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bangaveragewhitewine · 7 months

Text

such a flirt!

Eddie Munson x Reader (bouncer x bartender, established relationship)

May 1992

Flirting with Eddie Munson was in your top five favourite things to do. To flirt and be flirted with was written through him like a stick of rock candy. Feeling secure in your relationship, you don't let it bother you too much - you know that no matter how many women (and men) gave him doe eyes and fluttered their lashes, Eddie would be going home with you.

That being said, you saw red when Crystal showed up.

A follow-up to crazy-mad for you & I'm yours, all yours. (part of the Happy Hours series)

Word count: 7.9k

Content / Warnings: Jealous!Reader, feeling insecure & spiralling, comparing yourself to another person, mention of being cheated on in the past. A tiny fight (kinda). Female OC. Flirting, turned all the way up to eleven. Bi-panic 😈. This is 18+ if you are not 18 please read something else; semi-public sex, fingering, a hefty helping of dirty talk, slight perv!Eddie and mention of bruises left after sex. Eddie ‘Motormouth’ Munson, a certified menace.

This one is quite introspective, a look into Bartender-reader’s self-doubt and insecurities.

Author’s note: Well girls, we’re back. I really can’t get these two out of my head. Thank you to bestie @specialagentmonkey for proofreading ♥️

Flirting with Eddie Munson was in your top five favourite things to do.

To flirt and be flirted with was written through him like a stick of rock candy. Perfected and fine-tuned over time, Eddie was smooth-talking, honey-tongued and could undress you with a simple glance - all things that had drawn you to your co-worker-turned-boyfriend. To bear witness to his talent (one of many, to be fair) had helped you to up your own flirt-game; figuring out how he liked to be flirted with, what made his pupils blow wide, or his tongue dart out to wet his lip. Flirtation was part of the very foundation of your relationship with the curly-haired rocker.

Working together made your flirtation extra fun, a tool for extended foreplay while you poured shots and beers, while Eddie checked IDs and did his rounds to make sure no one was bumping coke in the bathroom (again).

It also meant that you both had seen your other half be flirted with by strangers more times than you could even quantify. It was part of the job, a grin-and-bear-it part that sent Eddie home with more than one feather boa or a smeared lipstick mark on his cheek from a bachelorette party (bachelorettes loved your boyfriend, and you understood why). It also often meant you could make a few extra dollars on tips if and when you allowed it, extra dollars to buy a book or new tape you wanted or pay for takeout on your next night off together.

You felt secure enough in your relationship to not let it bother you too much, knowing that no matter how many women (and men) gave him doe eyes and fluttered their lashes, Eddie would be going home with you.

That being said, you saw red when Crystal showed up.

It had started off as a usual shift; a Friday night in early May; the weather was warming up and the new cocktail menu you had put together was already proving popular. You and Eddie arrive together after an afternoon of lazy sex, reading together in bed and taking turns to make coffee before hauling yourselves up for a shared shower and a pre-shift diner dinner.

By now you had all but officially moved into Eddie’s little apartment. You spent the odd night apart if you were meeting friends, or if Eddie had a gig, but oftentimes he would come crash at your place instead of going two more blocks home. His little one-bed apartment had begun to feel very much like home. You felt the question might be coming soon after he was a little too interested in your lease agreement and when it was up for renewal. If you had paid a little more attention, you might have noticed the dogeared YellowPages bookmarked with a scrap of paper on a page of addresses of key-cutting places on your side of the city.

You walked in the back door of Jackie’s, Eddie hot on your heels with his fingers dipping into the back pocket of your denim skirt to poke the mouth-shaped bruise he had bestowed upon your asscheek. It was in the tender purple-black stage, and he loved to rile you up by pawing at it.

“Quit it!” you hiss at him, scowling over your shoulder. “You’re a fuckin’ menace, Munson.”

Eddie’s clever comeback is cut off by a roar of laughter from the bar. The bar doesn’t open for another hour so it’s only the other staff in before you.

“Weird.” Eddie double-checks his watch to make sure he didn’t keep you late making out in the car or lose an hour somewhere.

“Definitely weird,” you agree. “Is it someone’s birthday? Shit…” You think through the calendar in your head. Frank’s birthday isn’t for another two weeks…

Eddie shrugs and cranes his neck as you turn the handle of the staff room door. “Go ahead out, nosy. Be there soon.”

Eddie pauses, makes sure you’re alone, and takes advantage of the distraction in the bar to press you against the doorframe. With an almost predatory grin, he leans in for a slow filthy kiss. Taking your surprised little gasp for an opportunity to slide his tongue against yours, he pulls that little gasping moan that he loves right from your throat.

“Love you,” he murmurs before grazing your lip with his teeth. “Don’t miss me too much.”

He smacks a final kiss to your warm cheek and gives your achy butt one more squeeze before hot-footing it to the bar to see what’s going on.

You hear his throaty laugh as he leaves you close to panting against the wall. “Asshole.”

The staff room door muffles the noise as you scowl to yourself, left throbbing between your legs in more ways than one. As you swipe on some lipstick and tie your apron with a bow, you contemplate just how to get Eddie back for kissing you like something straight out of a smutty romance novel. After a final once-over in the mirror, you head out to join in on whatever is going on.

Sitting on the bar, holding court, is the most stunning woman you have ever seen. She’s got these shiny green siren-eyes that command attention with hypnotic power. She reminds you of a copper-haired Kelly Bundy with deep red lips and the perkiest tits you have ever seen.

She’s hot.

She’s also got her hand on Eddie’s shoulder, toying with the freshly trimmed ends of his hair and twisting the coils around her long manicured nails.

It makes something acidic unfurl and burn in your chest.

He doesn’t even look over when you step out from the back, too busy nodding along to whatever the reincarnated Birth of Venus is saying.

Through the sheer black of her blouse, you can spy ink that will have taken hours to press into creamy blemish-free skin, black and sharp and perfect. She carries an air of ‘your friend's cool older sister’, something utterly unattainable that makes you feel like an awkward teen again.

Michelle beckons you over, flashing a smile when she sees you. “Hi sweetie,” she squeezes your hand with a little whisper.

“Who’s -?” you mouth silently, not wanting to interrupt when this siren-woman has everyone hanging on every word.

Before she can even answer, the goddess has everyone laughing again and she turns her attention on the late-comer to her one-woman show. You.

“Oh hi! You’re new!” Her voice is sultry and smoky-smooth. “I’m Crystal, used to work here way back. You’re…?”

New? In a couple of months, it will be two whole years since you first stepped foot inside Jackie’s and scored a job the same night.

You plaster on a smile, feeling tiny as you gaze up at the goddess on her plinth. You tell her your name, eyes darting to Eddie briefly but Frank has his ear while Crystal questions you.

Michelle wraps her arm around your shoulders. “She’s a superstar. Our cocktail queen! Designed the new menu and everything,” she squeezes you against her and leans her blonde head against yours.

“Oh, cute! You have to make me something later, okay?” Crystal insists, glancing at the board behind the bar where your carefully curated creations have been colourfully chalked up by Eddie’s artistic hand, complete with little illustrations of cocktail glasses - you had teared up when they surprised you with it.

Crystal taps Eddie’s shoulder. “Ed, what’s good on the menu? Is there anything better than my Long Islands? You know, I used to make him drinks after every shift.”

You watch your boyfriend smirk before he catches your eye. “Those were lethal, Crys. There’s not one bad drink on the menu. She worked super hard on it, best sellers all round.” Eddie winks at you, smiling proudly. It should settle then twisting discomfort in your chest but it barely touches the sides.

“You’re such a flirt, Ed. My god.” Crystal laughs and shoves his shoulder gently before hopping down with her graceful long legs. “You got a cigarette? We better let them get the bar prepped. Friday nights are always so crazy here.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Crystal flashes a smile your way, something playful. “See ya later for that drink.”

Warm-cheeked and grey-matter scrambled, you watch Eddie pat down his pockets as Frank and the other bar staff tell Crystal how good it is to see her again. Jeff is already walking ahead toward the door, playing it smooth and cool though his eyes are hearts on stalks like a cartoon character.

“Inside left, Ed,” you say, pointing out where his battered pack of smokes were hidden. You had slipped them in there after all.

Eddie breathes a sigh of relief, a grin on his face - he plans on quitting or at least cutting down but right now, a shift without smokes doesn’t bear thinking about. He’s about to say thanks but you have already turned your back to hide your pink cheeks, ashamed of the jealousy coursing through you.

It pisses you off more when he doesn’t come over anyway for one more kiss. Your lips still buzz from the swoon-worthy smooch he had laid on you but it turns to a sting as he turns and follows Crystal instead.

You distract yourself with your to-do list before the bar opens and ponder over the history your boyfriend may or may not have with Jessica fucking Rabbit.

You’re lucky not to lose a finger with how furiously you chop wedges and slices of lemons and limes, feeling totally on edge when you think about Crystal and Eddie laughing and smoking together. The last time you had seen another girl touch his hair he had very kindly moved her hand and directed her to the bar to buy a drink from you, ‘the hottie bartender, she’s my girlfriend - tell her Eddie says hi’.

Michelle lets you stew a bit as she checks the taps and restocks the straws and napkins. She catches you swearing at an unopenable jar of maraschinos, fearing you may smash the jar and slice your hand if you don’t quit knocking it on the counter.

“Okay, what’s going on? Did those cherries kill your grandma?” she asks, taking the jar from your lime-juice-sticky hands.

“Nothing's going on. I’m fine.”

Liar. You’re actively thinking about how good Eddie and Crystal looked side-by-side and you hate it. Red and black, his favourite colours.

“Do you have cramps? Are you and Eddie fighting or somethin’?” she asks, hand on her hips.

“No, and no. Just… Ugh.” You know Michelle doesn’t give up until she gets an answer. You love and hate her for it, she’s definitely one of your best friends for life now - especially when she opens the cherries without breaking a sweat.

“Spill, babe.” She spears four cherries with two toothpicks; one for you and one for her.

You accept it with a little smile that fades quickly and use the distraction to figure out how to say what you want to ask without sounding like a crazy person.

“Crystal… Did she and Eddie…?” You brace for impact.

Michelle raises one thin brow as she chews the sticky red fruit. “Go out? Fuck? Nuh-uh, don’t think so. You’d have to ask him though, babe. She’s just… super flirty. They were friendly, and I think she had a little crush on him.” She shrugs, “He left for tour before she quit, she moved out west.”

You nod, chewing the second cherry without really tasting it. “Yeah,” you sigh. “I guess… I just thought he might’ve told her I was his girlfriend or something.”

Michelle watches your shoulder slump and pulls you in for a one-armed hug. “Maybe he should’ve. He did hype up your cocktails - he does that when he’s checking IDs y’know, gives out recommendations and everything. Totally whipped, huh?”

She kisses your head and squeezes you to her side. “Don’t let it get to you. Crys will get bored soon, especially if he’s not flirting back. She’s a Vegas gal now, I doubt we’re to her standards anymore.”

You lean your head against your friend and fold yourself into a hug. “Thank you. You’re the best.” After a few moments, you speak again. “She’s so pretty.”

“Ugh, I know. Makes my piss boil, she’s so hot.”

You both break into giggles as you squeeze each other extra tight, pinky-swearing to have a girls’ night the next time you both have the same night off.

With a little boost from Michelle, you finish setting up the bar and write up the night’s drink specials on the menu boards. You turn the music up to cover the sound of Eddie’s throaty laugh as it carries from inside the door, trying to ignore the twisting feeling in your gut.

It’s busy from the off tonight and though you had plenty to distract you as you poured and mixed drinks, tendrils of jealousy crept in and coiled around you like boa constrictors. You half-watched Crystal flit and flirt around, distracting the other bartenders when she wasn’t lingering far too close to the door for your liking.

Why hadn’t he ever mentioned her before? Had he flirted with her like had with you before you got together? Was she going to take her job back and take your boyfriend too?

If she didn’t seem so fond of your boyfriend, you might just be in awe of her and want to be her best friend. Alas, your hang-ups don’t extend such kindness and instead make you bitterly territorial as you shrink into yourself, feeling like a toe in comparison to her.

You want to take your overloaded brain out and shake the stupid thoughts out in a chilled silver shaker, strain them away before screwing your head back on so you could be normal about the woman who might have no ulterior motive for hanging around your boyfriend.

Around nine thirty you step away from the bar to take your turn collecting empties from tables; the crowd is cheerful and you move around them with ease. Crystal isn’t anywhere and you see Eddie chatting to Frank by the door before the big boss heads home for the night. Your shoulders relax a little, hoping that Michelle is right and the redhead had decided to find somewhere a bit more salubrious for the rest of her night.

It’s almost time for your first break; you need a stone-cold Diet Coke and ideally a joint - but that’s a post-shift treat, so fresh air will have to do.

The catchy part of En Vogue’s My Lovin’ plays on a loop in your head as you drag yourself to the back door with your fizzing pint glass of Coke and lime. The ice clinks out of tune with your hum-singing.

You’re almost at the door when you realise there’s someone else out there before you. The rest of the staff is behind the bar and Eddie doesn’t take his five minutes this early (not when the door is peak-busy). You try to spy through the gap in the door where it’s propped open with a crate and see a flash of shiny copper, perched on your stool.

The click of ice against glass gives you away and Crystal turns her head, spotting you peeking. She’s not even supposed to be out here, but at least she’s not haunting Eddie - small mercies, you guess. You give her a tight smile and step outside.

“Oh, hi. Is it your break?”

“Yeah. Just my five.” You shrug and sip your drink, leaning against the cool bricks as Crystal eyes you from behind the smoke of her menthol cigarette.

“Want one?” she asks, offering the packet out.

You do. You miss the menthol burn from high school parties. “Sure. Thanks.”

She gives you a little smile and passes you the packet, a new Bic lighter under her thumb to light you up.

“Is it nice to be back?” you ask, filling the silence after your thank you as Crystal looks at her nails. Up close you can see a few of her tattoos beneath her sheer blouse; a rose on her shoulder, a fierce trad style leopard on her inner arm.

“Oh yeah. Missed the guys, they’re such sweethearts.” She smiles and watches you sip your drink. You feel like a lamb next to her, an elegant lioness. “You like working here?”

“I really do. They’re kinda like family now.” It’s no word of a lie.

“Cute. It was one of the best places I worked.” She stubs her smoke under the block of her heel. “You work with Eddie much?”

And there it is.

You take a long minty drag. “Yeah, pretty often. We’re usually scheduled on the same shifts.”

Crystal nods her head. “Super hot right? Somethin’ nice to look at to make the night go faster huh?” You watch her lips curve into a coy grin.

Your own smile is a little at her expense.

“Oh for sure.” You double-fist your drink and cigarette, tapping the ash off carefully. “That’s why we don’t let him behind the bar, leave him by the door to draw in the girls.” You echo Frank and Michelle’s teasing of your boyfriend; his heavy pours and clumsiness with glasses are the main reasons he stays stationed on security, but it’s fun to tease him.

Crystal laughs at that, head thrown back. “Right?! And such a flirt!”

It’s the second time she mentioned that tonight. It wasn’t a lie - you’re simply used to being the only subject of Eddie’s well-practised flirtation after seven months of being his girlfriend.

It rattles around your head, clanging like a bell. Such a flirt! There are a few beats of silence before she speaks again.

“Hey, do you know if he’s seeing anyone?” Crystal asks. “I’m flying back out on Sunday. The rockstar thing really does it for me.”

You feel a stone - nay, a boulder - sink in your belly and take another drink as she continues. God, you wish you had spiked this for yourself, smoky-sweet rum or clean sharp vodka. The chill of the ice and menthol can’t dampen the burn in your chest, a heady mix of jealousy and rage.

“I was going to try and link up with him when he was on tour, I was in L.A. for a bit before the move to Las Vegas. I thought he might stick around out there a while,” Crystal digs around in her purse for her compact and lipstick as she speaks, prettying her already stunning self up for your boyfriend. “Maybe tonight’s my night,” she says, touching up her powder before looking at you for an answer.

You blink a few times, bathing your sticky tongue with cold Coke before you can speak.

“Sorry, Crystal.” Your voice is surprisingly steady for how all over the place you feel. “Yeah, he’s definitely got a girlfriend. Together almost a year.” You blow menthol smoke into the air, feeling it turn your mouth acrid in a way that can’t be balanced by your sweet drink. You crush the half-smoked cig under your boot and push off the wall to head back inside.

“Guess tonight’s not your night,” you say, shrugging.

It’s a little bitchy and mean when you could just put her out of her misery. Instead, you just turn and head back inside, cutting your short break even shorter. You shut the door behind you, slamming it just hard enough to make a point.

You should have just told her, acted like a grown-up instead of a jealous teenager with a chip on your shoulder. The anxious little worm in your brain had decided for you, calling out ‘don’t tell her, she won’t believe that Eddie would want a girl like you when goddess-women like her walk the earth!’

As you rest your back to the door, you squeeze your eyes shut and take a deep breath.

In for four, hold for four, out for four.

Eddie isn’t like Connor. He’s not like Eric either.

Years of hurt and heartbreak, being someone’s number one until someone better, prettier, funnier came along, had made you wary of dating when you boxed up your life and moved to Chicago. You had gone on a few really crappy dates last summer before getting together with Eddie, before he showed you the real him (unexpectedly sweet-hearted, willing to get a bloody nose in a fight for you).

His flirty nature had made you wary of having your heart broken by a charming ladies' man all over again. But that’s not your Eddie. He had promised you that wasn’t him, showered you with love and promised you were it for him. He never seemed frustrated with affirming his feelings for you, promising you it was the real deal. He loved the heartbroken girl inside you just as much as he adored the woman you are now.

Having a borderline existential crisis on your five-minute break wasn’t the respite you had planned from the busy bar. As you splash cool water on your wrists and spritz your warm cheeks with rose water, you just hope that Crystal isn’t one of the girls who sees a man with a girlfriend as a fun challenge rather than off-limits.

When you feel a little less shaky - or steady enough to not drop every glass you pick up - you tag one of the other barmen to go on his five and slot back into your pit of self-loathing, hidden behind a smile and the beer taps. By the time you shake up six Appletinis and a tray of Blowjob shots for a table of girls celebrating a birthday, you have convinced yourself that Eddie would probably be better off with Crystal instead of your petty jealous ass.

You’re so deep in your wallowing that you miss Eddie darting from the door to your side of the bar. His hand is tapping the drink-slick bar top to get your attention before you even see him.

“Psst. Hey, c’mere. Need to talk to you.”

Are you in trouble? Had Crystal told him about your less-than-friendly behaviour? You plaster a smile on, one that he sees right through.

“Ed, I’m working. What’s wrong?” you ask, stepping away from your station to hear him better over the music.

“M’working too, it’ll just take a sec.” Eddie leans forward, smiling cheekily. “You’re my girlfriend, right?”

Your cheeks heat up. Shit. He knows.

You nod. “Yeah…”

“Lemme hear you say it?” he tilts his head, batting his lashes a little playfully.

You sigh and roll your eyes, pretending that your heart isn’t beating out of your chest, even though it feels a little bruised. “I’m your girlfriend.”

He looks triumphant and amused and pulls your hand in between his own, holding it like a treasure. “Okay, good. Why didn’t you just tell Crys that?”

The rolling boil of hurt that had been bubbling in your chest all evening and into the night doesn’t evaporate with Eddie’s loving little touch.

“Why didn’t you tell her, Ed? You could’ve told her fuckin’ hours ago that I was your girl.”

Your heads are close together as Eddie leans in to hear you over Alannah Myles crooning Black Velvet.

Expecting you to be a little more playful, matching his energy, he sobers and frowns, studying the hurt marring your pretty face. “Oh shit. Honey…”

“It hurt, Ed. You had like two chances right off the bat... How many more did you miss, huh?”

Eddie’s brows disappear under his bangs. “Fuck, it’s not like that. I didn’t realise… Didn’t even think. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah? Good.” You squeeze his hand anyway, proud of yourself for not minimising your feelings to just go back to normal.

“Baby…” “Eddie…”

His Bambi eyes aren’t enough this time. But you know he’s going to feel like shit because he hurt you, which makes you feel crappy for ever doubting him.

“Can I kiss it better?” Eddie’s pouted lower lip is obscenely kissable.

A mid-shift kiss is usually Eddie’s reason for waylaying you at the bar, though he can usually hold off until your break together. He leaves Jeff to man the door when it’s quiet so he can claim his sugar tax or borrow your lip balm (he really has an impressive collection of euphemisms for begging a kiss from you).

You’re usually very forthcoming, and right now you would love a kiss but the opportunity to fuck with him and get a little payback for his romance novella bullshit earlier (getting you worked up before the longest shift of your life) feels too good to miss. Your scheming lifts your mood from the doom spiral, just a little.

Yeah, flirting with Eddie was core to the foundation of your relationship, but so was fucking around with him.

You meet his baby cow eyes with your own gaze, looking through your black-coated lashes.

“You love me?” “To the death.” “Then you can wait.”

Eddie’s jaw drops. One hand clutches his heart as the other holds your hand even tighter. “Baby… You’re really withholding a kiss right now? I said sorry! And I meant it!”

You roll your eyes, classic drama queen Munson. You fucking love him.

“I am.” “You’re killing me.”

You smile and lift his hand to kiss the back of it. “Then suffer. I’ve got customers to serve, Ed. See you at twelve - maybe you’ll get a kiss then.”

You pat his cheek and turn away, hearing the thud of skull versus countertop as he groans like a wounded man.

He’s going to be insufferably lovely for the rest of the weekend to make it up to you.

Your re-found spring in your step has you back in your usual flow as you pour beers side by side with Michelle. Eddie has dragged himself back to the door to sulk, but not before tossing scowling puppy eyes over his shoulder at you.

“I should be pissed you’re slacking off to talk to your boyfriend but whatever that was made you actually smile, so I’m here for it.” She grins and bumps your hip with her own, your signature move together as you work in tandem.

“Just a wee bit of payback. I’ll tell you on girls’ night,” you promise, hearing her laugh as you ring up your customer.

Spirits lifted, albeit at your boyfriend’s expense, you make it through the peak of the night without spiralling any further. In fact, your distraction is all Eddie Eddie Eddie.

At least until the scent of freshly spritzed Dior Poison wafts over the bar as you catch sight of copper and red next in line for you. Crystal.

She looks just as gorgeous when she’s a little bashful, giving you a warm smile - a promise that she comes in peace.

You’re cringing, wishing you could duck behind the bar, but you definitely owe her an apology.

“Hi.”

“Hey, Crystal. I think I owe you a cocktail…”

She smiles, her creamy cheeks blushing in the dim light of the bar. “What do you recommend? I’ve heard you’re like, the queen of mixology and know exactly what drink people will like.”

You can hear Eddie’s praise of you in her words; his little alchemist, his sexy potion-mistress. He took his role of taste-tester in chief with the utmost seriousness.

“Mm, I do my best. You like cherries?” you ask, tilting your head.

“I do.”

She lifts her arm to show you a stick and poke cherry tattoo on her wrist.

“Tequila?”

“Girl… Are you in my brain right now?”

You grin and shake up a mix of cherry liquor, ginger syrup, tequila and lime juice with ice - adding a little extra cherry syrup just because. You pour the mixed margarita into a chilled glass with salt and sugar rim and a cherry garnish.

“Don’t even think of getting your purse out,” you say as you slide it across the bar. “I’m sorry for being weird.”

Crystal accepts the proffered straw and slides it into her drink, taking a slow sip. Her eyes blow wide as the flavours of cherry and earthy tequila bathe her tongue, zinging sharp with bright lime. “This is amazing.”

You smile and shrug. “It’s my personal favourite, and… Well, you strike me as a woman with excellent taste too.”

The thick tension and coiling vines of envy from before are totally gone now as you both share a knowing smile.

“Sorry for flirting with your boyfriend. I definitely wouldn’t have if I knew…” Crystal squeezes your forearm where it rests on the bar. “Nothing ever happened between us, just friends when I worked here. We flirted back and forth, just for fun. That’s all.”

You nod, feeling more at peace now. “He’s fun to flirt with, I don’t blame you. We started off just flirting too. And bitching at each other. Just for fun.”

Crystal smiles and sips her drink again. “He’s crazy about you. You know that right? Only has eyes for you. He’s got it bad.”

Feeling your cheeks and chest heat up, you nod again. “I do, I’m kinda crazy about him too. Literally crazy tonight, apparently. I’m really sorry I was a total weirdo with you earlier.”

Crystal extends one hand, long red nails pointed at you, and you take it to shake. “Water under the bridge, babe.”

You wish you hadn’t wasted your time spiralling when you could have been making a friend.

She squeezes your hand, making sure you’re looking at her. “Y’know, I was gonna ask earlier if you were single even if Eddie wasn’t… The hot bartender thing also does it for me.”

Oh, she was good.

So good that your brain goes static for a few moments.

The hot girl thinks you’re hot. She’s totally flirting right now. It feels…good?

Crystal fixes you with that siren stare, black lashes sweeping her cheeks when she blinks slowly. Your face and chest flame hot as you become the focus of her flirtation.

“Uh… I… Wow. Really? Sorry… We kinda ruined your night, huh?” Your voice is shakier than you would like, your tongue thick in your mouth, but she finds it endearingly sweet.

“Nah, you made me this yummy drink. And hey, if you two are ever planning a trip, Vegas can be lots of fun. Come find me maybe?”

Crystal drops you a wink before disappearing into the crowd like a breath of cherry smoke, a napkin with her number left on the bar for you - for you and Eddie. You fold it into your back pocket, another little thing to tease Eddie with when you get on your break with him.

Being flirted with and propositioned while you were working had never been quite so fun or exhilarating. Usually, it made you feel icky, but now you feel like you’re zinging with electricity that helps you power through the thirsty queuing customers cleaning spills and collecting glasses until you’re tagged to go on break again.

You uncap a beer for yourself, shoving lime in the tall neck, and take one for Eddie with you when you head out back to meet him. You pause to swipe more rosy lipstick on before shouldering past the heavy exit door.

Your brain hurts from the tornado of different emotions you have experienced on your shift so far, but the chill of brick against the back of your head and the cool beer on your tongue helps.

As always, you hear your boyfriend before you see him. Tonight is heavy boots pounding on stone as he rushes back to you, unable to stand another second of being un-kissed.

“Medic? We have an emergency!”

For a moment you think he might not be fucking around, but the way his eyes glint when he sees you proves otherwise.

“Jesus Christ, you scared the shit outta me,” you tut.

“Thank god you’re here! It’s life or death.” His breath comes quick as he stops in front of you, holding your face in his hands. “There’s a dying man, he needs urgent mouth-to-mouth.”

Your brow rises as you fight the urge to grin. “Oh yeah? Poor guy. Sounds fatal.”

“It is. He was a total idiot and now he’s not got long left.”

Those baby cow eyes shine with genuine regret, sparkling with a sprinkle of mischief that is so innate to Eddie Munson.

“Well, maybe I can help. But I don’t think he’s totally in the wrong.” Your hand slips over his shoulder, touching butter-soft leather. “There’s also a crazy woman on the loose - you might have seen her… I think it might be all my fault.”

“Nah. Only saw this crazy-beautiful woman. She looked kinda sad though… Broke my heart a little.”

You look up into Eddie’s eyes, feeling more than in love as you close the gap between you. Pillow-soft lips press against your rose-tinted mouth, kissing away any remnants of worry and sadness as he wraps you up in his arms.

“I fuckin’ love you, baby,” he murmurs, barely breaking away to remind you of what is true. “M’sorry.”

“I love you.” Your palm curves, moulding against his neck and you can feel his pulse hammering beneath. You move back slightly, so you can tell him what was bugging you without being waylaid by the need to kiss him. “I got so in my head. It just…”

Eddie’s head rests against yours as he listens.

“I got really jealous.” It’s barely a whisper when you speak it out loud. “It was stupid because it was all in my head.”

Eddie runs his nose against yours, lips tracing its path until they press your forehead.

“S’not stupid if it’s real to you, princess.” Eddie holds you against him, pressing kiss after kiss to your busy head. “I wish I could’ve made it better sooner. It’s not nice to hear that I made you doubt me. I’m not going to hold it against you, I promise.”

You direct him back to your lips, kissing him when words fail you.

“M’sorry,” you whisper against his mouth. “I never doubted you, Eddie. I just.. it was me. I didn’t get why you’d want me when Crystal was right there. She’s the hottest woman ever.”

Eddie scoffs. “Are you jokin’ with me? Baby, you are the hottest woman ever.”

“Eddie, it’s fine. We both have eyes - she’s hot,” you admit, smiling a little. “Wanna hear something funny?”

He nods and presses one more kiss to your mouth.

“She was trying to flirt with me too. I was just too up in my head to realise…”

Eddie grins, shaking his head. “As she should, you’re smokin’.”

Your arms wrap around him, hugging tight. “We’re all good now. I made her a drink, she prepositioned me…” you say, totally offhand.

You brace for Eddie’s reaction.

A ten thousand-watt grin almost blinds you when Eddie peels himself back. “Oh yeah? That is kinda hot…”

“Shut up.” Your voice wobbles with laughter. “Don’t worry, babe. She said you’re invited too. If we’re ever in Vegas, that is…”

Brown eyes blow wide - Eddie doesn’t know what to do with himself. “H-whaa?”

Pressing your face against the soft black cotton of his t-shirt, you giggle against his chest. “You heard me. She was crushing on both of us tonight.”

“That… I… My brain has stopped working…” “Stop imagining it, Edward.” “I’m not.” “You are! I can feel your dick on my leg, dude!”

Eddie takes two steps back, hands on his head as he spins in a circle. “I’m in some parallel realm. Did I die? Oh, I did die… See? This is why you should’ve kissed me earlier! I’m flatlining here! Medic!”

His dramatic ass has you cackling, cheeks hurting as the no-game nerd inside him fails to comprehend what you just told him. You were both interested in exploring with each other in the bedroom and had already broadened your tastes with him, but neither of you had anticipated stumbling across this unopened door…

“So I’ll throw her number in the trash?” you ask, sipping your beer with a pointed raise of your brow.

The nonsensical goblin-yelp that comes from Eddie’s mouth makes the bubbles fizz up the back of your throat, making you cough and splutter. He’s an absolute dork and you adore him.

He presses pause on the dramatics to check on you, making sure you’re not going to choke on lime-spiked beer.

“Hot.” Eddie laughs as he wipes the fizz from your lip, then pats you hard on the back. He pouts as you pinch your brows at the sting of beer in your nose. “Poor baby.”

“Dick.”

“Yeah, your dick.” His cheeky grin softens. “You’re the only woman for me,” Eddie says, cupping your face again. “I mean it. It’s hot as fuck that we were kinda prepositioned like that, but you’re it. I only want you.”

You pull him in for a kiss again, deeper this time as his tongue licks against yours. The zing of electricity that runs the length of your spine pushes you closer to Eddie.

“Yeah? Even if Elvira rocks up?” “She’s my hall pass, baby. Just like you and Keanu.” “Mmmm...okay.”

Eddie drags you in for another smiling kiss. You feel small in comparison to the breadth of his shoulders, the subtle bulk he carries - you love it. His hand rests on your neck as he presses up close to you, thigh slotted between yours where your skirt pulls tight across the plush part of your legs. The well-loved denim bunches and slips higher as Eddie crowds you against the brickwork - he’s amped up and wound tight too many kiss-less hours and the revelations of the last few minutes. It’s easy to match him, mirror the needy grasp of hands on denim to pull him close.

His kisses soothe any whisper of doubt or fear that haunted you since your shift started.

“You’re so fuckin’ sexy, princess. S’hot that you’re crazy for me,” he murmurs against the side of your mouth before diving in again for another filthier kiss.

Your nails graze the back of his head, fingers twisting and tugging in dark brown curls to draw that pleasured little noise from the back of Eddie’s throat and swallow it all for yourself. Hips shift against the meat of his thigh; silky lace on denim dark enough to mask the damp mark you’re bound to leave there.

Eddie’s mouth moves down to your neck, seeking out that spot that makes your jaw drop open and your lashes flutter. One big ringed hand dips lower to encourage your hips to roll and rock against him, propped against the wall with his lean strength holding you up. “That’s it, baby. I gotcha.”

It’s easy to forget you’re at work, where any one of your co-workers could come looking for you or Eddie, but when he’s touching you like this and making you burn for him you can’t spare the space in your brain to care. You’re sure that you should both be on some sort of formal warning by now after how many times you have been caught making out and groping each other on your breaks. You had given him a hand (and head) more than once on the clock; some nights were slow and called for a distraction.

And nights like this? When you need each other so desperately, they were something else entirely.

“Ed..” Your voice sounds whiny and pathetic in your own ears as you clutch at his shoulders.

“That’s me, doll,” he murmurs, “M’gonna make it up to you okay? Say sorry for making you jealous’n’sad.” His fingers slip up beneath the bunched hem of your skirt, touching the warm spot on the front of your underwear as his forehead presses against yours. “Can I? Just a little somethin’? Promise I’ll make your head all empty when we get home. Yeah?”

You’re a weak woman, rendered boneless and speechless as Eddie’s fingertips press there. With a lazy nod, dragging him back for a kiss, you roll your pelvis against his hand.

“That’s it.”

You feel his smile against your mouth as he pushes your underwear to the side, enough to feel how wet you are as his fingers press and dip and stroke. Eddie drags your slick gloss up, easing the friction as he circles his thumb.

“Oh Jesus,” you gasp, a shuddering breath as he pushes two fingers inside with ease. You hold him to you, clutching the back of his neck.

Eddie spares you a cocky comment in favour of kissing you again, stroking up inside you before beginning to fuck into you. He doesn’t stop his kisses when your jaw slackens, tongue meeting his with lazy strokes as blood rushes in your ears.

“That’s it, just let me take care of my girl.”

My girl. It gets you every time.

He feels the pulse and gush, a Pavlovian reaction, and presses deeper.

A slow pleasured smile spreads on your face as his fingers fill you. Eddie watches, eyes heavy-lidded, before moving back to kiss your neck.

Motormouth Munson keeps his title as he murmurs filth against your neck, punctuating praise and promises with sucking kisses and scrapes of teeth, soothed by his slick tongue.

“That’s my girl, I know what she likes. Need it so bad, don’t you?”

“Oh, you’re so fuckin’ soaked for me. Can feel you pullin’ me in, princess.”

“You been so worked up all night, huh? I’m gonna take such good care of you. Not leavin’ our bed tomorrow until you forget your own name. Gonna show you just how much I love you, baby.”

You choke down your moans, quietening yourself to breathy gasps and pleas in Eddie’s name. The fear of interruption, of getting caught, gets you both going.

Eddie hoists your thigh up to his hip, widening you more more more as his fingers find, then curl and press on your spongy spot.

Your moan is muffled against his shoulder, still too loud to be decent and louder still in Eddie’s ears.

“Fuck, there we go. Oh, you’re so fuckin’ close already, huh? Gonna come for me right here?” His voice is low and rough, words ground out as you feel him hard against your leg.

“Yeah,” you whimper, already shaking. “G-uh.. Oh god.” Your back arches away from the brick as his fingers speed up, thumb pressing hard circles in tandem. “Eddie… Fuck, fuckkk!”

He nods, speeding up just enough, just like he knows you need. Eddie squares his jaw as he listens to the sloppy wet sound of his fingers between your legs. Your jaw drops, brow creases; blissful agony. Eddie steals another kiss, soaking up the little noises you make when you’re close, the noises that make him throb in his jeans.

“Come on, sweetheart. Come for me.”

You leave the marks of your teeth on his leather-clad shoulder, biting back your moan as you obey. Eddie makes you come hard, making you drip over his silver rings. Eddie has to hold you up, keep you steady as your body convulses with absolute bliss. You hold on like he’s your life raft; he is your life raft - steady and sure when you falter or fall.

Eddie keeps you close, basking in your glow as you catch your breath. The hand on your thigh moves, cups and cradles the back of your head so you don’t bust it too hard against the wall.

“Fuck, baby. That was a big one.” He smiles when you smile, pliant and lazy, brushing kisses and praise against your hot cheek. He reaches to prop the stool beneath you to take your leaden weight.

“There she is, my pretty princess.” When you open your eyes, you can see the flush on his cheeks and the pulse of the vein in his neck.

You’re so utterly spoiled by this man. You kiss his lips, softer now as you come back to life, to earth. You’re shaky, breathless but you feel alive. You feel loved.

“That was… Full marks, no notes.”

Eddie raises a fist, triumphant like John Bender. “I know what my baby needs.”

He makes you giggle and bite your lip as he licks the taste of you from his fingers. “Sweet.”

You pass him your open beer to down as his prize, as you put yourself back together, sliding your ruined underwear off over your boots to use in lieu of a rag.

Eddie snatches them just as you consider trashing them (not that you were going to, they weren’t cheap). “Mine.” He’s breathless from sucking down the fizzy beer as tucks them into his pocket.

Your laugh is shaky but you don’t even fight him on it. It’s not the first pair he has pocketed mid-shift, nor will it be the last.

“Pervert.”

He shoves them against his nose for good measure, living up to the accusation. “Oh yeah. That’s the good shit.” He winks before shoving them back inside his leather jacket, right by his heart. A romantic pervert at least.

“That keep you going for the rest of the night? Until I get you home?” Eddie asks, before starting on the second beer; he shares a few sips with you.

“Mm, just about. You have promises to keep, rockstar,” you say, pulling him in with fingers hooked in his belt loops. “I wanna return the favour but ‘Chelle will kill both of us if we disappear again…”

“I’ll survive. Be strong.” He musters up faux courage as you press kisses to his face.

“My brave boy.”

Your arms wind around each other, hugging and holding your other half close.

“Y’feeling a bit better than earlier?” Eddie runs his hands up and down your back; his voice is sincere and sober.

“Mmhm. Much better. Not just ‘coz you made me come. But that did help.” You smile and tuck your head under his chin.

He hums a happy noise and presses his lips to your head. “Glad to be of cervix. I mean, service.”

“Ugh. Really?” You can feel him laughing, shaking with it.

“It’s a good one!” “Eddie, my love - what’s a cervix?” “It’s like…womb-adjacent.” You can hear his smugness. “Hmm, don’t need to know how you know that.” “Did biology three times.” “Oh. Okay.”

You weren’t sure what you were expecting. You tilt your head to look up at him and smile when he kisses you again.

“If I help you clean up later we can get fries on the way home. You’re going to need your strength, baby.”

His eyes glint with that look that makes your tummy flutter.

“Deal.”

Eddie cups your face and kisses you with a soft sweetness, something like a peach, that contrasts with his filthy promises of taking you apart and putting you back together later.

He helps you up from the stool, making sure your knees don’t buckle and your skirt is pulled down properly to cover up your lack of underwear.

Eddie makes you spin for him, admiring you with his kiss-bitten lip between his teeth. “Mm, one more time for me?”

You roll your eyes at him before tucking yourself under his arm.

“Love you.” Eddie pulls you in for one more peck before opening the back door for you.

“Love you more, rockstar.” You feel like a girl being walked to homeroom as he smooches one more kiss against your cheek.

As he backs away, not wanting to be the first to turn, Eddie points a finger at you, “Love you most.”

You roll your eyes, grinning anyway as he backs around the corner with the Bender-fist raised in the air again.

Eddie Munson might be a flirt, such a flirt, but he is all yours.

Thank you for reading! Likes, reblogs and comments are absolutely adored and cherished ❤️

Tags: @oneforthemunny @munsonmecrazy @parmawiolets

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takitafulily · 7 months

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Misadventures of the MCs #04

Taking the Besties home pt2.1: (OG)OB!MC

OB!MC: You got a lot of options: you can squeeze in my room, go pick a room in HoL, go crash in Purgatory Hall or go sleep at the castle. Take your pick.

TWST!Yuu: ...I'm staying with you. because you're my pseudo-sibling

WHB!MC: Same here, I still need to get used to your demons and I will not tolerate the awkward silence if I happen to be alone with them.

OB!MC: Purgatory Hall don't have demons.

WHB!MC: ...I'll stay here thanks *slightly traumatised of angels*

MM!MC: Your room looks nice, I'll stay with you.

LTD!MC: I don't mind where I go but if everyone is in OB!MC's room then I don't want to get lonely.

OB!MC: ...I'll go grab the sleeping bags then.

LTD!MC: Yay! MC slumber party!

OB!MC: Ok so just a couple things. Everyone's usually in their rooms with the exception of Asmodeus and Mammon who's usually out and Beel who's either in the kitchen or the gym. You need a secret password to Levi's room and don't touch anything in Satan's room, practically everything in there is cursed. Belphie can practically sleep through the end of the world unless it's me or Beel who wakes him up. Any questions?

TWST!Yuu: Who do I go to for video games?

OB!MC: That would be Levi. I'm not giving you the password but just tell him I sent you.

MM!MC: Are we allowed outside?

OB!MC: Hm, try to keep inside the house or have someone here with you to go out. The demon's here don't really appreciate humans. Diavolo's working on it.

WHB!MC: Where can I kick some angel ass?

OB!MC: ...No, we're trying to be at harmony with everyone.... but you're free to kick Michael's ass anytime.

WHB!MC: Sweet.

LTD!MC: Is there somewhere quiet where I can work?

OB!MC: ...I can grab some noise-proof headphones for you from Levi. Quiet isn't really a thing when anything go wrong at any second-

(Some time later)

OB!MC: ...

OB!MC: WHAT IN THE FUCKING UNIVERSE HAPPENED IN HERE????

(The room is on fire. LTD!MC is at Mammon's throat with a discarded laptop bag on the floor, WHB!MC cheering them on while Simeon is trying to separate the two. TWST!Yuu and Levi is having a screaming match whilst each holding a demondo [demon version of nintendo] controller with Solomon hijacking the game with magic. Lucifer's passed out on the floor with Diavolo slapping him to try wake him whilst Asmo is recording the entire thing like a reality tv show. Luke is crying. Belphie is hanging from the ceiling by one leg, somehow sleeping through the noise whilst Satan is sat on the floor looking at a book for ways to get Belphie down and MM!MC & Beel is sharing a popcorn bucket in the corner. Barbatos is nowhere to be seen.)

MM!MC: ...You left us for 5 minutes. Barbatos left at the 1 minutes mark.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me mc #obey me brothers #obey me dateables #whb #what in hell is bad #prettybusy what in “hell” is bad?#what in hell is bad mc #twst #twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst yuu #lovetodo #lovetodo mc #mystic messenger #mystic messenger mc

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rentsturner · 5 months

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A Place To Hide - A.T.

Alex turner x fem!reader

warnings: smut, oral (f receiving), kissing, tiny bit of dirty talk, teasing, begging and orgasm denial (if you squint), fluff before and after, established relationship

a/n: for my bestie @ohladymoon I hope you enjoy this. its pretty short, but I needed something to get me out of my slump.

You slowly wake up to sunlight filtering through the blinds, casting a warm glow over your sleeping boyfriend, who’s softly snoring away next to you. The alarm clock next to you says 9:00 AM, a nice lie in for a Sunday morning. You think about your plans for the day before remembering that you and Alex have decided on a chilled day to spend time with each other, having not seen him much this week due to his long hours at the studio recording a new album. A warm feeling settles in your chest at the thought of relaxing with Alex all day, watching films, reading books together and probably ordering a takeaway in the evening.

You yawn and stretch, trying taking care not to nudge Alex and wake him up, but you hear him mumble and groan, as if he can sense that you’ve awoken.

You roll over to face him, watching as his eyelashes flutter, his squint as his eyes adjust to the light and he rubs one hand over his face, reaching up to scratch his forehead as he yawns loudly. His eyes focus on you and a tired smile spreads over his face.

“Morning, love.”

“Morning, Al.” You smile at his voice, deep and husky, a little hoarse from all the singing he’s been doing at the studio recently. The bags under his eyes add to the picture, suggesting he may be working himself a little too hard. You make a mental note to ask him about it later, make sure he’s looking after himself.

His arm loops around your waist, tugging on your hip to pull you closer into his warmth. You snuggle into his chest, breathing in his musky scent, but Alex interrupts you, tugging on your hair softly and tilting your head upwards to look at him. His face splits into a sleepy grin before he moves in and brushes his lips against yours. It’s slow and a little needy, making up for the lost time over the past week, savouring the first kiss of the day. His tongue swipes your bottom lip and you open your mouth for him, whining as his tongue pushes past yours. His nose is pushing into your cheek and his soft hair is tickling your forehead, but you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

Alex’s grip tightens on your hip, fingers squeezing gently, before smoothing his hand over your ass cheeks, kneading the flesh slowly.

You giggle at his neediness and murmur against his lips. “Someone’s eager.”

Alex whines, but doesn’t deny it. “I’ve barely seen you all week, darling. It’s been too long.”

You roll your eyes and laugh, Alex takes the opportunity to begin kissing down your neck.

“Al, you had me Monday night, Wednesday night, and Thursday. Twice on Thursday, actually, if I remember correctly.”

“Not. Enough.” Alex huffs in between kisses. You smirk. As much as you love to tease him, you’ve missed him too - the quickies late at night, before bed, aren’t enough for you either. Alex tried his best, but he’s been so tired from recording recently that two rounds was the maximum he could go before he was snoring into the mattress. You understand. But now that he’s taking his time with you, worshipping you and marking up the skin on your neck, it's easy for you to get excited. You thread your fingers into his hair, soft and fluffy from sleep, and you tug on it gently, knowing how much Alex loves having his hair played with.

His kisses get more frantic and frequent as he moves from your neck, down your shoulder, kissing along your arm as you giggle at his actions. He takes your hand in his, maintaining your gaze with his own as he brings your knuckles to his lips and kisses them gently.

His gaze flits over your face and you blush at the intensity of his stare as he whispers softly “You’re so beautiful. Did you know?”

“No, Al, it’s not like you tell me everyday.” you laugh again, acting playful and nonchalant but secretly a little moved by his earnest admission.

“Well, that’s my job as your boyfriend. To tell you that you’re the most beautiful girl in the world.”

You lean in to brush your lips against his again, humming your thanks. You pull back before he can deepen the kiss and he whines, deep in his chest.

“And you - you’re the most handsome man in the world.”

“Obviously.” Alex rolls his eyes jokingly and you scoff and slap his chest lightly.

“The cockiest man in the world too, evidently.”

“Don’t you know it…”

Alex ducks his head down to continue his exploits on your neck, mouthing and kissing wetly at your skin, finding your sweet spot and nibbling on it, eliciting an unexpected moan from your throat. He takes your noises as a sign to continue as he manoeuvres himself so that he’s leaning over you, holding his weight up with his forearms on either side of your head. Slowly, he starts moving downwards, shuffling down your body, littering your breasts with open mouthed kisses through your thin sleep shirt. You moan as his hot mouth finds your peaked nipple, a rough palm rubbing the other one, but he moves on after a few moments, still moving south on his search for his goal. And you know exactly what his goal is.

Finally, he settles himself between your legs. You kick the blankets away, wanting your view of your handsome boyfriend eating you out to be unobstructed. Goosebumps appear along your bare skin, partly from the chill of the air, partly from the anticipation of what’s about to happen.

Alex pushes your legs apart, hooking a finger in your panties to pull them off smoothly, but he doesn’t touch your dripping centre yet. He bites your inner thigh and you yelp, in surprise and excitement, and he chuckles, then licks and sucks over the mark, soothing the sting. He continues on the opposite thigh, biting, nipping, licking, sucking, building you up until you feel like you’re gonna drip all over the sheets. You need his mouth on your cunt.

“Fuck…Al, don’t tease me.”

Alex just chuckles from his position between your legs, but he plants a final kiss on your inner thigh before pushing your legs apart even further. Your heart rate picks up, desperate to finally have his mouth where you want it. Alex’s thumbs reach to gently pull your lips apart, revealing how wet you've become over the last 15 minutes, your pink clit glistening like a jewel above your puffy hole. You hear him groan deeply as he takes you in, feel his hot breath fan out over your sensitive skin before finally, finally, he dives in.

He licks one long stripe up your slit, gathering your juices on his tongue and moaning as he tastes you, then he presses his lips to your clit and suckles. After all the teasing, the feel of his hot mouth lapping and sucking at you is like a glass of cool water on a hot day and you groan embarrassingly loudly. Your hands grasp at his hair again, fingers entwining with his soft strands, tugging and pulling. Alex hums in response against your clit, the vibrations going straight to your core and you moan yet again.

You grind your hips, moving slowly against Alex’s face, your clit rubbing against his nose while his tongue pushes easily into your hole. You peer down at Alex, gasping as you see his face contorted in pleasure, his eyes scrunched closed, his cheeks and chin glossy with your juices. You see his own hips grinding slowly against the mattress, chasing his own pleasure. It always amazes you how much eating you out turns him on, how many times he’s come in his pants like a 16 year old as his tongue laps away at you. He’s never ashamed though, often proud in fact. You’ll have to repay the favour later, most likely multiple times throughout the day.

You're jolted back to the present, a wave of adrenaline rolling through your blissful fog as Alex’s long finger pokes at your hole. He presses in just the tip, letting you feel him before pulling out again. He repeats the action, still suckling at your clit, never pushing in anymore than an inch, watching your cunt clench around nothing when he pulls back.

You tug on his hair more forcefully. “P-please, Al.”

Alex lifts his head up from your cunt momentarily, a lazy grin spreading over his face. Your juices glisten on his lips as he whispers “Please what, darling?”

You whine, too overwhelmed to think about stupid things like words, tugging harder on his hair.

“You know what I-- what I want.”

“Of course I do, I just like to hear you beg.” Alex laughs, pushing his finger in again just up to the tip, wiggling it a little to let you feel him, to tease you even more and you can’t cope anymore.

“Oh, fingers, Al, need your fingers, please, I-”

You groan loudly as he finally plunges his finger into you, up to the knuckle, moving it back and forth slowly, stroking your walls as he moves in and out. He laughs again at your reaction, then ducks his head back down to continue lapping at your clit, like a man starved.

There's a sharp pinch and then an even deeper roll of pleasure as Alex pushes a second finger into your hole. He curls his digits, pushing and stroking against your walls and your eyes roll back, the feeling of him so deep inside you coupled with his mouth against your clit enough to bring you close to the edge already.

“Al, I’m-”

“Not yet.” The words are murmured quietly but firmly against your skin, but you hear them just the same. You clench your fists, trying to hold back the wave of pleasure threatening to engulf you, trying to eke a few more moments of bliss before you cum.

Alex has other ideas though. He scissors his fingers, spreading them as far as they’ll go before pulling his fingers out a little, watching your hole gape and contract around his digits. The stretch you feel is practically euphoric and you whine and pant, so close to the edge, so ready to fall.

When Alex dips his head down one last time to lap at your open hole, you can’t hold back any longer. Your hips buck, a high pitched moan escaping from your lips, one hand yanking on Alex’s hair, pushing his head further into your cunt, the other hand grasping desperately at the bedsheets. The wave of pleasure rushes over you and your vision goes black for a split second, you feel a gush of wetness as you finally release. Alex eases you through your orgasm, fingers still stretching you, pumping in and out of your cunt gently, his tongue flicking at your clit. After a few moments, you tug on his hair, indicating to him that it's too much, too sensitive, too overwhelming, and he licks one last stripe up your cunt to clean you up before he finally pulls away.

He sits back on his heels, taking you in with a lazy grin. You’re boneless, lying back against the pillows, covered in a sheen of sweat, chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. Alex smooths his hands over your shaking legs, squeezing the trembling muscles gently, soothing you as you come back to earth.

“What a lovely breakfast that was.” Alex flops himself back onto the bed next to you, nuzzling into your chest and getting himself comfy.

“Wait, let me- let me help you.” You can feel his hard cock poking at your thigh, obviously having managed not to come in his pants this time.

Alex just hums against your skin, rubbing your sides with his large palms, his eyes fluttering shut. “Later. Let me nap.”

“Al, we literally just woke up.”

“We’ve got all day, baby, ‘s no rush. Am tired.”

He kisses your breasts tenderly, then rests his cheek against your chest - his favourite place to nap.

You huff. “Alright, just an hour though.”

Alex smiles and hums in agreement, and you smile too, allowing your eyes to close as you bask in the afterglow of your orgasm. You stroke Alex’s hair, holding his head close as the sound of your heartbeat lulls him to sleep. You aren’t far behind him, the warmth of your boyfriend draped over you and the comforting thought of the relaxing day ahead enough to send you to sleep in minutes.

Thanks for reading hope yous enjoyed tags: @martinipoliz @almluv @zayndrider @madnesstaking0ver@atticssmellgood@leafjoon @turnerside @turnertable @yourstartreatment

#alex turner x reader #arctic monkeys #Alex turner x fem!reader #Alex turner smut #Alex turner imagine #Alex turner fanfiction #my writing

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xxanaduwrites · 20 days

Text

much ado about nothing, major

i. bubbles & battle scars

gif creds @sakuragifs !

pairing: john “bucky” egan x (ofc) maude “blue” bluell

warnings: this story will contain mature themes, descriptions of injury, blood, sexual content, swearing, as well as, physical and mental illness. proceed with caution.

— i: mentions of injury, death, & puking. (pretty much just maude, bubbles, & croz being a dynamic trio, total bestie vibes — & then there’s john. he’s just there haha)

word count: 3.4k

there must be something or nothing at all

July 24, 1943 was the date — a date marked in the history books as the start of the Hamburg attacks, and in the journal of Nurse Maude Bluell, an inclusion of her very first introduction to one Major John Egan.

It was just past 0900 hours when the doors swung open to the infirmary rather unexpectedly. Bluell was organizing a new shipment of supplies, placing gauze, bandages, and wraps alike in their respective places, Lottie wa re-evaluating the health passes for the men who were flying today — confirming that they has passed inspection so to speak, and Q — well Q was reading newspaper cutouts of her favorite gossip columns, courtesy of her girlfriends back home. A red cherry sucker laid limply in her mouth as she took in the recent excepades of the Hollywood starlets she fawned over.

For Q, it was better for her to dive her nose into the latest gossip than worry about a certain Lieutenant she had tethered a liking too. A certain Lieutenant Curtis Biddick — "Curt" for short — who was scheduled to fly today. Q would deny the prospect of liking the New Yorker with the heavy accent, but it wasn't deniable to Lottie and Maude who had seen the Lieutenant saunter in every morning just to talk to her at the nurse's station. He used the need for a sucker to subside his "apparent" drops in blood sugar as his excuse of choice.

Lottie reprimanded her every time, claiming that they were only for the patients, not for the healthy airmen — hiding the sugary sweet lollipops from her colleague.

But, Lottie's attempts proved to be fruitless as Q would find them at every turn in every single hiding spot, opening a sucker of her own just to push Lottie's buttons.

And, she was doing that just now — not just to bother the blonde, but to also hold some sort of reminder of Biddick, that he was here with her as much as she was there with him — the cherry red sucker that mirrored the very same shade of her hair — tucked safely in the pocket of his flight uniform for a victory treat.

Alas — in other words — there wasn't much to do until their men came flooding back in waves.

Until there was.

The sound of a door swinging open broke the dead silence that pervaded the medical unit. The three women immediately dropped everything they were doing once they saw the sight of Colonel Harding sauntering in with Lieutenant Payne following suit — under the haven of a thick blanket, accompanied by the the arm of one of his fellow airmen.

Or well — Maude and Lottie did.

Susan was trying to consume the last line of the article in front of her as fast as she could. She didn't want to be left wondering what Bettie Davis was doing nowadays in the middle of assessing what was to come.

Lottie, being under the wing of Doctor Stover longer than the two nurses beside her, did not hesitate to meet Harding half way. "Good morning, Colonel'' she greeted, pressing her clip board of names close to her chest as a means of suppressing the shock of it all. It was rather unusual to see any of the airmen, let alone the Colonel until the conclusion of a mission, especially when every health pass had been confirmed and processed.

"Morning. Ladies," Harding replied to the three nurses present respectfully as he always did, curt, and to the point. "Lieutenant Payne is coming down with something and will no longer be navigating today's mission," he explained. "You ladies mind checking up on him?"

"Oh not at all, sir!" Lottie chirped, setting her clipboard down and immediately swinging into action. She nodded over at her colleagues, urging them to take the clearly pale and ill Lieutenant from the hold of the corporal present.

It didn't take long for Bluell and Q to get the Lieutenant situated and comfortable in a bed with brand new sheets — pressed and floral scented. Maude felt lucky and rather grateful that they had completed that task in time for such a situation to occur. Q was still quite busy with her cherry sucker while simultaneously taking the man's blood pressure, so Bluell decided to do the evaluating — not that she minded anyways. It was refreshing to see a man in front of her who wasn't bleeding out and barely coherent. She could already tell without really knowing that Payne would be just fine. That she wouldn't be losing another one of their men just yet, and that made the weight in her chest subside with the sweetest relief.

"Lieutenant Payne," Maude enunciated carefully, smiling fondly at the poor man in front of her. It was obvious from the sight in front of her that illness had racked his bones. The color was draining from his skin, a dull gray taking over, a line of sweat was creasing his brow, and his eyes drooped heavily doused with a glossy sheen. "Please, if you could tell me what seems to be going on. How are you feeling?"

"Well, quite shitty," he laughed dryly, yet a smile still managed to grace his features and prove to be rather contagious to Maude's expression in seconds flat. "I was fine. I mean, I thought I was. 'Twas until I was propped up ready to fly, feeling like I could hurl if I even moved a muscle. Major Egan shut that down real quick though. Got me a sub with Croz."

And there it was, a title attached to the name of a man Maude Bluell would have scorched into the back of her mind soon enough. Yet, now – now in that very moment, her unfamiliarity with that very same man would simply fly over her head. Instead, she would find a tying point to her patient in the traces of his explanation, one that made her eyes light up in genuine interest. "Lieutenant Crosby?" She asked while dropping the back of her hand to Payne's forehead, inspecting the extent of his temperature."

"Yuh-huh," he nodded

At the same time as Q announced "one-nineteen over seventy," but it really sounded like, "nun-eye-dee ova even-yee," with that sucker still tucked dedicatedly in her mouth.

Maude's hand dropped from Payne's forehead then, seeming pleased to know that he wasn't burning up as bad as she expected – definitely warm but more mildly speaking – and his blood pressure was relatively normal. The wheels were already turning in her head, coming to the conclusion that he merely had some sort of bug. But, she couldn't really come to one until Doctor Stover came to access the man himself.

"Lemme guess," Payne began, getting Maude's attention after she instructed Q to get the Lieutenant a glass of water. If she got his prognosis right, he would need to remain hydrated to subside the urge to vomit. "He's here quite often ain't –" Payne's words seemed to lodge in his throat then, his features twisting just the same.

The clear indication of his illness brought Nurse Bluell to flight mode and she picked up the bucket adjacent to his bed in mere seconds. "Let it out, Lieutenant," she urged as she situated it on his lap just in time for him to spill out the contents into the bin instead of his bed. He did just that, and Bluell did not hesitate to keep the bucket steady and rub his back in a soothing motion, hoping to ease the strain in his back from achy muscles.

Once he was done, he slumped back against the headboard – his eyes appearing glossier than they had before. He was spent, but that did not stop him from mumbling out his appreciation. "Thank you Nurse – Nurse?" He trailed off, a crease forming on his sweaty forehead with a curious sort of confusion.

"Bluell. Nurse Bluell," she introduced herself, moving the bucket off the bed, tying up the old one, and replacing it with a brand new one. "But you can just call me Maude."

"Maude. The powerful battler," a droopy smile spanned across his face, recalling the meaning behind the name of the nurse in front of him.

"Yes, but –" her cheeks dusted pink, and she looked away from him as she got rid of the previous trash close by. "Not me. All you – All you boys."

"Doubt that." Q brought over the water then and he thanked her kindly before taking a gentle sip. "Call me Bubbles."

"Pardon, Lieutenant?" Bluell stood straight then, completely taken aback by his sudden admission. She took a deep breath and sucked back the urge to laugh.

It wasn't uncommon by any means for nicknames to be a staple pass of courtesy and comradely around base. It served as an attempt to distinguish the tension of a deeply set reality and also comouflague identity to foreign forces. Like Charolette and Susan who replied to Lottie and Susie Q or just plain old Q. It was common knowledge. And she had found herself giving into such knowledge as she adjusted to the shortened form of her surname — replying to Blue more often than not. But, Bubbles. Bubbles? She hadn't heard something quite like that before.

"Bubbles. That's what they call me. Ain't heroic by any means. You can ask Croz the next time he's here, 'M sure he'll tell yuh," he elaborated.

A chuckle escaped her then, a genuine smile enveloping in her cheeks in a way that almost felt foreign. She couldn't remember the last time she smiled – really smiled since she'd arrived on base. "Quite heroic to me,." She flattened her hands across the edges of the mattress, making sure he was tucked into the sheets comfortably and then she fluffed up the back of his pillow for me good measure. "Should rest up now, Lieutenant. I'll be here if you need anything. Please don't hesitate to call us over," She affirmed, and in a sudden newfound sense of confidence or maybe it was simply just the comradery, she found herself adding, "that's an order, Bubbles."

Bubbles – still poorly, shivering, and pale as a ghost – managed a light laugh from his strained throat as Maude left the man be. "You got it, Maude"

Maude's spirits appeared to be more pleasant than usual as she busied herself in the next coming hours. Her conversation with Lieutenant Payne – or Bubbles if you will – subsided the nerves that usually rattled her in deep anticipation of what was to come. However, knowing that Lieutenant Crosby was navigating today still kept her worried.

Would his stomach be okay?

Would the natural herbs she recommended to brew in his tea ease him?

Those thoughts did not fail to plague her mind throughout the day, but she was grateful to have some distraction in the task of caring for Bubbles. She made sure to keep an eye on him as much as she could, so much so, that it started to concern Nurse Charlotte Reign and Susan Quinn who felt as if previous patterns from the young nurse were resurfacing. Patterns that were brought into light the very same day an airmen died in her arms for the very first time.

Yet, Maude felt fine – well, as fine as one could be in the circumstances placed upon her. She felt like she could breathe again the moment the boys returned from the Trondheim mission in the later afternoon. It had proved to be successful – and even more so in the hands of one Lieutenant Crosby who was currently at Bubble's bedside. With a chair situated over, he not only came to check on his best friend, but also report on the mission.

Maude was finishing up wrapping a flier's burn wounds adjacent to Lieutenant Payne when she unintentionally overheard the conversation at hand. "I mean the flak, it came in so hot. I didn't even think about it when I put it on. It – It must of froze, but then these chunks, they start rolling down my forehead, I think 'holy mackerel crosby, holy mackerel, you've been hit!"

"Of course you would narrate your own death." Bubbles laughed lightly at his friend's retelling.

She secured the wrap tightly and comfortably and practically repeated the earlier lines she had said to Bubbles. She was starting to become more and more accustomed to her script, finding it more and more natural as she annunciated each word within passing days.

"Well, I mean I could make overthinking into an Olympic sport." Lieutenant Crosby joked just as Maude appeared at Bubbles bedside. She smiled at the two men, acknowledging them as she refilled Payne's water cup without interrupting their conversation.

"I've been puking so much today, I'm starting to catch up to you. Ask Maude." He nodded to the nurse next to them.

"Evening Maude." Crosby greeted the nurse. "Hope Bubbles here ain't giving you too much flak.”

"No more than you have." She just about pulled the man's chain with that one, making Bubbles erupt in laughter.

"Hey, 'snot my fault, Nurse." Crosby held a hand to his chest as if she had wounded him with his words, but the knowing smirk on his face proved otherwise.

"Did you try the tea?" She asked Croz, handing the cup of water over to Bubbles. His color was starting to come back. He looked better than this morning but he still needed to stay hydrated if he was gonna get back in the skies anytime soon.

"Nah. Next time when I actually know I'm flying I will," he sent a look over to Bubbles, only pushing his friend's buttons for fun. "Thanks Bubbles."

"Anytime." He said laughing against the rim of his cup. He took one last sip before Maude placed it back on the side table for him.

It seemed like Croz wasn't gonna let that one slide so easily. "You know I washed my hair twice, I still can't get the smell out." He leaned over his friend, practically shoving his hair in the fellow Lieutenant's face."You wanna smell? Yeah, jump in."

"No. No!" Bubbles tensed up then.

"Yeah, Come on." Croz pushed on.

Maude couldn't help but laugh at the playful side of these men. Men who still managed to let their inner kid shine through all the horror and terror they had ensued in the skies.

"Get – get away. I will puke on you! Yuh gonna have to wash it out." Bubbles threatened, trying to push Croz away.

And then like a burst of unexpected flax, everything shifted.

For not only Croz who immediately stiffened back in his seat – putting on a serious and professional front, but for Maude who – for lack of her own sense of understanding – found herself freezing just the same, but for a whole other reason.

"There he is," a deep, firm, yet some-what carefree voice broke the ice within her. And there he was, one Major Egan looking and sounding like one of those Hollywood starlets in Q's paper clipping — just stepping out of a film in the cinema. And if he hadn't had a small cut just under his right eye, he could have passed as a man who hadn't just returned from an intense mission across the skies. Clean cut, pressed in his uniform, curls styled and gelled back to perfection, with his flight jacket wrapped around his arms. Arms that held a strong hand planted against the edge of the foot of Bubbles bed. "How you doing Bubbles?" He asked.

Maude hadn't realized she was staring at the six foot two bulk of a man in front of her until Bubbles spoke up. "Never better, sir."

"That's good." And then his eyes landed on her, so intense, she suddenly wondered if he had become even taller than he was a minute ago. Feeling caught, she looked away and busied herself with the water cup on Bubbles nightstand to give herself something to do. Would the Major report back to Doctor Stover that she was incompetent and unfit to take care of his men? Lucky for Maude, his gaze broke away from hers the moment she turned around. "And I was looking for you," He said to Croz.

The chair beneath Croz creaked in protest as he stood up to be at the Major's level. "I'm sorry, Major."

"What for?" Major Egan inquired loosely.

"I – I didn't give PRs the whole flight back, I messed up the rendezvous – "

"I know. I know. The radio silence really threw off those Jerries. It's that and hitting the deck." Egan affirmed. With the conversation becoming more detailed, Maude felt out of place and rather rude for overhearing. Yet, the next words that came out of the Major's mouth not only took Croz and Bubbles by surprise, but Maude too. Any previous contemplations seemed to dissipate the moment Egan said, “Now, Harding, he couldn't be more impressed by you so, I'm transferring you to Blakely's crew full time," and then, " Bubbles, you get better, we'll find you a new fort. And Croz, we gotta give you an actual nickname."

"They call him Bing back home." Bubbles added into the conversation just as Maude urged him to take another sip. "More?" He asked, and she simply nodded as she turned back into her previous position– her view of all three men near her resurfacing.

"Bing Crosby? That's just lazy, unless you can sing." Major Egan put in his two cents, and his eyes gleamed when he asked, "Can you sing?"

"I–I ca –" Croz tethered.

"Like a donkey." Bubbles confirmed with zero ounces of hesitation, truly on a roll at deflating Croz's ego today without letting an ounce of illness ruin the fun.

"No, no – not a note, sir."

"Ah, I'm no good either, but I'm loud and hell if you can commit with enough enthusiasm, it really don't matter." And this was when Maude would come to learn of the singing shenanigans that came with one Major Egan. If only she knew then that those shenanigans would very well start up something alright.

The shorter Lieutenant and the taller Major clapped hands then in parting – a shake of sealed establishments and confirmations, proving that they were on the same page. "I'll see you at the Club Croz. I'm buying," the one with height told him, referring to the same exact club Lottie and Q would be dragging Bluell against her will in just a few short hours. "Goodnight Bubbles."

"Sir."He croaked between sips and finally handed the cup back to Maude for good.

"Goodnight, sir." Croz bid farewell. When the Major was out of earshot could Maude breathe, and Croz seemed to be too because he was back to bantering as he commented, "He thinks my nickname is lazy."

Another patient called her over then, stealing her away from the two men she had found herself laughing along with, yet a part of her felt grateful for the sudden diversion – especially now, after the Major's interruption. She couldn't explain it – couldn't even compartmentalize it exactly, but something had shifted inside her the moment he had stepped foot into the infirmary. An instinctive feeling of sorts — awfully hard to pinpoint. It hurt her head too much trying to think about it, so much so, she momentarily wondered if she was coming down with the same exact virus as Bubbles.

She wasn't.

But, she knew it was something, but what was it?

That — she didn't know.

Yet, something deep inside her – against her better judgment – told her that she needed to know. So as Croz passed by and bid her a farewell of his own, she knew what she had to do. And when the girls pitched going out to the Club again tonight, practically begging her in their shared quarters — Lottie using Q's obvious need for a distraction with Curt's lack of a return — did she give into their demise.

Was there really much ado about one night on the town?

Lottie and Q wouldn't think so, and Major Egan – well he wouldn't think so either.

the way in which she is already whipped without "knowing" is so real.

+ Q — curt and susie got me giggling & kicking my feeties !!!

also, for important context purposes, the gifs in the beginning is how i imagine bucky diverting his gaze from eyeing miss. maude ;) sir, we all know you were LOOKING — respectfully!

p.s.: i love bubbles & croz so bad, ugh my HEART <3

ANYWAYS.....

more to come sooner than you think. lemme know what ya think so far? feedback is much appreciated as this is BRAND NEW. this is also my very FIRST historical-esce fic so my apologies if there is any inaccuracies, but it do be my own fiction twist anyways haha.

love ya'll a mil, smoochies!

— xanadu

tag list:

@rubberpsyche

@precious-little-scoundrel

@major-mads

@luminouslywriting

@justheretoreadthxxs

@karmasloverrr

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nctstar · 5 months

Text

the day that i met you i started dreaming.

You watched in satisfaction as the imprint of your lips stained a faded red colour, two semi-circles adorned by fine lines. The smell of strawberry wafted gently, so subtle you could have missed it. Yet, his voice rang in your ears. “You taste so sweet, baby. You always do.”

pairing: jungwoo x fem!reader

other members: johnny, mark (+his brother), haechan (only mentioned)

word count: 3k

genre: fluff, romance

warnings: lots of kissing, one small smutty scene, not very graphic (penetration and kissing only), profanity (one use of the f word, shit)

disclaimer: this is a fanfiction purely from my imagination. I don't know the nct members (including their family members!) and don't claim that they act like this in real life. I also do not condone any of the activity by any of the characters in this fic. Also, even though I was inspired by mark's real life doesn't mean this is accurate at all, please keep that in mind nobody sue me please.

a/n: this is for my bestie @neocty because I love her and there aren't enough jungwoo fics out there and she is struggling, so I did what any good friend would do <3 so everyone else please look away (and by that I mean like and reblog and send me requests)

∞

You had first met Jungwoo in your first year of university. Surrounded by girls, one of them having their entire torso turned towards him like she was ready to mount at any moment. Giggles floated past you as you walked by, books slipping in your arms from the sweat on your skin. The edges dug uncomfortably into your side as you tried hoisting them from side to side, trying to find that sweet spot that wouldn’t make you want to throw all of them only the floor, give up and go home.

“Hey.” You hadn’t heard it at first, too busy untangling your arms. But it suddenly felt silent, too silent now, the giggles now gone. You looked up, and the first thing you noticed was also the first thing you said.

“We have the same headphones.” Your voice was monotone, your breath heating up your cheeks underneath your mask.

He frowned, and the second thing you noticed was-

“I like whatever you’re wearing on your l-lips.” He stammered towards the end, probably now understanding how strange that sounded. But if he was embarrassed, he didn’t let on. His face erupted in a confident, self-assured smile, one hand effortlessly running through his dusty brown hair. His face was cute, like a puppy, or a fluffy cat. Soft features, smile lines and shallow dimples on one side of his face. “I’m not hitting on you. My sister runs a small business and sells makeup. I’m trying to get girls to buy her stuff. She’s saving up for a car because she hates public transport. I, personally, don’t mind it. Anyway. Um, you want a flyer?” Paper shuffled in his hands as you realised that he was handing out flyers, not what you had originally thought when you saw all those girls around him.

You fought the urge to say aww as you took a flyer tentatively. You didn’t wear makeup other than yes, your lipgloss, the same one you had brought from your home country since you didn’t really have time to shop in Korea in the few days you had been here already. Your eyes started scanning up and down the flyer while your mind pondered, who still uses flyers to advertise nowadays?

You shuffled from foot to foot, aware that he was still standing in front of you for some reason. “Your sister seems really talented.”

“She is. She also, looks a lot like me.” Jungwoo proceeded to shove the remaining flyers under his armpit, other hand flipping out his phone. In your peripheral vision, you watched one girl side eye you, hard, very possibly the one who had wanted to mount him a minute ago. “Oh, that’s okay, um- oh wow!” Your eyes widened. “You guys look so alike!”

“Right?” Strangers standing musing for more than a minute was odd enough, but what he did next was even weirder.

“The flyer I gave you has my number on it, by the way.”

You looked at his face, soft brown eyes full of hope that made your heart twinge slightly with delight. He was so adorable.

“What happened to ‘I’m not hitting on you’?”

“I’m really not? It’s because my sister lost her phone, and,” he grinned sheepishly, scratching the back of his head, “I want to help her earn money as soon as possible. Because if I don’t-“

He grabbed both your arms, making you flinch a little in surprise, but not pull away, eyebrows perked at his words.

“-she’s going to make me drive her to uni every day! Do you want that for me?” He whisper-shouted this last bit, and you shrugged his arms off.

“I don’t even know your name, so…”

“Kim Jungwoo. Jungwoo. Are you from America?”

“How could you tell?” You smiled, the English rolling off your tongue with ease. “I’m actually technically from Canada. Born and raised. Lived in New York for a while, so…close enough, I guess.”

“Oh! So is my roommate! His brother is auditioning for SM tomorrow, and he needs me to drive them both there-“

You laughed, this time your head naturally rocking back. “Are you the campus free uber or something, Kim Jungwoo?”

“No, he’s dating my sister. Mark’s brother, not him. Hey!” He pointed one finger out, almost comically, like a cartoon character. “You should date Mark.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re both from Canada. It just makes sense. He gets lonely sometimes. I think it’ll be good. Will you come with me?” He talked with the speed of someone on drugs, but with none of the fatigue or lack of lust for life. In fact, he was what you would expect if you asked anyone in the world to picture someone bright and cheery.

You told yourself that was the only reason you said yes that day. Never could you have known how far your relationship would end up growing. Like the first seeds someone carelessly tosses to the dirt in the cold season, another person notices and starts to water here and then, it was only a matter of time before something bloomed come summer.

∞

“We’re going to be late.”

“Oh, relax.” Jungwoo scoffed, but you eyed his nervous hands, shaking and fumbling with everything, from the gear stick to the AC controls. Behind you, Mark’s voice called out. “Did you want me to-“

“No, Mark. It’s fine.” You shared a knowing glance with the Canadian boy in the back seat, and Jungwoo noticed. He coughed, smiling like he knew something everyone else didn’t. “Shut up.” You hissed. He giggled louder, now catching the attention of Mark’s brother behind the driver’s seat, his eyes warily leaving his phone for only a second or two. “What’s so funny?”

Jungwoo finally pulls back the gear shift, that engine now grumbling to life. “I just think _ is too nice and pretty to not have a date for Christmas.” Puppy dog eyes now on you, shirt hanging loosely on his body, he turned and tapped you on the chin playfully. You rolled your eyes, groaning. “Oh my god. Tell me why I even started talking to you that day?”

“You said you reminded me of a puppy.” He pouted, making a tiny, perhaps insignificant part of you beam with something warmer, deeper that just friendship. For the past month, Jungwoo and you had been on a casual texting basis. If by casual, you meant every day, multiple times a day. Turns out you both just had a lot to talk about, or were drawn to each other, or…well, you didn’t want to think about it too much. All you knew is that for the first time since you had arrived here, or honestly, in your entire life, you felt like yourself. And that was enough for you. More than enough.

Now here you guys were, talking about dates for Christmas.

“Can we go, guys? Seriously.” You nodded aggressively and swatted at Jungwoo to start the car, while Mark leaned over, tapping you on the shoulder. Your body swayed as Jungwoo started driving as if he hadn’t driven in ten years. “Jungwoo told me your lips are pretty.”

“Uhm, excuse me!” Jungwoo braked hard at the lights, making the two men in the backseat yelp, Mark now flown back with a resounding dull thump. “Oh my god. Forget making it on time. I’m not sure we’ll make it there alive.” Concerned murmurs filled the car, but Jungwoo kept his foot on the accelerator, pushing through. “Oh relax, guys. And also, you agreed with me, Mark!”

“Well,” You pressed your head against the seat, hoping to avoid a future concussion. “I am wearing Min-ah’s lipgloss, so, it’s all thanks to her.” You shared a smile with Jungwoo, him glancing at you for far too long for someone on a busy road. Mark’s brother raised his arm in frustration. “Jungwoo! Please. I want to be an idol, I want to live!” A loud honk kick-started the car again, narrowly missing the lights changing from yellow to red at the busy intersection.

“Oh, Jin-hyung! That means you could probably advertise the glosses, right?” He slunk back into his seat, muttering something like they’re both mad. “Well, like, after you pass, of course.”

“I’m not sure I will.” Everyone in the car started overlapping with words of affirmations and enthusiastic praises, even yourself. “You’re so great! And you’ve practiced, what, like ten times? And that’s just in front of us.”

“Yeah, Hyung.” Mark’s hands patted Jin-hyung’s knee. “You’re the best singer I know.”

Jin-hyung turned to face Mark swiftly. “Can you come in with me?”

“Um, wait-“

“Please? I’m gonna shit myself if I go in alone. Please?”

Jungwoo leant in towards you, and you immediately placed one hand on his shoulder, steadying him. “Easy, tiger. You know you have to stay in your seat to drive, right?”

His eyes not leaving the road, he asked, “What are they talking about?”

“Jin-hyung’s asking Mark if he can come in with him. I’m not sure if that’s allowed…” You trailed off, watching the building tower over you, drizzles of rain prickling the wide front window. “Wow. Is this it?”

Jungwoo nodded, his attention now on the brothers in the back seat as he tried to park the car. The atmosphere was noticeably intense now, and you also weren’t sure how to react. He coughed. “We’re here. You guys alright?”

“No. Shit, I can’t do it. I can’t.” Jin-hyung’s face was one of pure terror, face pale and clammy, pit stains now forming on his shirt despite the cold blasts of air from the AC. You and Jungwoo shared a glance, the first one that wasn’t silly, rolling your eyes or smirking. “Well, a-are you sure?”

He was quiet, and you noticed light reflecting off the rearview mirror, Mark looking down and biting his lip, face marked with intense concentration. The tension in the car was suddenly thick, like the way a bread knife runs through a block of cold butter, and you swallowed. Finally, Mark spoke. “Okay, Hyung. I’ll come in with you.”

You watched as Jin-young’s chest retreated as he breathed a sigh of relief, cheeks still flushed and red. He tried not to let this relief show, but his voice cracked as he spoke softly. “Thanks, Min-hyung.”

After the two left the car, it was just you and Jungwoo. And, for the first time since you guys had met, it was quiet, maybe even a little awkward. Your hands flew towards the controls of the car, trying to fill the time, only to be met with Jungwoo’s skin on the back of his hand. Wow, he felt so soft. “Oh, sorry. Do you listen to music? I mean, should we?” Retreating your hand slowly, you let your eyes travel to his face.

“Kiss me.”

“What?” You didn’t even register, even as you replied. He looked equally as shocked, staring back at you blankly as if someone else had said what he had said. He let one arm slump over the back of his seat, and your heart starting pounding, your throat clammy. “Jungwoo…”

“I don’t know why I said that, sorry.”

“Wait, do you…But you wanted…me and Mark…”

“I know!” He brought both his palms to his face, rubbing his eyes so hard until it felt like you were seeing stars. “I know. That was so stupid. I can’t believe that just happened.”

You were silent, your emotions rattling inside you noisily, threatening to blow your cover. Your mouth opened and closed a few times, until you stared at his doe eyes, his cheeks now flushed pink with embarrassment. You leaned over, closing your eyes at one point before your lips met, soft, plush, a mix of his morning Americano and the strawberry lipbalm from Min-ah. Pulling away, you were met with the tiny intricacies of his face, his scent, the feeling of his shirt under your palm. The cologne he was wearing tickled your sinuses. Normally you hated that smell, but today…

“Was that okay?” His breath caressed the thin skin on your face, and you nodded almost involuntarily. “Your cologne is a bit strong for me, though.”

“My what?”

“Sorry.” You had no idea why you were so unfiltered with him, thoughts running free from the confines of your brain and into the air. “It’s just…men’s cologne makes me sneeze.”

“Oh baby, you are so cute.” His voice deepened and it felt like someone just released a dozen hungry butterflies loose in your stomach, beautiful and urgent. He chuckled, pressing a kiss now to the sides of your lips. “You’re cute when you blush. So cute.”

The sound of the car door opening made you both jump, both pulling away in the process, backs now snug against your own seats. “How did it-“ you started.

“Min-hyung is going to be an idol!” Jin-hyung’s face was sweaty and warm, his eyes puffy and red possibly from crying, but he wore an unapologetic smile on his face, like this was what he wanted all along, and the relief was simply euphoric.

∞

You pulled your hand away from inside his, trying to rid the clammy feeling off your palms. “What’s wrong?”

“Just nervous.” Jungwoo towered over you, wearing one of those denim fleece jackets you loved so much over a white t-shirt you had gifted him 2 weeks ago. “You look so yummy in white, Woo.” You wanted to cringe at that your own voice reverberating through your skull, but you felt warm and nice instead, like you had just sipped hot chocolate in this freezing weather. He knocked his ankle against yours, playfully pushing you to the side, only to drag you back with his arm looped around yours. “I’m right here. It’s okay.”

“Okay.” You nodded, but anxiety still stirred inside you, making you sick. “Plus, we can always leave if you want.”

“_! Jungwoo-hyung!” Mark looked small in his oversized puffer jacket, waving one arm over his head enthusiastically. Beside him was Johnny Suh, a trainee friend of Mark’s from Chicago, master of sarcasm and dad jokes. Walking up towards the two men, Jungwoo’s arms slipped away from yours, and you playfully patted Johnny on the arm. “Hey, you.”

“Hey, gorgeous. Wait, are you and Jungwoo a thing now?” You half-smiled, shivering against the blast of cold air that pierced through your stockings. You felt warmth spreading on the small of your back, and Jungwoo’s voice behind you. “Yeah, man.”

“I got him that.” You pointed at Jungwoo’s shirt, and he pulled you closer to your side, squeezing your hip firmly. “Yeah. So you can stop flirting with her now.”

“Damn, so you went out with her only to stop me from flirting? Red flag.” He raised his eyebrows comically, and you laughed, but Jungwoo didn’t seem very amused, not to you. He smiled and nodded, but you immediately knew he was uncomfortable. His lips were pale but plump, and you fought the urge to kiss him, biting your own bottom lip in reflex.

When you went inside, you wriggled your shoulders, shaking off your coat. “Hey, baby, you okay? You’re not jealous, are you?” Your tone was teasing, but you watched him carefully, at the way he avoided eye contact with you as he searched for an empty space on the coat rack. “I’m fine.” He muttered, and you pressed your lips together, fighting a giggle. Probably your toxic trait but he was so cute when he was sulky and pouty that you didn’t know how anyone took him seriously. “Woo, please. Don’t lie.”

“Okay!” He still wasn’t looking at you, smiling and nodding at passersby’s as he spoke. “I don’t care that he flirts with you, I really don’t, I really really…”

“Yes, you do.” You rested your weight on one hip, crossing your arms across your chest to look up at him.

“No, I don’t! I trust you.” The warm flame you had burning inside you erupted, replacing that tiny flame of anxiety, filling you with a sense of security, of love. I trust you.

“But you said I’m the funniest man you met, yet you keep laughing at his jokes.”

It was your turn laugh noisily in response, so much so that Mark noticed and joined in from afar, probably already a little tipsy and sharing random anecdotes from his life that no one asked for. You brushed snow off your boyfriend’s shoulders, watching as his nose and cheeks flushed red from the cold. “Cute. You’re so cute.”

“Well, I know that, but am I funny? I don’t care if your exes were hot or whatever, but funny?”

“First of all, you know you’re my first serious relationship. And secondly, Johnny’s humour is different. It’s more flirty, on the spot. You, well, you’re awkward and cute funny, you know? Plus,” you leaned in, intentionally letting the lipgloss on your lips smudge on his sensitive skin behind his ear, “you’re the only one I wanna kiss so bad right now.”

“WOAH! Get a room, you too!” You pulled away, noticing that the red on his cheeks were deeper, spreading all over his face. His eyes stared back at you almost blankly, and you pecked his cheek. “After this, okay? You can have all of me.”

∞

Chest heaving, you shut your eyes, wanting to savour every moment that had passed. Your bare skin shone with a thin layer of sweat, legs tangled in his. You felt him brush up against your neck, his voice vibrating in your ears. “Was that okay?” He asked as if he already knew the answer, pressing his bare body closer to you. You answered by bringing your face closer to his, and he sighed. “You taste like watermelon today. Lemon yesterday, and then strawberry on Tuesday.”

“Jungwoo, this isn’t what I wanted you to say after we had sex for the first time.”

“Sorry.” His eyes were flickering shut. “But you taste really good. Like, everywhere.”

“That’s so cute and kind of nasty too.” You scrunched your nose, and he chuckled. You hiked one leg above his thigh, needing him again. “Can I?”

He kissed you, sucking your lips, making you moan audibly and the tension in your body release as you sunk down on his length. “O-oh.” You whimpered as he began to thrust slowly into you, pressing your hips tight against his. “Fuck, yes.”

Your boobs against his bare chest, arms wrapped around his broad shoulders, you kissed him deeply, not wanting to lose contact. He groaned, thrusts getting sloppier as you felt yourself reach your own high for the second time.

∞

Your butt was getting sore from sitting on the hard surface of the stairs for hours, but you didn’t care. You watched him hang out with his friends, making them laugh so hard you could hear them from metres away. You held the envelope tight in your shaky hands, suddenly nervous. What if he didn’t like it?

“Hey, _.” The stairs creaked as you looked up, watching Johnny’s figure shrouded by the faded light of dusk. You shuffled over as he sat next to you, resting his arms over his knees. He looked tired, only hints of his sarcastic self shining through here and there. “You here to see the missus?”

“Johnny.” You rolled your eyes, but your stomach churned as you realised his eyes were on the envelope in his hands. You snatched it away to hide under your jacket, but it was obviously too late. “What’s that? Is that for him?”

“Yeah.” You had no idea where this self-consciousness suddenly was coming from. You were so proud of it, even this morning as you were driving here. Johnny was silent, matching you as you both sat, letting the distant sounds of the boys yelling fill the space between you for a few moments. Finally, he spoke.

“He loves you.” You swallowed, suddenly feeling tears well up in your eyes. When was the last time anyone had loved you like that? “So don’t worry. He’ll like it.” He patted your shoulder, and with a few thundering steps, he was gone.

As you stood in front of Jungwoo again, the same nervousness brewing in your stomach, you tried to remember those words.

“What? Who loves me? What guy?” Jungwoo looked confused, genuinely frowning and holding your hands in his. You furrowed your eyebrows, slowly coming out of your thoughts. “What?”

“You just said, ‘he loves you’.”

“Oh, oh…I said that out loud?” You removed one hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “Look, I, had this entire monologue prepared, but, um, I’m just a bit nervous.”

“Why?” He caressed your face, and you heard some ooos and cheers come from the right of you. Jungwoo rolled his eyes. “Lee Donghyuck, if you don’t-“

You watched Haechan give you both over-enthusiastic thumbs up with his hands, and Jungwoo gently guided you off the stage, his hand flush on the small of your back. “Just relax, baby. It’s just me. You’re making me nervous. Is something wrong?”

“No, nothing like that.” You shook your head just as you whipped out the envelope and thrust it sideways. Your heart felt like it was bursting out of your chest, under all the layers you were wearing. You blurted out. “I kissed the pages. I kissed them after putting on the lip balms and glosses and lipsticks I wore when I kissed you and you told me I tasted good. I know! That’s the kind of thing that sounds cute in theory, but absolutely psychotic in real life. And I just-“

Jungwoo shut you up with a kiss, the envelope grazing your side as he held you tight with his other arm. Goosebumps ran up your limbs, despite all your layers. Pulling away, he rubbed his nose against yours, making you break out in a smile, despite how corny it was. “You’re probably thinking about how corny this all is. But I love it. I love this. And I love you.”

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bluesadansey · 7 months

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Mark and Julian’s relationship makes me so insane the first time I read the books I don’t remember feeling that way about it? I think I payed most attention to Ty&Livvy + Ty&Jules + Livvy&Jules out of the dynamics so those stuck out most in my memory there are also shifts in what’s focused on most in LM vs Qoaad so that’s part of it but like… Mark and Julian is so funny and compelling to me because they do not understand each other at all! No scene encompasses how much Mark does not get Julian like the scene post whipping where Jules goes on that speal about how he wouldn’t want to live if Emma died and knows it’s not healthy but he might do what Malcolm did for Annabel if she did did and Mark is like “no my baby brother you are too good a person you would never ever do something like that ik you don’t mean any of it” had me in stitches ajdjdj as a reader who’s been in Jules’ head and knows that yes, he absolutely did mean all of that (codependent king love him for that <3). And then in LoS there’s a scene where Mark is tasked with watching the kids and minor things go wrong (well I mean someone does get injured. But for Shadowhunters that is still p minor) so he’s like “oh my god Julian would Never have let things go wrong like this he would know exactly what to do” bestie no… he wouldn’t have known better he would have just faked it till he made it and never let anyone know he was struggling to begin with lolz. That’s not even getting into the Emma thing which is just a whole cycle of them projecting their own feelings onto the other person Mark assuming Julian loves her platonically because he does and Julian assuming Mark’s would be in love with her because that’s normal existence to him usually I don’t care for set ups like that but this one is fun somehow.. and that scene after Emma and Jules argued and then fucked in that cottage so Jules comes back in a good mood and notices that Mark is constantly on edge around him because he’s accidentally been so snippy/cunty to him since the fake dating started and he’s like “oh have I been that bad?” And then tells Mark he’ll be cool now because he knows they weren’t really together Andjjd. also they’re both sooo bad at being teenage boys in completely different ways so the juxtaposition of their traumas is fun “I don’t understand how to be a teenage boy because I’ve been raised to be a “feral” (only using the word because they use it to describe Mark so many times in the books) creature and feel trapped by being among humans” vs “I don’t understand how to deal with teenage boy emotions or think through that aspect of life so I repress all of them while clinging to my responsible adult mask + using my political strategist wiles to get through life”. Idk why but I just really like their whole thing…

#this was in my drafts from a month ago time to post #tda #tsc #the dark artifices #julian blackthorn #mark blackthorn #julian and mark #s speaks #the blackthorns #the blackthorn family

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juneknight · 8 months

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I want to ride Steven so slow and tender til he cries fam, just make him beg all sweet and pretty, kiss his forehead and eyelids and nose and mouth with as much leisure as he reads his books, ya feel?

Same, bestie, same. Really I just want to torture him like:

You push down the waistband of your pants just enough to let them slip the rest of the way off your hips, puddling at your feet. The movement catches Steven's attention, his eyes glancing up from his book. His mouth drops, a perfect little O that is so comical you nearly laugh. Next go your panties.

"Steven?" you ask mildly.

He shuts his book so, so slowly. He hasn't marked his page. His eyes are too busy being glued to your legs, your thighs, the place between your legs. His voice is an octave higher than normal when he asks: "Yes, love?"

"Can you get hard for me?"

He blinks. "I--am well on the way."

You point to the sofa, loving the awkward way he shuffles to it, nearly bashing his shin against the coffee table in his eagerness. His cock is hard, already, straining against the fabric of his slacks. You motion to it, brow raised, and his hands scramble to unfasten his pants, to shift them down his thighs so that his cock--long and thick enough to be pleasing, flushed a shade darker than his natural tan--pops free.

"What's gotten into you?" he laughs a little as you climb onto his lap. Any other question fades when you turn until your back is facing him, one hand reaching between your legs to find his cock and feed it into your aching cunt. "Oh, gods. You're so wet, love. Been thinking about me?"

You hum, shifting as you take the stretch of him, your thighs shaking a little with effort. At last you have lowered yourself down to rest against his lap. Sighing in pleasure, you lean back against his chest, craning your head so that you can search for his mouth with your own, kissing him filthy and slow.

You reach for the remote and turn on the telly--find one of your shows. After a few moments of stillness, Steven clears his throat softly (as if you could have forgotten him when he feels like he's guts deep inside you). "Are we--?"

"We're gonna sit just like this," you say, reaching an arm back to pet through his curls. "You're just going to be one of my toys today, keeping me stretched and filling me up. Yeah?"

All the breath goes out of him, expressed shakily against your neck. His cock jerks inside you, and you grip his curls a little tighter, tugging in warning. "Y-yeah?"

You hum again. "Be good, keep still, and stay hard for me."

And not ten minutes later, he's a mess, whining into the nape of your neck, toes curling and uncurling against the wooden floors as he tries to distract himself. His hands grip your hips, and sometimes you find him trying to move you, softly sway you on his cock. You pull his curls sharply, thrilling at the throaty groan he gives.

"Still, baby. Stay still."

His cock jerks.

"Steven."

"Can't...can't help it," he whines, breaths coming shallow and hot against your shoulder. "Oh please let me move you, love, please please--"

"I love when you beg," you sigh happily. "Know why, baby?"

"Why?" Steven asks, obedient even as he strains to be good for you.

You grin, letting your head rest back against his shoulder, turning to kiss at his sweaty temple gently. "Because I love telling you no, baby."

#steven grant x reader #this is not what you wanted lmao #i am so sorry #i started something and it went off course like a train derailing

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t1ts-4-scattorcio · 8 months

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nat who basically lives at your house bc of her home life

Natalie moves into your house after being abused: Natalie Scatorccio x Reader Blurb + Headcanons

TRIGGER WARNING: Abuse, homophobia, self-destructive tendencies!

_____

Footsteps padded across the wooden floor strutting up to your side of the bed. You place your book on your dresser, meeting Natalie’s face. “How was your shower? I know you were tired after practice.” “It was ok,” she hummed “It would’ve been better if you were with me though.” she winked raising her eyebrow.

“Maybe next time” you giggled looking into her eyes.

You reach to grab her hand. “Kiss please?” you pout. She laughs at your antics leaning down to meet your mouth, it was soft and slowly began to deepen, breathing her in. Your hand reaches the back of her neck pulling her closer until she was hovering over you, both landing back in the softness of your pillows.

she moves to kiss your cheeks down your neck, a soft moan leaves your lips and you feel her smile against you. She pulls back pressing one more kiss breathless.

“Thank you for letting me be here, seriously” her face hardened.

Your gaze softened “of course babe,” tucking her blonde locks back, “I just..” she stammered, “it was really bad, like.. I think I would be dead by now if it weren’t for you.” closing her eyes, “he hated me so much and my mom didn’t do shit,” her voice tightened shaking her head willing the terrible scenarios from her mind.

You felt nauseous thinking about how terrible things were before, seeing bruises littered across her body while changing in the locker room, her once bright blue eyes slowly dull becoming more vacant after each passing day. Watching her get high under the bleachers before running to class just to help her get through the day.

Tears filled your eyes. “Look at me,” cupping and caressing her blochy pink cheeks, she opened her eyes, red with unshed tears. “I wouldn’t have it any other way Nat, I want you forever” you whispered. A watery laugh escaped her.

Your arms reach around her waist pulling her onto you, a comforting silence settled in the room.

Running your hands up her spine, an idea popped into your head, and a chuckle echoed through your chest, Nat sat up straddling you with a confused expression on her face. “What do you think you’re doing y/n?” eyebrows furrowing. You smirk and brace around her tightly, she gasps in surprise cackling as you blow raspberries into her neck.

---

You guys had to hide your relationship from her dad because he would kill you if he found out so you are only 100% besties around him and most people.

He sees you with his daughter and doesn’t know how to feel when you’re around as long as you stay out of his way he’s ok with it.

The first inklings that she had to move in with you were when she got drunk or high to the point where she's barely coherent it's scary to see, but it helps her numb her pain. It's very rare and you know her life at home is bad when she does start to spiral like that

The final straw was when Nat had snuck into your window covered in bruises, you held her in your arms that night, she eventually tired herself out from sobbing so hard. You promised yourself that she'd never ever be in that situation again. You helped hide the marks with foundation in the morning.

Your parents supported your relationship and respected that you both wanted it to be kind of a secret, she let her move into the spare room, bought her extra clothes if she needed them, and supported her as much as they supported you.

She got along so well with your parents, sometimes you'd find Nat sitting on the couch with your dad watching soccer matches with beers in their hands. She would help with chores without being told to do so, she didn't want to leech off of you. Even though they'd insist she relax at home.

She loves the privacy she has at your home. You give her the space she wants if she needs it and she feels at ease knowing her dad won't barge in her room any second.

She's so grateful for you <3 she doesn't have to walk on eggshells anymore or hide bruises with layers of clothes and makeup, she gets to show how much she loves you openly without any fear. she can finally be herself.

#yellowjackets #yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets headcanons #yellowjackets imagine #natalie scatorccio x reader #nat scatorccio #natalie scatorccio #yellowjackets blurbs #nat scatorccio x reader #nat scatorccio headcanons #natalie scatorccio blurbs #nat scatorccio blurbs #natalie scatorccio headcanons

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xx-lemon-drop-xx · 1 year

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Bestiiieeeee hiiiiiiii!!!!!

May I request some kink headcanons for Jack, Loki, Hermes, Poseidon, and Hades please? Thank youuuu!! Love you bestieeeee!!!

WORMYYYYY <3

Hi Bestie :3

Warnings: Spit kink, Thigh riding, knife kink, mentions of blood, Size kink, choking, bdsm, Degradation (Use of words such as whore, slut.) Gn reader, ooc ror characters.

Request: Yes.

Words: 1,211

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

Jack The Ripper

Jack is into some… Pretty intense shit I feel. Though that also comes with being a murder, I don't think he can be with someone that simply just likes vanilla.

He definitely has a knife kink. Let him drag that blade down your skin and watch the cripples of red that come to the surface. You look so much prettier in red, after all.

Let him lick the blood off of you, tongue dragging across all of the sensitive crooks and crannies of your body. He'll bite and suck pretty red marks all over your body, worshiping you thoroughly.

Jack has a thing for choking you during sex. His thrusts are hard and fast too, though he makes sure to reach all of the right places.

He enjoys when you crawl on top of him to initiate anything intimate. If he's buried in a book just gently push him back and crawl on top of him. Straddle his hips and trail your fingers over his chest, he'll be hooked onto you.

He does enjoy some bondage. He likes seeing you all tied up and pretty for him.

If you're being too loud he won't hesitate to shove his fingers down your throat and choke and gag you on them. Be good for this Pretty little Psycho, okay?

Loki

Another one that's into pretty intense shit.

Have you ever had sex while in the air before? Because with this God that's exactly what's going to happen.

You better be able to shut your mouth because he just loves doing it in public. If you get caught he isn't stopping later. He'll tease and call you names, showing you off to whoever caught you in the moment.

He's the definition of a sadist. You will be his cock sleeve. He's another one that enjoys choking the daylights out of you.

Every wonder what that long tongue of his can do? Nothing not sinful, I'll tell you that much. He's able to reach so deep into that hole of yours. If you're not squirming and writhing under him he's not stopping.

He's as Much of a Dom as he is a Bottom. Loki is the complete definition of a switch.

He's very whiny when he's a bottom. Be careful with him, he's sensitive. (Don't be careful with him.) Twist and pull his nipples, bite him, absolutely demolish him, he loves it.

He's very much into denying you of your orgasm as much as he's into you denying him of his orgasm.

Hermes

Has more vanilla than the rest but he can still be rough.

He likes hard slow thrusts that make you squirm. He does like going around 2-3 rounds before he's tired out and wants to sleep.

He will push your mouth open and spit into it. Praise him. Worship him. He is your God. He is your everything. Thank him for spitting on you. Thank him for calling you names.

Speaking of names, he will degrade you with a mixture of praise. Though, it is more degradation than praise.

Hands down the best at After care. He'll massage you, he'll get you drinks, he'll draw a bath for you. Just let him pamper you please, it's what he does after being so rough with you.

Please cock warm him. He enjoys being inside of you while reading or relaxing in general. Zeus usually has him running in circles, treat this gentleman well.

Not only is sex love making to him but it's also a type of stress relief for him. Hermes is always wound up in some way.

He will have quickies, though he does prefer being in the bedroom more than anything.

Poseidon

The King of domination. Be scared for your weeping hole, this God is huge in size.

Definitely has a size kink. He enjoys seeing your stomach bulge by the mere size of his cock. You'll catch him pressing down on the bulge or just caressing your stomach in general.

He's very heavy on degradation. If you can't take hard core heavy name calling its best not to be in a relationship with you.

Poseidon also likes cockwarming. He'll have you sitting on his cock for hours and everytime you wiggle even slightly he adds more time to it. It's best to just obey his orders.

Rough sex is always sex with him.

Rut on his thigh like a bitch in heat, or if he is in a punishing cruel mood perhaps he'll have you rut against his shoe.

Don't forget to lick it clean afterwards.

Definitely into Bdsm. He's not going to be nice to you, either. He thrusts hard and fast and your body will be sore in the morning. You will be leaving scratch marks on his back when he goes down on you.

But that's okay, Poseidon likes pain.

Hades

The King of Big dick himself?

Definitely has a size kink, have you seen the bulge in his pants? He probably has the biggest cock out of the gods, he loves seeing your stomach bulge as he bullies his cock inside of you.

Hades always makes you feel like your filled to the absolute brim, though that's because you literally are. But that's okay, he'll mold the shape of his cock into you so it'll be nice and comfortable.

Likes Cock warming. Hades always has loads of paperwork to do and with his brother's shenanigans on top of it he's stressed. Just be nice and sit on his cock for him while he completes paperwork, he'll reward you nicely afterwards.

Another one that's onboard with Thigh riding. He'll help you rut your hips against his thigh until you're whimpering and moaning into his shoulder limp as hell.

He's much more vanilla than most of the other gods, though that doesn't mean Hades doesn't like to be a bit experimental.

Bestie Bonus: Shiva

Another big dicked bitch.

Once again this man has a size kink, he likes seeing you struggling to take in his size. This man also has a pretty dick, you know all the lines on his body? They're on his dick too. And there's a large pretty vein that goes all the way down the back of it.

He's thicker than he is longer.

He has four arms for a good reason. The way he can maneuver you around is amazing, and it's never a struggle to get you in all the correct positions he wants you in.

He'll lay back and let you do whatever you want to him on the lazier nights, but don't get too cocky, he's still a Dom through and through.

He'll spit in your mouth and look cocky while doing it. Shiva also loves leaving marks all over your body.

He'll worship your thighs. Literally. Leaves bites, Hickey's, and all types of marks on your thighs.

If you have a voice kink it's your time to Shine. Shiva loves whispering in your ear during sex, telling you how much of a whore you are, or a slut you are. How beautiful you are under him like this.

#gn reader #x reader #record of ragnarok #ror shiva #ror poseidon #ror hades #ror heracles #ror jack the ripper #ror loki #ror smut

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myfanfic-urfantrash · 2 months

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i am back with a wholesome scenario for our boys! (shoutout to my bestie for helping me with this)

so we know that scent glands and biting bond marks can help alphas calm down, yeah? well, i think they also have little fidgets that they do if they feel too overwhelmed/stressed to bite or scent (nobody did this right?)

i think jing yuan and blade would be the types to stare at their partner’s hand bc they want it in their hair or to mess with their mate’s rings/jewelry, 100% can see jy as the one who hides in the crook of your neck or between your shoulder blades while hugging from behind

welt would keep touching his glasses or twisting his cane in his hand, and would probably want to lay his head in his mate’s lap to get his hair played with

luocha, we genuinely have no ideas for bc he probably would just be like “i want attention bc i don’t feel good” or just would suffer in silence until his scent soured so bad to the point his mate was like “dude wtf happened to you? you were fine like .2 seconds ago”

- messy nest + friendo

These are so cute! Messy nest tell friendo thank you for the ideas too and also welcome to hsr omegaverse hell :Dc

cw: omegaverse

I can't get the image of Blade and Jing Yuan being like "Plz pet" as they stare at their omegas hands!

Blade

Playing with his omegas hands while they sit on his lap or rest beside him. The combined warmth of their hands and the difference in how smooth their hands are compared to his is a nice stress reliever. He'll also do it slowly taking in each segment of their hands and following veins and or life lines of their palm.

If they wear any jewelry on their hands or wrists he's fiddling with it, spinning them around, gently tugging it.

Would like his omegas hands in his hair if he's going through a pretty rough time as his hands aching but he still wants some stimulation. Head massages are a definite yes, he might even purr quietly.

Jing Yuan

Uses his omega's lap the most out of any of them he loves how comfortable they are as he rests his head. Enjoys having them comb through his hair with their fingers or brush it for him, puts him to sleep every time. Scratch his scalp and he'll melt.

Definitely buries his face in between their shoulder blades as he uses them as his personal teddy bear. Though it's not as much as it would be if he had his face in their chest he can hear their heart and their breathing which soothes him.

If his omega has any jewelry on them, earrings, rings, necklaces, you name it he's playing with it between his fingers. Loves to gift them jewelry that has varying textures and moveable parts for this purpose, besides knowing it'll look great on his omega of course.

Welt

Another who likes to have his hair played with and rest his head on his omega's lap. Open to head massages and scratches, either will do but massages are best on the days he's got a headache.

Runs his hands over textured surfaces with dips and groves like his cane. Might even begin twirling a pen if he's got one or fiddling with the edges of any book he's reading for stimulation. Adjusts his glasses multiple times and even takes them off to clean invisible dust from them just so he has an excuse to mess with them even more.

Out of all of them he's the one who asks his omega for comfort only after trying to soothe himself first. Though his omega may figure out he needs comfort after seeing him adjust his glasses for the 5th time in 3 minutes.

Luocha

Doesn't want to bother his omega to comfort him as he's more used to looking after them rather than being looked after himself. Will try to resolve his discomfort by himself or keep it bottled up. His omega will be shocked when they catch his scent souring though so he let's them know pretty quickly after that.

It takes a bit of time but eventually he learns to be more open with his needs and let's his omega know, should they not be busy of course, that he needs some comfort. His omega is very willing to being used as a pillow by him or even hold him rather than be held.

Being held by his omega is a great source of comfort for him, if they brush through is hair during it it'll soothe him even more. He'll bury his face in their neck or chest and just listen to their rhythm.

#honkai star rail a/b/o #honkai star rail x reader #jing yuan x reader #blade x reader #welt x reader #luocha x reader

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elioslover · 6 months

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Preview: Grapejuice Part Four!

Premise: Harry has been pining over Y/n - his best friends slightly older sister - for as long as he can remember. But she still refuses to see him as anything other than her brothers goofy obnoxious bestie. This chapter is when the filth kicks!! - Em. xo

LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANNA BE ADDED TO THE TAGLIST

Grapejuice masterpost / Other writing

🍷

You are no longer willing to suffering behind your sunglasses, the sun sizzling down on your already hot skin, you feel like a roast on the spit, pathetically begging for Harry to take a hearty bite.

His face is masked by a denim baseball cap, one arm flexed behind his head like a pillow, and you wonder if he’s asleep at this point, using that as the push you needed to get up and cross over to his sunbed.

Bending down and leaning your body over his own, your bikini-clad breast brushing against his chest as you reach across him for a book-you couldn’t even recall the title of- resting next to his half empty lemonade on the side table.

“You’re kidding.” Harry informatively mumbles through the material.

“What?” You feign innocence, pressing further into him, your waist coming down on his stomach.

“You know exactly what you’re doing.” He continues, but lets you continue with your teasing.

“Getting my book?” You innocently ponder, taking much longer than necessary, letting your fingers dance along the cover, tapping along and further sticking his and your your skin together.

Harry removes his flexed arm from its position as a pillow, using his thumb to hook under and remove the cap from hiding his face.

He looks at you with a stern furrow of the brows, but his eyes are nothing but amused- and slightly turned on,

“You’re a little liar.”

With ease, Harry wraps his arms around your waist, giving you a good squeeze as he flips you over, causing you to snatch a hold of the novel just as you find yourself bent and folded over his lap, ass up in the air, your chest resting against his thighs,

“What the-” You try.

Now Harry has you, and you feel silly for thinking you could have ever gotten away with being so reckless, banking on the falseness of his lack of interest in your presence. He had lured you right in- leaving you laying across him, completely at his will.

Not that you would want to be anywhere else- you can’t help the embarrassment stirring at your stomach, ringing in your ears, you hope Harry doesn’t notice, and it seems he is far more focused on the sultriness of your arched back, your bikini bottoms becoming a frame for the ass cheeks that he quickly deems an artwork.

His fingers glide along the curve of your spine, satisfied with the shiver that shakes your body beneath his touch,

“You’re a naughty one, aren’t you?” He notes, letting his hands continue to trail along your curves.

He ponders for a moment, watching for each reaction you might let slip, hyper-focused on your shaky breaths, the rise and fall of your breasts against his legs. He needs more though- needs to hear you,

“I think it’s time you’re punished for all of this brattiness.”

“I’m not a brat.” You huff defensively for no reason but to protect your pride, still stuck and at his will.

“But you act like one.” He tuts factually, his hands gliding along your lower back before his palms finally settling on your ass cheeks, giving you the softest of pats.

“That’s the same-”

Harry refuses to let you finish, his tone dripping with discipline, his hands squeezing at your skin to ensure to cut you off and keep you focused on his filthy intentions,

“Keep reading that book.” He has you hooked like an unknowing fish, baiting you with the promise of leaving little red marks along your pillowing bum cheeks, “Since you found it so, so important…”

Your lip’s part with the desire of protest, letting the book loosen in your hand, waiting on it to finally part from your palms. But Harry is watching like a hawk- waiting for you to misbehave once more, knowing you far too well. Still, you rally all of the defiance you have to spare,

“I-”

“Read the book, Y/n.”

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deanstead · 2 years

Text

News

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Requested: yes, by @caritobbg

Summary: Dean’s first news about Y/N after their fallout is not good news and everything else is thrown out the window as they rush to her, hoping to make it in time.

Square Filled: Hurt Feelings for #resa.3kfiestabingo

Word Count: 2K+

Warnings: canon-typical mentions of blood

A/N: I changed the request a little based on how I was able to envision/write it so I hope that’s okay, do let me know what you think! Special thanks to bestie @mertes4cker <3 Feels great to write for Dean again after a long break!

DEAN WINCHESTER MASTERLIST

“So what, Dean? You’re telling me to give up?”

“I’m telling you to take a freaking step back and use your goddamn brains, Y/N! Instead of getting us all killed! Just like…”

Dean stopped and you looked up. He didn’t need to finish that sentence for you to know what he was going to say.

“Say it, Dean.”

“A stupid hunter is a dead hunter.”

“Like Mark? Or my parents? You know what, if I’m so stupid why do you bother keeping me around!” You turned to storm out.

“If you walk out that door, don’t you ever come back, you hear me, Y/N?”

You heard, but you kept walking.

You didn’t go back, and Dean didn’t call. Before you knew it, you’d been on the road for six months on your own, but everytime you thought about that night, or even the name Dean, it smarted and hurt. It hurt that the man you were in love with had said and thought those things about you.

But now, you glanced back down at the darkening pool of blood by your abdomen before you sunk to the ground.

You'd spent months tracking down the demon that had been responsible for the death of your parents but it seemed like an impossible task, until it wasn't. With no one's help, you'd managed to finally catch up to it except that you had absolutely no back up and no friends. And that's how you found yourself here now.

Dean had been right. You were an idiot.

You'd finally put that knife through the demon's heart, you'd killed it and exacted some form of revenge against him, but at what expense? You were now sitting in an abandoned building, leaning against a bunch of crates and probably going to die on your own - a realization that you'd had from the moment you'd first felt the knife the demon was carrying pierce through your skin while you fought with him, but it was already too late to back down. The price of revenge was death.

Maybe it was the blood loss as you sat there, cradling a wound in your side and feeling the blood leave your body that made you fumble for your phone with one hand and press the last number you could call.

Bobby glanced up at Dean who was wolfing down a burger while Sam sat next to him, flipping through a research book.

"Exactly how long are you boys planning to…"

Bobby was interrupted by his phone ringing and he headed to answer it, acutely aware that it was his personal cell.

"Bobby?" Your voice reached his ears immediately, the moment he'd answered the call and Bobby frowned.

"Y/N?" Bobby asked, not missing the way that Dean's eyes shot up, although he pretended that it didn't as he averted his eyes almost immediately, looking away from Bobby and looking around the room again.

Your voice was weak, which only made Bobby more concerned. "I did it. I killed the son of a bitch. But… I don't think I'm... going to make it. I just wanted… I wanted to t-tell you… thank you. Thank y-you for everything."

Bobby was the father figure you'd needed in the aftermath of losing your parents and honestly, you couldn't have asked for anything more.

"Where are you, Y/N? Give me something, coordinates, a city or building name. Give me something." Bobby said, his voice a little strained.

You mumbled the coordinates that you'd followed to get here in the first place. "You're not going to make it. Just… w-wanted you to know…" You took another breath, trying to breathe through the pain. "…that you were like a... a father to me."

"Listen, we're going to head there now. Alright?" Bobby said quietly.

He could hear the smile in your voice. "Listen, can you tell Dean and Sam something for me?" There was a pause before you continued. "Just tell Sam that... that he was the older brother I'd always d-dreamed to have. And tell... tell Dean that... I didn't mean anything I said and that I… I love him. Always have... always will." Your voice was coming out in short breaths.

Bobby's eyes flicked to the Winchesters. Sam was paying full attention like he'd already figured something was wrong, while Dean looked like he was trying not to look interested.

"We'll be right there, don't… You're going to be fine, kiddo."

Bobby hung up the phone and glanced back at the Winchesters. Sam was already on his feet. "That was Y/N, wasn't it? What's wrong?"

"Listen, she…"

Dean put the plate he was holding down with a thud and glanced up. "It's none of our business. I told her not to come back if she left and she left anyway. I'm not…"

"You stupid idiot!" Bobby let out the outburst, stunning both Dean and Sam. "Well, boohoo, I'm sorry your feelings were hurt! I thought I pounded this into you years ago! Family, Dean. Family. Right now, the girl who just confessed her dying love for you to me on the phone is alone and bleeding out somewhere so get off your ass and get moving!"

Dean froze. "What?"

Sam glanced at his older brother. "Come on, Dean. Let's go."

Throughout the whole journey towards the coordinates that you'd given Bobby, Dean was quiet. Sam didn't say anything, although he glanced at Dean a little more than he usually did.

Dean barely noticed, absolutely preoccupied with the thoughts flying around in his mind.

He'd never meant for you to disappear from their lives. Never. The fight still made his stomach churn with regret every time he thought about it - anytime he looked in his rearview mirror and saw the empty backseat. Or when he'd found something of yours somewhere in his car when he was least expecting it.

All he'd been trying to do was protect you, but he'd failed miserably at it, pushing you further away, hurting you by bringing up the death of a hunter at a hunt gone wrong when it hadn't been your fault, and now he didn't feel any better knowing that he had a part to play for the fact you were bleeding out by yourself somewhere.

The only consolation Dean got was that the coordinates were not far. They'd be able to get to you in time. He'd make sure of it.

Sam glanced at Dean again, but Dean just pressed harder on the accelerator, pushing Baby forward.

The place was quiet and empty when Dean pulled up outside the building all of ten minutes later.

Sam put a hand on his gun as he climbed out, but Dean was already heading in, Bobby bringing up the rear.

They didn't have a lot of time but that didn't mean they could be careless, so Dean glanced around cautiously even though he didn't slow down at all.

Thankfully, there were no surprises waiting for them and Dean spotted you almost immediately, your body slumped against one of the corners, your eyes closed.

"Y/N!"

Dean held his gun by his side but raced towards you, getting to his knees so he could check you out.

There was blood everywhere, spilling out of your abdomen, on the ground next to you, smeared across your hands from where you trying to apply pressure on your wound.

"Y/N, wake up. You with me? Y/N!" Dean raised his voice louder, his voice echoing against the walls as Sam and Bobby watched helplessly.

Your eyes fluttered open, and you paused, like you weren’t quite sure if you were seeing things.

A small smile fluttered across your face. “Huh.” You breathed, amused that you’d hallucinate about Dean right before you took your last breath.

“Y/N.” Dean’s breath came out like a sigh, a mix of relief that you were awake that was overshadowed with the worry that you really might not make it.

“Dean?” You felt the uncertainty that this was more than just a hallucination shake you.

Dean nodded. “It’s me. Alright? We’re going to…” Dean’s voice trailed off, his attention once again taken by the sheer amount of blood pooling out of your wound and he hastily pulled his jacket off, reaching forward to press his balled up jacket against your wound even though he knew it wouldn’t do much good.

“Dean, I… I…”

“Shh, it’s okay.” Dean reached for one of your hands and squeezed it. “You stay with me, alright? We’re gonna patch you up, you’re going to be fine.”

Dean could feel the fear start to pulsate through him, the real possibility of your life literally slipping through his fingers dangling right in front of him. “We gotta get you to a hospital.”

“Dean.” Sam interrupted for the first time, as he bent next to you, opposite from Dean.

“Hey squirt.” Sam said affectionately, putting a gentle hand against your head.

You gave him a small smile and Sam turned towards Dean now, talking in a low voice as if you couldn't hear every word. “We can’t move her. Bobby’s calling an ambulance as we speak but…”

Dean knew what Sam was telling him, in not so many words. Moving you could shorten whatever time you had left, but what else were they supposed to do?

Dean glanced back at you and then at Sam. “So what, we’re just going to let her bleed out?”

Sam didn’t answer and you turned to look back at Dean. “It’s… okay. D, I… I’m sorry.”

Dean frowned and Sam quietly excused himself, leaving you with Dean while he headed out towards Bobby.

“No, don’t do this, Y/N. Do not give up on me.” Dean said, his voice low but soft and even in the state you were in, you could hear his voice crack a little. “You’re supposed to continue to argue with me, fight with me, make up with me. Don’t leave me, Y/N.”

Your eyes welled up with tears. “I love you, D. Always have.” The energy leaked out of your voice. “Always will.” You whispered.

“No. No, Y/N. Please just a while longer. I haven’t told you I’m sorry. I haven’t told you I… I love you. Don’t…”

Your eyes fluttered shut, just as there was a flutter of wings.

“Dean.”

Dean’s head snapped back around. “Cas, do something. Anything. Now.”

Castiel didn’t say anything just reached down, putting his hand over your abdomen as his hand glowed.

Dean didn’t even have the presence of mind to snap at Castiel for just getting here, even though he'd been praying all the way down here.

As the glow from Castiel’s healing powers died down, Dean glanced back at you, where you lay motionless. It was too late. You…

Dean felt like he couldn’t breathe, the pressure on his chest as heavy as if he was lying under a car. He couldn’t…

Your fingers closed around a few of Dean’s again, your eyes opening slowly, just staring back at Dean.

“Y/N…” Dean exhaled your name.

You glanced at Castiel. “Cas.”

Castiel just gave you a small smile. “I’m glad I got here in time.”

You looked back at Dean, seeing a range of emotions swimming in those green eyes of his along with unmistakable tears and you sighed. “Dean, if you’re still mad, I…”

Dean just pushed himself forward, never mind the blood surrounding you both on the ground and on your clothes, pressing his lips against yours gently in a tender kiss, the tears slipping down his face and onto yours.

“D…” You whispered, as he pulled away now.

Dean just smiled gently. “As long as you’re back.” He whispered. “I need you to argue with me for a long time more.”

You smiled and nodded. “If you’ll have me.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.” Dean whispered back, before Sam and Bobby came running in again. Sam sighed in relief to see Castiel standing there, before he headed towards you and pulled you into a hug.

“Welcome back.” Sam whispered, his hand cradling the back of your head affectionately as Bobby just smiled at his kids.

THANK YOU FOR READING!! PLEASE TELL ME WHAT YOU THOUGHT OF THIS!!

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Character taglists are open!

#resa.3kfiestabingo #resa.fics #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #resanoona request #dean winchester oneshot #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester imagine #spn #supernatural #spn x reader #spn imagine #dean x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x y/n #spn x you #spn x y/n

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