didn’t get to truly understand just how deranged that sounded when he began to roughly fuck you. He managed to push your legs even further as he draped himself over your body, ravaging you like a cheap slut.
Your screams and his grunts mixed together as you gripped at the sheets beneath you for type of stability. If that stupid loud music from downstairs wasn’t still playing you were sure everyone would be able to tell you were getting your stomach rearranged.
“(Name)…”
You let out a strangled hum.
“Your pussy is tighter than hers.”
Yaaaay… first post back! Feel really proud of this one, though I didn’t mean to make it longer than a usual Drabble, felt like I had to add a lot of stuff before the porn… lmao.
@the-ultimate-librarian @mello-life25 @chill-guy-but-cooler @kiiyoooo @iwishtobeacrow @star-3214 @smellwell @ofclyde @flurrina @tehyunnie @remdayz @love-kha1 @mooncarvers-world @rhetorical-conscience @tomoeroi
1K notes · View notes
chaosandmarigolds · 1 month
Text
Dad!Simon who insisted you go on the vacation, because of course he can handle his baby girl and his six year old (almost six, but Ollie rounds up)
Simon who knew he had it in the bag....
for about two hours
Simon who made bagels for dinner; wassss this close 🤏to making Ollie eat dirt because WHAT DO YOU MEAN you don't like bagels now you were begging for them in the store!
Simon who made it about forty hours before he gave him and called Johnny
Simon who had no idea why Ollie was being so gosh darn annoying
Simon who had previously made a bet with Price that he wouldn't need help so therefore he would rather die than call Price even though Ollie idolizes his 'grandfather'
''s Johnny, missed ya but leave a message at the lil' beep."
"John MacTavish I swear to god if you don' call me back in ten minutes I will personally post thos' pictures of ya in Afgan."
two minutes later-
"ya know that's a real low blow-"
"I need you to take Oliver to th' park- Tessie isn't goin to sleep with him 'roun."
"Call the capn, he's closer to ya."
"I will not do that."
"Ugh, fine- lemme tell my girl then'll be there in twenty."
Simon who told Oliver to behave for his uncle and then happily sent them away- which finally he would be able to put the exhausted newborn to sleep
Simon was finally able to doze off on the sofa, the baby happily snoozing away on his chest and everything seemed perfect with the world
"MISTER RILEY UNCLE JOHNNY IS IS-HES-" The thundering slam of the door being swung open not only woke up Simon but the baby who aptly began to sob to the sudden change of pace, Oliver however did not care "UNCLE JOHNNY SUCKS."
Uncle Johnny told Ollie not to kick the ball into the river
Simon who is flabbergasted because even Johnny looked shook to his core, sure they had been at the park for about five hours but like-???
John MacTavish...brought down .... by Simon's six year old
Simon who, after ten minutes of the baby screaming for their mother and refusing to take their bottle with disgruntled wails of pain and Ollie so tired he can't think straight so he's also a sobbing and angry disaster and Johnny's just standing there by the door waiting for answers and everything is so loud-
"Capn?"
"Oh! Hi, sweetheart," John's wife answered the landline and he could hear her voice call for her husband, "Hi, how are you and lil' ones?"
Simon looked at Ollie who was currently in time out for stealing his sisters binkie for the tenth time, "Not great."
"O-"
"Simon." Price's voice cut in and it took about five seconds to get everything account for, "Ya already called Johnny right?"
"Yessir."
"Did you try Kyle?"
"No sir, he's on his honeymoon."
'"Ah-that's right, that's right."
Silence
"Sir I would like your help."
"Ha! Knew it! Alrighty, missus and I'll be there in...i dunno- you boys hungry? She made that-honey whatcha make?" indistinct conversation, "Ma'am said it didn't matter, she'll bring it anyway. Forty minutes?"
Simon looked at Johnny, who was on 'keep ollie in said time out' picking up the kid whenever he would try and run off. "Can you make it twenty, sir?"
Simon and Johnny who, out of habit, stood at attention as soon at the captain let himself into the house
Simon who looked a bit worse for wear, even with his non existant sleep scheulde in the military he had never looked so fatigued
Simon who had the baby out of his arms by Price's wife within two minutes of them being there
Simon who loves his son, he loves him (internal mantra) but he is making him look bad to his captain so the little twerp better get his act together.
"Riley."
"Yessir."
"How long is your block?"
"Two kilometers around."
"Two laps."
faltering silence through the house, Simon stared at the captain as he helped Ollie tie his sneakers by the door. The silence did mean Tessie had finally fallen asleep but he was- "I'm sorry?"
"Two laps, you, Johnny, and Oliver." Price looked to the kid, who looked more angry at the world than anything else, "Go. Dinner will be ready when you get back."
Simon was about to argue but Ollie beat him to it, "I don't want to run."
"You don't want to run?"
Oliver seemed a bit taken back, "No. So I'm not going to."
"Okay. You can clean the entire house- including your sisters nappy's, for a week, yeah?"
A pause.
"Fine, i'll go on the stupid run."
Simon who might as well be walking with the pace Oliver chose to keep
Johnny who took off sprinting because lord knew that man was starving and Mrs. Price's food was heaven on earth
Simon who sat down on the side of the road when the little guy was out of breath
Simon that mostly ran in silence until Ollie broke it
"Why did mom leave?"
huh?
"What?"
"Mom she-she just...she left us, wh-"
"Whoa-whoa whoa, mum didn't leave-mum didn't leave us wh-whoa, Olls," he had collapsed to his knee when the boy started to speak just to look at him in the eyes and he tried to read the boys expression, "Mum would never leave you, she loves you so much."
"Then where did she go?? Why didn't she say goodbye?"
"She's with her friends, and her flight left 'fore you woke up, Olls. Laddie, she wouldn't leave you."
Simon who had called you, even though there was time difference as everyone was sitting down to eat dinner
"oh...wow the gang's back together," You grumble as you rub your eyes, having been dead asleep, only for the camera angle to change suddenly and it was just a close up angle of your son's face, "Hi baby."
"Mom guess what Uncle Johnny did."
"EY, LET'S NOT TELL YER MOM BOUT THAT."
"Hey mom?" The boy was easily distracted and then looked down at the phone again.
"Yeah baby?"
"Never go on away again, dad said so."
You stay silent for a moment, blinking, because in all three years you and Simon had been together Ollie had never referred to him as 'dad' or anything remotely close. "Your...right, yeah-I'm pretty bored here anyway."
Simon, who was fine with you going on little getaways just not anymore how dare you try and leave him alone
"You sure it's okay if I stay a few more days?"
With a short laugh he looks over the living room, where Johnny and Olls were fast asleep watching some cartoon he didn't know the name of while John and His wife had chosen to stay in the guest room for the night. It would hell if you stayed for a few more days.
"Of course, luv, I got the boys an' Tessie needs to learn who they are anyway."
"I guess. Okay, the ride is here. I love you."
"I love you more."
(annnnway that's it <333 any comments you wanna leave or anything like that makes my day!)
2K notes · View notes
Text
The Captain - Simon Riley x Sniper!Reader, Wife!Reader
Tumblr media Tumblr media
summary: Ghost’s sniper wife (reader) joins Task Force 141 on an op, against his wishes call sign: Freyja warning: mentions of violence and death (ofc), blood Next >>
John Price stood at a round table, leading the mission brief for the team’s upcoming operation. Ghost, Soap, and Gaz sat around the table in various positions. Soap with his boots kicked up onto the table, chair tilted back; Gaz leaned forward onto the table, his forearms on the surface; Ghost leaned back against his chair, arms crossed over his chest. Soap and Gaz wore their regulation tan t-shirts and camo pants, while Ghost was clad in a black long-sleeve and his standard skull balaclava.
“So if we’re stormin’ the building, we’re all accounted for,” Soap pointed out, clicking the pen between his fingers. “We need a sniper.”
“Called in a favor with a good friend, who should have been here–”
“Ten minutes ago,” a strong but mellow voice cut in as a figure turned through the doorway. “I know, sorry John. Got a bit caught up with my room assignment. Tried to put me on the other side of base.”
A woman came into view, offering her hand out to John. They firmly grasped each other’s forearms in a quick shake. Soap and Gaz both had only slightly surprised expressions. Not at the fact that their sniper was female; they’d worked with plenty of fierce women during their time in Task Force 141.
The fact that she did not look the part.
She wore a massively oversized black sweatshirt that brushed her thighs and dark blue skinny jeans, her hair loose down her back. Must’ve just got off a plane, Soap thought to himself, looking her up and down. Her stance showed her confidence, feet shoulder-width apart as she faced the team with a bright smile (one not often found in their field of work) and glowing skin. She wasn’t necessarily small, more average height, but her attire dwarfed her frame. 
“Thank you for joining us, Captain,” Price nodded at her. “This is Freyja. American Special Forces, sniper, undercover ops. She’s been briefed and will be joining us temporarily for the op. She comes highly recommended and outranks all of you, so I’d suggest you be on your best behavior.”
The woman jabbed Price with her elbow, rolling her eyes, much to Soap’s surprise. He barely suppressed the laugh that bubbled in his chest, unable to help the small choking laugh that escaped. Ghost glared at him and he quickly piped down.
“Thanks, John, but I think I’ll be fine. Glad to be of use.”
“Happy to have you. Let me know if you need anything while you’re here. I’ll leave you to it, get acquainted. We leave at 0400 hours. We’ll be infiltrating in daylight; prepare accordingly.”
“Aye, Captain,” Soap nodded once and saluted him, setting his chair back down as he rose. He watched John pat her shoulder on his way out, sharing what seemed like a knowing look, before finally departing to his quarters. Interesting.
Soap was the first to cross the room, taking her hand in a firm grip. “Pleasure to meet you, Captain. Sergeant John Mactavish,” he introduced, shaking her hand. He noted her equally firm grip and the cool metal of a wedding band pressing into his palm. Her skin was calloused yet soft, not as rough as his own. 
“Soap, right? Heard a lot about you.”
“Aye. Good things I hope?"
“Mostly.”
A boisterous laugh left him, so loud you’d think the room shook. Soap heard Gaz gag on his water before breaking into a choked wheeze. The other man approached, shaking her hand as well. “Kyle Garrick, call me Gaz.”
Her hands found their way into the pockets of her sweatshirt.
“So, Freyja… like the–?”
A gentle, airy giggle floated into his ears. What a lovely sound. “Yes, like the goddess. I know, my husband’s idea.”
Soap groaned, his head lolling back in faux agony as he pressed a hand to his chest. “You’re breakin’ my heart, lass. Was hopin’ ya didn’t have one’a those. He in the service?”
“He is, but you wouldn’t know him. Keeps a pretty low profile,” she shrugged, keeping her eyes on the two men in front of her.
”D’ya think I could take him?”
”Probably not.”
Neither Soap nor Gaz noticed the way Ghost’s mask twitched slightly, evidence of the smirk that pulled at his lips. But she knew his microexpressions like the back of her hand, even out of the corner of her eye. The Scot remembered Ghost’s presence suddenly and waved his hand in his direction. He hadn’t made any move to greet the newcomer and hadn’t spoken during the entire brief.
“Steamin’ Jesus, Ghost, you heard the man. Be nice to the lady!”
Ghost grunted, keeping his arms folded on his chest. “Captain.”
“Lieutenant.”
The two stared at each other, her brow quirked. As the seconds passed, the interaction became increasingly awkward for everyone else in the room. Even the thickest person on the planet could have sensed the tension. Unable to take the silence any longer, Gaz stepped in to attempt to relieve some tension. “You two worked together before?”
“You could say that,” Ghost stated as he rose from his chair. “A word, Freyja?”
Her tongue poked at the inside of her cheek and she squinted at him. It was almost comical, the height difference between the two. Typically, Soap would have made a snarky quip, if not for the vicious look in her eyes. He wouldn’t say it out loud to him, but the scowl rivaled his lieutenant‘s. Finally, she spoke, “Excuse us, gentlemen. I’ll see you in the morning. You know where to find me in the meantime.”
“G’night, Cap,” Soap nodded and moved to the side, allowing her to pass to the door. Ghost didn’t spare them another glance as he followed behind her. The two men stood silently until they heard a door slam shut up the hall. Soap snapped his gaze to Gaz and found him already looking with wide eyes.
“What was that about?”
Soap shrugged noncommittally. “Not a clue. Bad history? Ghost’s no’ exactly skilled in manners.” He went to head to his room when he noticed a military-issue duffel where Freyja had been standing, an American flag patch on the side. He bent down and slung it over his shoulder. “Left her stuff. I’m gonna drop it by ‘for hittin’ the hay. See ya in the mornin’.”
They went their separate ways, Gaz disappearing to the armory to stock up for the mission. Soap approached the only spare room in their wing and rapped his knuckles against the door. He waited for a few beats to no response and repeated the motion.
Nothing.
Soap’s brows furrowed when he heard what sounded like a muffled argument from the next door up, labeled “Lt. Riley”. Soap should have just left her duffel in front of her door and continued on his way to his bedroom, and gone to bed.
But no, he just had to snoop.
He crept toward the door, still holding the bag as he pressed his ear to the hollow wood. They clearly knew each other, but Ghost hadn’t seemed happy to see her. He felt a bit guilty spying on his lieutenant, but his curiosity was getting the better of him. He heard Ghost’s deep voice first.
“We had a deal. You’re supposed to be on leave, and Price knows that. I have half a mind to wring his fucking neck–”
“John didn’t ask me to be here, I volunteered–”
“Cut the shit, Y/N. I’m not daft. He has no place calling you in without asking me first.”
“I don’t take orders from you, Simon!”
Simon? Just how familiar were they with each other?
“Oh, I’m well aware. I just figured that when your husband asks you to stay home, you'd listen! How silly of me!”
So he knows her husband. Interesting. 
“That’s not fair, and you know it.”
“You want to talk about fair? You went around my back to my Captain. I’d say anything’s fair play at this point.” Heavy boots crossed the floor. “This isn’t just about you anymore. You’re not my superior, you’re–”
Soap shuffled his feet, he realized too late how loud the noise was in the empty hallway, and the voices suddenly stopped. He knocked in an attempt to recover, quickly stepping back from the door before it opened. The woman appeared, now in a too-big band tee, her dog tags resting on her chest. “Hi, Johnny,” she greeted, her tone significantly warmer than it had been a moment ago. 
He didn’t remember mentioning his preference for the name, but he couldn’t find a reason to comment on it then. “You, uh, left ya bag. Wanted to drop it off, figured you’d be here.”
“Oh, my bad. Thanks, I appreciate it.” He transferred her possessions to her. The bag that appeared standard when he carried it looked huge compared to her frame. The added weight did not phase her. “We have an early morning. I’m heading to bed.”
Ghost moved from his spot near the bed on the other side of the room. “Frey–”
She held a hand up, sending another chilling glare in his direction. Soap was impressed when Ghost didn’t even blink at the look. “Enough, Lieutenant. That’s an order.” He didn’t miss the eyes behind the skeleton glowering or how the fabric near his mouth shifted. 
“Yes, ma’am,” he growled through clenched teeth. 
She brushed by Soap, readjusting the bag on her shoulder as she stormed to her room, somehow gracefully maintaining her posture. Before he could turn back to question Ghost, the door swung shut in his face.
Real polite.
~*~
“Alpha-One, in position.”
“Copy that, one. Alpha-Two, in position.”
“Bravo?” Soap’s partner looked over his shoulder at the white light flashing at them in the distance. There was a muffled choking sound and a swallow, followed by a sniffle. “Freyja?”
“Sorry. Multiple armed guards. Two snipers at the east and west sides of the targets.” Her voice, while calm, sounded tired and a bit drained. As if she could sense the unspoken question, she came through their headsets again. “Little sick this morning. I’m fine.”
Ghost's jaw set and he rolled his shoulders, blinking a few times to focus. Soap noticed the motion and covered the mic on his headset. “You a’right, Lt.?” he asked, his voice concerned with his brows furrowed. 
Ghost ignored him. “Can you get a visual inside?”
“Negative. Windows are blocked in both buildings. You’re going blind.”
“What’s the call, ma’am?” Gaz’s voice.
“This is Price’s op. I’m just here for support.”
“Ghost?” Price this time. 
Ghost audibly sighed, his irritation at the situation clear. Soap wondered how bad their last encounter could have been for the usually collected man in front of him to be so disheveled. Soap looked over at the lieutenant, who had turned his attention back to the opening in the wall between them. “Bravo, hold your position. Understood?”
“Affirmative.”
“Alpha-One, move in on your target on my command.” Ghost clicked off his mic and slid the chamber back on his pistol, doing one final check.
Soap took the opportunity to follow up on his unanswered concern. “Ghost, you good? Seem tense. Something going on with the lass?”
“Shut up, Sergeant.” He reached up to click his headset back on. “Freyja cleared hot to engage.”
“Standby.” A beat passed, then another, until the suppressed shot of a sniper rifle rang through their headsets, followed by the bolt being pulled back and pushed forward. Another shot. “Clean hit. Snipers down.”
“Copy. Alpha-One, move in. Keep it quiet,” Ghost commanded, signaling Soap forward with a tilt of his head.
She watched Ghost and Soap move swiftly around structures and cars forward to their target. Her gaze periodically adjusted between them and Alpha-One, Gaz and Price. Soap’s accent was low in her ear. “Approaching target. Engaging two hostiles.”
The pair dispatched the guards with ease, the same as the other team up the road.
“Be advised, I have no eyes inside,” she reminded the group, surveying the surrounding area as both teams entered the building.
“Roger. Breaching.”
On their frequency, angry shouts and gunfire had her writing uncomfortably in her spot. She didn’t like not having a solid visual of her team; it made her feel helpless. The audio of the scene inside wasn’t helping her nerves (or nausea) much, either. The sniper was almost lost in her thoughts when she caught movement at the edge of her scope up the street.
Reinforcements.
“Ghost, engaging incoming hostiles. You might want to bug out,” she suggested, taking several shots at the armed men back-to-back. “Alpha-One, sound off.”
“Heard. Intel acquired,” Price acknowledged. “Clearing out.”
“Alpha-Two, how copy?”
The radio crackled once before Soap came through. “Copy, I’ve lost visual on Ghost. Got separated in the firefight,” he grunted, still firing shots inside the building. “‘M gonna have to squirt.”
Something wasn’t right. “Ghost, how copy?”
Silence.
“Lieutenant, what’s your status?”
Her skin crawled at the repeated silence. “Fuck.” She took a deep breath and pulled her knees underneath her body, her stomach suddenly stilling, nausea disappearing. “Abandoning post.” Her voice pierced through their radios with urgency. She abandoned her rifle and made her way down from her perch.
“Absolutely not. We’re converging at the meeting point now.” Price cursed under his breath as she brandished her sidearm and sprinted towards Ghost’s last location. “Stand down, Bravo, that’s an order!” The captain commanded, rough and authoritative.
“All due respect, Price, get bent.”
Price and Gaz watched helplessly as she disappeared into the structure, Soap approaching them from their flank. “The absolute balls on that one, aye?” he snickered, eyeballing Price. He didn’t even flinch, expression hard as steel as he rubbed his face. He hadn’t seen his captain that stressed in quite a while. Maybe not the time for jokes…
The blood-curdling screams Soap heard would scare any man straight. It sounded like a horror movie slaughterhouse over their comms, whether it was caused by Ghost or Freyja he didn’t know. He did know it was her voice that said Ghost’s name and assumed the distant, heated mumbling was Ghost. He must have lost his headset if they couldn’t hear him clearly, and what they were hearing was whatever her comms picked up. “Shut the fuck up and move. If you were fine, I wouldn’t be here, Lieutenant. You can thank me later,” she snapped, sounding eerily similar to a stereotypical angry wife. There’s no way she cleared out that entire convoy on her own…
Right?
Moments later, without any other gunfire, the pair emerged. Ghost was indeed missing his headset, while Freyja trudged in front of him, taking long steps to cross the street. Her helmet was gone, and her hair had come loose. Gun in one hand, a familiar black combat knife in the other, dripping blood. Strands of hair clung to her face, coated in dark red, along with her hands, bare arms, and vest. Soap’s eyes blew wide. “Steamin’ bloody Jesus, did she–?”
Price hummed and nodded beside him. In the same breath, she stumbled over to a car and gripped the door handle, dumping her stomach on the dusty road. Soap and Gaz moved to help, but Price stopped them with a single grunt. Ghost was immediately on her, expertly sweeping her hair into one hand as he pulled her earpiece out, cutting off their audio. One of her hands grabbed his vest for support while his other hand rested on her back.
“Well, that’s unusual,” Soap chimed, his head cocked to the side as he watched the display.
“Quit starin’ and load up. I doubt that’s the last of those reinforcements.” Price waved at them, catching Ghost’s attention and pointing to an approaching Heli, waving his hand in a “roll out” motion.
~*~
The ride back to base in the heli was one of the most awkward experiences of Soap’s life; not a word was spoken during the short trip. Ghost pulled a rag out of his vest and silently handed it to Freyja to wipe some blood from her face; she passed him the blade she had carried, and he finally placed its familiarity when Ghost tucked it into the empty holster at his hip. She looked utterly drained now that they were in close quarters. In another shocking moment, she rested her head on Ghost’s shoulder, and he didn’t move to shove her off.
What the fuck?
At the base, Ghost dropped her off at the medical bay before storming into the meeting room where the team had gathered to debrief. “You’re a dead man, Price,” he barked, finger jabbed at him as his skull plate skittered across the table when he threw it. “You fuckin’ knew–”
“Simon, I’m sorry–”
“Don’t “Simon” me. Sorry’s not gonna cut it, Captain! If she’s hurt–”
“I didn’t think she would compromise herself that easily.”
Ghost barked a dry, humorless laugh as he pointed in the general direction of the infirmary. “Of course, she’s bloody compromised! She’s my fuckin’ wife, you git!” he snarled, teeth viciously bared as he ripped off his mask.
“Hell’s fuckin’ bells…”
“Bloody hell…”
He was too angry (and, frankly, scared for his wife’s health) to acknowledge their audience. “This is exactly why I told you not to call her. I can’t focus if I’m worried about her safety right now. She’s supposed to be safe at home, resting, not running into a bloody warzone, for God’s sake!” 
“She was told not to leave her post–”
“When has she ever obeyed a direct order?”
Silence fell over the group, Price effectively losing the argument. Neither Sergeant wanted to find themselves on the other end of Ghost’s rage. They had no envy for Price and dared not get between them. No envy at all. On the other hand, Soap had so many questions. Since where was Ghost married? When did he have the time for a wife? And an American at that? How long had he been keeping her a secret?
“Simon.”
Four heads whipped to the soft voice across the room, finding the woman of the hour standing in the doorway. A superficial cut on her forehead had been taped up, her face clear of blood. Soap and Gaz stared at her in disbelief, jaws dropped as they looked from her to Ghost and back again. She chuckled at their expressions but didn’t move to approach them. “Captain Riley. Lovely to meet you both, officially,” she reintroduced herself, a slight smirk on her lips. She finally met her husband’s gaze, her expression softened at his bare face, save for the black paint.
He curled two fingers at her, one arm crossed over his chest. “C’mere. Now,” he ordered her, though his tone had little bite to it.
Even only knowing the sniper for such little time, Soap was outright shocked at the display. Flabbergasted by her obedience when she immediately strode to the spot next to him, barely leaving any space between their chests. It didn’t seem like her. He was obviously wrong, considering what he’d just witnessed. 
Ghost took a deep breath as he peered down at her, examining her visible skin for injuries. “I’m right pissed at you, love,” he muttered, allowing her to loop a finger in his belt loop.
She smiled up at him, her admiration clear now that the sergeants had been let in on the secret. “I know.”
“Don’t give me that look.” The man sighed exasperatedly and rolled his eyes. He knew he couldn’t hold his ground with that smile of hers. He dropped a gloved hand to rest on her lower belly, rubbing the spot with his thumb. “You alright?”
She placed her hand on top of his and bobbed her head. Her familiar glow from the night before had returned.
“I’d like an apology.”
“And I’d like a parade in my honor. Oh, and a good ol’ fashioned fu–”
“Oi, better watch that fuckin’ mouth of yours.”
“You love my mouth.”
“Tha’ I do. Just not right now, sweetheart.”
Soap couldn’t take it anymore. “Steamin’ blood Jesus L.t., are you…flirting?”
“Shamelessly,” she giggled, never once tearing her eyes away from the man towering over her.
Ghost rolled his eyes again, his other hand slipping into its home on the side of her neck. “You’re done. I mean it. And if you call her again, I walk,” he threatened, turning his head to address Price directly. “Don’t think I won’t.”
“Ghost, she held her own just fine,” Soap interjected from his chair. “Hen took out an entire squad practically single-handedly, plus the convoy before she went in after ya. I don’t see the problem.”
Realization dawned on Gaz suddenly, forcing him to his feet again. “You’re pregnant,” he exclaimed, both in shock and awe. “That’s why you were feeling sick. And the big clothes. You’re on maternity leave."
The lack of response from John and Freyja and how Ghost studied Gaz said everything they needed to know.
“No wonder you’ve been downright crabbit with her! Can’t say I blame ye, ‘s too dangerous out there to be mucking about with a little one in there.” Soap rose to his feet too, smiling like a cheeseball, ready to ruthlessly tease him. “How’d you manage that, Ghost? A bangin’ wife and a baby?”
“I know it’s been a while for you, Sarge–”
“Aw, away n’ bile yer heid!” the Scot barked, dismissing his lieutenant with a wave.
“English, MacTavish.”
“Sorry, sir, let me translate…Go fuck yourself.”
“Much better.”
He moved on from Ghost, addressing Freyja now. “I’ve so many questions! How long ‘ave you been together?” Soap leaned against the round table in front of them, his hands dragging across the shaved portion of his head.
“How old am I?” Ghost asked in a low, teasing timber.
Her upper lip tugged upwards as her hand wavered, indicating an estimate. “Five years, give or take.”
“Five years?! Son of the god-damn-devil, Lt! You’ve had a secret wife for five years–” He cut himself off with a gasp, his volume dropping to a brash whisper. “Does he take the mask off when you—”
“Tha’ll do, Johnny.”
Her bubbly laugh filled the room, and she swatted his tactical vest with her palm. “Si, don’t be an ass,” she warned, raising a brow at him. “Oh, John! I have pictures for you!” The woman let go of her husband and dug out folded ultrasound photos from her zipped pocket. She, Price, and Gaz moved to another corner of the room, gushing over the snapshots of her latest appointment before flying out, leaving Soap and Ghost alone by the meeting table.
A mischievous grin overtook Soap’s face. “An American, eh, Lt.? And she outranks you?”
“Not another word, Sergeant.”
A long pause stretched between them, although not long enough for Ghost’s liking.
“So… Goddess of love, beauty, and war,” he inquired, raising an eyebrow at the Brit, who threw him a questioning side-eye. Soap hummed. “Fitting.”
Soap almost gawked at the smirk (borderline smile) that Ghost bore as he watched his wife animatedly pour over her photos. “I’m well aware.” Another moment passed between them before Ghost fully turned to the other man. “Johnny?”
“Yeah, Ghost?"
“Flirt with my wife again, I’ll knock your teeth in."
"Noted, sir."
Copyright © 2023 as-is-above-so-below. All rights reserved.
9K notes · View notes
alastor-simp · 4 months
Text
La Vie en Rose🌹 - Alastor X Reader
Tumblr media
Requested by @hitherethea
"Ugh FML!" Groaning out loud, your body was slowly making its way to somewhere quiet. Today was a very unlucky day, as there was many mishaps that left you feeling frustrated and emotionally drained. Earlier in the morning, you dropped a few plates while putting them away for Niffty. Niffty said it was fine and cleaned up the mess, but it left you feeling extremely guilty. After that incident, you were tasked with getting some groceries for the kitchen, only to being catcalled and nearly sexually harassed by some grotesque reptile demons once you started to head back to the hotel. Nothing happened to you physically, but god, why do some people have to be so gross?! Once you got back, your head got nearly speared by Vaggie on accident when you walked in through the door. She wasn't aiming for you thankfully, she was trying to hit Sir Pentious after he accidentally blasted her favorite ribbon with a laser gun. She grabbed the spear and ran away to catch Sir Pentious, yelling out an apology to you as she chased after a screaming snake slithering down the hallway.
Lord you couldn't catch a break. Your only place of sanctuary was the porch in your room. The view always helped you relaxed and the breeze was nice, despite the mass pollution in the air. Entering your room, you slowly made your way to the porch. The sky was covered in stars, but instead of pitch black, it was a dark vermilion. Well, this was Hell, so it was better then nothing. Heaving a sigh, you moved to one of the chairs on the porch and took a seat, throwing your head back as you tried to relax from the migraine that was starting to form. A few minutes went by as you continued to lean back in the chair, listening to the sounds of the cars screeching below and people yelling profanities at one another. "Why the long face my dear?" A static voice appeared next to your head, causing you to jolt and nearly fall off the chair. Looking up, you see a certain deer demon, leaning down due to his tall height, smiling like a jester at your reaction. "Not funny Al." Grumbling from your position, you got up and sat back properly in your seat. Alastor stood up to his normal position, and broke into a fit of laughter, probably still finding your reaction hilarious. "HAHA! Apologies, my dear! I didn't expect you to take a tumble!" He made his way over to the other chair and sat down, placing his microphone against the wall, before turning to you with his legs crossed and hands on his lap. Finding his response ridiculous, you rolled your eyes. "Yeah right. You enjoy scaring the crap out of everyone."
Shrugging his shoulders, he continued to stare at you, smiling widely. "Anyhoo! What seems to be troubling you, my dear?" Alastor asked you, as he continued to stare at you. His sharp smile turn to a more soft grin as he awaited your response. Sighing again, your eyes turn back to gaze at the view. "Not a very good day today. I made a mess for Niffty, almost got raped by some gross lizard-like demons when I left the grocery store, and then the icing on the cake was getting nearly speared by Vaggie from her chasing after Sir Pentious." Alastor continued to listen to you, his face changing a bit from slight sadness to extreme anger, especially when you mentioned the demons who tried to assault you. Looks like he has some hunting to do later. He may be a serial killer, but any inappropriate actions towards a lady infuriates him. Pushing his feelings of carnage away, he continued to stare at you. Your body was slouched on the chair as your eyes continued to stare at the sky. Instead of the kind smile you usually wore, it was replaced with a somber frown. Moving his hand slowly, he placed his clawed hand on your head, giving you a slight rub. He wasn't use to acts of affection, so this was the best he could offer. "Is there something I can do to make that frown of yours turn back into a smile?" Surprised by Al's words, you looked back at him. He was still smiling, but he was staring at you with kind eyes. You found it sweet that he wanted to cheer you up instead of leaving you alone in your negative emotions. Thinking long and hard about what you wanted, you came to a conclusion.
"Um, could you sing for me perhaps?" Al nearly froze at your request. Out of all the things you wanted, you wanted to hear him sing? Oh what a charming doll you were! Alastors smile grew tremendously, almost to the point it broke his face. Grabbing his microphone, he turned to you, positively joyful at your request. "My my! What an adorable request! Now then! What song would you like me to sing my dear? Request away!" Alastor was beaming at you. He was surprisingly cute like this, but you wouldn't tell him that. Any song? This was tough. You knew he was a fan of oldies and jazz and detested some music genres. Soon you came up with the perfect song for him to sing to you. Blushing at him, you looked away from him, twirling your hair with your fingers. "La vie en rose, please." Alastor was actually surprised at your choice, as he tilted his head. "Why that particular song, my dear?" You looked back at him, face flushed. "Well, I heard that you knew how to speak French, so I kinda wanted to see if it was true or not." Twiddling your fingers, you continued to stare at Al, who was still smiling. "Can you really? Speak French, I mean?" Alastor nodded his head: "Oui mon cher!" Oh no, that made your heart race. Al's voice was already amazing as it was, now you get to hear him sing to you in French?! Someone better pinch you to make sure this is not a dream.
Clearing his throat, Alastor adjusted his position, placing his mic in front of him, as he was preparing for his small performance for you.
youtube
(Credit to Paranoid Dj on Youtube for this awesome cover)
🎶𝑄𝑢𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑖𝑙 𝑚𝑒 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑑 𝑑𝑎𝑛𝑠 𝑠𝑒𝑠 𝑏𝑟𝑎𝑠
𝑄𝑢'𝑖𝑙 𝑚𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑙𝑒 𝑡𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑏𝑎𝑠
𝐽𝑒 𝑣𝑜𝑖𝑠 𝑙𝑎 𝑣𝑖𝑒 𝑒𝑛 𝑟𝑜𝑠𝑒
𝐼𝑙 𝑚𝑒 𝑑𝑖𝑡 𝑑𝑒𝑠 𝑚𝑜𝑡𝑠 𝑑'𝑎𝑚𝑜𝑢𝑟
𝐷𝑒𝑠 𝑚𝑜𝑡𝑠 𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑜𝑢𝑠 𝑙𝑒𝑠 𝑗𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑠
𝑀𝑎𝑖𝑠 𝑚𝑜𝑖, 𝑐̧𝑎 𝑚𝑒 𝑓𝑎𝑖𝑡 𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑙𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑐ℎ𝑜𝑠𝑒
𝐼𝑙 𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑒́ 𝑑𝑎𝑛𝑠 𝑚𝑜𝑛 𝑐œ𝑢𝑟
𝑈𝑛𝑒 𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑑𝑒 𝑏𝑜𝑛ℎ𝑒𝑢𝑟
𝐷𝑜𝑛𝑡 𝑗𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑛𝑎𝑖𝑠 𝑙𝑎 𝑐𝑎𝑢𝑠𝑒
𝐶'𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑙𝑢𝑖 𝑝𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑚𝑜𝑖, 𝑚𝑜𝑖 𝑝𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑙𝑢𝑖 𝑑𝑎𝑛𝑠 𝑙𝑎 𝑣𝑖𝑒
𝐼𝑙 𝑚𝑒 𝑙'𝑎 𝑑𝑖𝑡, 𝑙'𝑎 𝑗𝑢𝑟𝑒́ 𝑝𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑙𝑎 𝑣𝑖𝑒
𝐸𝑡 𝑑𝑒̀𝑠 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑗𝑒 𝑙'𝑎𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑐̧𝑜𝑖𝑠
𝐴𝑙𝑜𝑟𝑠 𝑗𝑒 𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑠 𝑒𝑛 𝑚𝑜𝑖
𝑀𝑜𝑛 𝑐œ𝑢𝑟 𝑞𝑢𝑖 𝑏𝑎𝑡🎶
Two words, HOLY S***! His voice was incredible! The whole time during his performance, you were blushing madly, but also it felt like all the frustration you were feeling before slowly diminished. Singing out the last of the lyrics, a sound of applause radiated from his microphone. "Enjoyed the performance, darling?" Alastor looked back at you, noticing your flushed face and wide eyes. "Darling?" Alastor tilted his head at you, confused at your reaction. Breaking from your trance, you started nodding rapidly. "Yes! I enjoyed your performance very much!" Satisfied that you enjoyed it, Alastor gave a nod, as he placed his microphone back to where he left it. Looking back at you, he raised his hand and grabbed your chin with his fingers. "Feeling better, chérie?" His ruby eyes gazed into yours, almost as if he was staring into your soul. Heat rose to your cheeks as you suspected you were as red as his hair. "Y-es I am. Thank you again Al." No longer feeling upset about the day, your emotions improved and you gave Al a warm smile. Humming with approval, Al still held your chin, but not before leaning closer to the point your noses were touching. "Wonderful my dear! Glad your smile has returned especially since you are never fully dressed without one! If you desire another performance in the future, seek me out."
Goosebumps began to form on your skin, as you continued to stare at Al. He is so close!!! Tongue-tied, you nodded your head. Pleased with your response, Al let go of your chin and stood up from the chair, adjusting his suit and hair. He remembered his previous mission, before he sang to you. Feelings of wrath and rage bubbled inside him, but he hid it as not to alarm you. "Well then! I have some business to attend to at the moment! Have a good evening my dear!" Alastor bid you a farewell, as he diminished in a black shadow, and disappeared from your eyes. Watching Al leave, you covered your face with your hands. It was true you were no longer feeling upset about today, but now you were starting to feel other emotions. Your heart was pounding and your palms were sweating. What was this feeling? It wasn't fear, cause you knew you weren't scared of Alastor, so what was it? Admiration? Or was it something else?
3K notes · View notes
jobean12-blog · 3 months
Text
This Spells Love
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader (Best friends to lovers)
Word Count: 2,782
Summary: Bucky is your best friend and he really is the best but he wants more, he wants everything, but the idea that it could ruin your friendship and he could lose you is too much...
Author's Note: This is for @the-slumberparty February Sleepover Challenge, Eight Types of Love and Philia (deep friendshp-friends to lovers). Our reader is a bit oblivious to Bucky's feelings but it all works out just fine in the end. Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy!
Warnings: lots of fun and fluff and sweetness and Bucky being the best and some tension and a bit of flirty fun too, slightly oblivious reader.
Tumblr media
The groan Bucky lets loose makes you spin your head to look at him.
“Did you say something?” you ask, trying to speak loud enough over the din of the bar.
He shakes his head no and digs his teeth into his bottom lip when you smile and shift again in his lap, turning back to your group of friends. Every time you move it’s sweet torture but he can’t seem to keep himself away…and besides, there are no empty seats…he can’t let you stand and you wouldn’t want him to stand…so sitting in his lap it is!
His fingers dig into your thigh and you turn to face him again.
“Are you sure?” you ask, searching his face.
“Yeah, doll. All good.”
Steve shoots Bucky a smirk and Bucky shoots back a steady death glare.
“Did I miss something?” you ask Nat, who’s sitting to your left.
She just smiles and takes a sip of her drink.
You can feel Bucky’s warm breath on your neck before he speaks.
“You want another doll face?” he asks.
With a pensive tilt of your head you pause before telling him, “yeah, one more.”
“I’ll be right back,” he whispers against your ear.
He deposits you in the seat and walks toward the bar.
You instantly feel his absence and fiddle with your empty glass. You listen to Steve and Sam argue about their last run time while Nat and Wanda chime in, teasing both boys but the conversation starts to fade away when you feel the weight of Bucky’s eyes and you look toward the bar to catch him staring.
He waves awkwardly and you giggle.
“I’ll be right back,” you say to the table.
When you reach the bar Bucky’s eyebrows shoot up in question.
“You looked bored,” you shrug.
“Thanks doll,” he winks.
There are even more people by the bar and they continue to crowd around you, pushing to get closer. When someone bumps you particularly hard Bucky pins them with a murderous stare before he slips his metal arm around your waist and pulls you in front of him.
He settles both hands on the bar top on either side of you and leans his chin on your shoulder.
“Too many people,” he explains as his hard chest presses into your back.
You snuggle into the safety of his arms and wait for your drink.
“Are you ever gonna say something to her man?” Sam asks Bucky as they stand outside the bar with Steve.
You, Wanda and Nat are in the bathroom.
“About what?” Bucky asks with an incredulous expression.
Sam rolls his eyes and Steve’s hands land on his hips.
“Buck,” Steve sighs. “You’re torturing yourself.”
“No I’m not,” Bucky counters. “Not having her at all would be torture.”
His last words come out quietly and Sam and Steve give each other a knowing look.
“Well, I still think you should do something…say something…she might feel the same way. What have you got to lose?” Sam asks.
“Everything,” Bucky answers as he watches you come out the door and back to his side.
Tumblr media
As you walk down the street toward your apartment building you can feel Bucky staring so you give him a sideways glance.
“It’s the shoes, isn’t it?” he demands when he catches your eye.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you say and lift your chin.
“This always happens at the end of the night doll face. You wear these shoes and they hurt your feet and then I’m supposed to just watch you suffer.”
 “I have a solution,” you chime with a determined smile.
He stops walking to watch as you slip off your shoes and place your bare feet back onto the sidewalk with a contented sigh.
When you see Bucky’s scowl it makes your smile widen. “What’s the problem now Barnes?”
“Put them back on doll. You’re going to step on something like broken glass or worse…”
You spin away with a breeze and start walking again but before you get very far your feet leave the ground and you’re cradled against his chest.
“You were put on his Earth to drive me crazy; you know that doll face?”
“I’m not sorry about it,” you whisper into the collar of his shirt. “Does that make me a bad person?”
You giggle when you feel his huff of frustration.
“No. You could never be a bad person.”
As you nuzzle closer and inhale his familiar scent you express a quiet, “thank you,” before yawning.
“Too tired for the stars tonight?” he asks as his arms flex to heft you higher.
“No! I love when we look at the stars.” You tilt your head back and look at the sky. “It’s a clear night too.”
“Don’t you like it?” you ask, bringing your eyes back to his.
“I love it,” he says. “Just like I love when you practice new baking recipes and I get to taste test them all.”
“That’s fun for me too except that you say you like everything I bake! It can’t all be that good.”
You lay a soft hand against his scruffy cheek and the corner of his mouth kicks up.
“It’s all that good,” he says, his tone leaving no room for argument.
“Well the next time my macaroons don’t have good feet you better speak up Buck!”
“Macarons have feet…not macaroons…big difference,” he says.
You hum against his neck with a smile. “I know that. Just making sure were paying attention.”
His hold on you tightens slightly and he looks down just as your eyes start to close.
He’s always paying attention.
Tumblr media
Bucky slows his steps and turns on his heels, watching as Sam and Steve approach.
“Man you two are slow today,” he teases.
Steve purses his lips and throws a thumb in Sam’s direction. “I’m just trying to keep this one company.”
Sam grunts out a string of curses and plops down on the nearby bench.
“I can’t stand either of you,” Sam says between catching his breath.
“I have to make a phone call,” Bucky states as he saunters off for some privacy.
He presses your name on the screen and puts it to his ear.
“Hiya doll face,” he says when you pick up.
“Hi Buck!”
“Are you on your way home yet?”
“I am.”
“Pizza?”
“Sure, I’m starving…”
“Me t…”
“Of course you are,” you cut in. “You’re always hungry.”
He laughs. “Well I did just finish a run.”
“I’ll meet you at my place?” you ask.
“Sounds good, how much time do you need?”
You open your mouth to answer but the words die on your lips when your foot catches a crack on the sidewalk and you careen forward.
“Doll?” Bucky asks, “you still there?”
He hears scuffling but you still don’t answer.
“Doll?”
His heart beats faster the longer you don’t reply and instinctively his feet start to carry him toward your workplace.
“Where are you goin’?” Sam asks as Bucky runs by.
“Everything ok?” Steve asks.
“I gotta go,” is all Bucky says as he starts jogging.
He’s already half way to you when you pick your phone up off the concrete and try to say hello. The screen is cracked and black and you curse under your breath.
“Bucky?” you say softly but your phone is dead.
You try to put pressure on your ankle but it hurts and with a wince you scoot backwards to avoid the foot traffic. You search the crowd, waiting for someone to stop and help but it isn’t until you see Bucky rush toward you that you feel true relief.
He’s at your side, kneeling on the concrete and running his eyes over every inch of you. He’s sweaty and breathing heavily and one of the most welcoming sights you’ve ever seen.
“Thank fuck,” he breathes out. “I was worried sick.”
You start to say you’re sorry but he interrupts you.
“You tripped didn’t you?” he asks.
You nod.
“How?”
“My foot…got stuck. I don’t even know.”
He stares at you blankly before pinching the bridge of his nose. When he opens his mouth to speak you clap a hand over it.
“I know…I’m clumsy and I have to be more careful…just take me home.”
His expression softens.
“Of course doll, it’s a good thing I’m here.”
“It is,” you echo. “I’m glad you’re here.”
He gently brushes his fingers over your ankle, inspecting it.
“Come on doll. Let’s get some ice on this.”
When you reach the door of your apartment Bucky props you up against his side, his hand secured around your waist and his fingers slipping under your shirt when he moves so you can get your keys.
He sucks in a breath at the contact and you give him a confused look.
“What happened?”
“Nothin’,” he answers, willing his fingers to stay put and not explore your soft skin. “Got your keys?”
“Right here,” you say and hand them over.
He unlocks the door and helps you inside.
“We forgot the pizza!” you say, whirling around and nearly falling over since you’re mostly supporting yourself on one leg.
He reaches out and snakes his arm around your waist again. “Woah, careful doll face.”
You place a palm on his chest and lean into him. “I’m hungry.”
“I’ll order a pizza right now. Don’t worry.”
“Order two. You practically eat a whole one yourself.”
“True,” he winks.
He pulls out his phone and starts to dial the pizza place.
“Wanna stay and watch a movie?” you ask.
His fingers pause and hover over the buttons as he looks up at you. “Which movie?”
“Hmm…how about Magic Mike?”
“Doll.”
“Alien?”
“You won’t sleep for weeks,” he says with a stern look.
“Fine! What about…” and you tap your chin.
“Notting Hill,” he suggests.
Your eyebrows shoot up. “Really?”
“Sure,” he shrugs and rubs the back of his neck. “Steve said I should watch it.”
You give him a wide smile and push from his grasp, limping toward your bedroom. Bucky watches until you safely sit yourself on the bed and then goes to the freezer to grab a frozen bag of vegetables.
“I can’t wait until the pizza gets here,” you sigh as you start to unbutton your shirt. He tries to focus on what you’re saying but when you pull the fabric from your shoulders and reveal the light camisole beneath he suddenly feels like a trapped animal needing to either pounce or run away at full speed.
“Will you put the movie on Buck? I don’t want to get up again.”
You collapse back onto the bed and needing the closest distraction he takes the bag of peas and places it on your ankle, adjusting it so it doesn’t fall.
“Thanks,” you say. “Don’t forget the movie Buck.”
He blinks at you several times. “You want to watch it in here? What about the couch?”
He gestures to himself. “Look at me. I can’t get in your bed like this. I’m a sweaty mess.”
“You smell good to me but if you want to shower, there are extra towels in the hall closet.”
You hear the water turn on a few minutes later and realize you’re thirsty so you peel yourself off the bed and limp to the kitchen, knowing Bucky will reprimand you when he realizes you got up without his help.
Once you have your water you go back to your bedroom and wait for the shower to turn off, closing your eyes briefly.
You don’t even realize you’ve lightly dozed off until you hear Bucky’s heavy tread on the wood floor. You open your eyes and see him standing in the doorway, filling the entire frame.
Shirtless. Skin still shiny with wetness and his jeans sitting low on his hips, revealing the V shape of his muscles. And then you drag your eyes higher and stare at his abs, now flexing as he lifts the towel and rubs it over his hair one last time.
His metal arm shines under the bright lights in your room, distracting you further but not enough to miss the droplet of water that escapes the swipe of the towel and rolls down his sharp jaw before sliding down his neck and between his pecs. It get’s lost somewhere in the valleys of his six pack but your eyes move down again, landing on the dark trail of hair below his belly button.
“Did you forget I was here doll face?” he asks.
The sound of his voice pulls you from your haze and your eyes shoot up to his.
“No…” you start. “I just…I don’t understand.”
“Understand what?”
“How?”
“Doll did you hit your head when you fell?”
“NO!” you answer far too loudly. “It’s not that. I’m fine. My ankle just hurts but I don’t understand how you have those abs.”
You motion to his stomach and he looks down.
“You eat whole pizzas!”
He throws his head back with a laugh and then drops the towel into your hamper. He’s still grinning when he rounds the bed and climbs in behind you, all his muscles flexing as he settles in.
“Yeah well, I run a lot…and you know the serum helps.”
Your laughter eases the tension a little but only until he places his hands beneath his head and stretches out, making your bed feel tiny.
“Why don’t you ever bring girls around Buck?”
Your question surprises both of you and your apology catches in your throat.
He sits up without warning and reaches for your glass of water, taking a long sip.
“Forget I asked,” you mumble. “I shouldn’t have.”
He shakes his head and takes another drink.
“Do you want me to bring girls around?”
Your immediate reaction is to inwardly scream NO! but instead you ask, “would we still be able to hang out like we do?”
“Probably not doll face,” he says and shifts closer. “Pretty sure you’d make any girl jealous.”
“Then no,” you whisper. “No girls.”
You look away with the admission and then blurt out.
“You smell like my bodywash now. Did you use my shampoo too?”
“Nah,” he murmurs. “Just used the bar soap.”
You face him again and then lean over to sniff his head.
“You definitely used it, don’t lie!”
Capitalizing on having you so close Bucky wraps his arm around you and draws you against his side. Your head lands on his shoulder and you instantly relax, feeling safe and warm.
“You smell good. I like it,” he murmurs.
“I like the way you smell better,” you say sleepily, mumbling something else incoherent before you start to doze off.
Tumblr media
You wake slowly and as the heaviness of sleep wears off you open your eyes to partial darkness and become acutely aware of the hum of anticipation that travels over your sensitized and warm skin. You feel taut and the building pressure between your legs makes you rub your thighs together.
Bucky’s steadying breath makes you turn in his arms, your chest brushing his. You can feel your pulse beat against your skin, pounding wildly all over your body.
For long seconds you study his face and then your eyes are obscured by your lashes when your gaze travels lower, over his bare chest and then even lower to the obvious bulge in his jeans.
“Bucky I…”
Your eyes lock for a fleeting moment and then his gaze drops to your mouth. He dips his head, running his nose along your jaw until his lips lightly brushing the skin of your cheek.
“If you want me to stop…tell me now.”
You say nothing, his delicate touch making your entire body tremble. Then his lips graze yours, just barely, the quick taste not nearly enough.
“Or now…”
Your eyes are closed and you make no sound.
He presses his lips to yours, softly at first, searching and waiting for you to react but when a moan gathers at the back of your throat it’s all the reassurance he needs and he sweeps his thumb across your cheek, cradling your face and angling your head for a deeper taste.
When he rolls his hips you feel the fullness of his arousal against your belly and your lips part on a gasp. A low growl rumbles in his chest and he pulls away to look at you.
“Is that for me?” you ask, still breathless.
“It’s all yours…if you want it.”
His eyes darken with the words and you see the heat in his intense gaze but it only makes you feel coveted and safe.
“I want you Bucky. I don’t want anyone but you.”
Tumblr media
@hiddles-rose @randomfandompenguin @goldylions @kmc1989 @buckysdollforlife @blackwidownat2814
2K notes · View notes
itadorey · 6 months
Text
Tumblr media
𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐖— gojo satoru
Tumblr media
pairing: gojo satoru x gn!reader summary: it's hard to hide your relationship when your boyfriend has a staring problem. genre: fluff, humor (?), secret relationship notes: inspired by a real incident (aware). not revised, sorry for any mistakes </3 wc: ~2.4k
Tumblr media
he’s staring.
you're sitting on the couch, curled up in the corner and chatting with shoko about your hellish weeks, and he's just staring.
you keep your gaze on shoko, refusing to look at gojo as he stands in the doorway and all but ignores geto's greeting. it's a little embarrassing, really, and you can't help but spare a glance in his direction in order to give him a sharp glare. the corners of his lips tug up at your action, and he reluctantly tears his eyes away from you and greets geto with an enthusiastic hug.
"i brought cookie dough!" gojo announces proudly, puffing his chest out as the rest of you groan. he all but wilts at the sound you all make, and you can see his lips forming a pout as he gives you all an expectant look. "what's the issue?"
"last time you tried to bake cookies, you burnt them," shoko says dryly, letting her head fall back against the couch as she complains. "for someone who claims to be good at everything you sure seem to love proving yourself wrong."
"that's because i didn't read the instructions, shoko," gojo explains patiently, face smug as he smirks. "but it'll be fine this time because you'll be the one making them."
"like hell i will," shoko snaps, eyes narrowing as she turns her head to glare at gojo.
"then i'll just try my luck again, i guess," gojo says breezily, meeting her glare evenly. the two of them stare each other down for a couple of seconds before shoko lets out a loud sigh and stands up, stalking over to gojo and snatching the container out of his hands. a snicker leaves his lips as she starts to walk towards the kitchen, and it only turns into a full blown laugh when she picks up the nearest thing (which happens to be geto's water bottle) and launches it at him.
"suguru!" shoko yells once she's in the kitchen. "get in here! you're going to help me."
"i'll be right back," geto says, smiling amicably before slipping through the doorway. you turn to finally face gojo, smiling as he bends down to pick up the fallen water bottle before placing it on the table beside him. the smile remains on your face as he approaches, and he can't help but smile in return as he casually points to the now empty space next to you.
"this seat taken?"
"yeah, by shoko," you scoff lightly, shaking your head lightly when he ignores your words and plops himself down next to you. he rests his arm on the back of the couch, and his added weight has the cushion sinking in a way that forces you to lean into him.
"oh? is that so?" gojo asks, an innocent smile on his face as he inches forward the slightest bit.
"yeah," you breathe, eyes darting towards the kitchen to make sure that geto and shoko are still occupied.
"but she's not here right now," gojo teases, chuckling when you roll your eyes.
"she'll come back eventually."
"and she can sit on my other side," gojo states confidently, leaning in even further with a cocky little grin on his face. "besides, we both know she likes curling up and resting her head on the arm rest."
"but she always insists on sitting next to me," you argue, giving in and leaning in as well.
"then you can sit in the middle," gojo whispers, his lips brushing against yours the slightest bit. "that way it's a win-win for everyone involved."
"what about suguru? where will he sit?"
"who cares?" gojo murmurs, eyes fluttering shut as he leans in fully to kiss you.
"the cookies will be ready in fifteen minutes!"
the two of you spring apart, almost leaping to opposite ends of the couch as shoko peeks her head into the living room. there's a moment of silence as she glances between the two of you, and it isn't until she turns to look back at who you assume is geto that you share a mildly panicked look with gojo.
"do we wanna wait or should we just start the movie?" shoko asks, drawing your attention back to her.
"let's just start the movie," you say, willing yourself to sound as normal as possible. shoko nods in return, stepping back into the living room with geto trailing behind her. she makes her way to the couch as geto approaches the tv, gingerly plucking the remote from behind it before settling down on the ground. shoko comes to a stop in front of gojo, motioning for him to move from his spot so she can sit.
you shuffle awkwardly across the couch as gojo makes his way to the other end of the couch, sinking into the middle seat as shoko curls up on the edge and rests her head on the arm rest. you turn to look at gojo when he plops down next to you, only to be met with a smug expression that screams 'i told you so'. the tv comes to life as geto nestles himself into the spot between you and shoko, his broad back pressed firmly up against the couch and preventing you from moving to the left in fear of accidentally kicking him.
"so what are we thinking?" geto asks, tilting his head back to look at the three of you. "comedy? action? romance?"
"horror," you reply flatly, choosing to ignore the look geto had sent your way when he had suggested romance. you smirk when you notice his expression fall, and he merely grumbles something under his breath before shifting his attention back to the tv.
"any objections?" geto asks, sparing a glance at shoko and frowning when she shakes her head. "any at all?"
"just choose a movie," shoko sighs, lightly kicking the back of geto's head. it's silent as geto finally settles on a movie that you know you've all seen before, and you decide to let it slide this time because you know that dealing with a scared geto is worse than sitting through a rewatch.
you reach across gojo to turn off the floor lamp, effectively plunging the living room into near-darkness. the glow from the television is bright enough to highlight geto's uncertain expression, and you resist the urge to snicker as you lean forward to tug at his hair. he looks up at you in annoyance, rolling his eyes when you speak. "if you get too scared, you can just sit on gojo's lap, okay?"
a low snort leaves shoko's words at your comment, and geto shushes her as the movie begins to play. you quickly find yourself engrossed in the film, and you let yourself melt into the couch as the first scene plays. you make sure to stay aware of geto's reactions when you realize the first jump scare is coming up, and you're rewarded with a sharp jolt as geto does his best to hold in his gasp.
a swat to the calf is all you receive when he hears your quiet laugh, and you throw a glance at shoko in hopes of sharing an amused glance, only to stop when you notice her already looking at you. or rather, looking past you and directly at gojo.
you feel yourself stiffen as you force yourself to look back at the film, waiting for shoko so turn her attention back to the tv before glancing at gojo through your periphery. a soft sigh leaves your lips when you see him staring at you, and you waste no time before elbowing his side and subtly tilting your head towards the tv. you don't wait to see his reaction, but you do feel him shift in his seat, stretching his arm across the back of the couch before running his fingers over your shoulder lightly.
you shiver lightly at the contact, and you don't even have to spare gojo another glance to know he's back to staring at you. the next few minutes consist of the same few actions: gojo shamelessly stares at you, shoko shoots him suspicious glances, and you do your best to ignore the two of them while you watch the movie. it isn't until a phone goes off that the strange cycle finally gets broken.
"what was that?" geto asks, eyes wide and voice low as he pauses the movie. you shake your head, trying to suppress a smile at his reaction.
"my phone," shoko says, her eyes glinting with amusement. "the cookies are ready. c'mon, suguru."
"no, i'll help!" you say, jumping to your feet. you watch as shoko watches you with narrowed eyes, and can't help but sigh in relief when she merely shrugs and starts making her way into the kitchen. you pointedly ignore gojo's stare and geto's curious look, slipping into the next room just in time to see shoko pull a tray out of the oven.
"i wanna wait for them to cool down, but i also know how impatient those two are," shoko mutters, a hand on her hip as she looks down at the tray. you hold up a finger, skirting around her and rifling through one of geto's drawers before finding a spatula.
"we can just transfer them to a plate and take them back with us. besides, gojo likes them warm," you suggest, earning a nod from shoko. you trade places with her while she pulls out a plate, and you begin scooping the freshly baked cookies onto it as she leans on the counter next to you.
"so, gojo," shoko says offhandedly. "y'know, he's been staring all night."
"oh? has he?" you ask, mentally patting yourself on the back when your voice remains steady.
"yeah," she continues, watching as you place the last of the cookies on the plate before grabbing it. "just pay attention and you'll notice. it's kind of scary, if i'm being honest. if he kept looking at me with those eyes of his, i'd put in a complaint with yaga."
you can't help but giggle at her words, and you quickly wash the spatula and dry it before placing it back into the drawer. "i'll keep your words in mind."
shoko gives you a lazy smile before plucking the tray of cookies off the counter, already making her way back into the living room. "make sure to keep an eye out!"
"yeah, yeah, whatever," you grumble under your breath, following after her and taking your seat once again. you flinch when she plops the plate into your lap, but you're given no time to say anything before geto and gojo are digging into the cookies.
"they're still warm!" gojo exclaims, earning a soft smile from you. shoko watches you closely, making sure to give you a knowing look when you finally glance her way. she remains silent when geto starts playing the movie once again, only reaching for a cookie herself and curling back up on the couch cushion.
five minutes after resuming the movie, you feel gojo's knee bump against yours as he shifts in his spot, sinking lower in his seat and spreading his legs apart before leaning against the armrest on his side. you can feel shoko's prickly stare as you keep your own gaze focused on the tv, and you simply tuck your legs under you and refuse to acknowledge either one of them. it isn't long until you can feel gojo staring at you too, and you feel your face grow warmer due to all the attention.
by the time the movie ends, geto is the only one who can say he actually watched the film, and he wastes no time before leaping to his feet and letting out a groan as he stretches.
"well, i need a drink if we're going to continue with the horror movies," geto announces, turning the floor lamp back on. he leans over to snag the last cookie, breaking it in two before offering half to gojo.
"me too," shoko agrees, suppressing a yawn as she joins geto's side. "i could go for a drink."
"me three," you chime in, making a move to stand up only to be stopped by shoko.
"nah, stay here," she says smugly, placing a hand on your shoulder to keep you in place. "i'll get it for you."
"um, okay?" you respond hesitantly, watching as geto follows shoko into the kitchen. "thank you!"
"well, well, well," gojo says quietly, leaning in and drawing your attention back to him. "it seems like we're all alone."
"you're so stupid," you snort, gently pushing him away from you. he pouts at your action and you find yourself shaking your head fondly at his expression. "shoko's been noticing all the staring you've been doing."
"well can you blame me?" he asks, grabbing your hand and pulling you close. he lets his lips skim against your knuckles, and you roll your eyes when he finally presses a firm kiss to the back of your hand. "how can i not stare when i have the most beautiful art i've ever seen sitting right next to me?"
"you're so cheesy!" you hiss, ignoring the way your stomach lurches when he gently intertwines his fingers with yours.
"yeah but you love it," gojo responds haughtily.
"yeah, i do," you say softly. gojo's eyes soften at your words, and he leans forward slightly before pausing, hesitation clear on his face. you let go of his hand to cup his cheek, pulling him even closer as you run your thumb along his cheekbone. "c'mere."
gojo's lips meet yours eagerly, and you resist the urge to smile when you hear him hum happily. you scoot yourself closer to him, half on his lap as he tilts his head to the side in an attempt to deepen the kiss. you respond eagerly, giggling when his hands settle on your waist and pull you onto his lap entirely.
"i told you they were making out!"
the two of you pull away from each other when you hear shoko's voice, and you turn to give her a mildly annoyed look as she gives you a smug one in return. geto stands right behind her, lips pursed as he does his best to hold back a smile.
"yeah, we were," gojo mutters bitterly, giving shoko a dark look. "before you so rudely interrupted."
shoko only laughs at his words, and you don't have the chance to explain anything before gojo is pulling you into another kiss.
"you owe me five bucks, suguru!"
Tumblr media
reblogs are appreciated <3 ty for reading !!
3K notes · View notes
ecoamerica · 2 months
Text
youtube
Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared
The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!
16K notes · View notes
eddiernunson · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Nice to Meet You, Where You Been? | Eddie Munson x f!Reader | 18+
Thank you to @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you for editing, you're the best!
Summary: your college roommate takes you to the annual Harrington Halloween Party, where you expect to do nothing but get drunk and dance for a night. That was...until you turn around to the person dancing against you to Eddie fucking Munson.
Warnings: strangers to lovers, praise/degradation, hook-up at a party, daddy kink, creampie, no protection, slow ish build up, size kink? maybe?, hooking up under the influence
I had a whole ass plan to write for KinkTober but executive dysfunction took over. Hopefully this makes up for it...maybe.
I have another Halloween themed fic from last year, EddiexReader with Steve if anyone is interested
Word Count: 6.1k
-
You sit in the backseat of your roommate’s boyfriend’s beater, the music bumping through the stereo as you make your way to what is supposedly the biggest Halloween party of every year. Your roommate spent the beginning of your fall semester hyping up this party as the best place to be on a Halloween night. Her insistence was charming, and you were looking for an excuse to get drunk. So, now you are watching as you pass by Halloween decorations and children dressed in costumes going Trick-or-Treating.
You don't pay much attention to what they're saying, the gist of it reminiscing on the Halloween parties they had attended in the past. Your roommate had made it very clear from the start that this guy, whatever his name was, his Halloween parties were legendary in town. He has only been throwing them for a handful of years, but if you were a young adult in rural Hawkins on Halloween night, chances are you were at this party.
You start to wonder how big this guy’s house must be if a couple hundred people have been attending every year, and it sounded like he even encouraged it.
You can hear the music bumping from the house before you even see it. It's hard to miss, a cluster of cars in the neighborhood, several people walking up the lawn towards the wide-open door. Your roommate’s boyfriend parks down the street, a spot that is probably fine to park overnight due to the nature of the party.
If there is to be a single sober soul at this party, they would be a rare sight.
You tug at your costume as you walk behind the two of them, strutting arm in arm. They’re wearing a matching couple’s costume, as salt and pepper. It’s something they could come up with last minute, him wearing a black shirt for pepper and her a white dress for salt. Their costume is minimal, and certainly they’ll get asked frequently what they’re supposed to be, but when everyone’s intoxicated, you suppose it won’t matter much.
You’re dressed as your favorite iconic Batman villain, Poison Ivy. You loved the character from the DC comics as you grew up and having a year away from your parents and in a different town, you figured it might be a time to try a new daring costume. So here you walk, arms crossed in a small green dress with fake vines pinned across your chest. You opted for some dramatic green eyeshadow and bright red lips, hoping your makeup and costume will sell the look.
Your ears are nearly bursting as you cross the threshold to the front door of the massive house from the loud bumping music. The pop music is a bit obnoxious, but you’re sure you won’t care once some alcohol is in your system.
Your roommate seems to remember you exist, escaping her boyfriend’s arms for the moment and intertwining her arm around yours. She immediately guides you to the kitchen where stacks of red solo cups are sitting, surrounded by bottles of alcohol and soda. “Holy shit.” You mutter.
“I know.” She giggles, handing you a cup and some tequila.
“No thanks.” You push it back, knowing what exactly tequila does to you. “I’ll just do a vodka-sprite.”
As you’re pouring, in waddles a lanky dude with brown curled hair and freckles scattered on his pale skin.  “Oh hey, Mandy!” He greets her, stumbling as he toasts his cup. “Haven’t seen you in a while! How’s that boyfriend of yours?” He asks, spinning the lid of the alcohol he’s holding absentmindedly, causing it to flick off into the distance.  
“Nate’s good, I think he’s taking over your stereo, though.” She says, moving the bottles around to make Nate’s drink, as well.
“As per usual.” He laughs, pouring a large quantity of said tequila into his cup.
Mandy seems to realize something halfway through her sip. “Oh shit!” She sputters out, a drip of alcohol leaving her mouth. “Sorry, I forgot you two don’t know each other, yet. Y/N, this is Steve. Steve, Y/N.”
“Hi.” You greet him shyly, his confidence radiating, but very intimidating.
“Hello. Me casa e su casa, and whatever, whatever. Can I just ask, who are you supposed to be?” He asks you, gesturing to your costume.
“Oh, Poison Ivy.” You explain to him, sipping on your concoction and wincing when you realize you’ve poured way too much.
Steve blinks at you, seemingly trying to make sense of your costume. ���You’re—you’re a plant?”
You laugh, not in the mood to explain comic book villains to someone who clearly doesn’t know anything about them. “Yeah, sure.”
“Oh, cool!” Steve laughs, taking a big sip of his drink.
“Hey, Steve, you see much of Munson these days?” Mandy asks him, wiping her face from the excess drink surrounding her mouth.
How wonderful, more people you don’t know. Hawkins is the smallest town you’ve ever seen; everyone seems to know of everyone.
“Eddie? Yeah, he should be here tonight actually. Super dork, dressed as some character from Star Wars. Or at least I think it’s Star Wars.” He mutters, rolling his eyes in obvious affection for his friends. “He’s matching with Henderson and Wheeler.”
They shake their heads together in tandem at their supposedly dorky friends. As a Star Wars fan, however, you were fine, ecstatic even to hear that there were souls brave enough to dress up as dorky characters and that you weren’t the only one.
You follow Mandy into the living room, now bumping with a tape mix that Nate apparently brought to the party. It's a damn blast, everyone in the living room dancing surrounded by sweaty bodies, finally finding some joy as the strong drink makes you lose your inhibitions. As you continue dancing, suddenly you find yourself in a huddle of people, Mandy and Nate both dancing by you, but lost in their own drunken haze. You don’t care about that. However, something in your mind as you tell yourself you don’t care tells you to care about the person who’s been up against your back for God knows how long.
They have a good rhythm, and they weren’t all too touchy so nothing in your head raised any red flags. You turn around to face the stranger, and it’s like you forget how to breathe. One of his hands is placed on your hip, a smile on his face giving way to dimples that make you swoon. “Hi.” He greets you. You can’t quite hear it over the music, but you can certainly read his lips. Isn’t all that hard to decipher.
You smile back to him, letting a forearm rest on his shoulder. Who were you to deny such a pretty person? His wide smile expands even more, adding some pressure to your hip. The weight and size of his hand sends a thrill through you, and there’s a level of horniness that’s coming from you that you didn’t even know you could have.
Your drink is eventually finished, the cup dropped to the floor, forgetting to bother to throw it away. The gorgeous stranger pulls you in closer and closer as you continue to dance with him, his hands never dipping down past your waist, but you can tell by the steadiness of his grip that he knows how to use them. Usually, eye contact this intense would cause you to retract, looking away after that first glance. This eye contact only makes you want him more, his brown eyes exuding a type of lust you’ve never experienced before.
Or…were you just picturing this?
The hand that rested on your hip moves to frame your face, slender fingers brushing your cheek, caressing it for a half a moment. The hand moves down to hook under your chin, his thumb swiping across your bottom lip. His eyes very obviously stare at your lips, silently asking you for permission. When his tongue licks his bottom lip you nod eagerly, one hand moving to his black curls that you have been itching to touch as long as you’ve faced him.
Somehow, your ears muffle out the deafening music in favor of the chuckle that leaves his mouth. Before you could even register your heartbeat loud in your ears, he bends down to kiss you, and for the first time your brain computes how much taller he is than you. Any thought you might’ve had seems to evacuate the moment his soft lips meet yours. He kisses you with an expertise that makes you irrationally jealous of any other person who’s had the opportunity before you. He draws a sharp inhale as you deepen the kiss, offering more slobber and spit for him to wholeheartedly accept.
His hands tangle in your curled hair, thumbs caressing your face on either side. Something you're learning about this stranger is that he kisses with his whole body, and he knows how to do it well. His teeth graze against your bottom lip, tugging on it lightly. You whimper, shoving your tongue down his throat. A deep laugh escapes his throat as he meets your enthusiasm. He kisses the corner of your mouth, your cheek, and down to your collarbone. You barely sigh into it when his lips leave your collarbone, looking at you with remorse.
Uh oh. Not good. Were you the worst kisser and he was going to go find someone else worthy of his magical skills?
“Sorry, gotta piss. Beer’s hittin’ hard.” He shouts over the music, his thumb gesturing toward where you guessed the bathroom was.
“Ok. I’m gonna go get another drink.” You tell him, noting the red lipstick now all over his lips. “You got some uh…some lipstick there…hold on…” You reach out to wipe it for him, but he deflects, ducking from your thumb humorously.
“Uh…no thanks. I wear this shit with pride.” He explains, giving you a wink. “Meet you in the kitchen.”
You nod, suddenly full of nerves. You have been all over this guy for the last…however long, you couldn’t even tell. And now you’re realizing, he might be a decent dude on top of being a fantastic kisser.
Your legs carry you into the kitchen, running into Mandy and Nate. You weren’t sure where they’d been, having been lost in your own little world.
“Hi, babe!” She greets you, alcohol sharp on her breath. Whoa. She has had a lot more than you have. “I missed you, where the hell you been?”
You giggle, deciding to go for the tequila. After all, it was your literal liquid courage. And if you wanted to get that man’s fingers down your panties tonight, you were gonna need some. “Making out with the hottest guy I’ve ever seen in my life.” You proudly proclaim, taking a big sip of just straight tequila before adding some Sprite.
“Oh my god!” She squeals, letting go and forgetting about Nate’s existence. “Holy shit, I’m so fucking proud!” Speaking of him…he waltzes into the kitchen, grabbing a cup right by you and winking, apparently unseen by Mandy. “Shit, I’ve been looking for you!” She tells him, drunkenly tapping her hand on his bicep. “Hey, Y/N! This is Eddie. Remember? The dork Steve talked about earlier?”
Ouch. Mandy has no filter, as of course, she's drunk, but she didn’t have to be rude.
At least now you have a name for him. You were starting to feel bad. “Oh, I’m acquainted.” You tell her, sharing a smirk with Eddie.
“Seriously? Cool.” Mandy answers, not getting the hint. You gesture with your eyes alone to Mandy that Eddie was the guy you were talking about just a few moments ago. She gets it, but apparently forgets all about subtlety. “Wait, Eddie Munson is the hottest guy you’ve ever seen in your life?” She asks you incredulously, like it's the most unbelievable thing she's ever heard.
“Thanks, Mandy.” You grit out, teeth clenched.
“Oops.” She grimaces, grabbing Nate's hand. “We’re gonna go find a spot on the couch to make out. Sorry!”
You roll your eyes affectionately, knowing she meant no harm. Did she have to say it, though?
The smirk on Eddie’s face says everything without saying a word. “So, the hottest guy you’ve ever seen, huh?” He asks, looking incredibly proud of the fact.
You knock your tequila back, needing more liquid courage. “Yep. Hottest.”
His eyebrow raises, and he takes a big sip of his own drink. Maybe he needs his own courage. “Well, you’re probably the sexiest damn Poison Ivy I’ve ever seen.” He smirks, leering at you. His eyes blatantly rake up and down your body, giving you a surge in confidence. “You’re like a little sexy nugget of weed.” He laughs, his words slightly slurred.
“Wait, you get that I’m Poison Ivy?” You ask, finally assessing his costume. Oh, he’s Vader without the mask. “I mean I guess you are the dork they talked about earlier.” Eddie seems slightly sunken by this. “Don’t worry,” you tell him theatrically. “I’m a massive dork, myself.”
He perks up, pulling you in by the waist. “What do you say we find a room upstairs?” He asks, taking another big sip of his drink.
You raise your cup back to your lips, knocking the remainder down fast. “I say, lead the way.”
He grabs you by the hand and leads you up the stairs, pushing some people out of the way that were blocking it in the middle of a conversation. As he leads you down the hall, the music somewhat fades out and you can hear him muttering under his breath. “We better find a guest room cause I’m not hooking up in Harrington’s room, and I’ll be damned if I hook up in his parents' room.”
From that, you’re able to assess that he’s over here enough to know which room belongs to whom. He knocks on one of the doors, swearing softly when someone shouts out. He does it twice more, meeting the same result. “Ok.” He sighs, fingers crossed. He knocks twice, no answer. He knocks once more for good measure, and it can be said that there is definitely no one inside. “Thank fuck.”
As soon as you’re through the door he turns the dimmer switches on lightly and locks the door. You take off the vines, letting the pins and fake plants fall to the floor to make it easier for him to climb on you.
He watches you from the four postered bed, still head to toe in what you now noticed was the caped costume that Darth Vader wears. “So, we don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with, by the way. If you wanna do hand stuff, we’ll do hand stuff.”
Your gut swoops at his consideration and empathy. He seems to truly care about your comfortability rather than him getting off. You walk to him, swiping off all accessories you wore, including your shoes. You straddle his lap, pushing on him lightly so he falls back onto the bed. You attack his lips with your own, attempting to show how much his consideration for you already has you soaked. “I will do” you whisper in between a handful of kisses, “anything you want me to,” you tell him, starting to grind the tent you feel poking past your dress. “Within reason.” You add for good measure, not quite that down for anything. But if he wants to fuck you, you’re down. You’re so down. You’re so down bad.
“Fuck…do that again.” He asks, holding your hips. You comply, grinding your wet heat against him, teasing yourself, but loving the expression on his face. It's ethereal. “Fuck, baby. You barely touched me, and you already have me falling apart.”
This makes you smile with pride. A huff of laughter escapes your lips, sighing deeply as you can feel his erection growing. The fact that this man is as hard as he is when he’s this good looking is the biggest compliment in the world. You wrap his lips in a kiss again, your tongue peeking out to lick across his lip, managing to tug yet another moan out of him. You relish in the tone, the whimper that follows right after it. He really isn’t afraid to tell you how much he is enjoying what the two of you are doing.
As you continue to explore his tequila-scented mouth, both of his hands cup your ass, feeling his limber fingers bunch up the fabric of the bright green dress you’re wearing. He takes his time, giving you every minute to communicate any second thoughts. You moan impatiently, encouraging him to get under there already.
He chuckles, pulling the rest of the material up swiftly. His fingers grab at the skin of your barely covered ass cheeks roughly, the friction burning in the best way. A whimper escapes your throat, your mouth filling with the taste of him as your tongues meet. You’re sure he’s gripping those cheeks hard enough to bruise, not that you mind.
An increasing need has been growing since you first laid eyes on him, the need for him to touch you in the most sinful of ways. While his touch on your ass is electric, you are ready for much more. Your whimpers echo the thought, feeling needy for more of his touch, your hip movements going from fluid and purposeful to rigid and needy.
“What do you need, hmm?” He asks in-between kisses, one hand pushing up your dress to your waist as it caresses your bare hip. “Use your words, beautiful.”
“Need you to touch me,” the thought leaves your lips without your permission. How dare your brain betray you like that?
Eddie starts to kiss at your jaw, switching between nibbles and his tongue deliciously lapping at the skin. “Like how?” He asks in intervals, his voice soft, yet demanding. “Like this?” He grabs harshly at your ass, nails digging into the soft flesh. “Like this?” He asks again, tingles radiating down your skin as he lightly grazes your hip bone. “Or…like this?” His hand that rested on your hip bone flutters down to where heat radiates off your core, getting a feel of your soaked panties. “Oh my god, you’re so fucking wet.” He mutters, putting some pressure at the top of your mound.
Your hips start desperately grinding against his fingers, needing him to touch you. “Can you blame me?” You ask him, breath stuttering through it.
“Are you trying to flatter me?” He asks, pausing his pressure momentarily and backing off to study you. You stutter through an empty response, and he laughs kindly. “Cause flattery works, sweetheart.” His fingers move past the cotton barrier he's been making small circles against, delicately tracing along the wetness of your folds. You’re so slick, it’s like a damn slip and slide. The moment his fingers make contact with you, they’re soaked and in your juices.
“Oh shit—” you stutter, grinding on him helplessly. You can barely focus, your arms weak as you’re suddenly unable to hold your weight as you collapse on him. He's not touching you purposely, but just the feel of him sends a ripple down your spine. “Feels good.”
“Hmm.” He answers, noting the way you’re writhing so beautifully on top of him. He knew he would have you in a mess. In fact, he looked forward to it from the moment he saw you. He meticulously moves you onto your back, taking in your wide-eyed stare with a smirk. “Gonna take these off.” He mutters, fingers moving to the waistband of your panties. “Need a good look at you.”
You’re not entirely sure what he means until you see the look on his face as he stares at your pussy for the first time. His darkened stare, the slack smile he wears as he stares at you. Well not you, just the most vulnerable part of you. You’ve had a bit of experience in high school, but no one ever looked at your pussy like this. Like…it’s…
“Beautiful.” Eddie whispers, licking his lips. You watch him as he takes you in, admiring how wanted he makes you feel. Without a warning he lurches forward in between your legs, his tongue licking one long strip up your slick. Your thighs convulse, the pleasure so red hot, you can’t control the choked-out moan that escapes your lips if you tried. “Oh, you’re shaking, baby.”
His tongue moves more purposely to your clit, sucking on it and tapping with his tongue repeatedly. Your thighs clamp around his face, tensing up as every goddamn nerve is set on fire. You feel a slight huff of laughter against your puffy clit, the breath tickling you, causing you to giggle from the sensation. The giggle leads into a whimper, the small movements of his tongue sending you into overdrive. “Feels so—oh my god—I—” You stutter, unable to finish a single sentence.
He tugs your legs, forcing your knees against your chest to get even closer. A fierce heat starts in your stomach, startling the hell out of you. A great build slowly moves you, pushing you step by step over a high you’ve never reached before. Your stomach has never coiled so tightly, the heat never so intense. “Too much, too much.”
“You’re almost there, sweetheart.” He encourages you, watching every muscle in your legs tighten and feeling your abdomen tighten and release. “Oh, it’s gonna feel so good, baby. Wanna see you cum for me, see you fall apart, hear that pretty little mouth make the prettiest noises.”
Eddie slips a finger in, pumping it slowly at first, building up the speed quickly as he continues sucking. There’s something in you telling you to be embarrassed at how quickly your orgasm has snuck up on you, but from the foreplay of his expert lips and the mind-numbing words, it only makes sense.
“Cl-close…” You manage out, the heat making your way through your body, even making a stop in your head.
“Let me see you come apart, sweetheart.” He tells you, working his fingers at an unmatched rate.
The sensation sends you over the edge, your extremities shaking uncontrollably. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, a near primal moan leaves your mouth, a sound you didn’t even know you had the capability of making.
It takes you a minute to recover, Eddie working you through your whole orgasm and gently kissing your thighs until you come back to. He’s patient, waiting until your breathing slows down, kissing his way up your half-dressed torso. Eddie rests his body on yours, the tent in his pants meeting the heat of your center as his forearms support his weight on either side of your head. His thumbs sway at your temple, slowly watching as your eyes lose their glaze.
Your vision finally focuses back on him, his soft smile on his face welcoming as he watches you. His legs tense up, his muscles spasming as he resists thrusting into your heat. It’s teasing you, your hips accidentally moving upwards to meet the now wet stain on his polyester costume. “You’re wearing too much.” You tell him, whining softly.
“I’m sorry, should I take these off?” He asks, kissing you rapidly on the face right after. “Or if you’re done, I don’t blame you.”
“Done?” You ask incredulously. “Oh no, I’m not even close to done.” You tell him, giggling when he gives you a smirk.
“Just checking, sweetheart.” Eddie replies, kissing you rapidly again.
You’re finally back on earth, your hands reaching around him to look for where his costume opens. You had a feeling it would open from the back. You pull each Velcro apart one by one, your hands telling you as you move down that he’s not wearing anything underneath. You don't know if it's odd or the hottest thing in the world. Both, definitely both.
Your nails scratch at his skin at the last one, finally taking the shoulders off. You gasp as he helps you take out each arm awkwardly, only because you could finally see all the tattoos that his costume has covered up. “Holy shit.” You mutter, hands reaching out to palm at each one.
As he mouths at your neck, you push the rest of his costume down, figuring out it was a one piece. Ok. Steve might’ve been right about calling him a dork. But with his cunnilingus skills, who fucking cares? “You wanna fuck?” He asks, making his way down your neck, one hickey at a time.
You wrap your legs around his waist, tugging him down so the thin fabric meets your soaked pussy even harder. “Please?”
“When you ask so nicely, how could I deny?” He answers, leaving one last final nibble on your shoulder. He gets up without a warning, and you whine pathetically. “Jus’ takin off my pants sweetheart. Can’t put my dick in you if it’s still covered.”
You watch him pull down his pants, teasing you as it makes its way down his torso, his treasure trail, the v-line, you start drooling the moment his cock pops out. You figured he was big from his bulge pressed against you, but the material was apparently holding him back from his true length. You spend a good minute staring at it, how pink the head is, how thick he looks, it made you nearly feral.
“Enjoying the show?” Eddie asks. You glance back up at his face, heating up when you realize you've stared a lot longer than planned.
“Mmmhmm.” You tell him, not seeing any need to deny.
He lurches forward onto the bed, yanking giggles out of you. His hands roughly move up your torso to take your dress off, moving it over your head. He throws it over his shoulder, eyes raking in your tits like they’re in the Louvre. Hell, he’d take a polaroid and hang it there, despite the risk of security arresting and escorting him out immediately after.
“You are fucking gorgeous, baby.” He mutters, leaning into one of your tits mouthing at the nipple delicately, grazing it with his teeth, turning the mound into a shade of purple.
You can’t help yourself, reaching down to grab his cock. “Need you in me.” You urge him, smiling when he lets out a surprised whimper.
“Fucking—” he stutters out, biting on his lip. “Yeah, yeah, okay. I can do that.” He laughs, and before you have a moment to admire how adorable that was, you feel him line himself up. “Shit, you’re fucking tight.”
You can feel exactly what he means, the head barely pushing in. Even with how wet you are, Eddie's having difficulty pushing into you. Your mouth drops open, panting through it at the blinding pain and pleasure. He pauses, giving you a moment to adjust. “Feels so goddamn good, Ed.” You gasp, blindly reaching for him.
Blindly, because your eyes are unable to stay open from the sheer pleasure that has taken over your body.
“I know, baby I know.” He whispers, holding one hand to your face.
“Ok.”
He pushes in more, eliciting a high-pitched whine out of you. “You have any idea how fucking hot those little noises that you make are?” He asks, his voice husky and strained.
You laugh at his successful attempt at flattery, causing him to whine at the way your pussy tightens around him in sync. “Keep going.”
He pushes in a little bit more, your legs tensing around his torso as the noise caught in your throat is even louder. “You’re taking me so well, baby, what a good girl.” You tighten up at his praise, provoking Eddie to get the idea that praise is something that you desire. “Oh, you liked that, didn’t you, my good girl?” You tighten around him again, Eddie twitching in you as a response.
“More.” You manage out, your voice guttural. He pushes in just a little bit more. “Oh my god, you’re in my fucking stomach, so fucking deep!” You whine, eyes closed as you pulse around him.
“Just a little bit more, baby. You’re doing so well, such a good girl.”
“More.”
He pushes the rest of his cock in, finally able to rest his body on yours. You take your time adjusting to his size, inhaling, and exhaling with purpose as the pain subsides. “That’s a girl, take your time.” He mutters, watching you carefully.
“Kiss me please.” You whisper, opening your eyes to face the intensity radiating from his chocolate brown ones. He leans in for a lush kiss, your legs wrapping around him to pull him in tightly. His hand moves to your tit, playing with the nipple between two of his fingers. Your tongues meet, somehow knowing exactly what the other needs. “You can move now.” You whisper in between kisses.
Eddie, apparently a master at multitasking, lifts his hips without so much as stuttering in the kiss. You expected him to stop, but the new mix of sensation throws you off intensely. His first thrust causes you to shout directly into his mouth. You’re much more prepared for the second thrust, however unprepared for the force behind it. “Yeah?” He asks, pulling back and staring into your eyes.
You nod enthusiastically. “So good. Cock feels…so good.” You whine to him, legs unable to continue holding onto him as tight as they were. Now they’re floating in the air aimlessly, unable to focus on much except for how good and how deep he is. “How…this good?” The question you meant to ask was how he was so good at fucking like this, but your mouth was unable to form a single coherent sentence.
“Barely been in you for a minute, and you’re already cock-drunk, huh?” He borderline mocks you, fucking you faster with each thrust.
You grunt in response, fully accepting the label of cock drunk. “So…good, Eddie!” It’s just…fucking true, which is the only rational thought in your brain for the moment. Others are So Hot, and Big Ass Cock, and finally, Gorgeous fucking body.
“Your pretty pussy is so tight, baby, bein’ such a good girl for me.” Eddie sits up, pulling your ass down to where he can fuck you in a better position where he can hit your g-spot. He rests a hand sideways on your lower tummy, putting slight pressure on it. This sends a blinding hot pleasure into you as he repeatedly hits that spot.
“F-fuck, get-getting cl-close…” you stutter, feeling your tits bounce at the sheer force he's fucking you with.
“This is fucking embarrassing, but so am I, baby.” He mutters, starting to go at a faster rate, which you would've deemed impossible a few seconds ago. “Your pussy is so fucking good, can’t fuckin’ help myself.”
You half giggle, half moan at the flattery, not minding for one moment that he would cum so quickly. After all, he spent the first half paying most of his attention to you, so you understand if he's been pent up. While that is the reality of why, you can’t help but feel like hot shit for making someone as fantastic as Eddie cum so fast. His stamina and willingness to give on top of how gorgeous he is does nothing but boost your ego.
“Cum with me.” You beg him, also on the edge. “Cum in me.”
“Oh my god—” you make his hips stutter, and you smile with pride. “You sure, baby?” He asks, trying to make sure he covers his tracks.
“Cum in me, please, daddy!” It leaves your mouth before you’re unable to stop it, the daddy kink not quite something you break out on the first fuck most of the time.
Eddie, however, is a different breed. He meets the unexpected outburst with a growl, and you swear his cock twitches inside of you. “Of course, baby girl, whatever you want.” He grunts out. “Daddy is gonna fill you the fuck up.” He lurches forward so he’s skin on skin with you again so he can whisper in your ear. “When we go back downstairs, I’m gonna keep your panties, and you're gonna dance with my cum dripping down your fucking legs.” You tighten up around him, telling Eddie this is exactly what you wanted from him. The sweet mixture of praise and degradation makes your head spin with need. “You like that, huh? Of course, you’d like that you fucking slut.” His hips rut harshly against yours and at a stupid crazy speed. “If I catch you trying to clean yourself up, you’re gonna fucking hear about it, got it?”
You nod, entirely thrilled about this.
“Didn’t fuckin hear you, slut.”
“Got it, daddy.” You answer, right on the edge.
“You gonna cum with me, baby girl?” He asks, his voice strained.
“Mmhmm. Waiting for you.”
“Good fucking girl. I’m so close…fuck…gonna—” Eddie is interrupted by his own orgasm, which sends you over the edge with him. It’s not as intense as your last one, so you’re able to pay extra attention to the look on his face. His mouth half open, a deep moan leaving his throat.  Oh god, you’ll definitely be remembering this next time it’s only you and your imagination.
He collapses on you, his chest and forehead covered in sweat. The only sound in the air is you and Eddie catching your breath together. Your breath is finally back in your lungs, but your heart is still racing against his chest. He suddenly sits himself back on his forearms, petting at your forehead and hair gently. “Fuck, please go out with me on Saturday.” He whispers, quietly assessing the expression you wear on your face.
“Huh?” You ask him, unsure you heard him correctly.
“Go out with me on Saturday. Please, I can’t fuck a pussy this good and not take you out on a hot date.” He mutters softly, placing the gentlest of kisses on your lips.
“If you think I’m letting you go after this, you’re fucking insane.” You whisper back, framing his face to grab it for another lush kiss.
Eddie sighs, petting your hair. “Thank fucking god.” He pulls out of you, tugging a whimper out of you. He gives one last kiss, before moving down your torso. You almost ask what he was doing, when you feel two of his fingers push inside you quickly.
Your head jerks up, wondering what in the ever-living hell he's doing.
“Just helping by pushing the cum back in you, baby. Wanted to give you at least a fighting chance before it starts dripping down these stunning thighs of yours.” He places a wet kiss on your thigh, one last quiver radiating through it. “You good to stand up?”
“Hope so.” You laugh, scooching your ass down the plain comforter. Eddie tosses you your dress and gets dressed back into his cheap costume himself.
You assess Eddie, fixing his hair so he doesn’t look so disheveled. “You realize my lipstick is all over your neck and face, right?” You ask him, assessing him in all his post-nut glory. How the fuck is anyone this hot?
“Didn't I tell you earlier that I'm gonna wear this shit with pride, darlin?” He asks you, giving you a smile that makes you melt. “Wanna go downstairs and make-out on Steve's dad’s stupid chair?”
“If we make out I might wanna blow you.” You admit, the effects of the alcohol and the level of his hotness has still completely taken over your brain.
Eddie groans, and you swear his pupils dilate. “Fuck, I’ll take you into the nearest hallway closet if that happens, then you can get on your knees and suck my cock off like a good girl. You just tell me, yeah?”
You giggle as he opens the door and you nod enthusiastically, pretty much already in your head that hooking up with Eddie is nowhere near done.
When you reach the bottom of the steps, Eddie tugs on your hand straight to the leather chair in the corner, having you sit across his lap as his tongue makes its way down your throat again.
Eventually, after a mere ten minutes of teasing, Eddie has to lead you to a hallway closet, where yes, you worship him on your knees with his treasure trail meeting your nose.
That was the best fucking Halloween, ever.
-
Thank you so much for reading! I love to read your comments, replies, and reblogs. As always, reblogging is the best way to support your fic writers on tumblr.
Taglist: @pinkcowracing @yourthebrokengirl @skrzydlak @thirddeadlysin @sammararaven @bebe07011 @prettylovley @josephquinnschesthair @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you @names-were-taken @oddussy420
2K notes · View notes
lxkeee · 4 months
Note
Hi, could I request a Lucifer morningstar x darkness demon overlord reader? She lurks in the shadows like a boogeyman, she acts like morticia adams from the adams family, how would he meet or act around the gothic queen👁👁✨
LUCIFER X OVERLORD! FEM! READER
Part two
Tumblr media
Lucifer was just wandering around hell, unknowingly entering a territory of an overlord.
He doesn't know okay? It's just a forest of dead wilted trees with ominous aura.
His first instinct is to investigate.
This is his first time coming here, he only discovered this area after flying by to return to the palace.
Lucifer was walking around the dense forest, with his guard up.
The forest was quiet. A little too quiet.
He isn't afraid, unfortunately. He knows he can kill any demon who would try to mess with him.
Crack. A twig snapped
His head whipped to the direction of the noise, “Who goes there? Show yourself!” he threatens, wings in full display.
Shadows moving around him and finally stopping in front of him, morphing into a figure.
Lucifer expected a lot of things, but this.
A very tall and gorgeous woman, large deer antlers on her head. Sultry eyes and a smirk on her face.
Oh fuck, she's beautiful. Dangerous. He can sense the power she has.
“Good evening your highness, I didn't expect to see you here wandering around my home.” the woman says with a chuckle, making the man become a little flustered.
“Your home...?” he asked hesitantly and the woman nodded.
“Yes, this is my home or rather my territory. My home is somewhere around here. I just sensed a presence around these grounds and decided to check. I didn't expect to see the king of hell to be here.”
“M-my apologies, my lady. I simply didn't know.” he stammers a bit. Ah, calm yourself Lucifer. You're more powerful so you shouldn't be intimidated, he says to himself internally.
“It is alright, if you don't mind. Do you want to join me for a cup of tea? I just so happen to have finished brewing some.”
Lucifer is cautious around sinners, especially her. He doesn't know why his heart is palpitating this much. The best reason he got is fear loud incorrect buzzer noise
“I don't want to intrud—”
“Nonsense! You're not intruding.”
“But—”
“Do not fret, I am not going to hurt you. I should be the scared one as you are much more powerful than me. I am sure you can obliterate my existence with a flick of your finger.” the woman laughs softly, a kind of laugh that reminds him of the books he's read. The kind of laugh that draws you in.
“How about this, how about we get acquainted with each other? So that you'll be more comfortable?”
Lucifer's eyes narrowed, “Why are you so insistent?”
“Well, I just love making friends and you my dear seem to be an interesting character that I don't mind befriending.”
Lucifer rolls his eyes but eventually nodded, “Fine, My name is Lucifer Morningstar.”
“Wonderful, then... It's a pleasure to meet you Mr. Lucifer, my name is [y/n]” She says before gently holding his hand and placing a small kiss on his knuckles.
With a smirk on her face as her eyes looked at him as she did so.
Lucifer's cheeks reddened, quickly snatching his hand away from the demoness.
“So, about that tea?”
Lucifer is beginning to see a pattern.
A type even.
It's been a few months since he's met the deer demoness.
Surprisingly he managed to get along with her, despite her... Rather questionable actions.
He often visits her mansion at the middle of the forest where he met her or the other way around.
She often surprises him by popping out of the shadows with her presence concealed.
She's playful, mysterious, dangerous, beautiful.
And tall.
He likes his women tall okay?
And he likes them a little deranged.
Anyways.
She keeps teasing him.
Just like the other day, he came to visit at the wrong time and she forced him to help her get dressed.
It was inappropriate! She only asked him to zip the zipper of her dress.
Poor guy was blushing.
She didn't make fun of his obsession with rubber ducks.
She even made ducks out of shadows and made it swim around his room and of course, he made one too with his powers.
The shadows and gold dust ducks swimming around the room and in the air.
It was... Cute...
Lucifer has gotten to know the woman better too, he has gotten the chance to see many sides of her.
Lucifer isn't stupid, he can tell he's developing feelings for her.
He's afraid, he's afraid of getting hurt again or hurting her.
He has issues he needed to fix first.
Though, he is slightly a flustered mess around the woman.
Can you blame him? She calls him endearing nicknames! She calls him sweetheart and it just makes his heart flutter.
He is cautious around her not because he's afraid of her but because he fears his feelings for her would accidentally be known.
And she just appears out of nowhere!
It took awhile for him to sort his emotions and he thinks he is finally ready to confess.
But first, Lucifer needs to find hints if she feels the same way.
“Thanks for the coffee, [y/n]. It tastes amazing as always.” Lucifer says, admiring the duck shaped cream that is floating on his coffee.
“It is a pleasure, sweetheart. Drink to your heart's content. I know you've been stressed lately.” She says with a gentle voice.
“I have a question.” he started, already planning a discreet way to ask her.
“Hmm? Go ahead.”
“What if let's say... You have a close friend and you've only known him for a couple of months but they fell in love with you and now they're planning to confess to you? Would you date him?”
Don't mind him guys, he's trying his best.
[y/n] tilts her head slightly, confused before giggling.
She's not stupid but she kinda wants to tease him.
“Depending on who this friend is.”
“Just answer.” he deadpans.
“Yes, would you confess though?” she asked as she leans forward to reach him across the table, holding his chin. Lips just a few inches away from each other.
Lucifer.exe has stopped working.
“Y-yes...” he stammers, beginning to feel shy as his cheeks heat up.
“Do you want a kiss?” she asked teasingly.
“Please...?”
“Good boy.” she says before finally pressing her lips against his.
It was the most addicting kiss he ever experienced.
“I like you.”
“I like me too.”
“[y/n]!”
“I am just joking, I like you too.”
Tumblr media
1K notes · View notes
incognit0slut · 1 year
Text
Buried in the pillow
Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Tumblr media
A night of restless sleep ends better than expected. Based on;
warning: 18+ explicit content including edging, a little chocking, sexual intercourse, and dom spence
words: 4,6k (I got carried away😭)
a/n: am I supposed to be writing something else? Yes. Will it stop me from writing a slow, lazy sex scene? NO
MASTERLIST
Tumblr media
“…you’re buried in the pillow, yeah you’re so loud…”
THERE WAS NO DENYING THE WARM FLOOD OF AROUSAL RUSHING IN HER SYSTEM. Y/n inhaled a sharp breath, her heart rate climbing in her chest she could feel her pulse throbbing through her entire body. She readjusted herself along her pillow and closed her eyes before exhaling, her thighs pressed together as she tried not to let her mind travel into any lewd thoughts.
But the sound of his shallow breathing was enough to make her terribly aware of the abrupt shift in her body. She could feel the dull, needy throb between her legs merging with that burn of sheer want for him low in her stomach. Her eyes fluttered open then, and there he was, sleeping on his side of the bed with his face facing toward her.
Spencer looked so peaceful. His eyes were closed, lashes brushing along his cheeks, and his mouth slightly parted while his chest rose in a steady rhythm, a sign of him in complete slumber. She had seen the drowsiness in his eyes the moment he walked through the door this evening, the fatigue clumped in his shoulders as he kissed her in greeting. It had been days since the last time he had proper sleep, having to travel across the country for a recent case, and today he finally had the chance to rest his bones from all of the work.
But it also meant it had been eleven days, fifteen hours, and forty-six minutes since the last time she had him buried deep inside her...
Not that she was counting.
Fine—maybe she was. Maybe she was keeping up with their time apart because being with him was something she looked forward to, in and out of the bedroom. How could she not? He was her partner; her smart, caring boyfriend who she loved too damn much and would do anything to bide the time relishing in his presence.
Although tonight she did have a specific activity in mind, which now seemed more like wishful thinking considering he was already deep in slumber. He needed the sleep, she reminded herself. He was simply tired and he needed all the rest he could get.
Swallowing hard, Y/n tried to push her desire back down. She turned over, laid back down on her back, and let her eyelids fall back down as she settled her arms to her side. But the position was too uncomfortable. She let out a groan and shifted again, hips moving along the bed a few times before she finally stopped.
The feel of something shifting woke Spencer up, his mind slowly stirring awake. A soft sigh escaped him as he lay silently, his mind quieted in the stillness of the night. Then his breathing evened out a moment later, exhaustion of the past few days took over before his eyelids lowered, body drifting back to sleep. Except for a little bit later, he heard more rustling along the pillow, a soft, feminine sound of frustration barely ringing in his ears. This time he slowly opened his eyes, adjusting himself in the dark.
The first thing he noticed was a mass of hair laid in front of him, then bare arms and a slender body clad in a silky nightgown. There was silence as he tried to pick up her breathing, watching her back move steadily in the poorly lit room. When another exasperated sigh escaped her, Spencer inched closer and reached out, an arm wrapping around her waist as he pulled her closer toward him.
"Hey," he softly murmured, concerned about her constant movements in her sleep. "You alright?"
Y/n stopped herself from letting out a moan. On normal occasions, being pressed up against him in bed would lull her to sleep, the comfort of his arms provided an immense amount of warmth and safety. Definitely not tonight. The way his arm tightened around her, tugging her back into his solid chest awoken that part of her she tried to suppress. The heat of his body enveloped her and she found herself leaning back, accepting the warmth he was offering.
"Hmm," her returning hum answered, sinking deeper into his embrace.
"Bad dream?"
She stopped herself from snorting. She couldn't even get a wink of sleep and here he was, concerned about the possibility of her having nightmares. But it was a better reason than to admit why she couldn't rest her eyes, so she nodded, her voice slightly breathless as she whispered, "Something like that."
The silence in the air after her reply was jarring. If Spencer was half-awake before, he was fully awake now, the rasp in her voice far too familiar for him to ignore. And when he finally regained his consciousness back, he became highly aware of his surroundings. The soft mattress underneath him, the plush pillow below his head, and the soft curves pressed against him.
He could feel her body trembling underneath his palm, her breathing picking up its pace as his fingers glided along her stomach. He could practically hear the sound of her heartbeat as he pulled her even closer, his head shifting along her shoulder, his nose brushing against the back of her neck. The subtle fragrance of flowers and honey filled his nostrils as he breathed in her scent, nuzzling further into her, the stubble of his jaw grazing along her skin.
"Spence," she muttered, tilting her head into the pillow. "What are you doing?"
"You seem to be having trouble sleeping." She felt the bed shift behind her as he moved again, and then a moment later she felt him pressing his hips into her ass. She let out a gasp. "I'm helping you relax."
She felt something pleasantly warm grazing her neck, his lips moving deliberately slow, as if he was in no hurry and only wanted to savor the taste of her skin. His hand then slid further up her stomach, palm flat as it dragged up her body, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. It eventually stopped its roam, halting its search when he cupped her left breast tenderly.
She couldn't stop the strained moan from slipping out of her mouth. "Sleep isn't exactly on my mind right now."
"I figured," he murmured beside her ear, his hot breath drawing goosebumps along her skin. "How long have you been awake?"
His hand gently kneaded her breast as his mouth traveled along her neck. Her eyelids lowered slightly, a wet heat forming between her thighs as her arousal intensified. "I haven't slept."
"And why is that?" A finger brushed across her nipple through her thin nightgown. She suppressed a helpless whimper as his thumb circled around the nub, caressing it so gently she could feel her body shaking with need. "Go on." He tugged on her nipple between his fingers. "Use your words."
"I..." She felt his tongue softly grazing her skin before he wrapped his mouth around her flesh, sucking on the spot. What was she to say? That she was too aroused to relax? She carefully weighed her words, feeling bashful verbalizing her thoughts, so she finally settled with, "It was too hot."
He hummed in response, somehow acknowledging the meaning behind her words. She watched as his hand left her breast, sliding up her bare arm before it settled on the strap of her flimsy sleepwear. He gently tugged down the thin string as his mouth lowered towards her shoulder, languorously trailing kisses down the line of it. "We should do something about that, shouldn't we?"
She couldn't think clearly when his touch sent her into a whirlwind of chaos. To crave something was one thing, to actually acquire that craving was an entirely different thing. She had wanted to feel him so much, but as his hand trailed back to her now-exposed breast, her mind was in a mess of desperate longing and need. Somehow his mouth trailing on her neck wasn't enough. Somehow his callused fingers stroking her nipple wasn't enough. She needed to feel every inch of his body on her. She wanted all of him.
More, more, more.
"Spence," she breathed out, her hoarse voice hanging in the air.
A ghost of a smile played on his lips. "Tell me." His grip on her nipple tightened, and she shuddered at the sensation. "Tell me what you want."
"You," she answered in a daze. "I want you."
"What do you want me to do?" He gently bit her flesh. "Do you want me to make you feel good? Do you want me to touch you, relax the tension in your body?" Then her heart sped up in her chest, slamming roughly into her rib cage at his next words.
"Do you want me to fuck you to sleep?"
A strangled whimper left her mouth. Spencer was a lot of things in bed. When they had first been together, he was so timid and unsure of himself, too caught up in his thoughts that left him too afraid to touch her—which she honestly hadn't minded, she loved being the one who saw his transformation in the bedroom. But when he finally started to loosen up and be himself with her, exploring things he wanted to try, to finally take control? It drove her absolutely wild to experience him gain his confidence it made her weak in the knees every damn time.
Like this side of him now always managed to render her speechless. Perhaps it was the way he was so poised and calm outside the bedroom, a very different demeanor when he was alone with her, that made it all seem so overwhelming. In the safety of their bedroom, he was everything he desired, and being crude and demanding was what he decided to be this night.
His hand caressing her nipple slid up her chest, his fingers gently wrapping around the base of her neck. Her breath hitched as he softly gripped it, pulling her even further into his chest. "Tell me, is that what you want?"
She was breathing even heavier now, her shoulders heaving with each audible inhale. "Yes."
He bit her earlobe, evoking another breathless shudder out of her. "Explain it in words, I need you to speak to me."
Y/n enjoyed the sweet, gentle way he made love to her. She really did. Very, very much so. But there was a certain enjoyment whenever he was in control. Whenever he let himself go and have his way with her—crass words over sweet nothings, rough stokes over soft touches. It burned her skin and gripped onto her arousal, waking up the submissive side of her which she enjoyed more than she should probably have.
Spencer's grip tightened at her silence. "Are you not going to answer me?"
"Yes," she quickly responded, feeling the subtle bulge of him pressed along her backside. "Please."
"Please... what?"
She couldn't believe he was making her say it. Y/n inhaled a sharp breath and leaned into his touch, practically shifting the weight of her body on top of him. "Spence."
"I need to hear the words or you won't get anything at all," he spoke, his thumb grazing her chin.
The thought of being left sexually frustrated was enough for her to nod, giving in to his command. "Yes," she whispered, and because she wanted to make him feel as desperate as she was, she squirmed, hips writhing along his groin as she searched for friction. "I want you to fuck me to sleep."
A pleased rumble vibrated in his throat. Letting go of her neck, his hand trailed down her body and landed on the top of her thigh, gently massaging the muscle beneath his palm. His fingers skimmed up toward her skin, pushing up her nightgown, exposing more delicate skin and skimpy underwear barely covering her ass. Then it happened so fast. One moment he was caressing her, the next thing she knew his hand drew back before it came barreling forward with a sharp smack that echoed in the room. She gasped in pleasant surprise, her clit throbbing in excitement as his palm rubbed along the stinging flesh.
"You liked that, didn't you?"
She whimpered in response. Then his hand retreated from her ass only to come flying forward again with another sharp crack. Her hips jolted forward at the impact, her eyes closing at the delicious sting as his hand held onto her her stomach. His fingers then slowly trailed south and her breath hitched in her throat as she felt his lips hot on her ear.
"Open your legs, sweetheart."
Her knees fell apart at the demand, one of her legs laying on top of his. She waited for him to touch her, to dip his hand into her aching folds in the confinement of her underwear. Instead, his fingers slipped into the side of her fabric, tugging the material to the side, exposing wet, damp skin to his desire. The slick evidence of her arousal stuck onto the fabric so thickly it was enough for her to feel the heat creeping along her cheeks.
"Would you look at that?" He whispered, lips touching the back of her ear. "I haven't even touched you here and you're already soaking wet."
Her heart was pounding hard in her chest as she watched him. There wasn't a moment of hesitation while his fingers tugged the waistband of her underwear, gingerly sliding them down her legs before pulling them past her feet and casting them somewhere over the side of the bed. Then he grabbed onto her knee, parting her legs further apart but not doing anything to quench her desire. He could feel her trembling, writhing with need as she pressed further into his front.
The cool air hit her exposed skin, and it took a lot of self-control for her not to beg even further, but the way her body squirmed was enough to let him know what she craved. Though his hand stayed where it was, firmly gripping onto her left leg, sliding it on top of his while his lips lazily mapped along her neck.
"Here's what we're going to do," his gruff voice filled her ears. "I'm going to touch you, I'm going to please you in every way you like—" His hand slid painfully slow down her thigh before it came to a complete stop. "—but you can only cum when I give you permission to." His fingers inched closer to her throbbing heat. "Do I make myself clear?"
A shiver spread along her body, understanding what he meant by those words. He wanted to rule her, he wanted to be the one in charge of her own body. And while she should've felt appalled at the thought, her arousal rather grew deeper at every ticking second as he waited for her reply.
And then suddenly his fingers wrapped around her neck again, gently pressing onto her skin as he jutted his hips towards her. "Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes," she begged him, her hand lightly tugging around his arm. "Perfectly clear."
Then his hand trailed down again, slightly brushing her aroused nipples before it settled on the heated span between her legs. When the pads of his fingers lightly grazed her clit, his teeth bit down on her shoulder. A hiss of pleasure instantly flew out of her mouth. Two of his fingers began running back and forth between her damp folds, the sensation was gradually pulling shallower and shallower breaths from her.
"You're so wet," he growled against her skin. "This what you've been needing?"
She faintly nodded, her hips moving gradually with his fingers. His fingers circled in swift motion and it was enough for her to roll her head back onto his shoulder. His fingers then slid back into her slicked entrance before he abruptly slipped two of them into her. Eyes snapping shut, she groaned in pleasure. He began thrusting slowly into her over and over, curling them deep inside. A whimper escaped her mouth at the feel of them as he began to pump into her roughly, her hips pressing eagerly back into his hand.
"I can already feel you clenching around my fingers," he whispered. "You really needed this, didn't you?"
"So much," she found herself answering, a hand grasping onto his arm as he kept thrusting his fingers at a steady pace. "I needed you."
"Then you have me. You'll always have me."
A breathy moan flew out of her at his words, her back arched in response. She felt his lips pulling into a smile along her skin, thrusting his fingers all the way in. She moaned loudly, her head dropping down between his shoulders as he pulled his fingers out before quickly pushing them right back inside.
"Spence," she breathlessly sighed, his fingers still vigorously thrusting into her, only pausing to occasionally curl inside of her which in turn had her toes curling on the bed, her body feeling closer to the edge of her release. "I-I'm gonna—"
"No. You're not."
She let out a loud groan, griping his arm as he thrust deeper, his fingers spreading wider into her as another finger entered her heat. His warm breath was brushing over her skin, the sensation mingled with his finger still thrusting into her deliciously pleasant. "Baby, I-I can't—"
"You can," he whispered, his breathing sounding harsher than before. "You're going to wait until I give you my permission."
A harsh moan ripped in her throat, her body spasming as she tried to force herself to control her body. but it was getting harder to do when her vision felt like it was blurring, her breath coming in sharp pants as his fingers continued to drive into her, the sensation had her legs shaking. She could hear how wet she was, the slick sound of him pumping into her echoed in the room.
"You're really enjoying this," he ground out as his pace picked up. "You're already so close."
She nodded against the pillow, whimpering out an affirmative noise that wasn't quite a word.
"Then I can't let that happen."
Instead of getting what she wanted, he abruptly pulled his fingers out from inside of her before she whined in protest. The loss of his touch on her body was too much to handle as she gripped his arm again, guiding him back between his legs. Spencer couldn't help the amusement dripping in his voice as he watched her move his fingers with her own. "What are you doing?"
"Spence, I was so close—"
"That's not how this works."
Then he retrieved his hand again before shifting behind her, and when she caught him pulling down his sweatpants, she couldn't help but arch her body towards him. She swallowed hard, goosebumps raising along her skin as she watched him pull out his cock, his hand gripping onto the length of it as he settled between her legs.
A moment later she felt the head of his cock rubbing through her damp folds, a shudder running down her spine at the sensation, a soft hum vibrating through her lips. She felt him line himself up with her entrance, her breath feeling like it was catching in her throat as she impatiently waited for him.
And then, finally, after many days of being apart, the tip of him slid inside of her so slowly. A gasp fell out of her mouth. Spencer rumbled out a very gruff, contented noise as he gradually sunk even deeper inside of her, pausing to let herself adjust to him.
"You feel so warm," he groaned out. "So perfectly warm."
She moaned in response, breath coming in hard. "Don't stop, please don't stop."
She could feel her walls fluttering around him, trying to adjust to his girth. Then his hips slowly began rocking into her, pleasure washing over her body in waves at the sensation. His mouth lowered beside her ear, each of his panting breaths falling straight into it. "Nice—" He moved his hips back before pushing them forward leisurely, enjoying the way she clenched around him. "—and slow."
The roll of his hips pulled her into a trance as her body responded; muscles straining, eyes widening, lips parting. Sparks of electricity began to ricochet along every nerve. The coil inside her was building up, her chest was rising and falling faster, more and more, dragging desperate breaths into her lungs with every thrust of his hips.
Then her eyes shifted downwards, watching the way he entered her deliciously body. It was a strange sight, to watch her body react to something so wonderful. Her muscles tensed, goosebumps sprang up along her skin, and it was all there for her viewing pleasure. She watched as he shoved himself into her, over and over again, her walls trembling at how intoxicating he was making her feel.
"Baby, I—" she whimpered, trembling in her wake. "I can't hold much longer."
"You can," he assured her, his fingers digging into her skin.
Weak and desperate, she surrendered in the wake of the urge elicited by his abrasive touch. His hands were all over her, large and expansive, confident in the way he touched, squeezed, and fondled every part of her body. Eager flames bloomed in the pit of her gut. "I—I can't."
He relished the way she clenched around him, her breathing coming out shallow as he took what he wanted. Then he gripped her hips, building up his pace as he thrust deeper into her. "You're so close, I can feel it," he pointed out. "Do you want to cum?"
She tried to focus her mind on something other than the feeling of him inside her. "Yes."
"Hmm," he hummed out, his pace briefly slowing. His lips brushed the shell of her ear as he demanded, "Beg me or I'll stop."
A whimper left her. "Spence."
His lips found her neck when he felt her walls squeezing him even tighter, "Do you want to cum?" he repeated against her skin.
"Mhmm."
"Use your words," he groaned as he increased the pace of his movements. "Say it."
Swallowing hard, her head rolled against his shoulder. Her lips were quivering as he kept up his pace, her body inching closer and closer to her release. She was fighting to hold it back, her body slowly beginning to shake along the mattress.
"Beg." Thrust. "Me." Thrust.
She was so close. Her eyes were half-lidded her voice rang in the air, breathless and desperate for his mercy from the overwhelming pleasure. "Please," she finally breathed out, almost letting out a cry, her lips parted in delight. "Baby—I-I... please let me cum."
"What was that?"
"Spencer," she whimpered desperately. "Please. Please. Let me—fuck.. baby, please."
This time she did let out a cry.
He snarled behind her before his teeth snapped at her earlobe, tugging at the delicate skin. Her body was quaking on the bed as she whined, struggling to hold back any longer. And when she felt like she was about to lose control, he finally released her earlobe and spoke, "Go on, then. Cum for me."
A loud moan flew up out of her throat, her body pressing back into his. She felt the hard clench of her walls around his length as pleasure spread through her entire body. As the coil in her stomach grew, she couldn't help but snake a hand down to where they were connected and quickly found her throbbing sex. Catching her desperate fingers, he swatted her hand away, replacing it with his own as his fingers circled around her clit.
His rough fingers taunting their joint bodies tipped her over that tantalizing edge. She felt each pulse of her walls so acutely, felt the heat flow throughout her spine as the high she reached never came to an end. He buried his face into her neck, kissing and biting the smooth skin. A certain movement from his fingers made her whole body shake. She couldn't handle it, couldn't see through the tears falling, couldn't feel anything but him and the hot pleasure.
She finally came with a scream, wrenched from her throat so roughly it seared its way out of her lungs and into the air. She felt herself clench around him, hard, and his hips shuddered violently against her. Her ears tingled at the rhythm of his grunts as he exhaled her name, his thrusts growing erratic. Then she felt him completely, she could feel his warmth seeping into her heat as he let out the most primal groan she had ever heard.
Silence engulfed them afterward, their heart slowing down from their erratic breathing. It wasn't until he slipped out of her that she let out a tired moan, her voice echoing in the dark. He gently grabbed her body and turned her around, cradling her cheek before leaning in for a kiss.
Then slowly, but steadily, all he tasted was her. It felt like a missing puzzle falling back to its place as his warm lips connected with hers. He was so enraptured by her touch, by the taste of her, that it took a lot for him to pull away. Breathing heavily, he finally rested his head back onto his pillow, a coy smile stretched on his lips as his thumb stroked along her cheek.
"Hi."
A sincere smile flourished on her face. "Hi."
"Well, that was... something."
She laughed as she leaned closer, wrapping her arm around his waist. "It was fun."
"It really was," he agreed, suddenly feeling shy as he realized what had just occurred. "I always surprise myself when I'm with you."
"Good," she simply said. He wrapped his arms around her as she settled in his embrace. They lay in comfortable silence, her head on his chest, legs draped over him as his fingers drew lazy patterns on her thigh. Then after a moment of relishing each other's presence, his deep voice cut through the silence.
"You know," he started, his voice very soft. "You could've just woken me up if you have trouble sleeping."
She slightly leaned back to look up at him. "You looked so peaceful, I didn't want to disturb you."
"Nothing about you will ever be disturbing to me."
She wrinkled her nose. "Even if you got home from a long, exhausting trip, you wouldn't mind if I woke you up for sex?"
"I'd especially want to be woken up for that reason," he replied in disbelief. His fingers trailed under her chin, angling her gaze on him. "Wouldn't you?"
She smiled at the thought. There was a delightful feeling as her mind wandered on the possibility of him interrupting her sleep because he craved her touch. "Alright," she agreed. "Duly noted."
His arms tightened around her. "Do you think you can sleep now?"
She hummed out a positive response, her face burrowing along his skin, just beneath his chin. Her body suddenly felt the heavy post-sexual bliss, and now surrounded by his warmth, she could feel the fatigue creeping into her body.
"I was hoping so," he murmured.
Tugging the sheets up higher over their body, she felt him shifting along the bed for a minute, his arms encircling her waist. His chin was carefully tucked onto the top of her head as he drew her in tight under the covers. And when the steady rhythm of his breathing embraced her, her body finally relaxed, falling into sleep.
5K notes · View notes
pearlywritings · 6 months
Text
A guide to motivate the General
Tumblr media
synopsis: just a couple of messages and maybe a call from his loved ones is all Jing Yuan needs to find it in himself to finish his work and go home.
pairing: Jing Yuan x fem!reader
tw: fluff, domestic fluff, dad!Jing Yuan, Mimi being a huge spoiled baby
word count: 2.1k+ words
Tumblr media
A loud yawn echoes in an empty space of The Seat of the Divine Foresight. The general squints, but immediately shakes his head - as much as he’d love to take a nap, there are still some urgent cases he has to attend to. It’s so quiet and lifeless with everyone being dismissed. Oh, what he would’ve given to be far far from here… 
He knows, however, that dwelling on such a matter is just a waste of his resources. Instead of feeling jealous of the guards and secretaries he let go home three hours ago, he opts to redirect the remnants of his energy to the last pile of papers he’s already halfway through.
But just as he reaches for another document his phone vibrates, screen lighting up momentarily, but even a second-long glance is enough to see who the message is from.
And he can’t make his wife wait, can he?
As he carefully puts the ink brush down the device makes a sound a couple of more times, indicating that there are three messages already. Quickly typing eight numbers of his passcode - two most important dates of his life - Jing Yuan swipes away all the spam that has gathered there this evening. His thumb lightly taps on the messenger and goes right to the chat with you, tired golden eyes gaining a bit of their usual shine.
Good evening, my love. I suppose you weren’t lying when you said you’d be quite busy. Didn’t want to disturb you before, but I hope Yanqing wasn’t covering you up, telling me that you ‘dutifully ate’ the dinner I asked him to bring you earlier.
Jing Yuan chuckles. Ah, isn’t it wonderful to have a loving doting spouse who cares so much for her husband. Of course he took a break and ate his dinner - how could he ever deny your home-cooked meals? It would be a crime against your marriage.
Ignoring for a moment your two next messages, the man starts typing an answer.
Good evening, beloved. Yes, I’ll be here for another hour it seems. But I am planning to return home tonight, don’t worry. Yes, the dinner was delicious, thank you. And you know that boy knows better than to lie to you.
Though he, personally, finds your infuriated face adorable, not scary. Sending the message, he skips to the next ones.
Look who’s been waiting for your return
And the video attached. Not thinking too long, he presses play.
He is quick to recognize your shared bedroom and from the angle you were filming you were clearly in bed. He can see the double doors of the entrance, some of the furniture and fine tapestries decorating the walls. But the main focus is obviously the big lion pacing back and forth in the space between the bed and the doors, occasionally stopping, glancing at the wooden obstacle, huffing and continuing its pacing. Then he hears you sweet melodic giggle and his heart melts and then immediately bursts when your voice enters the recording.
“She’s been like that for the last half an hour. She clearly misses papa.”
At the word ‘papa’ Mimi swiftly stops and looks at you and then at the door. Her tail slowly moves.
“No, Mimi, sorry, but papa isn’t home yet. Though I am sure he will soon.”
She seems to understand you, because another huff of dissatisfaction passes through her nose and she butts her head against the left door.
“Jing Yuan, you better hurry, before she figures out how to open the door and go bother ‘her cub’. I barely managed to separate the two.”
As the video stops, the general can’t help but snort, mouth covered with his palm. Eyes glance to the side, to the photo frame sitting snugly on his table - of him, you, held against his side with one arm, and a little girl perched comfortably in the crook of his other one. The smiles the three of you presenting are joyful and he can recall why - the day was brilliant, after all.
Not given an opportunity to wonder however, his attention is brought back by another vibration - looks like you still have something to say.
True, but it never hurts to make sure.
Want me to wait for you?
Oh, he’d love for you to be awake and welcome his exhausted body into your embrace, but at the same time he wants you to have a night of good sleep before tomorrow. Even so…he can allow himself to indulge just a little bit, right?
Warmth swirls in his chest when you pick his video call.
“Hi, pretty,” a lazy smile tugs on the corners of his lips when he sees your cozy form - hair let down, a pillow tucked behind your back and two thin straps of the chemise resting on your beautiful shoulders.
“Hey there, sleepyhead,” he sees your eyes taking into his own visage, noting his tired gaze, messy hair and a palm supporting his chin. “Are you calling me to answer my question?”
“Yes and no. Just wanted to see you before you go to sleep,” and that is enough of a response to you.
“How sweet of you, Yuan,” there is a guttural noise in the background and he sees your eyes dart behind the phone. “Ah, looks like Mimi heard your voice. She started running around the room. Searching for you, Mister,” even though there is a hint of reproach in your voice, the general knows you are simply joking. 
“My apologies. It seems I made all my girls wait. Speaking of my girls, how is-”
Suddenly you gasp and your body seems to jump and for a moment the phone tilts backwards and Jing Yuan has to stare at the ceiling.
“My dear? Everything is okay?”
“What-? Ah, yes, yes, it- Mimi, stop! Ouch, your paw is heavy!”
The ceiling is clearer now - you must’ve put the device down in an attempt to (what he can only guess) fight off the lion that jumped onto your bed, finally figuring out where the voice was coming from. Loud grunts and your noises of discontent with occasional complaints are the only things he can hear for a couple of minutes. Reasoning that it’s better if he stays silent for the time being, Jing Yuan sets the phone against the photo frame and returns to the paper he was about to review.
It’s almost three documents later - wow, a quick peak of his loved one is doing wonders to his worsened productivity - when the commotion settles down and you pick your phone back, heavily exhaling with an annoyed look on your face. Jing Yuan decides to simply turn to you, hand still skipping through the papers.
“I swear, this overgrown cat is the biggest baby I’ve ever dealt with. Here, look, papa is here,” and you practically shove the device into the animal’s muzzle. Big nose sniffs around, and, not finding the familiar scent of her caretaker, the lion gives you a side eye, which makes your husband choke on his laughter. The maned head whips to the left, keen hearing obviously picking a well-known voice.
“Who taught her that jumping onto the bed is okay?” You are in his sight again, fingers running through your hair, now no different from his own messy locks. “Right - you. I couldn’t get her off and barely managed to put this bulk down. You better pray she decides to leave on her own accord, or you are sleeping on the floor tonight.”
Yes, your annoyed expressions are truly marvelous. How he wished to be there with you and shower your puffy cheeks with dozens of kisses, cradling your face in his big warm palms. It would be so lovely.
“I’ll just go and sleep with my angel then. I am sure she won’t be against having dada by her side.”
He hears Mimi yawn loudly and you make an ‘oof’ sound, promptly lifting the phone.
“Everything is alright?”
“Yeah… She just dropped her head onto my lap. And is staring at me, quite offended.”
“Oooh, now you are stuck,” he can't help but smirk, relishing the roll of your eyes. He knows better than anyone how heavy his pet is. Even he feels a strain in his back whenever he picks her up. Or maybe he is just getting old.
“Wow, thanks, General Obviousness. Mimi, your papa is so-”
Abruptly you are interrupted again, but this time by a quiet, almost inaudible sound of the doors opening. He sees your body lean forward and by a warning “Mimi, stay” he knows you are pinning the animal down. Which can mean only one thing…
“Mom?” A sweet sleepy voice of his daughter proves his assumption right. Suddenly, hearing just one word from her, the man wants to abandon what little work he has left and rush home to envelope the little wonder into his arms, hear her giggle and call him “dad” or “dada” or “papa” - he'd take anything, really, as long as it’s from his little one.
“What is it, baby? Having trouble sleeping?” Oh, but your voice is so beautifully tender, he wants to have it directly caress his ears, while he is cuddled into your body, your fingers running through his thick hair. Aeons, he is losing focus.
“I heard Mimi running,” the little voice gets closer and Jing Yuan sees how your shoulder tenses - the arm is undoubtedly wrapped around the lion’s body. “I thought that daddy came home… has he not yet?”
Now, he really wants to get home as soon as possible.
“No, sweety. But guess what? I am talking to him right now. Want to say hi?”
As you are leaning back, your husband reaches for the phone, holding it properly in his hands, heart skipping a beat in anticipation, waiting for the girl to climb onto the bed and settle at your side.
Stars above, she is a carbon copy of him. Fluffy hair, tucked behind her ears not to obscure the vision, keeping the pretty liquid gold eyes on display, a beauty mark under her eye is charming, just as a lovely smile, stretching mouth when she finally catches the glimpse of her father.
“Papa hiii!” Her little hands wave happily at him, a toothy grin even wider than before. Pure excitement written all over her drowsy expression is adorable, so cute in fact, that Jing Yuan fists the shirt on his chest in a silent cry of his heart.
“Hi, my little sparrow,” he speaks softly, gazing at her with so much love, while his mind is screaming with joy. “I am going to be home very soon. But I want you, and mama, and Mimi all to go to sleep.”
“But whyyy,” she whines, pouting. He also hears the lion grunt, as if understanding what he is saying, and you just shake your head with a small chuckle.
“Because papa wants you to be well-rested. He promised us a walk tomorrow, right?” Your hand goes to rest on top of her head, patting. “It’ll be too bad if we are sleepy, don't you think?”
“Mama is right. I know you miss me, baby, and I miss you terribly too. But if we want to spend the whole day together, doing everything you, princess, want, I have to complete some of my cases. That's why I am going to say my good night’s and get back to work to finish it.”
The white-haired girl sighs, dropping her head, letting the heavy fringe escape and cover her eyes.
“Being an adult is awful,” he hears her murmur a complaint and can’t help but agree. Though, if he wasn’t an adult, would’ve he ever had you and her? “But I get it, daddy. I am a big girl!”
“That’s my girl,” he gives her an encouraging smile, when she lifts her eyes again to look at him from under the bangs. His smile is almost immediately mirrored.
“So…” Jing Yuan catches your gaze (you have been watching this whole exchange with a fond look in your eyes) and shares unspoken affection. “Good night, my love.”
“Have you soon in my arms, dear,” you blow a kiss and he makes a grabby motion with his hand, bringing it to his very heart.
“Baby,” the girl perks, wiggling in her place and tucking her hair away when his attention is focused on her once more, “sweet dreams. I promise to stop by and kiss you on the cheek.”
“I'll be waiting- I mean sleeping! Have fun with work, daddy.”
“I will. Rub Mimi’s tummy for me, will you?”
“Mhm!”
Giving the two of you one last glance before hanging up, Jing Yuan is filled with the new found motivation. At that moment he thinks that busying himself for the full duration of the day is absolutely worth it, if he gets to give his girls undivided attention tomorrow.
And he will be damned if he lets something ruin it.
2K notes · View notes
ecoamerica · 1 month
Text
youtube
Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc
The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!
16K notes · View notes