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miclipse · 20 days

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⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ a spoiled brat.

pairing: rafayel x fem! reader

sypnosis: a little fish that got kidnapped by a princess whom he initially thought was nothing but a spoiled brat.

word count: 2.1k

cw: afab! reader, rafayel is a fish (literally), reader is a princess, fluff

notes: i have sooo many ideas about fishy rafayel that i might turn it into a series. comments appreciated !!

a spoiled brat.

that was what rafayel's initial impression of you was— nothing but those typical entitled and sadistic princesses that took home whatever she temporarily saw as beauty, only to dispose of it a few days later when the early excitement died down.

rafayel could spot you from miles away, your silhouette happily skipping across the sandy ground without a care in the world. he could see your hair dance along in the direction of the wind, the hem of your dress lifting up a little whenever you did a twirl.

it was a wonder how the crown that proudly sat atop of your head never fell off. the lustre from the sun shining down onto each of the tiny, fine diamonds embedded into your silver diadem nearly blinded rafayel with how bright and glittering it was.

despite living in the ocean his whole life, rafayel could tell from first glance that you were no ordinary girl he had stumbled across.

besides, which ordinary lady would think it was a great idea scooping up a fish she found in the ocean, a good few feet away from the shore? rafayel was almost certain he wouldn't be spotted by humans in such a secluded spot in the ocean, but you just had to prove him wrong, didn't you?

but he guessed he could take part of the blame. he should have stuck with the rest of the other fish instead of separating from them to explore all on his own. maybe then you would've picked another unfortunate fish instead of him to be your new plaything for the next two days.

you, who rafayel had nicknamed the 'lunatic', boldly stepped into the ocean with no fear about your expensive custom-made dress getting ruined and soaked in the process.

rafayel wanted to swim away before you caught sight of him, but you looked really big as compared to him, and he was a little afraid you might step on him by accident if he attempted to make his escape at that moment.

and so, to his dismay, you had decided that he, the lone fish in this ocean, would be your new plaything for the next few days.

when you scooped him into a small, flimsy and transparent plastic container, the fish was convinced that this was going to be his last few days on earth.

he was going to spend the last few moments of his life trapped in a spoiled princess's room. he imagined himself staring at the over-the-top pink walls that would burn his eyes and make him inwardly cringe, as well as counting the number of beads threaded into your branded bracelets and necklaces to pass time as he got imprisoned in a fishtank for the rest of his life.

however, rafayel was left in shock when you first stepped into your room with him in your hands. as you cautiously poured him from the initial takeaway container you scooped him into to an actual fishtank (with barely any room for one), he looked around your room from his new home.

there were no blaring pink walls that would sting his eyes, and no jewellery messily displayed on your vanity table for him to count the beads of to pass time.

for a princess, your room looked comparable to a commoner's.

but rafayel was certain that you had royal blood. he had seen how the red carpet stretched out down the endless tunnel of hallways, and how a few maids had curtsied and addressed you as 'your highness' the moment you walked past them with a smile on your lips.

the fish silently observed your room from his rather small home that was situated on top of your study table.

the walls were painted in a cool tone, not too blaring for the eyes and not too dull either. your vanity table, though was clear from any jewellery, had a few drawers below— which was where rafayel would assume you store your cosmetics and riches. your majestic looking queen-sized bed was covered with a simplistic and plain bedsheet, accompanied by a plethora of stuffed animals that he couldn't even see where the pillows were, if you even had any to begin with.

maybe you weren't what he initially thought you were.

though he wasn't sure what to make out of his new life out of the ocean, one thing was for sure.

you had more to you than met the eye, and rafayel wanted to learn more about you during the time he would be living on your study table.

saying rafayel's life as your new pet fish was ‘interesting’ would be a horrible understatement.

rafayel figured you would've thrown him back into the ocean within a day or two after you started getting bored of him. yet two months later, and here you were sitting by the table and peering into his tank as you rambled away about some upcoming charity event you had to attend tomorrow morning.

you had been keeping poor rafayel up in the middle of the night all the time ever since you got him.

going on and on about your life story that you tell in the most disorganised way possible, complaints about the issues and frustrations you met during the day, and the complicated political issues that he never seemed to understand nor care about (not that he needed to, he was nothing but a mere domestic pet now).

seriously, did you not have any humans to turn to that you had to resort to ranting to a fish you had kidnapped from its natural habitat and shoved into your tank without consent?

oh, but the biggest problem of them all—

you also seemed to have the misconception that fishes ate similar amounts of foods as humans.

whenever you were having tea break or late night supper, rafayel was having them too. a little unwillingly. you'd dump generous amounts of fish food in his tank before you continued stuffing up your cheeks with cake or whatever you were having.

the poor fish swore he gained a few pounds whilst he was held prisoner in your tank. but whenever he wouldn't eat the food you dumped in, you'd panic and ask the maids whether you should call a veterinarian over to give rafayel a checkup, thinking he was sick.

so all rafayel could do was to obediently eat the food you dumped into his tank, to save you and him some embarrassment of having to deal with the veterinarian breaking to you the news that you were overfeeding your poor pet fish.

you should consider yourself lucky that rafayel was the only fish you had kidnapped and dumped into your fishtank, since he was positive that any other fish would have died by now from the way you overfeed them.

there were days rafayel was seriously contemplating on jumping out of this stupid tank and just dying right then and there on your expensive carpet.

but he could never bring himself to. even though he was struggling to get used to life as a domestic pet fish, he wasn't that mean to add on to your already growing pile of stresses.

and besides, as much as he refused to admit it, he was starting to like this life.

as someone— or some fish, who had spent the entirety of his life in the ocean with almost zero human interaction, he had grown curious about them over the years.

of course it wasn't ideal that the price he had to pay to understand more about the human species was his freedom, but rafayel was a grateful fish.

he had heard plenty of horror stories about how many of his kind had been mistreated as domestic pets, especially when some random rich and spoilt kid comes scooping them out from their homes without permission (you included) nor basic knowledge on how to even take care of a fish.

they tended to keep the fish around for at most three days, dutily feeding the fish and often sitting in front of the fish tank and observing the fish in amazement. however, after a while, the humans began to get tired. or rather, bored by their new pet. they stopped feeding the fish and maintaining the tank's hygiene. more often than not, the fish end up passing on within a week or so.

rafayel saw himself as a very lucky fish because you were a responsible pet owner for the past two months.

albeit you didn't seem to grasp the concept that fish did not need to be fed as often as humans do, you still treated him relatively well.

as compared to the tank you poured him in two months ago when you first captured him, his tank was much more spacious now. and it was decorated with pebbles, aquatic plants, and also some pretty corals that he occasionally liked falling asleep in.

he hadn't even realised that you were finished rambling about how packed and overwhelming your schedule for tomorrow would be—

until your sigh broke rafayel out of his deep train of thoughts. he blinked at you curiously from in his fishtank, not having caught a single word from your half an hour long monologue.

“it's getting late, i should go to bed now.” you mumbled to him, gently dipping your index finger into the fishtank to caress rafayel's fins lovingly.

you looked… awfully sad today, rafayel noted.

rafayel may be a fish, but a fish had the ability to possess empathy too.

so instead of swimming away from your finger as how he normally would to reject your affection, rafayel instead nuzzled the top of his fishy head against the pad of your finger.

it was the least he could do to comfort you, right?

seeing how he was more open to receiving your affections today, you took it as a sign to gently stroke his scaly body, making sure to caress him delicately, as if you were handling a feather.

“goodnight, fifi.” you murmured to him lovingly, staring into rafayel's fishtank with a warm smile as you lifted your hand out of his tank, drying the water off by wiping your hand on your nightgown.

oh, rafayel forgot to mention that you named him fifi, of all names. he could still remember how you sat in front of his tank one night and started listing down random names to see which one suited him better, but that would be a story to reminisce about another time.

rafayel wordlessly watched as you stood up from the chair and made your way to your cozy queen-sized bed, and he slowly realised how very wrong he had been in the start.

during the two months rafayel had been living in your room, he started to see many more sides of you that he doubted anyone else got to see.

how you were an imperfect girl that was forced to be flawless in the eyes of the public. how lonely and exhausted you were living a life of royalty. how you more often than not fall asleep slumped over the study table with a pile of paperwork by your side, your sleeping face not too far away from rafayel's fishtank that he always feared you might accidentally slap his fishtank off the table in midst your deep slumber.

you were nothing near a spoiled brat. despite being lucky enough to be born into a royal family, you were always humble and kind. and you treated him with equally as much kindness as you would if he were a human.

rafayel's eyes lingered on your silhouette even after you turned off the room's lights. the only light source was from the lamp by your bedside table, illuminating just enough glow for him to see how you tucked yourself beneath the warm covers and laid your head on the soft pillow.

it didn't take long before your eyes closed, momentarily pulling you away from the harsh life of royalty and bringing you into the world of fantasy, where anything and everything was possible; the only limit being your imagination.

rafayel glanced at the clock on the wall. he figured it was finally time he got some rest. he inferred your rambles and complains tomorrow would last much longer than tonight, seeing as your schedule was packed to the brim.

it had become a daily routine for rafayel to take your jumbled up storytelling as his nightly bedtime story. he anticipated what kinds of interesting stories you might have in store for him tomorrow.

flapping his fins, rafayel swiftly swam into one of the corals in his fishtank, bubbles trailing behind his fins and floating up to the surface of the water before popping.

once the fish found a comfortable spot to snooze in for the night, he parked himself cozily in between the walls of the coral.

it didn't take long before his eyelids grew heavy and his vision turned blurry…

maybe being a princess’s pet fish was not too bad of a life as rafayel had initially thought it would be afterall.

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eros-kisser · 6 months

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˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ₊ ⊹ thinking of... your black cat boyfriend, wanderer!! }

(nsfw ahead, wanderer x gn!reader)

— wanderer, who insists he doesn't like you in the slightest, despite how red he gets whenever you tease him!! shhh, don't tell anyone this, but he secretly looooves praise! for someone who was thrown away, words of affirmation are like verbal ecstasy to him - just call him a "good boy" and he'll melt into your arms ♡♡

— wanderer, who gets jealous like it's second nature. don't blame the guy too much, he just can't stand it when you're with someone else other than him!! after all, he's the only one for you, and if necessary, he'll ensure that it'll stay that way...

— wanderer, whose ears are so sensitive, even at the slightest touch. as a puppet, he never really held any regard for them, they were just another tool to use to his advantage, yet somehow your heavenly touch makes it a sensual experience that, if he's in a good mood, will even ask you for.

— top!wanderer, who won't listen to you when you tell him to slow down. he's going too fast? oh, that's too bad, you'll just have to deal with it until he climaxes inside of you, his ropes of cum coating your insides. even the sounds that escape your lips fall onto deaf, flushed ears - he's too busy chasing his euphoria-filled high that he doesn't notice a word you say. don't get too upset, if you cry from the enhanced sensitivity, he'll only kiss your tears away, speaking through gritted teeth: "s'good for me, darling. i know you can take it. just a little more." he's weak to your tears, but even that won't sway his resolve.

— top!wanderer, who, if necessary, will hold your hands above your head and just pound you into the mattress harder, eliminating any chance of you squirming around. (and sometimes, if he's feeling a little kinky, he's even bought these handcuffs and blindfold for you to try... something about seeing you so displayed before him with such a clueless innocence of where he'll touch you next sends his heart racing.) the feeling of your tight walls around his dick is pure bliss, and he's drunk on the feeling, thrusting thoughtlessly, his only thoughts being how pretty you look, stuffed with his cock. ah, the expression on your face is so beautiful, it makes something hot and burning knot up inside of him. he kisses you once, twice, and his hips slow as his warm seed fills you up. "one more round, 'kay?"

— bottom!wanderer, who, to his horror, is always the first to cum, no matter the situation. even if he's giving head, your dick shoved up his throat and tears brimming in his eyes, his pants will always be stained with his fluids before yours are. he's so touch-starved it's concerning, and he'll yearn for your touch all the time, whether it be teasing his nipples or kissing a trail of bites down his neck.

— bottom!wanderer, who whines, loudly. even when you tell him to be quiet, or shove your fingers into his mouth so he can suck on them, his noises will always escape, accompanied with the lewd squelching of your bodies slamming together. he seems to moan without a care in the world, suddenly, often, quickly, and it's almost like music - a beautiful, beautiful music that he plays just for you. ♡♡

©eros-kisser. > if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging as it supports me a lot as a new blog! thank you !! this is my first time writing smut so please give me feedback if you have any :))

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cherrifire · 1 month

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Hi :D Logic behind the latest batch of cutie marks? if you feel like sharing :)

Hello everypony ^-^ It is cuie mark info dump again ^-^

Before we start, reminder that Grian + Tango do not have cutie marks because they are a hippogriff and a Kirin respectively. Non-pony creatures do not have cutie marks :)

Now that we've got that out of the way, let's get started!

Mumbo's Cutie Mark

I'm the proudest of this one because it'd simple but affective.

Mumbo's cutie mark is a tangled-up red wire which has been cut at the ends to expose the conductors. The wire is also particularly made to create an 'M' shape.

Similar to Impulse's cutie mark, Mumbo's is related to electricity for his investment in redstone. Electricity being the closest thing to it. That said, I gave Mumbo a wire because it is the baseline of all electricity. It connects everything together. From the power source and into whatever little machine or contraption you've built, wires are needed to keep it all powered! So I thought using it as a cutie mark would work really well for Mumbo. Sometimes he can just bring people together just like a wire does for electricity.

(And the little knot in the wire is just a little something to indicate Mumbo may be a bit of a mess)

Additionally, with the wire being in the shape of an 'M' it could stand for Mumbo while also being in the shape of a mustache too :)

Scar's Cutie Mark

Capitalism baby! Scar's cutie mark is of a red top hat next to a bag of bits (the currency in my little pony is called bits and are essentially gold coins).

At heart, Scar is a swindler. He's full of joy and whimsy sure, but he has a real talent for selling little trinkets to anypony who takes a look at his store front. In my head, Scar is essentially the flim and flam of this AU. He's a wandering salespony who shows up from time to time with things to sell from all across Equestria! That's where the little bag can be interpreted as a bag of coins, or a bag full of mystery items he's collected over the years.

Also, the top hat is there to represent Scar's salespony flair.

Joel's Cutie Mark

Joel's cutie mark is of a greek stone pillar and a chisel.

There are a couple of meanings to this one. The first one is pretty obvious, Joel loves to build! He's a fantastic builder with an eye for design. So I chose a greek pillar to represent one of my favourite builds of his, Stratos! But of course, a simple pillar can be used for lots of things and that's where the second meaning comes in. To hold things up! Joel holds himself up to on pretty high pedestal. He's very full of himself and I honestly can't blame him. Joel is great! So of course I had to represent his ego in his cutie mark somehow.

Jimmy's Cutie Mark

Jimmy's cutie mark is of a little canary bird. Another cutie mark with two meanings behind it!

First, is the obvious one. The canary in the coal mine. Misfortune will fall upon the canary to indicate to others that the journey may be too dangerous to continue. A bad luck charm if you will or a bad omen. And that's the surface meaning of his cutie mark that everypony knows it for. Jimmy is the poor clumsy pony in town who always seems to hurt himself before things go wrong.

However, there is a second meaning. Canary birds are also supposed to happiness and harmony. This is the main core of the cutie mark which gets over looked. Despite the bad implications of his cutie mark, it does not stop Jimmy from spreading joy wherever he goes. He's kind and joyous, keeping a positive attitude no matter what.

(I of course have a Ranchers plot point where Tango says this to Jimmy to cheer him up about his cutie mark one day. Tango, who has never had a cutie mark and does not understand their importance, says he doesn't see Jimmy as bad luck, but instead feels joy when Jimmy smiles no matter the situation. But that's a story for another day 🤭)

#cherri.speaks #trafficblr #Third Life x MLP #mumbo jumbo #gtwscar #smallishbeans #solidaritygaming #mclp

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ddejavvu · 2 years

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Lost and Found - Eddie Munson x Reader (Part 1) | Part 2

WC: 4.3K / navi / preview / request

Summary: Just your luck, you get dress coded on your first day at Hawkins High. You're already ridiculed for being the senior transfer, and now on top of that, the only shirt that covers you up in the lost and found belongs to the school freak.

Contents/Warnings: reader wears eddie's shirt, reader gets bullied, lots of teasing, slight innuendos/suggestive material

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

You must have set a new school record: You’ve only been attending Hawkins High for three hours, and you’ve already been dress coded. Apparently your shirt is too low-cut, even though it barely dips below your collarbones, and you were ordered to look through the lost-and-found for a suitable cover-up.

It could be worse, you muse, as you sort through the box of slightly aromatic, ratty, dusty clothes, they could have put it on your school record. Though, as a senior transferring to the school for one last year, you don’t care what’s on your record. They could hate you, for all you care, as long as you graduate. It’s not like you’ll ever have to deal with them again.

Unfortunately, it looks like everything in the box before you is either three sizes too big, or three sizes too small. The beaded tank top that you pull out near the bottom is even worse than your shirt, and you guarantee it wouldn’t go over well with faculty. There’s a winter coat in the mix, but summer still clogs the air with sticky heat, and you refuse to cover yourself up with that. After sorting through the bin for almost five minutes, the only thing even remotely suitable for you is a baseball tee that looks like it’s homemade.

It’s a white shirt with black sleeves, and a ring around the neck. It’s certainly interesting. There’s a red devil on the front, horns protruding eerily from its head, and weapons frame its face, ready for battle. Then two multifaceted dice are poised below the text, numbers etched into their faces.

The bold black text over the picture reads ‘HELLFIRE CLUB,’ and it stinks of what you’re suspicious is weed. You’re not sure what the Hellfire Club is, you presume it’s an underground band of some sort, but you don’t have time to figure it out. There’s a red stain on the chest, what you presume (and pray) is spaghetti sauce, but it’s your best bet in the lost and found bin, so you slip it on and hope that they’ll let you go without any further incident.

Thankfully it’s lunchtime, so when you slip out of the office mostly unnoticed, the shirt resting rather comfortably over your frame, you make a beeline for the cafeteria. You get stares, odd murmurs thrown about you as you walk down the line, people from packed tables squinting oddly at your shirt. You can’t really blame them, either, because you’d squint at it too if you’d seen it on someone else. You’re already silently resigning yourself to being The New Kid when you sit down on the ground, the tables either full or sending you funny glances when you try to sit down with them.

The first thing you do is pull out a walkman and headphones. They slip comfortably over your ears, shielding you from the disheartening whispers thrown around about you. You’re absolutely certain that this is going to damage your reputation, on Day One no less, but what are you supposed to do? Your only option is this stupid shirt: damned if you do, and damned if you don’t.

You bury yourself in your lunch, though it’s not appealing. Coleslaw oozes messily around your plate, and you try pushing your fries out of the way, but it’s too late. They’re soaked, and you’ve lost your appetite. You push the tray away from you, and it sits there sadly on the ground. You dig a book out from your backpack, letting your eyes skim over the words instead of the people around you.

“Eddie,” Dustin is out of breath when he sits down, too excited to inform his friend of the strange thing he’d managed to witness in the lunch line to think about breathing, “Eddie, the new kid’s wearing a Hellfire shirt!”

Eddie’s brows furrow, and he munches thoughtfully on a pretzel, “You’re out of your mind, Henderson.”

“No! No,” He shakes his head, “Honest! Look,” He points to you, the text over the devil on your shirt clear as day over your book, “I saw ‘em on my way back from class! They just walked in with it.” He lets out a breathy laugh, “Do you think it’s catching on? Like, you think there’s more than just us? Do you think there’s members all around the world?!”

“Dumbass,” Jeff swats at the back of Dustin’s head, “How could it be catching on, no one knows about it but us.”

“Maybe they-“ Dustin is eager to elaborate on his theory, prepared to make up some hair-brained theory as to how the transfer student could have heard about Hellfire outside of Hawkins, but Eddie’s eyes narrow as he stares at you, and he waves a hand at Dustin, effectively silencing the boy.

“There’s a stain there. On the left.” He recognizes the messy splotch, his face twisting in indignance, “That’s my shirt!”

“I thought you lost that one,” Mike frowns, his hair hanging over his face, “How’d she get it?”

“I dunno,” Eddie stands abruptly, tossing his bag of trail mix to the table and tugging his jacket determinedly around his shoulders, “But I’m gonna find out.”

In only ten minutes, you’re already getting used to the stares. They dishearten you every time, something inside of you sinking whenever someone points or peers at you. But apparently you’re just going to have to accept your spot in the school, your back forever pressed against the cafeteria wall as your tray rests on the floor. It’s only for one year, you reason, you can tough it out.

Loneliness seeps through the cold linoleum flooring, slightly sticky from god knows what, and raises goosebumps over your legs. You’re absolutely certain it would be more comfortable to sit out in the woods behind the school, and you’re only two seconds away from moving when a pair of shoes enters your vision, right in front of your crossed legs.

"Pray tell," The boy who crouches in front of you has dark eyes, his white sneakers creasing as he bounces on his thighs, "What are you doing in my shirt?"

You tug your headphones off of your ears as you stare up at him blankly, your eyes drifting over the pins adorning his jacket. You recognize a few bands, a curse word or two, but then he dips his head to meet your eyes, his question still in the air.

"Oh, I-" You flounder, tugging at the hem of the shirt nervously, "I'm really sorry. Is this yours? I didn't know."

"It's mine," He reaches up to flick the stain on the front, "That was from an unfortunate driving-while-eating incident."

You giggle at the thought, and his eyes snap back to yours, his grin ever-growing as you speak, "It was in the lost and found. They dress coded me," You recall exasperatedly, "It was the only thing I could find."

"Dress coded?" He cocks his head to the side, "Shit, what are you wearing underneath?"

The question has your eyes widening, your cheeks flaming, and your throat going dry. It’s not blatantly sexual, hell, you’re just wearing a low-cut top, but the boy in front of you is stunning, and the grin that he’s wearing is definitely suggestive.

“Um-” You start, raising the hem of his shirt slightly to reveal the pattern of your top, “It’s just-”

“I’m teasing,” He clarifies, pushing against your shoulder with one hand in a teasing gesture, “Don’t worry about it.” He plops down onto the floor in front of you, squinting distastefully at your soggy fries, “Normally I’d try to steal a few, but those look like they’d land me in the hospital.”

“I think I’ll have to start bringing lunch from home,” You sigh resignedly, “Unless the food here gets any better than this?”

“Not that I know of,” He shakes his head, brown frizzy curls bouncing around his face airily as he does so, “I bring my own food too.”

You hum in acknowledgement, only then realizing you don’t know his name.

“I’m Y/N, by the way,” You pipe up, holding out your hand for a shake. He stops perusing your discarded lunch and grins amusedly at you, the corners of his eyes crinkling at the expression.

“Eddie.” He offers, shaking your hand once, firmly, “You’re new, right?”

“Yeah,” You nod, glancing around at the few scattered pairs of eyes on you now that Eddie is sitting with you, “It’s a little harder than I thought it’d be.”

“That shirt probably isn't helping.” Eddie grimaces sympathetically, “We’re not exactly the kings of the school.

“We?” Your brows furrow in confusion.

“The Hellfire Club…?” He raises his eyebrows, tugging apart the chest of his jacket to reveal an identical shirt to yours, though sans-stain, “We sit over there.”

Your lips part slightly at the shock of seeing another shirt like the one you’re wearing, and you glance dazedly over to where he’s pointing. Five sets of eyes try appearing casual at your attention, two turning to each other and whispering as the other three bury themselves in a magazine one is holding.

“I didn’t realize it was a thing,” You admit, the corners of your lips curving up softly, “I figured it was, like, a band or something.”

“Well I’m in a band!” Eddie supplies eagerly, his face brightening. But he dims down after to appear more nonchalant, clearing his throat and schooling his face into a more neutral expression, “We’re a DnD party, though, Hellfire.”

“Oh, I’ve never played.” You admit sheepishly, “But it seems really cool!”

“Cool…?” Eddie quirks a brow at you, and the way that he’s staring at you has you questioning whether you’ve grown a third head, “DnD, like, Dungeons and Dragons.”

“Yeah,” You nod vehemently, “A lot of my friends back home played, but I never really got into it. It seemed really complicated.”

“It kind of is,” A smile grows over Eddie’s face, albeit a perplexed one, “But once you get the hang of it it’s fun. I.. I won’t lie, ‘cool’ is just about the last word I expected you to call our hobby.”

“I’ve sat in on a few sessions,” You recall, remembering the raucous shouts and heated battles that your friends got up to, “I usually just read fantasy novels, it was different watching one play out in real time.”

“Ooh, fantasy novels?” His face scrunches in good-natured disbelief, “You surprise me more and more every time you speak. Y’got any recommendations? I’m always looking for new inspiration for our campaigns.”

You suddenly remember the book in your lap, your pointer finger still lodged between the pages. You hastily hold it out to him, showcasing the cover, “This one’s good. The author’s from my old town,” You smile at the memory of her book signing, “It’s about a warrior prince who has to fight his way through hell, and he befriends a demon. She ends up helping him through,” You offer the book to Eddie with raised brows, “Anything you’d wanna borrow?”

“I don’t wanna steal it from you just yet,” He pokes carefully at your finger between the pages, “But let me know when you finish it, and I’ll be all over that.”

His tone is fascinating to you, an air of constant amusement around him that you’d never seen before. He seems to find interest in everything, and it feels amazing to be listened to by someone who cares so deeply about someone he’s never met before. You nod cheerily at him, some of the weight lifting from your chest at the knowledge that you’ve made a friend.

“Dude,” Dustin peers cautiously at you, his heart still racing from when you’d caught them staring only seconds before, “I think he’s smiling!”

“I can’t see,” Jeff huffs, a frown twisting over his face as he tries eyeing you two over Mike’s head, “You’re in the way, Wheeler.”

“Sor-ry,” Mike grumbles, ducking down, “She already caught us staring once, don’t push your luck.”

“Why is he still down there?” Dustin turns to his friends with an exaggerated furrow in his brows, “Do you think he’s coming back?”

“He’d better,” Gareth mumbles, flicking the tin lunchbox Eddie had left behind, “I’m not getting in trouble if a teacher finds this.”

“Oh, oh my god!” Dustin glances back over his shoulder one last time, seeing Eddie helping you to your feet, “They’re both coming over here!”

“So,” Eddie hums, lifting the edge of your lunch tray and letting it fall to the floor again with a smack, “There’s only, like, ten minutes of lunch left, but if I sit on this shitty floor for any longer,” He raps a knuckle against the linoleum, “I’m gonna be walking funny. Do you wanna come sit with me and my friends?”

This is it. This is your chance, your invitation into friendship. You try to appear casual, try pretending like your heart isn’t beating out of your chest at Eddie’s proposal, and you nod a little too eagerly.

“I’d love to,” You gush softly, “Thank you, Eddie.”

“Of course,” He laughs, the sound breathless and incredulous, “Just know, uh, this is kind of your last chance at having a reputation around here. It’s okay if you say no, I don’t wanna ruin your senior year of high school.”

“Why would you ruin it?” You tilt your head to the side and Eddie thinks you look rather akin to a confused puppy. It makes something stir in his chest, fondness creeping into his tone as he responds.

“Don’t you remember what I said earlier? We’re not very popular,” Eddie sighs lightly, trying to cover up the hint of insecurity that presents itself in his eyes, “We’re sort of the outcasts. I don’t want you to sign your popularity away before it can even get started.”

“I don’t want to be popular.” You decide right then and there, determination in the frown on your face, “Not if they make fun of you.”

You’re expecting a witty quip, already accustomed to the boy’s confident exterior. What surprises you, though, is the way that his mouth shuts, no words coming out of it as he gnaws thoughtfully on his lower lip. He studies you, his eyes boring into your own as his face hardens. You’re certain you’ve said something wrong, you’re worried that now you’ve messed things up, but then he smiles again, much softer this time. The expression is gentle, and shows off his shiny brown doe eyes, “You’re really something, aren’t you?”

“Hm?” You stare at him, equally entranced by his shift in character.

“You..” He starts, shaking his head bewilderedly, “A lot of the people here are raging assholes. Like, raging. But you’re.. You don’t seem like one.”

“I hope I’m not.” You huff out a laugh, “I don’t want to be a raging asshole.”

“Just another thing we have in common.” Eddie stands, breaking the stupor that had befallen you both and holding out his hand to help you off of the ground, “Now, we technically don’t have room at the table for you. But you can take my seat, I’ll stand for a bit.”

“No, no it’s okay!” You pull out of his grasp, eyes wide in fear of being a burden, “I can stand if I need to! I can take one for the team,” You assure him, bending over to pick up your tray and missing the way his eyes dart to your backside, “You just sat on the ground for me.

“Exactly,” He plucks the tray from your hands, dumping the cold, soggy food into a garbage can and leaving it with other used ones, “It’ll give me an opportunity to stretch my legs.” He swings one of his legs out to accentuate his point, the frayed strings of his jeans billowing in the rush of air against them.

“Only if you’re sure,” You let him lead you over to the table he’d pointed at earlier, his friends all watching you cautiously, “I really don’t want to put you out.”

“Nonsense.” He insists in that dramatic fashion of his, something you’re growing ever-fond of. His hands flit to your shoulders before you can even offer a polite wave to anyone sitting at the table, and he maneuvers you to plop down into his empty seat, “What’s mine is yours, Y/N.”

You’re sure he doesn’t mean it to be such an all-encompassing statement, but it makes your cheeks flare anyway. You direct your attention to his friends to stave off your bashfulness, not wanting him to see the way he gets to you after only knowing him for fifteen minutes.

One is smiling brightly at you, curls framing the boy’s face. Another two are sending cautious grins your way, seated opposite each other at the table. Then two others, decidedly older than the bunch, stare at you expressionless. The only thing they seem to have in common are their shirts, one of which you’re still wearing.

“Hello,” You offer lamely, waving sheepishly at them, “Uh, I’m Y/N, I’m new here.”

“And she likes DnD,” Eddie nearly cuts you off in his haste, “‘Thinks it’s ‘cool’.”

His statement draws a chuckle from his friends, and one of the younger-looking ones turns to you.

“I’m Dustin! I saw you earlier,” The curly-haired boy informs you, thankfully cheery in his greetings, “I couldn’t figure out why you were wearing a Hellfire shirt, so I told Eddie.”

“Oh,” You laugh awkwardly, glancing down at the stained shirt over your body, “I got dress-coded.”

“On your first day?” One of the older ones raises an eyebrow, “Tough luck. I’m, uh- Jeff, by the way. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” You nod thankfully at him, “Yeah,” You feel Eddie’s hands tighten around your shoulders and you tense slightly, “Teachers here are strict.”

“Tell me about it,” Eddie groans from above you, reaching over your shoulder to fasten his lunchbox shut and to grab a pretzel that he’d left behind, “I got caught smoking once and now I’m on some sort of watchlist.”

One of his friends, an older one on your left, snickers heartily at the story. Eddie apparently doesn’t appreciate it, though, because you watch him pelt the boy with a walnut in a matter of seconds.

You laugh incredulously as the boy flinches, and you’re almost worried that he’ll take offense to it. But you can’t tell, because Eddie leans over you, his hair tickling your face as he stares down at you amusedly. You glance up, return a guilty smile, Eddie motions to his bag of snack mix.

“Help yourself,” He offers, picking an almond out of the bag, “I did sort of throw away your lunch, I think it’s only fair you get some of mine.”

“I wasn’t gonna eat that anyways,” Your nose wrinkles at the mention of your soggy fries, “Don’t worry about it, Eddie.”

“Just take some,” He groans, jabbing a pretzel at your lips. It’s sloppy, because he can’t see what he’s doing, and he hits your chin. You giggle incredulously, squeak out a laugh, and take it from him. He pats your head as praise, “You’re too nice, you always decline shit from people.”

“How would you know?” You speak indignantly around your pretzel, “You barely know me!”

“And you’ve already tried weaseling your way out of favors twice,” He raises an eyebrow at you unimpressed, “Take some trail mix.”

You glance around at the others, traces of mirth on their faces. You realize that he must do this often, make a scene. You widen your eyes, plucking another pretzel from the bag, “Is he always this insistent with his snacks?”

“He never shares,” Dustin contradicts you, “‘Swear to god, I asked him for one M&M the other day: absolutely nothing.”

“You little shit,” Eddie’s hands leave your shoulders as he lunges for Dustin, locking the boy into place with an arm around the neck. You know it’s gentle, it’s not really hurting Dustin judging by the laughter spilling from the boy, and a soft smile creeps over your face. Eddie is clearly the heart of the group.

“Well hey,” One of the younger boys turns to you, his hair hanging around his face like a curtain, “If you’re keeping that shirt, you might as well use it. We actually need a sub for tomorrow night, if you want to play.”

“Oh,” You flounder at the request, everyone’s eyes flitting towards you, “Your DnD campaign? I don’t really know how to play.” You admit hesitantly, “I usually just watch.”

“That’s okay,” Eddie soothes you, letting go of Dustin to hover behind your chair again, patting your back, “We can take it slow. We don’t really need to get that much done tomorrow,” He promises, “I’ll help you out.”

“Are you sure? If it’s too much trouble, I can-” You stop dead in your tracks when Eddie raises a brow, nearly glaring at your attempt to brush off another kind gesture.

“... I mean, I’d love to.” You grin placatingly at him, a rush of warmth flooding through your chest at his approving nod.

“Perfect,” His words are punctuated by the ringing of the bell, signaling the end of lunch time, “What class do you have next?”

You dig your schedule out of your backpack as everyone stands, the paper already crumpled slightly, “Uh, O’Donnel?”

“Oh!” Eddie nods understandingly, “I’ve got her first. I’ll walk you, it’s over there.” He points lazily towards the left cafeteria door.

“Thank you,” You smile brightly at him and he returns it with a nod, taking your backpack from you before you could sling it over your shoulder. You look at him fondly, struck with incredulity at the kindness of a near-stranger, but he doesn’t let you prase him anymore, starting for the door.

“Bye,” You wave hurriedly at the few stragglers at your new table, all of them waving back just as kindly, “It was nice meeting you!”

“Nice meeting you, too.” One of them pipes up, a buffalo-print vest draped over his shoulders as his messy brown hair dips slightly into his forehead.

“See you tomorrow?” Dustin asks hopefully, gesturing towards your shirt.

“Yeah,” You nod brightly, “See you tomorrow!”

Eddie tugs you along as soon as you’re done talking, taking long steps across the floor you’d been unlucky enough to sit on for the majority of lunch. Even if it had only been for a few minutes, though, you’re happy to have sat with Eddie and his friends, because they made you feel welcome.

You voice this to him before you step through the doors of Ms/ O’Donnel’s class, lingering by the threshold, “Eddie?”

“Yeah?” He hums curiously, waiting to send you off to your next period.

“Thank you,” You sound like a broken record but you don’t care, filled with thankfulness for his kind gestures, “Really, I know I’ve said it a lot but I really mean it. If it weren’t for you I’d have sat on that stupid floor all period,” You remember the cold, unforgiving linoleum, “And- and now I get to learn how to play DnD!”

Your exuberance melts Eddie’s heart, not that he wants to admit it, and he feels his grin become permanent over his face. Anytime he looks at you, he’s certain it’ll be there.

“Don’t mention it,” He shuffles his feet, suddenly bashful under your shower of gratitude, “Seriously, I’m glad you’re not on the floor anymore.”

“Me too.” You giggle, taking a step back into the classroom as he starts walking towards his own class, “Oh, and Eddie?”

“Yeah?” He turns back to you with a raised brow.

“The shirt?” You tug it away from your chest and let it fall back again, “When should I give it back?”

“Tell you what,” A smirk crosses his face, sending a spark up your spine as he steps towards you again, “You come by my place tonight, and I’ll teach you the basics of DnD. You can bring that book, and maybe I’ll knock out a few chapters while you’re learning. Then maybe you can show me what’s under there,” Eddie quips, tugging at the shirt’s hem with narrowed eyes, “I’m dying to know what the faculty deemed inappropriate.”

His bold offer has your stomach twisting, and you feel your heart in your throat. Your prolonged silence seems to humble him, and uncertainty flashes through his eyes, “Unless of course, um, I was too forward, and you’re not interested, in which case I’ve probably totally misread this and ruined whatever was going on, and I’m so-”

“Eddie!” His rambling is ridiculously endearing to you, and you grip his hand before he can flee the scene, “I.. I’d like that.”

His shoulders slump in relief and you watch the tension drain from his figure, “Really? Shit, you had me scared there. What’s your address, sweetheart?”

Even though it’s sweeter and less bold than his statement only seconds before, the pet name has your legs weakening. You’re sure Eddie will catch you if you fall, though, he hasn’t known you for an hour and he’s already your savior.

“Here,” You grab a scrap of paper from the side pocket of your backpack, pulling a pencil out alongside it and scribbling your address down, “What time do you wanna meet?”

“I’ll pick you up at six,” Eddie promises, tucking the paper into the pocket of his jacket, “Does pizza sound good?”

“Pizza sounds perfect.” You grin, finally stepping into the classroom and absentmindedly searching for an empty seat, “See you then!”

Eddie stands in the hallway, watching wistfully as you pick out an empty seat in the back. Your book is on the desk in seconds, your nose buried intently in it as the class gets seated. The endearing behavior only warms the pit of Eddie’s stomach more, and he turns before he can ruin the situation by being caught staring. He tucks his head down, stalking bouncily off to his next class with a smile on his face, “See you then, Y/N.”

tags: @superflannel @the-jackals @lem0nb0iii @folkwhorexx @poltergeistsblog @annoylinglyaries @themidnaoftime @1800-fight-me @feminist-mina-harker @lost-my-sanity @silverrings-n-prettythings @imsouyya @solace-in-death @ellehcimmunson @hells--angel @yourfavoritefangirl @pepperquin @vonelle @justmyheart @fuschite @burnyourtrains @doctorwhatwhenandwhere @duuhrayliegh @clubfairy @tssf-imagines @eddieswifu @ajokeformur-ray @villain-friend @svr2003 @pameladawson @harrys-tittie @madslchambers @aedicn @crankgameplayssimp @justletmelivethanks @reidsog @eddielives1986

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

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withahappyrefrain · 9 months

Text

The 5 Times You Flirted With Bob + The 1 Time He Picked Up on It

Summary: You've fallen for your friend and have decided to drop some hints that you're flirting. Unfortunately, Bob doesn't realize that immediately.

Warnings: Language, no y/n, female reader, reader has a callsign (Honey)

Thank you to @dissonannce for this amazing idea. Thank you @acewritesfics for the dividers!

"Your hands are so big."

It took Bob a moment to register that you were in fact, talking to him.

"Oh! Um yeah. My ma made me do piano because she felt I was given the hands for them," Bob wiggled his fingers for extra effect, "Y'know, since they're so long."

Yes, they were quite long. It was one of the first things you noticed about Bob. Well, after you noticed his beautiful blue eyes, his endearing lopsided smile, the way he was so considerate of everyone else, so gentle, and yet there was an underlying confidence about him. He was sure of himself, but he didn't feel the need to brag.

Who could blame you for falling head over heels for him?

You flashed him a smile, hand reaching towards his.

"It's just, your hand is so much bigger than mine. See?" You propped his arm up, allowing your palm to press against his, both your fingers spread out to showcase the difference in size.

"See? My hand is so small compared to yours," You giggled. Bob looked down at your hands. Your breath hitched, your fingers twitching, dying to entwine with his.

"Yeah, there is quite a difference in size," Bob said, giving you that small smile you adored so much. That smile gave you the confidence to entwine your fingers with his.

"I think they fit pretty well together, see?" He wasn't letting go. He was still smiling as he looked down at your hand holding his.

Maybe this was finally it, he'd finally realized that you liked him and would-

"I'm gonna go get some more peanuts, can I get ya anything?"

You mustered up a smile, trying to cover up your disappointment, "I'll take a water. Thanks Robby."

As soon as he left, you shot Jake a dirty look, "Seresin, you said that shit would work!"

Jake, who had been pretending to play a game of pool with Bradley, Javy, and Mickey, put his hands up in defense, "Because it usually does! Everyone knows when a girl compares hand sizes it means she wants you!"

"Everyone but Bob apparently," Javy muttered.

"Maybe you just need to be more obvious?" Mickey suggested.

You sighed. You knew Bob. The last thing you wanted was to be so blunt it would overwhelm him. But at the same time, you two had been doing this whole 'friends but also more than that and I'm pretty sure we're flirting?' for the last month and you were getting annoyed with it how seemed to be going nowhere.

Perhaps Mickey was right. You were going to have to be a bit more obvious.

"Bee? You ready?" Bob called out from your living room. Bob's nickname of your callsign (Honey) always brought a smile to your face, as well as heat to your cheeks.

"Almost! Can I get your thoughts on this top?" You asked as you walked in.

"Yeah, I'm sure you look-oh." Bob's eyes widened as he took in the green top you were wearing.

It was tighter than the shirts you normally wore, highlighting your breasts. The fabric stopped right at the end of your rib cage, showing off your stomach and bringing attention to your high waisted jeans, which according to Jake "did wonders for your ass".

"What do you think?" You clasped your hands together, the action causing your breasts to stick out even further.

"Um the uh, the color is really great on you. B-brings out your eyes," Bob said, his eyes looking everywhere except you.

With the way his cheeks were bright red, it gave you confidence to step forward, your body now inches away from his, "I was hoping it would bring out something else besides my eyes Robby."

"I mean you you look great in everything you wear! So mission accomplished," Bob said quickly, his hands fidgeting with his car keys.

"Anything else you want to say about the outfit Robby? I really value your opinion." You stood on the tips of your toes, bringing your chest closer to Bob's face.

It was the first time since you walked in that his eyes landed on your chest. He cleared his throat, as if he was gathering up the courage to say it.

"You should grab a jacket, it's supposed to go down to the low sixties tonight," He said, turning around to head out the door.

God damn it.

You grabbed your phone, quickly texting the group.

Honey: We need to go to Plan C.

Rooster: Plan C?! You're saying the top didn't work?

Bagman: Dude, your tits were like out.

Rooster: Maybe they weren't out enough?

Coyote: If they were out any more, Honey would be getting a public indecency charge.

Phoenix: Maybe we shouldn't use clothes to express our feelings? Just a thought 🤦🏽

Fanboy: Yeah Nat, that's plan C.

Payback: Can we not blow up the group chat tonight? The finale of Insecure is on.

Your right leg bounced up and down in nervous anticipation, your eyes never leaving the entrance to the Hard Deck.

"You don't think this is too much, is it?" You asked your friends/coworkers.

"Nah, it'll be perfect!" Mickey reassured you.

"You and Bob are going to walk out of here holding hands by the end of the night, guarantee it," Jake commented as he lined up the balls for a round of pool.

It took all your strength not to jump out of your seat when you saw Bob walk in. His iridescent blue eyes scanned the room, landing on you. He always seemed to search for you, which had to be a sign that he wanted more, that he felt the same way as you did.

You greeted him with a smile, patting the empty seat next to him.

"Hey Robby! I got something for you!" You called out.

Bob just smiled as he sat down, "I see you got my signature: water and peanuts. Thanks Bee!"

You giggled, shaking your head, "Yes, but that's not just it. These are for you!"

Bob stared at the bouquet of flowers you were holding out for him.

"For me? These are for me?" He asked, eyes wide as saucers.

"Yes! I was just thinking, like why is giving guys flowers not a thing? Because it totally should be! And no one deserves these flowers more than you Robby," You explained, a hopeful smile adorning your face.

Bob gently took the bouquet, admiring each flower.

"I thought they would go well with your eyes-that's why a most of them are yellow," you explained, trying to hide how nervous you were.

"These are perfect," Bob said before leaning down to smell the flowers.

"Really? Each flower has a different meaning," you began, hoping that by fidgeting with your hands, you'd be able to conceal your nerves.

Bob simply smiled, his face the epitome of saccharine, "Oh, I already know."

Your breath hitched, "You do?"

Bob nodded, "Oh yeah! Alstroemerias symbolize support, sunflowers are for loyalty, and violets stand for intuition!"

He wasn't wrong. You couldn't tell if you were upset by that or the fact that Mickey forgot flowers can have more than one meaning.

Time for Plan D.

"Hey Robby! You ready to watch hot people make poor decisions?"

"Ready as I'll ever-that's new," Bob said softly, taking in the new loungewear you had on for your biweekly Love Island watch.

"Oh this? I think I got it last week," you said as you let Bob into your apartment, "It's super comfy and it has pockets!"

It also was cut low, showing off your cleavage, as well as the tops of your thigh.

"Yeah, the uh, color looks really good on you Bee," Bob commented. The compliment brought a smile to your face. He noticed you, noticed you were wearing something new, and seemed to be noticing your now exposed skin.

"Well, let's go see if these folks gain any common sense," you grabbed his hand, practically beaming at how your hand fit perfectly in his.

"Somehow I doubt it," Bob chuckled.

When he offered to hold the popcorn for while you two watched, you weren't disappointed. Sure, it meant you weren't able to hold his hand. But it did mean you could move closer to him, your thighs practically touching.

"I really hope he doesn't take her back," Bob muttered, his eyes glued to the screen.

"He will. They always do," you sighed, gently moving your head so it rested against one of his broad shoulders.

If your action had any effect on Bob, he didn't show it. Which was the problem.

"I would pick you in the recoupling," You revealed, hoping that would be enough, would finally be enough.

Bob smiled, placing a hand on your knee, "That's kind of you Bee. But I think friendship couples go against the nature of the show."

It took everything in you not to scream.

The rest of the night was just a typical Love Island watch night, no touching, no initiating, no declarations of love, and ending with Bob giving you a friendly hug goodbye.

With a sigh, you flopped onto your bed to check your messages.

Bagman: Bee, please tell us it worked and you're marking sweet love to baby on board

Phoenix: you're disgusting Seresin.

Rooster: why would they stop fucking just to text you Bagman?

Bagman: so we can pop some champagne to celebrate

Fanboy: Why the fuck is would we do that?

Coyote: It's a big event! Bee told Bob how she feels AND Bob's getting laid!

Payback: Can I just get one night of peace? Just one night?

You: No one's doing anything bc it didn't work!

Rooster: Not trying to be rude, but weren't you like almost naked?

Bagman: Like 52% nude.

Phoenix: JFC, we're going to plan E folks.

Coyote: Is that when we just lock them in a closet?

Bagman: No that's plan G

"Hey Bee!"

The cheerful, charming voice always brought a smile to your face.

"Hi Robby!" You greeted him with a hug, the comforting scent of rosemary filling your nostrils, "You smell really nice."

"Oh um thanks," A hand flew to the back of Bob's neck, a nervous (and also adorable) habit, "Wanted to smell nice after doing all those pushups out in the sun."

"Well it worked, you smell great," One of your hands reached up to the nape of his neck, toying with the hair that had curled at the end, "Look great too."

The tops of Bob's cheeks were now a dusty pink, "It's just a white Tshirt."

You took a step forward, placing your hands on his chest, "It's a good look Robby. Shows off your muscles. I like it on you.

Bob's lips parted, then promptly closed.

"Uh, t-thanks Bee." He had to know now that you were flirting with him. It was clear as day.

Feeling confident, your hands trailed down to his, grasping them, "We should dance!"

You didn't wait for Bob to answer, dragging him out to the middle of the floor. The sounds of Bradley covering Frankie Valli (begrudgingly, as apparently Jerry Lee Lewis was better) filled the bar.

After a few minutes, Bob's shoulders visibly relaxed, a smile spreading across his face. You threw your head back laughing as he bust out a goofy dance move.

Everyone thought Bob was shy, but that wasn't the case. He was observant, determined to get a good read on someone so he knew how to approach the situation accordingly. Once he was comfortable, his personality shined and he was a sweet, goofy man who you adored with all your heart.

The grin you had was so wide, your cheeks were beginning to hurt. But you couldn't stop, not when he was twirling you around.

"Where did you learn to dance like that?" You asked, having to say it into his ear so he could hear your voice above the music.

Bob shrugged, "I come from a big family. When you know you're going to a lot of weddings, knowing how to dance helps. That and my mom made me do cotillion."

"Well, all that practice paid off. You're a great dance partner Robby." You rested your chin against his broad chest, looking up to meet eyes bluer than the ocean.

In that moment, all you could do was focus on him. The way the corner of his eyes creased when he truly smiled, his comforting scent, his pink, thin lips that you were dying to feel on yours.

You wondered if he could hear your heart pounding, if he could feel it since your body was practically on his.

His hands found their way to your arms, gently placing themselves on your biceps. Was this it? It had to be.

So you stood on the tips of your toes, your lips now closer to his. Your eyes began to close as you leaned in to-

"I gotta go. Jake stuck his foot in his mouth again."

This wasn't a lie. But it still didn't dull your disappointment. Nor did it sedate your growing frustration at this whole situation.

Perhaps you didn't need Plan G or H Perhaps it was time to go with your original plan.

The next time you saw Bob was when Nat threw a small get together to celebrate the end of a long week.

He was wearing that damn white Tshirt again. Whenever he brought his cup of water to his mouth, the fabric stretched across his bicep.

Was he doing this on purpose? Did he know? Consciously or not, that you had fallen for him ever since you two first met at training?

Either way, you were tired of this game you had been playing for the past month.

"Are you sure about this?" Natasha asked.

You simply nodded before taking a shot of vodka. A little liquid courage was always nice.

"Nat, he's oblivious. Honestly, I don't know why we didn't do this the first time," Jake commented as he took the shot glass out of your hand.

"Because we didn't expect him to be that oblivious," Mickey countered.

"Well everyone, wish me luck." You walked out of the kitchen to find Bob still sitting on the couch, glass of water in hand.

His eyes met yours and he gave you a smile sweeter than honey. Your legs began to wobble, whether it was from that smile or your nerves, you couldn't say.

You walked over, making a beeline for him. Bob's eyes widened, his fingers gripping his cup. Your gaze was so intense.

"Hey Bee-oh!" Bob froze as you sat down in his lap, your thighs straddling his lithe hips.

"Hey Robby," your hands found his shoulders, fingers toying with the thin cotton fabric of his shirt.

"Uh Bee, there's um, there's a seat right there," Bob weakly pointed to the empty space next to him.

"I don't want that," you leaned forward, your forehead grazing his, "I want you Robby."

His eyes widened once more, as if he just saw an incoming train, "M-me?"

"Yes. Wanted you ever since that first day of training, when you offered me a mint," you told him.

"I uh, you looked sleepy and mint is known to wake you up and," Bob paused, "Did you say since the first day of training?"

You nodded, smiling at how you were able to see him process this information.

"The first day of training?" He repeated.

"Yes Bob, all you did was offer me a mint and smile to make me fall head over heels for ya," your fingers now went up to the back of his neck, twirling the curled ends of his hair, "Been trying to tell you that for the last month."

Bob opened his mouth, then promptly closed it, his brain still processing everything.

"You good Rob-" You never got to finish your sentence, as Bob decided right then was the best time to press his lips against yours.

His lips were soft and tasted faintly of vanilla, no doubt from the chapstick you watched him reapply. His touch was gentle, his thick fingers ghosting over your thighs, trailing up to your waist. Every move, no matter how small, made your heart fluttered.

Being so close to him, you could smell his aftershave, a mix of eucalyptus and sage. It was intoxicating and you wanted to be surrounded by it all the time, wanted to kiss him all the time.

When he broke away for air, you had to hold back a whimper, your lips desperate for more.

"FINALLY!"

You turned your head to find Bradley, along with Mickey, Natasha, Jake, Javy, and Reuben standing by the doorframe, in perfect view of you and Bob.

You smiled and opened your mouth, ready to make a quick remark. But Bob's fingers hooked underneath your chin, turning your head back to meet his lips again.

Unlike the first kiss, this one was bolder. His lips moved against yours with more confidence. Your whole body felt warm, as if you were floating. His hands now cupped your jawline, which is how you learned that Bob's hands practically covered your whole neck, a discovery that sent you reeling.

Your hands trailed up to his head, desperate to feel his sun kissed locks, desperate to find out if they were as soft as they looked. But just before you could, Bob broke away.

"What?" Anxiety came rushing back, dragging you away from Cloud Nine, your previous location. Did he regret it?

"Let's go."

He moved your body to the empty space on the couch, quickly getting up. You took his hands, allowing him to help you get up. You held onto one hand as he led you to the front door.

"Bob! What are you doing with my backseater?" Javy called out.

"Making up for lost time!"

Maybe you should be a little embarrassed. But how could you? You had finally kissed the man of your dreams, he kissed you back. He wanted to leave with you.

The sounds of the house party fainted, becoming soft background noise as you went outside.

Bob stopped, turning around to face you. Before you could get out a sound, his lips were on you again. His hands pulled your body to his, closing the gap in-between.

You couldn't help but moan when you felt his tongue slide against your bottom lip, immediately granting him entrance. You could hear Bob's breath hitch, his hands roaming across your body, touching your soft skin.

Abruptly, he pulled away, leaving you desperate for more.

"Why do you keep doing that?!"

"I...." His face was flushed, "I meant to ask you if if you drove yourself here. But you looked so kissable. You still do, God I just wanna kiss you again."

"I'm not stopping you Robby," you grinned, stepping towards him, "I'm not stopping you at all."

"Oh don't tell me that darlin'" his Midwestern upbringing laced his words. You always loved his accent, having found it not just unique but also comforting.

Somehow, despite his lips pressed against yours, Bob was able to walk you back to his car, your back meeting the cool metal.

His broad body draped over yours, his tongue frantically exploring your mouth. Your fingers reached up, grasping his hair. It was soft and much thicker than you expected.

What else was there about Bob you had yet to learn? What kind of toothpaste he used, if he drank tea or coffee in the morning. Did he fall asleep to rain sounds or silence? How many pillows were on his bed?

You wanted to know everything.

But right now, you just wanted to kiss Bob.

Your fingers tugged on his hair in an attempt to pull him closer to you. Despite his chest being pressed against yours, it wasn't enough. You wanted all of him.

"We should get in the car," He said, voice breathless. With the way his chest was rising, one would think he had just ran ten miles.

Bob began moving towards the driver's side of his truck, but he stopped, turning back to you.

"I want to take you home," He stated. It sounded like a confession with the way guilt laced his eyes.

"I would love that Robby."

Instead, he just shook his head, "But I shouldn't because you deserve more than that. You deserve a nice date, like that Italian restaurant we always pass when we go to Bradley's. You deserve that and flowers and a lovely dinner with candles and wine that's older than both of us-"

You cut him off by gently pecking his lips, "It's okay Bob. You could take me to that diner up the room from your place tomorrow morning and I'd be elated because I would be with you."

He shook his head, clearly torn between continuing to talk and continuing to kiss you, "But....it's the least I should do. I mean, after all the hints you were dropping. I thought you were just being friendly and-"

"What friend asks another friend to look at their chest?" You asked incredulously.

"I thought maybe we were just really close! That you were really comfortable around me, which is why I didn't think anything regarding what you wore when we watched Love Island. I mean," his face reddened, "I did think about it. Um I thought about it a lot and if you ever want to wear it again, I would not mind-"

"Bob," you stepped forward, placing your hands on his chest.

"I mean, you got me Violets! Those mean loyalty and devotion, as well as delicate love! And believe me I wanted to kiss you at the Hard Deck, but that is entirely Jake's fault-"

"As most things are."

"And looking back it was so obvious and I can't believe I didn't pick up on it," He paused, "Sorry, I I had to get that out. I can take you home or back to my place, whatever you want."

You giggled, delighted by his ramblings. You wanted to hear more of it.

"And now I just want to kiss you. Like all the time," He confessed, his lips moving closer to yours.

"Robby, get in the car," you instructed.

"Oh, um, okay," Bob unlocked his car, moving towards the driver seat.

"No Bob. Get in the back of the car," you instructed.

Bob's brows knitted together in confusion, "But then how will I drive-oh!"

Who knows if you were going to make it back to his place or yours. All you cared about was getting your lips and hands back on Bob Floyd.

#my writing #bob floyd x y/n #bob floyd x you #bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd imagine #robert bob floyd x you #robert bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd #robert bob floyd fluff #bob floyd fic #robert bob floyd fic #bob top gun #top gun bob #top gun maverick fanfiction #tgm fanfiction #robert floyd imagine #robert floyd x you #robert floyd x reader #robert floyd

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bimbobaggins69 · 11 months

Text

Heavy metal parking lot

eddie munson x metal head fem!reader

summary: the last thing you ever expected was to hit it off with a cute guy at a Judas Priest concert, but stranger things have happened.

warnings: smut ahead, 18+ mdni, all porn almost no plot, no use of y/n, use of pet names (baby, princess, pretty girl etc.), smoking the devils lettuce, queer!eddie, reader has nipple piercings, dom/sub dynamics, some degradation (but eddie is still a simp), oral (m receiving), unprotected rough p in v sex (this is fantasy, pls don’t have unprotected sex with strangers), anal play (f receiving).

notes: just a dirty little one shot. Sorry, there will not be a part two. Thank you to my loves: @corrodedcorpses @take-everything-you-can & @stwritings for beta reading <3 also, blame @bettyfrommars & @xxhellfiregirlxx for me posting this filth on our holy day.

wc: 3.1k

This was a stupid idea, stupid, stupid.

But here you are driving to the market square arena, an hour away from home, dead in the middle of a scorching summer, alone.

You had this elaborate plan for months, ever since you had bought your tickets. You and your best friend Abbee were supposed to meet up at your house, get ready together, go grab some fuel and head to the show a little early to hang out in the parking lot. That unfortunately is not what ended up happening. You got ready…alone, got food…alone and now you’re making the trip…alone.

You can’t be mad at your friend, she did have a very valid excuse as to why she was unable to make it. You couldn’t help but to kick yourself for never being brave enough to put yourself out there and make new friends, but maybe that would change, maybe you would meet some cool people at the show, some Judas Priest fans seemed like the perfect place to start.

The parking lot was jam packed, men and women in all their Judas Priest or Dokken gear, huge banners held out by adoring fans, beer cans littering the lot as weed and cigarette smoke fog the air.

You finally find parking, lucky for you it seems to be the last vacant spot left, squeezed tight between a red Camaro and a brown van.

Better than nothing.

As you exit your black Honda accord, your eyes flit around the lot, taking in your surroundings as you breathe in the second hand smoke.

“Hey, sick shirt.” A gruff voice towards your left calls out. You look around for a second before your eyes finally land on the owner of the van that's parked beside you.

His brown wavy hair gets hit by a gust of wind, as if he’s some hot character in one of those movies that the protagonist is in love with. You definitely couldn’t deny his hotness.

His defenders of the faith shirt clung to his body like a second skin, tight dark blue jeans with a chain adorned his lower half along with white reeboks.

He had a joint perched between his two fingers as his eyes so boldly roamed your figure.

“Thanks,” you acknowledge, as you look down at your ‘hell bent for leather’ cropped tee, and then back up to meet his mischievous smirk. “Yours is sick, too.” You offer in a small but cheerful voice.

“You wanna come smoke with me, pretty girl?” He offers as the mischievous smile grows, like the grinch who stole Christmas.

“Uhh, sure why not?” You shrug, making your way over to the van and taking a seat on the red carpeted floor, your leather mini skirt now hiked up around the very tops of your thighs while your knee high boots hang out the side, resting on the asphalt below you.

“I’m Eddie.” He declares while holding out a heavily ringed hand, you stare it down ogling between his tattoos, black nail polish and badass rings before placing your smaller appendage in his, you firmly shake it with a smile as you tell him your name.

“Beautiful name for a beautiful girl.” He chuckles before handing you the dwindling joint.

You take a hit while you let your eyes wander around the inside of his van, a small mattress set up with a colorful quilt and two fluffy pillows.

Various magazines of the adult variety scrawled out haphazardly on the floor, a six pack of coors lite sits on the arm rest between the two front seats, breaking the law plays out through the speakers.

Though he’s not the only one, various Judas Priest songs could be heard throughout the stadium's parking lot.

You take another small hit, passing back the now roach sized spliff. Eddie tries to get one more hit out of it, before throwing it to the ground and stepping on it with the toe of his white sneaker.

You begin to stand up with the thought that you may be overstaying your welcome, until Eddie puts a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“You don’t have to go.” The shy look on his face is the total antithesis of his cocky demeanor when he’d first waved you over.

“Oh, okay. I just didn’t want to bother or keep you from anything.” Your response is sheepish and the butterflies in your belly begin fluttering about.

“No baby, you're not keeping me from anything.” He beams.

That damn nickname pulls you in like a moth to a flame.

As you and Eddie grow better acquainted, you realize he has a great sense of humor with an eccentric personality.

You also quickly realize you want him.

Right here in the back of his van.

You scoot your bottom back, making your way into the wagon. The action causes your skirt to roll up further along your thighs, giving Eddie the perfect glimpse of your black panties.

You swing your feet inside and hoist yourself up on your knees, as graceful as possible. Waddling over like a penguin to fling yourself onto the mattress that had your mind wandering.

“Mmm, this is comfy.” You sigh with a smile, as your body burrows deeper into the off white sheets below you.

Eddie stands just outside the door, eyes unable to leave your backside as you cuddle up on his mattress. ‘Was this his lucky day?’ This shit never happens to him, well at least not with women anyway. He had better luck with men.

Thank you Judas Priest, Eddie silently prays to the sky before making his way inside the vehicle to join you.

“Mind if I lay down?” He mumbles, surprising you with his close proximity.

You turn, catching onto the puppy dog eyes he’s giving you; and what you would give to have them looking down at you while he’s working your body to sweet, sweet release.

“No, of course not.” You giggle, the sound makes Eddie twitch in his pants.

He was a sweet boy, you wanted him to fucking ruin you.

You turn to face him, head resting on your palm as you pat the spot beside you.

The sly smirk returns as he lays down on the mattress, mirroring your exact position.

“Shows gonna start in an hour.” He whispers, scooting in closer towards you, the warmth radiating off of his skin is sending your body into a frenzy.

“Mm, so we have enough time?” You sweetly whisper back.

“Enough time for what? Hmm?” Your bodies continue to gravitate together, a pull so strong it was like you were both attached to magnets.

“For this..” you breathily huff before straddling Eddie’s waist, the groan that escapes him makes your eyes roll back, as you begin to grind down on his growing erection.

“Fuck” Eddie hisses as his hands fall to your waist, now controlling your movements and pulling you in deeper.

“That’s exactly what I intend on doing.” The air gets caught in your throat as a small laugh leaves your lips, your clit catching on rough denim fabric, Eddie swears every time you giggle it’s like an angel gets its wings. It’s sweet and soft, just like you.

You lean in closer, soft plump lips meeting yours in a tangle of tongues, it’s hot and desperate as you are for each other.

Eddie moans into your mouth as your movements get more daring, practically bouncing on his clothed lap. His eyes quickly flicker to your tits as they jiggle with each bounce, it’s clear you’re not wearing a bra, and the idea makes Eddie’s mouth water and his cock stiffen. It feels the hardest it's been since he took a dick in his ass for the very first time. He needs to be inside you and he hopes you're willing to give him that, he’ll do anything for it, at this moment. He feels like a desperate idiot; but he is, he really is so fucking desperate for you.

You immediately notice the way Eddie’s eyes have been trained on the perky slopes of your breasts, with an ever growing smirk you take the hem and hike the shirt up and over your head to be discarded on the red carpet of his van.

“Holy shit!” Eddie practically pants, like a dog who’s out of water.

His decorated hands move up from your hips as they begin to tweak at your nipples, nimble fingers rubbing over the double balled jewelry that sits on each hardened peak.

“Fuck, such pretty tits!” He groans “and they’re pierced, Jesus.” Eddie was enthralled, absolutely fucking enthralled by you.

You lean down, planting soft kisses to Eddie’s long, beautiful neck, leaving behind remenits of your red lipstick and spit soaked bruises.

“Mmm…” he hums as you suck and bite at a spot under his ear lobe.

“Please, fuck me.” You breathily murmur into his ear, before you lift yourself back up using his pecs as leverage, eyes meeting his as you gauge his reaction to your plea.

“You sure, baby?” He whispers before leaving a sloppy kiss to your jaw.

“I’m so sure, please Eddie.” The way you moan his name as you beg for him creates something feral inside of Eddie, his eyes now glazed over into something dark, his jaw tightens as he grabs two rough handfuls of your ass, that are now exposed while your skirt sits carelessly on your lower back.

His right hand slowly glides up your body and into your hair, quickly tightening his fingers around the strands at the base of your neck.

“You want my cock, princess?” He challenges through his teeth.

“Yes, mmhmm, so bad!” You insist with a shout, having your hair pulled has always made you drip between your legs.

“Then go on.. take my cock out, you cock hungry little slut.” He growls as his fingers wrap tighter around your hair before quickly pulling his hand away, he gives your ass one hard spank before he’s back to grabbing at the meat.

You make quick work of his handcuff belt, unbuttoning and swiftly pulling down the zipper before dipping your thumbs into the waistband of both his boxers and jeans and peeling them off, leaving both garments to sit around the tops of his knees.

The sight you’re met with causes you to gasp, he has to be at least 9 inches, it was red and throbbing, wetness from his precum already saturating the mushroom tip.

“Like what you see, baby?” He brags with a smirk that could make Satan himself shiver.

“You’re so pretty, every part of you.” You admit as you lick your bottom lip, with hunger in your eyes.

Eddie wraps a ringed hand around the base of his cock, vulgarly slapping the air with it,

“Where do you want it, huh sweetheart?” His grunt made more slick pool from your needy cunt.

Showing is better than telling, so you plant your knees between his thighs, bringing your face mere inches from his pulsing hard sex.

“Holy fuck, are you gonna—” his eyes roll back as your tongue glides up the underside of his cock, before wrapping your lips around his tip. “No girl has ever given me head.” He huffs while throwing his head back.

You let go of his cock with a wet pop, “no one’s ever sucked your dick before?” You scrunch your face up in confusion, there’s no way he’s never been treated to some head, that would be a travesty.

“I have, j-just not by a-a women.” He stutters out in embarrassment, as his face flushes a bright red that travels down his neck.

It takes you a second to understand what he means, “oh” was all you said, before shrugging and getting back to work on his tip.

He smiles down at you, pulling all of your hair out of your face and holding it together in a makeshift ponytail as he gently guides your head up and down on him, until you’re taking him deeper, so deep your nose is now brushing against the curly hairs at his base, you swallow his tip down before you begin rapidly moving and twisting your head as if a women possessed.

“Oh my— whoa, fuck baby!” He keens into the stuffy air of the van, “your mouth feels so fucking good!” He begins rapidly pumping his hips up, fucking your throat as spit strings fall to his balls, you reach a hand out and begin massaging them, making him growl in pleasure.

“Okay baby, okay angel please, please stop.” Eddie whimpers as he pulls you off of his cock, the spit on your lips remains connected to Eddie’s tip.

He rubs over the messy swollen flesh with the pad of his thumb, as he hums in satisfaction.

“All fours, now.” He commands before shifting up and onto his knees, you crawl further up the mattress, finally laying your head against the sheets that were now dampened by his back, you arch your ass up while making sure your stomach was equally lowered, the position causing your ass to stick out more for him.

“Good girl.” He praised before giving your ass another harsh slap. “Let’s get these off of you.” Eddie slides your black thong over your butt and down your legs, slowly pulling them off from around your feet.

He throws your panties towards the front of the driver's seat, the black fabric lands perfectly on his dashboard. “M’keepin’ those.” He chuckles.

You’re so lost in desire, that someone could’ve told you Rob Halford himself was out signing autographs and you wouldn’t have bat an eyelash or made any attempts to move.

“Fuck, look at these pretty holes.” Eddie groans while running the tips of his fingers from your clit up towards your asshole. “You like getting all of your holes filled, princess?” He smirks at the way your body reacts to him and how loud you moan at his words.

Your ‘yes’ is muffled by the mattress, Eddie’s having none of it.

SLAP!

“Speak up!” He grumbles, before taking both cheeks roughly in his hands and spreading them.

“Yes! I love it!” Your wail has Eddie’s smirk growing more devilish

“I know you do.” He mocks as his middle finger teases your entrance, he causes your body to writhe and groan in desperation by slipping just the tip of his finger in and out of your aching hole.

Finally after all of his teasing, he slips his full finger inside, pumping in and out at a splitting speed.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” He gasps while resting his head on your backside as he still works you with his finger, finally slipping another one in and scissoring them in an attempt to stretch you out.

He hasn’t even fucked you, yet you’re still an incoherent mess as slobber begins to pool on the sheets below your face.

His head starts to slowly move closer to where you’re spread, you gasp and wiggle when you feel his wet tongue slowly lick over your puckered hole.

“Oh fuck!” You blubber, the action making you clench around Eddie’s fingers.

“Mm, oh you like getting your asshole licked?” He scoffs in a teasing tone “it feels good, doesn’t it?”

All you can do is nod and sob into his cheap cologne smelling sheets.

Slowly slipping his fingers out as he moves in closer, replacing his digits with his throbbing cock.

“You ready, princess?” He surveys as he runs his calloused hands up and down your back, gently rubbing at your soft skin.

“Mmhm, I’m ready.” You consent while lifting your head to get a good look at him as he slides into you.

His tip begins breaching your entrance as your eyes remain locked on each other, you and Eddie’s brows are both furrowed and jaws slack as he pushes in deeper.

“Oh, fuck!” Eddie growls as he continues to stretch you out. If he were to die in this very moment, he would die a happy man, the way your pussy is squeezing and choking him; he’s fucked tight assholes, but never a pussy this tight and he thinks it might be his new favorite thing, the way you get so effortlessly wet and the ridges on your walls that stimulate his cock so sensationally. The weed makes his mind go to some weird places; maybe I found some kind of holy grail pussy? He shakes his head of the weird thoughts beginning to plague his mind.

“Yes, right there!” Your screeching brings him back down to this dimension, making him drive deeper and pound harder into you, hitting that spongy spot over and over until you’re shaking underneath him, knees almost buckling at the intense pleasure that is now conquering your body. His fingers are pressed so deep into the skin of your upper thighs, that you’re positive they’ll be bruised by tomorrow.

“Right there?” Eddie mockingly smirks as he hits it over and over with his tip, “that your spot, baby?”

Your “mmhmm” comes out so whiny and desperate, he knew you were close and so was he but he needed to see you fall apart first.

Eddie quickly brings his thumb up to his lips, the calloused finger dipping into his mouth as he sucks, getting it all nice and wet before you feel it prodding your unused hole, he begins thrusting faster as his digit reaches the second knuckle. “Oh my god, you have the tightest fucking holes.” He sounds so out of breath and fucked out by this point, his loud groans, filthy words and extra finger are making you reach that peak of toe curling completion at a hurdling speed.

“I’m gonna cum.” You whine as you begin to back up into his thrusts, making his cock and finger hit deeper depths.

“Yes, cum for me baby.” He urges as he’s on the precipice of his own high.

“Yes, yes…” you babble as your body tenses, uncontrollably shaking as you come undone, Eddie’s thumb continues to work your asshole, while he fucks you through the most intense orgasm you’ll probably ever have.

“I-I’m coming baby, fuck!” Eddie shouts before he pulls himself out of your tight heat, hand maniacally working his cock until his warm seed spurts into your stretched out asshole.

“Holy shit!” He groans while his body falls over yours, you both begin to laugh until you hear someone pound their fist on the side of the van.

“Hey, Eddie—” you gasp at the disturbance, eyes going wide when you catch a glance at the metalhead, “the show's about to start man, everyone’s lining up at the door!” The raspy masculine voice calls out again, before you’re left in silence.

You and Eddie begin frantically getting dressed in hopes to get a good spot in line.

Once out into the fresh summer air, Eddie throws his arm around your shoulders, “you wanna watch the show with us, princess?” He proposes with a sweet grin, while lighting a cigarette.

You were right, a Judas Priest concert was the perfect place to make new friends.

taglist:

@michellecrusher @ali-r3n @crybabyddl @definitelynotecho @ajkamins @daniellabrandt @bl4ckt00thgr1n

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie x y/n #eddie stranger things #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x you #eddie x you #eddie munson fic

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sixosix · 3 months

Text

i want you for worse or for better | aether

synopsis your ex, aether, asks you to be his plus one; you were doomed from the very beginning.

tags wc 2.8k, gn!reader, modern au, profanity, getting back together, exes to lovers, humor bc i cant take my own writing seriously, ft 4GGRAVATE!!!

notes ty to @earthtooz and @naosaki helping me brainstorm w this one… our big brains were on the same wave while cooking.

Aether moved around a lot. He was never the type to settle down. It was in his blood to explore the world and leave only a trace of him behind. He was something like a hero, coming in at the worst time and leaving them better than before. You couldn’t say the same about his effect on you, though.

You told him of this before, and he slumped over and rested his head on your lap, “I don’t even mean to. Are you at least swept off your feet by my heroic deeds?”

“I was so charmed I only dated you because you have overthrown the government,” you said.

Aether had laughed then, and kissed you sweetly. You couldn’t fool him for a second—how you melted to the kiss spoke for itself. You loved him for so much more than that.

But you also knew that it wouldn’t last long. Aether warned you about it, too; you couldn’t even be mad. How could you blame anyone but yourself when you deliberately brushed past all the warning signs?

“I don’t stay,” Aether told you, at the time. “If you want to do this…”

“I know,” you said, at the time. “I know what I’m getting myself into. So will you just kiss me already?”

Well, you should’ve known, too, that falling out of love with Aether wouldn’t be as easy as falling in love with him. Not when he kissed you like he would never leave, anyway. You were doomed from the very beginning.

“You’ve been staring at your phone for a worryingly long time now,” Tighnari said, eyeing you from the top of his cards.

You were seated on Alhaitham’s living room couch, the four boys lounging on the floor playing TCG. Cyno was winning effortlessly against Kaveh, but against Tighnari, he found himself at a loss. Alhaitham was continuing Cyno’s winning streak on his behalf, while Cyno was down two rounds from playing with Tighnari. You had been playing, too, but your phone lit up and displayed a name that had you dropping your cards and hiding your screen from your friends’ view.

You bit your lip and reread the message for the third time. The previous texts had been months ago, with him wishing you a happy birthday. You replied with a Thank you and a red heart emoji, because the <3 emoticon felt too intimate.

“Aether texted me,” you murmured, then braced yourself for the explosion.

It was Kaveh that did. “Aether? As in your ex, Aether? That Aether?” Kaveh demanded.

“Do you know other Aethers?” Alhaitham quipped, then placed a card that had Kaveh clutching his head and groaning.

“Shut up,” Kaveh hissed, mostly because he lost. “The point is—that’s your ex! What did he say?”

You buried your face on the couch pillow, hating how your heart was racing. Like you were still in high school, or something, and not a full-grown adult who was having a crisis over their ex texting them. “He said hey are you up?, all lowercase, no comma.”

“No comma,” Kaveh repeated with a suspicious look on his face.

“No need to be so wary,” Cyno said. “His intentions don't appear to deliberately cause any 'comma-tion’.”

Tighnari’s ears dropped along with his face.

“Do you get it?” Cyno seemed proud that he was able to come up with that one right away. “There was no comma. It was a wordplay on commotion—”

“Did he also say what he was texting you for?” Kaveh interrupted loudly. “If he wants something, send a picture of us and tell him you’re busy.”

“Aether’s not like that,” you murmured in defeat.

Kaveh was making him out to be some sort of playboy. Aether wasn’t, which made you worry more. You didn’t want to entertain someone who left you, but you still cared enough to wonder if something came up and he needed you.

“You’re going to reply?” Tighnari asked.

“Yes,” you said, typing out a what’s up? and hitting Send. You didn’t know why you had butterflies in your stomach—you used to shower with Aether back when you were still together; there was no need to be so nervous. “He’s your friend, too, you know.”

“You were our friend first,” Kaveh said. “And he broke your heart. That’s not something to be taken lightly.”

You felt warm, a smile blooming on your face. “It’s okay. I wasn’t that affected.”

“You were,” Kaveh, Tighnari, and Cyno chorused.

“Fuck you,” you said, smile dropping.

Aether was typing again. You sat up straight and watched the three dots do the worm on the bottom of your screen.

hi :) how are you?

Ugh. Furiously, you typed, aether spit it out. did something happen?

okay okay

You expected that he just wanted something. Something had to have come up for him to text you after months. That didn’t make it hurt any less, though. Maybe Aether was a playboy; the way he played with your feelings almost qualified him for it.

But then you think back to when Aether was still in Sumeru, lighting up the room, lighting up a fire in your heart. He was everyone’s favorite, too, not just yours. And even if Kaveh and the others denied it now, they hadn’t been able to deny him back then. Aether helped them out in ways they didn’t know how to repay. Aether made you so happy, to be thinking so negatively about him like this.

Aether sent: i’m invited to aymar’s wedding and i wanted to ask if you would agree to be my plus one

why me?

you’re the first person i thought of.

Perhaps he wasn’t in trouble—he was trouble enough. What were you getting yourself into?

i thought you didn’t want to get involved with Aymar anymore

i can’t turn down an excuse to eat free at a buffet

You sighed. You wouldn’t, either.

You frowned at your screen, wishing it was Aether in front of you instead. Maybe if you could read his expressions instead of reading between the lines of his texts, you could figure out why he invited his ex, of all the people he knew.

besides, Aether continued to text, this is probably aymar’s way of showing us that she’s over me. she has a groom now and all that

Aymar had the biggest crush on Aether, and she never hid it, even when you and Aether were dating. But despite her advances, she was a sweet girl who was just as infatuated with your ex as the rest of Teyvat was. Maybe this was her way of apologizing.

However—

she didn’t even invite me wtf

haha well is that a no?

“Guys,” you spoke up, grabbing your friends’ attention. Kaveh was still losing miserably. “Have you heard news of Aymar’s wedding?”

“Oh,” Kaveh looked thoughtful, “yes. We were invited.”

“What? Was I the only one not invited?”

“Maybe it’s because you got to date Aether and she didn’t,” Tighnari said.

You rolled your eyes. “Well, Aether’s asking me to be his plus one—and I’m going to say yes don’t look at me like that.”

Alhaitham, Cyno, and Kaveh wordlessly clear their expressions.

“Oh,” Tighnari frowned. “We weren’t planning on going.”

“We have to now!” Kaveh said. “We have to, if Y/N’s going.”

“Is this too much?”

You checked yourself out in the full-length mirror, performing a little twirl that had Kaveh clapping. Alhaitham sat beside him, briefly looking up from his book. Tighnari and Cyno were elsewhere, picking shoes for you that would be in the range of ‘cheap’ and ‘expensive, but not because I care about what Aether would think’.

“Of course not,” Kaveh said, giving a thumbs up. “You look great!”

You turned to Alhaitham next, who didn’t hesitate: “Looks good. Might as well wear yellow, too.”

You flushed hotly at his implications. “I’m not dressing up to impress him! This is a formal event, which he happened to invite me to—as friends.”

“Right,” Alhaitham drawled. He could at least pretend to believe you, but that would probably be asking too much from him already.

Kaveh nudged Alhaitham, with a bit more force than necessary. “Cut Y/N some slack.”

Alhaitham sighed imperceptibly, turning his full attention to you. “This would probably be the closure you needed,” Alhaitham said, and you recognized his way of comfort for the way it is. “You’ll find out that you’re over him after this.”

“You’re right,” you said, breathing in deep. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“So,” Kaveh stood up. “Is that what you’re buying? Let’s make haste—Cyno reserved a spot in the line for you!”

Excitement bubbled in your chest as you held the fabric to your chest.

You were definitely not over Aether.

As soon as you felt yourself fidgeting nervously a block away from the ceremony, you knew. As soon as a car rolled in and he stumbled out of the car, tripping because he was waving at you, you knew that you were so not over him.

You tried to blame the heat of the sun for how warm you suddenly felt, but you could be referring to the other sun making his merry way to you, his smile bright, all teeth. His braid could almost be a tail from how it waggled as he jogged over.

“Hey,” Aether, charming and beautiful Aether, gold and warm—your ex, Aether—breathed out, “you look great.”

“You, too.” Aether looked maddening in a suit, in the best way possible. You felt lightheaded and choked out, “Very dashing.”

“Yeah?” He grinned.

“Yeah,” you said, then turned away in case he saw the raw, unfiltered want on your face.

“Shall we?”

How cheesy. Still, you felt yourself flush as you linked your arms with his, like you were a couple. Kaveh was going to kill you—after he killed Aether first.

Aymar’s wedding was startlingly grand. You think she might just have invited the entirety of Sumeru; you might even find Lesser Lord Kusanali here, maybe.

You found your friends and settled beside them while Aether awkwardly sat on the far edge. He seemed reluctant to have space from you, so you pulled him closer.

“Hey,” Tighnari greeted him. “How have you been? You stopped sending us letters.”

Aether looked extremely uncomfortable. He must be feeling Cyno’s stern stare. “Haha. Well, yeah.”

The ceremony went as usual. The groom was someone you didn’t recognize; he looked like he was from Sumeru, all big and intimidating—the complete opposite of Aether. Aymar’s tastes changed drastically. All the same, you cheered along with the crowd when they kissed.

You haven’t been able to attend many weddings yourself, though you could always appreciate how emotional the newlyweds got. Vows were always the sweetest to hear. You’d never seen Aymar smile so wide before; then again, it was only fitting. This was her wedding day. Not that you’d know, though.

You glance to the side, catching Aether looking at the newlyweds kiss with an unreadable expression on his face. He looked like he longed for it, but that didn’t seem right. Weddings tied you down. Aether didn’t want to be tied down.

Kaveh clapped the loudest, which snapped Aether into clapping along as well.

You wondered what Aether was thinking. You wonder if he was thinking the same. Looking at the happy bride and the teary groom—could this have been you and him in another life?

Hah.

That’s a funny thought.

You bit your bottom lip to distract yourself from feeling your eyes go hot.

Aymar beamed at you two as she bounded over. “You came!” she said, though it was directed at you.

You wanted to tell her you weren’t even invited, but you felt like that would ruin the moment. Plus, it was literally her wedding. You were glad you ended up here after all the years you spent knowing each other. You smiled back, genuine, and leaned into her hug.

“Of course,” you said. “You look beautiful.”

Aymar blushed. “Thank you. You two look great as well!”

Aether shuffled beside you. “Thanks for inviting us.”

Aymar had that look in her eye that spelled suspicious.

But the past was the past. You weren’t going to get jealous when Aymar was quite literally married, and Aether wasn’t even your boyfriend anymore. “I’m glad you’re happy, Aymar,” you said.

Aymar glanced between the two of you, then finally at you. “I hope you find happiness, too, Y/N. Soon, hopefully.”

The reception started. While your friends were busy hoarding the food, you and Aether were left alone. He looked uncharacteristically nervous—it made you pity him. He was the one who asked you to come with him, but he must have felt out of place the entire time. Everyone thought he would never return, after all.

You traced the rim of your glass, hoping to appear nonchalant. “So, what have you been up to while at Fontaine? Finally moving off to Natlan?” you asked, then bit back a Find any other flings, too?

Aether sighed, twirling his champagne flute before taking a long sip. “Didn’t do too much, honestly. I spent most of my time there thinking.” His eyes flicked up to yours. “Lumine already found her place here in Teyvat, and I…”

Oh.

You were glad you held back from being petty while Aether was genuinely distressed over his journey to self-discovery. Again, you weren’t an asshole. And you still cared about Aether, despite everything, because he was hard to hate. With a sad face like that…

“Sorry,” you muttered. You didn’t mean to make him remember Lumine.

Aether laughed softly. “It’s not like that. It took me a while, but—I had already found my place, too. I was just too dumb not to realize it sooner.”

You wanted to chide him for calling himself dumb, but he was looking at you like he was waiting for you to get something. You blinked, feeling lost.

Aether tilted his head. “It’s with you.”

Your mouth hung open. “What?”

Aether went to repeat it, but Cyno and Tighnari had come back with plates heaping with food. Cyno had one on each hand, unabashed. He sat on his seat and said, in all seriousness, “We might have finished all the catering.”

Tighnari chuckled, “We didn’t, but you two should hurry and get your fill.”

You didn’t get another chance to talk with Aether privately during the reception, but it was still good fun. Aether seemed to warm up to your friends again—or, rather, your friends seemed to warm up to him again.

You shared laughs, food, and toasts with the newlyweds—but your favorite had to have been sharing glances with Aether all throughout the night.

You and Aether went ahead. Cyno and Tighnari didn’t seem surprised when you told them that you were letting Aether take you home, which would have certainly been a blow to your dignity had it been in any other situation.

“So,” you started, “what made you realize you wanted to get me back? Did you have some revelation while in Fontaine?”

“Yes, actually,” Aether said, his hands brushing against yours now and then. “For every sight and couple I saw, I just kept thinking about how you would’ve loved it there.”

“Oh.”

Aether looked bashful. The moonlight highlighted his blush well. “I thought it was because we had just broken up at the time, but I never stopped thinking about you.”

Aether kept going, but you were already sold. You already wanted to get back with him the moment he texted you with all lowercase and no commas. You were fooling no one. Not Alhaitham, not yourself. “What, so you want to take me to the City of Love?”

Aether looked at you fondly. “You would always be the first one I’d think of.”

“I curbed your wanderlust…?” You were fishing for it at this point, but being deprived of Aether’s affections for a long while did that to a person.

You felt outmaneuvered. Shouldn’t you be letting him chase after you a bit more? Why were you discarding your pride just like that? Over your ex?

Your not-ex-anymore now-boyfriend-again smiled. “You became my reason to stay.”

Well. You were doomed from the very beginning.

“Aether!” Paimon shrieked from the other room. “You have mail!”

“Alright, alright,” Aether sighed, lazily pulling himself up from his bed and trudging to the living room. Paimon held a brown envelope.

Aether opened it and withdrew the contents, puzzled.

“Ooh!” Paimon gasped. “Two invitations for a wedding? Is it for Paimon, too?”

Aether ripped the other envelope, heart stuttering at the sight of a familiar name inked on the vellum paper. He blushed. “This is—!”

“Huh? For Y/N?” Paimon snatched the invitation from Aether’s fingers. “Why was it addressed to us? Maybe they were mistaken…”

Aether read something on the back of your invitation. “I don’t think it was mistaken.”

Written with a ballpen, it said, Hi, Y/N! It’s Aymar! I don’t know Aether’s address and none of my colleagues seemed to know where his residence would be…? (Probably because Aether wasn’t even in Sumeru.) But I assumed you would be staying together, so here’s my invitation for you both—I hope you can come!

Aether recognized an opportunity when he saw one.

extras!

the ending was rlly vague so let me add: aether was planning to go back to sumeru for you already and the wedding invitation was a perfect excuse—he flew out back to sumeru literally the next day.

earthtooz was making out with alhaitham & art was making out w kaveh during the reception which is why they dont show up during the end thanks

cyno brought his tcg deck and made tighnari bring his own—thats what they did during the afterparty lol

don’t ask if paimon was floating or if she was on the ground. sometimes we dont have to question things.

aymar was a name i just grabbed from the list of sumeru npcs—i don’t actually know if i butchered her personality horribly. if i did, forgive me.

THANK YOU FOR READING HOPE U ENJOYED!! LMK WHAT U THINK <3333 comments/rbs get a kiss from aether

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin x you #aether x reader #aether x you #aether x y/n #genshin x y/n #genshin impact

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ladykailitha · 5 months

Text

The Fallen

I blame @vecnuthy for this entirely. Seeing all their Sleep Token posts has completely intersected with Steddie and you get this.

***

Modern AU: Corroded Coffin makes it big. Like Metallica levels huge. Like every up and coming metal band is clamoring to open for them levels of fame. When this metal band, The Fallen comes on the scene and are dismissed as glam rock wannabes.

They are very theatrical. They are dressed in long coats with hoods and face masks. The guitarist, bassist, and drummer all have full Venetian masks of different colors. The bassist has one that looks like a starry night (but not Starry Night if you know what I mean). The Guitarist has a red devil’s mask, horns and all. The drummer is in a black death mask. The eyes of the mask are closed and it looks eerie as fuck. The most dramatic of the masks belong to the lead singer. He wears an opaque white lace mask with the mouth and chin cut out so he can sing.

Their outfits match their masks.

The lead singer, Abbadon, the fallen angel is in all in white with a splash of color on the lining of his coat. Sometimes it’s pink or baby blue, sometimes it one of the colors of bandmates, black or red or starry midnight blue. He wears high heeled boats and not always of the combat variety. Once he wore stilettos with a baby blue stripe up the side. It’s the outfit that gets made into dolls and merch the most. Most of the time he’s shirtless, but has been known to switch it up with lace or sheer tops.

The guitarist plays up the devil persona to a tee and calls himself Asmodeus, the demon of lust. Red leather and fetish gear. Thick red combat boots. His guitar is even blood red.

The bassist is called Astraeus, the titan of the night. While in certain light his clothes look black, but they are in fact a dark blue with bright stars, swirling galaxies, and glowing nebulae. His bass is of the night sky as well.

And finally the drummer, Azrael. Angel of death. Always in black. His drum kit is black with black metal fittings. Even his drumsticks are black.

Like I said, at first dismissed as wannabes but they are killing it. It’s clear that not only are they talented, their flare for the dramatic adds to their mystique. Soon they are the new rising stars of metal.

Dustin is their biggest fan. He loves them. Eddie is offended at the highest level. How dare this little butthead like The Fallen. Dustin rolls his eyes.

“Dude, Corroded Coffin is still number one in my book,” he tells Eddie. “But you can’t deny that Abbadon is a beast on vocals.”

Eddie is forced to concede the point. Abbadon knows how to really get the through to the emotion of a song.

So when Dustin gets front row tickets to The Fallen’s concert in Indy, Eddie reluctantly joins the little twerp.

And the concert starts. First the drummer gets lowered into his seat on giant raven wings.

“Azrael!” the announcer calls out.

And the crowd goes wild.

The man slips out of the harness and wings ascend. Eddie cocks his head, yeah all right that’s kinda cool.

Azrael hits his drums and the bassist gets lowered on to the stage. All shimmering blues and purples, like actual stars, lands deftly on the stage and Azrael hits the high hat.

“Astraeus!”

The crowd is frantic now. Screaming and jumping up and down.

As soon as the wings are unstrapped and lifted away Astraeus riffs on his bass and the crowd eats it up.

Eddie likes this one. It’s unique.

Then Azrael starts up again as another man is lowered and it takes everything in Eddie’s power not to roll his eyes at this one. Red leather gear, horned mask, and fucking bat wings.

He stomps on the stage and really wails on his guitar. Eddie looks over to see that Dustin is absolutely eating it with the rest of them so he wisely keeps his mouth shut.

“Asmodeus!”

Dustin is vibrating so hard that Eddie’s fears he might literally crawl out of his skin with excitement.

And then the entire stadium goes silent. Like stock still. Eddie is looking around him confused.

He looks back at the stage and there descends the absolute most devastatingly handsome man Eddie has ever seen and he hasn’t seen his face.

His arms are out stretched and his head is bowed. Once he lands air cannons shoot out white feathers out at the crowd and the wings ascend without this man.

“Abbadon!” the announcer screams for the final time.

“Indy!” he shouts into his mouthpiece.

And the crowd screams could deafen the most resilient of metal goer.

Abbadon starts singing and the crowd is losing their god damn minds. And yeah, yeah. Eddie is one of them.

They’ve got a stage presence that can’t be manufactured.

And then about half way through the concert he sees it. Abbadon turns his head just right and holy fuck, Eddie is losing his mind for a different reason. He manages to take a picture with his phone before Abbadon turns.

After the concert Eddie grills Dustin about the band all the way home. But the only thing the kid knows is how awesome the band is.

He gets to the hotel and starts watching every interview with The Fallen ever. And he pulls up one from about a year or so back where Abbadon is talking about the masks.

Abbadon pulls out a black mask and holds it up to the light. “See? You can tell that the eyes have mesh covering over them. They work the way two way mirrors do. Azrael can see out of them just fine, but you can’t see in.”

There are a lot of impressed nods, Eddie is definitely one of them. That’s certainly a neat trick.

“So what’s the reason for the masks at all?” the interviewer asks.

Abbadon looks at the members of his band and they all nod. He licks his lips.

“Because if we had been ourselves when we started on the scene,” he said, “we would have be called posers and we wouldn’t have even gotten this far.”

Eddie paused the video and took a deep breath.

Fuck.

Just then Jeff wanders into the hotel room and looks at the TV.

“Is that The Fallen?”

Eddie hums. “Yup.”

Jeff grabs a drink from the mini-fridge and makes his way over. “Oh hey is that poser interview?”

Eddie hums again.

“He can’t really be serious about that,” Jeff says with a huff. “No one in the metal scene would call anyone posers, not if they truly loved the music.”

“We would have,” Eddie says with a finality that brings Jeff up short.

“The fuck we would have, man,” Jeff snaps. “There’s no way.”

“We would have it was Steve Harrington’s band.”

Jeff’s eyes go wide. “There is no way that’s Steve Harrington.”

Eddie pulls out his phone and zooms in on Abbadon’s neck. He hands his phone to Jeff.

“Okay so the dude has moles on his neck,” he says handing the phone back, “lots of people have them.”

Eddie goes through his phone and pulls up a picture of Steve. He’s not in the exact same pose but it’s close enough. He hands the phone to Jeff again.

Jeff squints and then zooms in.

“Holy fucking shit!”

Eddie drapes his hand over his mouth and purses his lips.

“Steve Harrington in a metal band,” Jeff says in awe. “All be damned.”

“When The Fallen came on the scene,” Eddie says dropping his hand so his talk, “we were outselling Metallica in records and ticket sales. If the rest of the band are preps like Steve we would have mocked them relentlessly.”

Jeff sits down hard on the sofa next to Eddie. “Shit.”

Eddie buries his head in his hands.

“We got to tell someone, man,” Jeff says. “This is huge!”

Eddie in his haste to look at Jeff accidentally hits the remote.

“Do you think you’ll ever do a reveal?” the interviewer asks.

Asmodeus leans over to speak in the microphone. “Ask us again in ten years if we’re still selling out crowds.”

Eddie fumbles it again, but manages to turn off the TV.

Jeff and he looks at each other.

“We can’t say shit, man,” Eddie hisses. “It would be like outing someone as gay or trans before they want to.”

Jeff slumps in his seat. “Fuck. Yeah. You’re right. Shit.”

They’re silent for a moment.

Eddie cocks his head to the side. “What I don’t get is how the kids don’t know.”

Jeff opens his mouth and then closes it. He shakes his head slowly. “Sorry but if I was Steve I wouldn’t tell them shit either.”

Eddie frowns. “What do you mean?”

“Look,” Jeff says turning to face him, “they’re great kids. Brilliant D&D players, nerds, geeks, and dorks the lot of them. But I would not trust them with a secret that big.”

Eddie thought about all the time that they accidentally blurted out something that didn’t make sense out of context, but once you knew, holy shit was it a miracle these kids didn’t get into more trouble.

“Yeah okay.”

After a moment of silence Eddie looks over and frowns at Jeff. “What are you doing my hotel room anyway?”

Jeff holds up his beer. “Your beer was cold, I forgot to put mine in the fridge when we got in.”

“Asshole,” Eddie grouses, bumping Jeff’s shoulder.

Jeff kisses his cheek. “You love me though.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

Steve is in his dressing room after their last concert of the tour for their second album scrubbing the hell out of his face because that mask is prone to giving him the worst breakouts, when he notices the blue roses.

He gets a lot of flowers but never blue roses. He rinses off his face and walks over to the them.

There’s a note and he thinks he recognizes the handwriting. It’s short and sweet and absolutely terrifying.

“I know your secret, sweetheart. But don’t worry, I’ll never tell.”

It’s not signed, but the ‘sweetheart’ gives it away.

He messages Robin.

“Get Eddie Munson in here right now!”

She protests that she doesn’t know where he is. But Steve knows he has to still be in the building and sure enough she finds Eddie waiting in the wings, looking smug as hell.

Her eyes go wide and cursing up a storm drags him into the dressing room.

She presses her back to the door.

“Who told?” she squeaks.

Eddie laughs. “No one, I swear.”

“Then how did you know?” Steve asks.

He hands Steve his phone with the picture he took at the concert. Robin wanders over to peak over Steve’s shoulder.

“So it’s a picture of his neck,” she murmurs.

But suddenly Steve gets it. “It’s my moles!”

Eddie nods, pressing his lips together so he doesn’t giggle.

“Shit!” Robin hisses. “Do you think anyone else figured it out?”

“I doubt it,” Eddie says with a shrug. “I’m just obsessive that way.”

“About moles?” Robin says with a frown.

“With Steve.”

Robin blinks. “Right I’m out of here.”

She closes the door behind her and they are left alone.

The night ends with Eddie in Steve’s bed asking him for The Fallen to join Corroded Coffin on their next tour next year and there is no way Steve could say no to that. His bandmates would kill him.

They go on tour and the hardest part is dodging rumors that Eddie is two timing Steve with Abbadon because when The Fallen and Corroded Coffin perform together they make out on stage.

Then for The Fallen’s ten anniversary they do a reveal and Dustin is livid.

Robin and Steve had been telling him for years that they were just low level PAs and not a famous rockstar and his equally mysterious manager.

They’re forgiven when Steve tells him that half the songs on the first album are about him and the rest of the kids.

***

This is just a rough draft. I might expand on it in full later.

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @emly03 @bookworm0690 @itsall-taken @vecnuthy @bookbinderbitch @redfreckledwolf @littlewildflowerkitten @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @scheodingers-muppet @mira-jadeamethyst @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @genderless-spoon @anne-bennett-cosplayer @irregular-child

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #rockstar eddie munson #rockstar steve harrington

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pascallftv · 4 months

Text

eighties baby

summary: your parents throw an 80’s themed party in their mansion. you try your best to contain your infatuation for joel, your dad’s best friend. you and your friend get a little too drunk and joel decides to teach you a lesson.

content: joel miller x reader, no outbreak, little plot, dbf!joel, reader in her twenties

warnings: CONTAINS MATURE CONTENT. 18+ mdni!, age gap is 20s/50, piv unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), cream pie, doggystyle, dirty talk, choking

an: i’m baaaaaack ;) this was… wow! pls enjoy

“Your ass looks immaculate.”

You glance over your shoulder in the reflection of the mirror, locking eyes with your best friend. She’s giving you wild eyes while biting her bottom lip that’s covered in bright red lip stick. Her makeup was done very vibrantly compared to usual; blue eyeshadow with bright pink blush.

“You don’t think it’s too short?” You ask, popping a hip to accentuate your ass further under your very tight and very short mini skirt. Typically, you wouldn’t mind if a little bit of cheek was hanging out the bottom of your skirt, but this was your parents’ party, not your typical college party. Your best friend rolled her eyes and you and laid a smack down on your ass. You yelped in surprise.

“It’s perfectly fine. It’ll be dark.” She begins, then her voice lowers. “Plus, Joel will want to eat you alive when he sees you in it.”

You bite your bottom lip to fight back a grin. She knew you too well. You sighed and placed your hands on your hip, your head turning to the side as your further inspect your outfit in your full length mirror. You decided to go with an 80s glam rock look instead of the typical vibrant colors from the time period. You were wearing a tight black leather skirt and matching top, with knee high platform boots with silver chains on them. You had grungy black eyeshadow matched with a glossy red lip. You felt hot.

“I can’t be too obvious. You cannot let me get too drunk tonight.” You say sternly. You were talking more to yourself than anything. You knew if you drank too much alcohol you would make a fool out of yourself in front of Joel.

Joel was your father’s main man. They’d known each other for decades now. Joel was a stern man; the crinkles by his eyes from his fifty years of wisdom weren’t usually intensified by joy, more by scowls. You’d like to think at one point he was a light hearted man, but you can’t help but wonder what in his years turned him into such a sour puss. You could count on one hand the amount of times you’d seen him genuinely laugh. It was an extremely rare occurrence, but the times he had, it was the most amazing sound you’d ever heard.

“Fine. But this is your chance to act as unhinged as you want because in the morning you can blame the alcohol.” Your best friend winks at you, patting you once more on the bum.

“You’re a terrible influence.” You turn to face her. Your shorter friend stares up at you with a devilish grin and runs her thumb along your bottom lip, cleaning up your red lipstick.

“We should head down there, take a couple shots, scope it out.” She suggests, grabbing your perfume off your vanity and spritzing it on the both of you a few times. You nod in agreement, and check your outfit in the mirror one last time. You take a deep breath and grab your friend’s hand to leave your bedroom. The 80s music was already thumping from your parent’s massive surround sound speakers downstairs. The lights were off, with the sole light source being a couple lamps and some red lights your parents used for their annual Halloween party.

When you made it downstairs, the house was already packed out. The entire neighborhood was in your parents’ house. All of the couples in the neighborhood were in attendance, as well as their children (all in their twenties or older). If you squinted hard enough, it even looked like a college party. The lighting was just enough to see the basic traits of everyone’s faces, most of them being somewhat recognizable to you. You had just graduated from college earlier that month, so you were home temporarily until you found your full-time calling.

Your friend dragged you to the kitchen where all of the alcohol was stashed. On the island, there was a lineup of liquor with the appropriate mixers. She decided to pour you each a hefty shot of tequila, as well as a lime wedge. You absolutely hated any dark liquor, and unfortunately vodka had been tainted for you in your time at college, so tequila was the sole surviving option for you. You didn’t mind the taste of tequila, but the catch was its effect on you. Unlike other forms of liquor, tequila made you incredibly horny. After around 4 tequila shots, you had the tendency to shed off articles of clothing like you were battling a heat wave. This made you nervous considering you knew Joel would be in attendance; however, as your friend said, you can use the liquor as a scapegoat if it got that bad.

As you and your friend shot back your tequila, you began wondering where Joel could be. The party started over thirty minutes ago, and it was uncharacteristic of him to be late, meaning he was in the house somewhere. The thought alone made your skin crawl.

“One more.” Your friend called out over the music, pouring you each another hefty shot. Your eyes got wide. You knew you’d have to take a break from drinking after this shot, otherwise you’d end up butt ass naked in the middle of this party.

Another hefty shot later, and you were already feeling the buzz from the alcohol. Your veins felt tingly and your limbs felt weightless. You each made yourselves your mixed drink of choice, and decided to make your way out to the makeshift dance floor in your parents’ spacious living room. They had a portable disco floor, as well as a disco ball hung from the ceiling. No one took parties more seriously than your parents.

Your friend grabbed your arm and pulled you onto the dance floor, with “Talking in Your Sleep” by the Romantics blasting from the speakers. Your eyes wandered around the room trying to find the brown eyed man you’d be longing to see. Sure enough, you spotted him. He was sitting on the sofa, leaning back with his legs spread out in front of him. He had a glass of what appeared to be whiskey in his hand, resting on his thigh. You gulped when you noticed he was already looking at you. You quickly looked away and took a sip of the tequila sour you half-assed at the kitchen makeshift bar.

You made eye contact with your friend, and you gave her panic eyes to let her know you found him. She caught on almost instantly, and took that as a queue to scoot out of your line of sight. She leaned closer to you to say something in your ear.

“Go sit next to him.” She suggested loudly into your ear.

You shot her a look of unease. Wouldn’t that be too obvious? You shook your head no rapidly in response. It was too early in the night for you to do something as ballsy as that.

After about half an hour, your friend’s drink was empty and she was dragging you back to the kitchen. Your drink was still three-fourths full. Your stomach was bubbling with anxiety knowing that Joel had a direct view of you in your anything but conservative outfit. Besides, you were scared for your actions if you ingested any more alcohol.

Your friend took two more shots and mixed herself another strong cocktail. You knew she was going to be shitfaced in the matter of minutes. You rub your forehead and sigh. It’s going to be a quick night for her.

Your predictions were correct.

Forty minutes passed and her cocktail was gone, and so was she. She was so plastered that she couldn’t stand up straight, constantly grabbing your arm for support. You looked around the room and immediately made eye contact with Joel. He’s watching the both of you intensely, his head nodding over to the side as he observes your friend stumbling around. You’re fully embarrassed at how gone your friend was already. Your stomach flips when you noticed Joel was lifting himself off his spot in the sofa, making his way towards the both of you. He grabbed onto your arm, a look of concern crossing his features.

“Come on.” He said shortly, moving his arm from yours to hers, helping her stand up somewhat straight. “Let’s take her upstairs.”

You glanced down at your friend and her head was lulling to the side, her eyes fluttering shut. There was no salvaging her. You nodded in response to Joel and helped him practically carry your friend upstairs to your bedroom. After her nearly falling every few steps, you finally make it to your bedroom. You noticed Joel’s eyes wandering around the walls of your room as he took in the decor. You had various band posters still hanging in your childhood bedroom, many of them being 60’s rock bands that your dad showed you. You gently lay your friend down onto your bed, and almost immediately she’s snoring.

“Jesus Christ, I’m so sorry about this, Joel.” You mutter, looking up at him with apologetic eyes. You absentmindedly toy with your hands in front of you. Despite the shots you did take, you were still feeling nervous; the liquid courage wasn’t doing its job.

Joel stepped closer to you and shook his head. His brown eyes were soft and his eyebrows were furrowed.

“It was nothing, really.” He assures you, taking a glance back at your friend. He was amused at just how fast your friend fell asleep. He turned back to look at you and felt something flutter deep in his gut.

He had kept his eyes in you all night. He couldn’t believe how grown you were. Sure, he had known you since you were young, but you were a woman now. You had always been pretty, but now, you were stunning. He felt disgusting about it. Of all the women in his life, none of them compared to you, his best friend’s daughter. The entire night he had watched the way your latex skirt was fighting to stay over the plump flesh of your ass. Your top wasn’t much better; it left little to the imagination, your nipples peaking through the thin fabric of it. You were genuinely perfect in his eyes, and it was causing him the most intense moral battle of his life.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You asked quietly. His eyes were wandering over you, but he was saying nothing. It looked as though he was fighting something internally.

“What are you doing here?” He asked blandly, ignoring your question entirely. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion.

“What do you mean?” You pondered, crossing your arms over your chest, unintentionally pushing your boobs up further, placing them in perfect display for Joel.

“You could be anywhere, yet here you are drunk at your parents’ party.” He said, glancing down at your chest, hoping you wouldn’t notice, but of course you did. You chuckle in response.

“I just graduated college, Joel. I’m home temporarily until I can find something full time. What’s the matter? Am I inconveniencing you somehow?” You asked with pure sass.

“Well not entirely, no.” Joel says, stepping closer to you. “You’d think you and your friend would have a little self control considering the environment. This isn’t college, sweetheart.”

“I beg your pardon? I’ve barely drank anything. For god sake I helped you carry her.” You get defensive, emphatically gesturing towards your friend that’s passed out in your bed. “And unfortunately she could’ve been way worse than this.”

“You should’ve stopped her before she was fighting to keep herself standing.” Joel scolded you, his brows furrowing further.

“Aww what’s wrong, Joel? You have no children of your own so you have to parent me?” You snarled, stepping another inch closer to him. Joel frowns, his fist clenching at his hip.

“You’re a little fucking brat, ain’t ya?” Joel growls, getting centimeters away from your face. He was so close that you could feel his hot breath on the skin of your face.

“And you’re just a dickhead, huh?” You fire back.

Joel grabbed you by the forearm and tugged you towards your bedroom door. Before you could protest, Joel was dragging you down the hall to a spare bedroom. He swiftly pulled you inside and locked the door behind you. He grabbed you firmly by the throat, squeezing just the sides as to not restrict your airflow.

“Bit of an attitude problem, eh?” Joel spoke sternly. You gulped, gawking up into his crinkled eyes. “Might just have to sort you out.”

“What are you doing, Joel?” You squeaked out, your hand reaching up to grab ahold of his forearm. His face moved closer to yours, his eyes moving down to your crimson lips.

“I can only imagine you put on this poor excuse of a skirt to try and get someone to pay attention to you in the way you’re craving. You’re a little fucking whore, aren’t you?” Joel growls, his free hand moving down to your skirt, pulling it away from your body so it smacked back against your plump thighs. You gasped. You didn’t know how to respond to that. Was this actually happening?

After years of secretly fantasizing about a moment like this, it was finally happening, and you were flabbergasted.

“Answer me. Tell me what you are.” His grip around your throat slowly moved up to your jaw, his fingers squeezing your cheeks, making your lips purse.

You groaned in response, a hand trailing up Joel’s torso to his chest, laying a flat hand against him. His heart was beating rapidly. You glanced down and noticed the bulge straining against his vintage Levi jeans. He was enjoying this a little too much. You forced your face away from his grip, grabbing his wrist as hard as you could.

“I’m not a whore.” Your words were laced with venom. You were frustrated. Not because of the substance of Joel’s words, but because you were so fucking aroused. If it were anyone else, you probably would’ve planted a firm kick in their groin or sucker punched them in the lip. His words were disgusting, but you were eating it up.

“No?” Joel cocked his head at you. His free hand snakes up under your skirt, his fingertips pressing against your folds. His fingers were met with moisture. Your panties were soaked through. His gaze fell to his hand, then back up to your doe eyes. He smirked devilishly at you, his hand moving to your face. With his thumb, he pawed at your bottom lip, pulling it away from your teeth.

“Your cunt says otherwise, darling.” He muttered, his breath fanning across your face once more. You swallowed hard. You averted your eyes from him, his gaze making you feel entirely too hot.

“My parents.” You blurted out, your gaze returning to his momentarily. He swallows, his thumb still sitting by your mouth.

“They won’t know.” He said. You retracted your grip from his forearm, and he took that as an opportunity to run his finger up the outside of your arm painfully slow. “What’s wrong sweetheart? Scared of your daddy finding out?”

Your lips parted, a harsh exhale escaping your throat. Your body was on fire, your skin littered with goosebumps from Joel’s touch. To any normal person, this situation would be incredibly alarming. Yes, your moral compass was clawing at the back of your mind, but you craved interaction. Your morals were out the window, your desires taking superiority.

“Yes.” You whispered, your gaze falling to Joel’s lips. They were tempting you.

“If you don’t want this, stop me.”

Joel’s hand moved from your arm back towards the bottom of your skirt, pushing it up over your thighs, your red panties on full display.

“Fuck.” Joel growled, his fingertips grazing your mound through the lacy fabric. He pushed your panties to the side, his finger running through your folds, collecting your arousal. “Stop me, angel.” He teased.

His fingertip ghosted over your sensitive clit, your legs jolting in response, a whimper leaving your mouth. His mouth hovered over the soft skin of your neck, his breath stirring up goosebumps.

“S’matter sweetheart?” Joel muttered, planting a soft kiss to your throat. “Tell me what you need.”

“N-need more.” You said, your brows furrowing in desperation. You glanced down at his hand between your legs, your lower gut fluttering at the sight. He applied more pressure to the circles he was dancing over your swollen bud, the pleasure sending your head to lull backwards. You whimpered more, your legs beginning to feel like jello.

“You sound so pathetic.” Joel spat, working his fingers faster on your clit. You exhaled unevenly, your hand coming down on Joel’s bicep for stability.

You felt that familiar white heat beginning to ignite low in your belly, your cunt throbbing steadily. Your eyes squeezed shut. You were close— but Joel knew that. He wasn’t going to let you come just yet. Without warning, Joel halted his actions, his hand leaving your folds. You could’ve cried in that moment. Joel grabbed your forearm and tugged you towards the bed, pushing you down onto the duvet.

“Joel, please. I need to cum.” You whined, your head falling back into the soft mattress. Joel purses his lips at you, his hand running along the smooth skin of your leg, inching closer to where you needed his attention most.

“Jesus, sweetheart. At least you know what you want.” Joel said, squeezing the flesh of your thigh with the rough skin of his palm. “Here’s how this is gonna go. First I’m going to taste you. Then, I’m going to fuck you until you forget how to think. Got it?”

You nodded pathetically, grinding your hips down onto the mattress, desperate for some sort of friction. Joel ghosted his hands over your thighs to the seam of your latex skirt, gripping it between his fingers. In a swift motion, Joel tugged the skirt down your legs and off your body, tossing it somewhere on the floor. He left your boots on, not quite wanting to get rid of them yet. Your pussy looks so pretty underneath the transparent lace fabric of your thong. It left little to nothing to Joel’s imagination. Your breasts were spilling out of your black top, your areolas peaking out. You looked breathtaking.

“Fuck, angel. I wish you could see yourself. So pretty for me.” Joel muttered, lowering his face to your groin, pressing a soft kiss to your inner thigh. He ran his large hand up the back of your thigh, squeezing every few inches. You bite your lip and you stared down at his face as he littered kissed across your thighs. His salt and pepper beard added even more texture to the sensations you were feeling. He slipped his fingers underneath the fabric of your panties and slowly pulled them down your tights and over your boots, leaving your heat bare. Joel lowered his face down to your core, his hot breath fanning over your sensitive skin. He pressed a kiss to your pelvic bone, then ghosted his lips in a line down to your sensitive bud. He planted another kiss over your clit, taking his sweet time teasing you. Your pussy was throbbing at this point, desperate for any sort of touch.

“Joel please.” You pleaded, grinding your hips up towards his mouth. “I need your tongue.”

“Good girl.” He said, lowering his tongue to your folds, licking a wet stripe up your vulva, tracing a circle around your clit, sucking down on it gently. He moaned into your flesh, the vibrations sending a chill down your spine. His tongue began to work faster, flicking up and down and side to side over your clit. He brought his middle finger to your opening, ghosting circular motions over it, before slowly pushing it inside of you. You exhaled deeply at the sensation. He began pumping his finger rhythmically in and out of you, paying special attention to curl his fingertip upwards to brush against your g spot. As he felt your walls growing accustom to the girth of his singular digit, he added a second finger, pumping faster. Just from his fingers and tongue, you already felt fucked out of your mind. The pleasure sent shocks down your legs and up your spine, your head rolling back into the mattress in euphoria. A quiet moan slipped through your cherry lips, your fists grabbing the bedding for leverage to cope with the immense pleasure coursing through you.

“Joel.” You whimpered, one of your hands jetting down to grab at his hair as he lapped at your wet heat. His soft brown eyes flicked up to meet yours at the sound of your voice. Your moan went straight to his already throbbing cock.

“Christ, baby.” He groaned, lifting away from your core to unbutton his Levi’s. His hand fumbled with the zipper to get them off as fast as he could. The anticipation was killing him; he was so hard that it was beginning to hurt. He needed inside you immediately.

Finally managing to slide his jeans down his legs, his cock was straining against his boxers. The tent was revealing in itself; you already knew he was packing a punch. It felt painfully slow, but finally Joel slipped off his boxers, revealing his erection. Leaking at the tip, he brushed his thumb over, cleaning up the precum that had accumulated from tasting you.

You sat up from the mattress and grabbed his face in your hands, pressing your lips to his. Your lips moved against his in a passionate rush. You could taste yourself on his lips. Another whimper rose from your throat, the moan vibrating off his lips. The sound of your wet kiss filled the room as he lowered his body over yours to lay you back down against the bed. His hand moved from his cock to your breast, pulling it out of your top and giving it a firm squeeze.

“Fuck.” He muttered against your lips as you rocked your hips into his. You needed his touch desperately.

“Fuck me.” You breathed out, pulling away to look him in the eye. “Please.”

That was all Joel needed to hear. He reached down to take his cock in his hand again, guiding his top to press into your folds. He ran back and forth against your slick, his precum mixing with your arousal. His eyebrows furrowed in pleasure as he felt your wetness already beginning to coat him. His eyes lifted back to meet yours as he began to slowly press his tip into your entrance, the stretch already making you feel crazed. Your lips parted, an exhale escaping your lips as he pressed himself into your further. Your hands darted up to grab onto his biceps as leverage. He lowered down to your lips, pressing a slow, gentle kiss to them as he pushed his length inside of you to the hilt. Another moan escaped your lips.

“Y’okay?” Joel breathed out, slowly pumping in and out of you, allowing you time to adjust. You nodded your head, unable to form a coherent sentence.

“More.” You begged. “I need more.”

Joel ran his hand from your thigh up your belly, dragging his finger tip slowly to take in every inch of your skin. He reached your neck, wrapping his calloused fingertips around your throat, carefully squeezing on the sides. He leaned down to meet your lips, taking your bottom lip between his teeth momentarily.

“So fucking needy.” He grumbled against your mouth, his eyelids fluttering closed.

Suddenly, Joel began pounding into you. His hot breath fanned over your face as he rammed in and out of you, his length reached the deepest parts of you. You gasped, your hand reached up to grab his wrist that was busy squeezing your throat. Your eyes rolled back in your head and he slammed into you over and over. You were sure he was hitting you so deep that he was nicking your cervix. Just when you thought you couldn’t be more overwhelmed with pleasure, Joel’s free hand snaked between your thighs, his thumb finding your clit, ghosting gentle circles over the sensitive nub. You squeaked out a moan, the pleasure overcoming your senses completely. Your legs began to shake from the stimulation, your lower belly muscles tensing from the overwhelming sensation. Your breath was shaking, the oxygen feeling as through it had completely left your lungs.

“F-fuck.” You stuttered as Joel thrusted into you. “I’m close.”

Joel took this as an opportunity to slide out of you, wasting no time in flipping you onto your belly, laying a hard slap against your bare ass cheek. He groaned as your ass jiggled from the slap, his hand coming back down to grab a handful of your flesh. You pressed your face down into the duvet, letting out a moan. Your pussy was throbbing from the sudden lack of attention. You wiggled your hips, nonverbally begging for Joel’s cock. He chucked, slapping your ass once more before pressing himself back at your entrance, ramming into you fully, his hips meeting your ass in a rush. He grabbed a cheek with his rough fingertips, pulling your ass apart to get a full view of himself slamming into you. Your tightest hole was on perfect display for him.

“One day I’m going to claim you here too.” Joel growled, his fingertip grazing the ring of your asshole. You gasped, your forehead coming down onto the bedding, pressing your face down into the duvet to cover your moan. “You’d like that wouldn’t you? Me claiming your tight little ass as mine?”

You nodded rapidly, a straggled breath leaving your mouth. It was so goddamn hard for your mind to focus on anything except the feeling of his tip grazing the opening of your cervix with every thrust. Once again, Joel reached his hand down to toy at your clit, bringing you closer to your climax. The white heat hit you again as your legs began to shake under you. Joel wasn’t far behind you, and his pace wasn’t easing up.

His hips met yours hard and fast, the sound of skin slapping echoing off the walls of the spare bedroom. If it weren’t for the music thumping downstairs, your sinful act would’ve already been heard throughout the entire house. Joel leaned down, kissing you against your spine, his hand kneading your ass.

“F-fuck, where do you want me? Your mouth? Or should I fill you up?” Joel grunted, his hand snaking around your front to firmly grab your breast, pinching your nipple between his fingertips.

You gasped, the stimulation for your nipple slipping you into the beginning of your orgasm. You didn’t answer him, the feeling of your impending climax completely taking over your body.

“Look at you cumming around my cock. Such a good fucking slut.” Joel growled, his pace somehow quickening further. His hand reached up to your hair, grabbing a fistful of locks and pulling your head backwards. His other hand reached around to your throat as he bent down to kiss you from the intense angle, your orgasm taking over you entirely. Your toes began to curl beneath you, your pussy clamping around Joel’s cock that was twitching deep inside you. Your pussy clenched down around his length, hugging it perfectly.

“Fuck.” Joel whimpered, his high hitting him like a train. Your spasming canal clamped down around him as he came in hot spurts, coating your walls deep inside of you. Your walls clenched around him, milking every ounce of cum from his length.

His thrusts slowed as his seed filled you up, his hands grabbing your hips for stability as he came the hardest he’d ever came in his life. He moaned as he slowly slipped his spent cock out of you, some of his release dripping out of your used up hole. The sight was intoxicating.

“Fuck.” Joel breathed out again, taking in the ruined state of your folds. He ran his fingers down your slick, mixing his cum with yours. You flinched at the sensitivity of your pussy, whining as he brushed over your clit.

You were spent. Your face was still pressed against the mattress, your ass still perched in the air. Joel’s cum was slowly leaking out of you, and you couldn’t bring yourself to move. You were too fucked out of your mind to notice that Joel had left the bed to retrieve a wet rag from the attached bathroom. You winced as he gently cleaned up the juices spilling from you.

“You look so beautiful with my cum dripping out of you.” He spoke, running a hand up and down the back of your thigh. He pressed a kiss to your sore ass cheek from where he had smacked it.

You rolled over onto your back, your tender breasts jiggling from the movement. Joel leaned down and took a breast into his mouth, gently sucking on your hardened nipple.

“As much as I’d love to stay here and fuck you all night, I should go before your daddy starts to wonder where we went.” Joel said, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips.

A pit grew deep in your gut at the thought of Joel leaving you, but you knew the nature of this interaction and it would be silly of you to expect any different. You gazed up at him and frowned.

“Don’t look at me like that.” Joel shook his head and straightened up, moving his attention to dress himself. He began buttoning his flannel that he’d taken off during your interaction at some point that you hadn’t noticed. You watched in silence as he pulled his boxers and Levi’s back up over his legs.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” Joel said after he was fully dressed. You were still laying on the bed completely nude attempting to recover from the mindblowing sex you’d just endured. Joel walked towards the door, turning briefly to look at your one last time.

“You might want to get dressed, sweetheart. Hate to have your daddy walk in to see my cum spilling out of you.” He winked, then disappeared out of the door, leaving you alone fucked out of your mind.

#joel miller #joel tlou #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #din djarin #the mandalorian #tlou fanfiction #tlou #smut #pedro x reader #joel x reader #dbf!joel #age g4p

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lovinpelova · 5 months

Text

salty | j. fleming

summary; arsenal win against chelsea, jessie isn't too happy about it. [SMUT]

listen to: agora hills - doja cat

the ball fell to your feet as jessie gave it away, your instincts taking over and your legs ran as fast as they could towards chelseas defense. looking for an option and seeing stina was far behind with frida trailing on the right side of her, you decided to go for it.

"don't you dare!"

jessie yelled as she finally caught up, tugging on your shirt lightly in a duel for the ball but undoubtedly failing, you dribbled past her with a nutmeg into an opening before your foot connected with the ball perfectly towards the bottom right. watching it curl towards top bins as your girlfriend got to you a second too late, knowing it went in before it even left the ground and sighing in your ear as she watched you run away to celebrate with your teammates.

the game was now 3-1 to arsenal with one minute of injury time left to play, the whistle being blown a couple seconds late as you screamed in joy. this was your first piece of silverware with arsenal in a while, so jessie could understand why it meant so much to you, especially considering you'd scored to give your side a bigger lead. you high-fived and hugged all the chelsea players before even thinking about celebrating with your teammates, saying they played well and would do better next time.

you eventually reached your girlfriend and looked into her eyes for any indication of how she was feeling, seeing sadness and a little bit of anger.

"you played well jess-"

"did you have to fucking nutmeg me?"

she asked bluntly whilst high-fiving you, giving you a quick hug as you laughed at her anger and watched her walk away to her teammates. she'd let go of it in a couple hours time when you got home after her- but for now, you had to go get drunk with leah and katie.

--------

"jessie? i'm home baby!"

you called out into your shared apartment whilst taking off your shoes and coat, placing your belongings on the kitchen counter beside you as your girlfriend stormed towards you. you grinned at her, picking up the medal that hung around you neck and moving it left to right, laughing when she followed it with her eyes like a dog. okay, maybe you could be a bit mean about it when you won against chelsea, but she played for one of your biggest rivals in the clubs history- could you be blamed?

"i'm not a fucking dog, stop doing that. i'm not a loser either, chelsea should have won."

"the scoresheet says otherwise my love."

you retaliated, taking off the medal and putting it with the rest of your belongings as you watched jessies lip curve up in a scowl for a moment, she grunted and took another couple steps towards you before pushing you into the counter and kissing you harshly. if jessie was anything, she was a bad loser. she tended to stay salty and defensive about it for a while and then refuse to admit she lost when she calmed down from her emotions.

right now, she was defensive. and judging by the way her lips were moving against yours and hands were gripping your waist, she was furious about the loss. chelsea had a reputation of winning all the finals they got to, reigning champions of the super league and even getting to beat manchester united in the fa cup final, so what was so different about arsenal with the continental cup?

"i am not a loser."

she growled against your lips as she pulled away, watching the way your eyes slowly opened to realise she'd shocked you beyond belief. jessie was normally soft and shy, even in bed whenever you asked her to be rough she'd still be too scared of breaking you or something, so this side of her was something new. and you loved it.

"yeah? wanna show me how much of a winner you are then?"

you teased whilst fidgeting with the collar of her shirt, both of you still in club kit with your hair tied up but jessie didn't care. as much as she hated the arsenal red she couldn't fault how good you looked in it.

the canadian picked you up with your legs around her waist and started walking towards your bedroom, her lips moving desperately against yours. you could tell she needed this. to forget about the loss and mistakes she'd made, she needed a sense of euphoria - a different type of high - and she needed it now.

if that happened to be sourced by you moaning out her name in pleasure all night long, who were you to deprive her of what she wanted?

jessie put you down on the bed and tugged her shirt off, throwing it across the room as she climbed over you and watched you take yours off, her pupils dilating even more whilst her hands trailed up your torso. her breathing grew heavier as she seemingly got lost in her thoughts, the way her stomach and chest were heaving up and down affecting you in embarassing ways.

she snapped out of her trance when you let out a small whine at the sudden slow pace, accepting the smirk she gave you and pulling her down to continue making out like you were both in heat. her hips started to grind against yours slowly as she gripped your ass and waist shamelessly, moving her lips down to your neck and chest whilst leaving marks behind. she moved down to your stomach impatiently and bit down hard, smiling at the hiss you let out as her hands tugged down your shorts and underwear, too impatient to bother with the struggle of removing your sports bra.

"you gonna stop being cocky if i fuck it out of you?"

she moved your legs to rest over her shoulders, kissing up the inside of your thighs and sucking to leave the occasional love bite with her hands gripping your thighs.

"gonna have to find out aren't you?"

you countered, hands moving to her hair and shoulders for a sense of release when she eventually did start fucking you- and that she did. her tongue dived into you like she'd been starved for years beforehand, sloppily licking up your arousal before she started flicking it quickly over your clit just the way you liked. jessie smirked as she looked up at you, hearing you moan out in surprise with your back arched and fingers tugging at her hair- god she loved it when you pulled her hair whilst she ate you out.

she wrapped her lips around the sensitive bud and started sucking, watching you writhe under her before moving further down towards your entrance, not waiting a single moment to dip her tongue inside and moan at the taste of you.

"ohh, tastes so good babygirl. already drunk off you."

she moaned into your pussy shamelessly whilst pushing her face further into you, not caring about how the dirty talk was unusual for her and deciding to continue her movements. she pulled one hand up to rub her thumb over your clit at the perfect pace whilst her tongue worked itself in and out of you, listening to the way you responded to her manhandling with a sense of pride filling her. she didn't care about losing the match anymore, she cared about making you cum all over her face.

jessie nuzzled her face into you further as you moaned out her name with a plead for more, quickly pulling her tongue out and moving it to flatten against your heat, trailing it up to your clit before she took it into her mouth and started sucking harshly again. she moved her hand towards your entrance and pushed a finger in without warning, listening to you whimper at the sudden intrusion as she pushed in a second finger soon after.

her fingers quickly curled towards your g-spot and began abusing it, the canadian grunting in annoyance when you bucked your hips as it took her mouth away from you when they fell back onto the bed. she moved her other hand to hold your waist down so she could properly move her fingers deeper into your heat, moving her head up to be level with yours and holding your hips down with her own whilst her hand went around your neck.

"stay still or i'm gonna leave you here like this."

you nodded your head in response as she sped up her thrusts, moving in to kiss you sloppily with yourself trying to kiss back. your orgasm was impending and jessie could feel it, the way your walls were clenching around her fingers tighter with each thrust telling her as she peppered kisses along your collarbones and moved her hand to massage your waist gently whilst she talked you through it.

"c'mon baby, you wanna be a good girl right? you gonna cum for me? make me a winner? gonna be my good girl, aren't you?"

"yes jessie- gonna, god i'm so close. m'gonna cum for you, so good."

you whimpered out in response to her praise as she moved her thumb to rub over your abused clit again, the extra stimulation making you fall over the edge and onto her fingers as she continued to talk you through it just the way you liked her to.

"attagirl, that's it princess. makin' me a winner, hm? so good to me baby, keep goin- just like that, there you go."

"jessie-"

you tried to speak, getting cut off with the aftershocks of your orgasm hitting you hard, especially when she licked your arousal off her fingers right in front of your face. breathing heavily and looking up at her, you smiled at each other, both apologetic.

"i'm sorry for being a dick about it."

"i'm sorry for not taking the loss well."

jessie spoke softly, leaning down to kiss you gently as you gladly kissed back, her hand holding your face as yours dragged themselves up her back whilst you moaned at the feeling of her muscles underneath your fingertips. the canadian smiled into the kiss and pulled away to grin at your blush, shaking her head at you as you shyly smiled back before she rolled onto her back and pulled you onto her waist with a passionate kiss, obviously intending to be a winner again.

#jessie fleming #woso smut #jessie fleming x reader #woso x reader #jessie fleming smut #jessie fleming imagine #jessie fleming fanfic #chelsea wfc #chelsea wfc x reader #chelsea womens #chelsea women #canada womens #canada women #canada wnt #woso #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics

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arieswritez · 5 months

Text

cupid

cupid | dirtbag!mark x lovesick f!reader

cw; DARK CONTENT!!! manipulation, cheating (srry eve 🫶🏾), coercion, dubcon/noncon, unprotected sex, breeding kink, corruption kink, virgin reader, misogyny (?), no actually no question mark he's a seedy misogynist, reader wears a skirt, victim blaming, mind break

about; mark is a red flag & a liar but he's cute so it makes up for it.

a/n; thinking about mark 'just the tip' grayson who dotes on cute little virgins and swipes their cherries 🫶🏾

mark is your best friend.

he has been for very a long time. in fact, the two of you have been friends far before he knew it.

the two of you basically grew up together: lived in the same neighborhood and went to the same schools. you knew him. but he didn't know you. and it wasn't until high school when the two of you officially became friends.

and you'll admit, it was a little awkward when william - the only friend the both of you had in common - introduced the two of you.

mark had said his name. and you'd said, "i know."

you wondered if the look mark gave you was one of amusement or concern.

nonetheless, he was everything you thought he'd be. you were glad he didn't seem weirded out by your overt clinginess or how much you seemed to latch onto his opinion. you'd do almost anything for his approval: often discarding interests he'd make off-handed comments about, convincing yourself you didn't really like it all that much, anyway. you knew you wanted to be around him all the time. . but you didn't know what to do about the butterflies you'd get whenever the two of you made eye contact.

cupid was funny.

cupid had a way of coming into your life when you least expected it. when it was least convenient. and you found yourself embarrassed by your own emotions. it's just a crush, you'd told yourself, it'll go away. because, how deep could your feelings for mark really go?

surely, it was innocent. mark was the first boy who'd flashed a smile in your direction and your heart immediately started doing summersaults. it was the raging hormones. . kid stuff.

you were sure of it.

but years passed and cupid wouldn't leave you alone.

finally, you'd worked up the courage to tell him how you felt. made up an excuse about needing help with a couple of classes and mark - always so sweet - told you he'd be glad to help. you'd stuttered through your confession. but mark never made a face. in fact, he'd let you down so nicely it was hard to be upset. he'd given you a warm smile, told you you were sweet. . but he wasn't looking for a romantic relationship.

cupid was cruel, you decided.

you tried convincing yourself: that's fine. that's okay.

mark viewed you as nothing more than a friend and you understood that. you weren't angry. just. . stung. and when he'd started dating amber, then eve, you thought to yourself: so much for not being ready for a romantic relationship.

it wasn't long until you realized that actually meant, i'm not ready for a romantic relationship with you.

you couldn't blame him. not really. amber and eve were gorgeous, there was no denying it. and eve had something you didn't. eve related to mark in a way neither amber or you could. and you understood that. but that didn't mean you particularly liked it.

you'd sit with william at the lunch table and try not to tune out his talking, but you'd end up doing it, anyway. you'd zone out and look across the table as mark and his girlfriend laughed to whatever joke he'd most likely said. mark would walk his fingers across the table and gently hold his partner's hand, caressing the top of it with his thumb and they'd smile and giggle. and you'd think to yourself, how i'd like to have a love like that.

not just with anyone, but with mark.

you felt mark was the only one who'd give you that type of love. that type of feeling in your chest. the thump, thump, thump necessary to have your lips splitting into a grin and your world smelling like saccharine and hibiscus. you wanted a love like his.

you wanted him.

and you ignored william aiming fries at your head and trying to call you back down to earth - "hello, anyone home?" - as you dreamily stared across the table.

you'd play the game. you'd wait. for as long as the relationship would last and hopefully, mark would turn his sights on you, next.

the two of you remained friends, of course you did. mark was nice. he was genuine and sweet and he'd never push you away because of some innocent crush. he'd always make sure not to leave you out of his plans. but he was weary, because many of those plans, involved having eve around, too. and he'd pulled you aside once and told you,

"i don't want it to be weird. you're still my friend, y'know?"

and you'd joked, "it won't be! i'm over you, anyway~"

and the two of you laughed and that was that. you excused yourself to the bathroom and splashed water in your face to fight back tears. that was that.

you knew boundaries would have to be set so you wouldn't step on her toes. eve was good for mark, you'd never do anything to hurt her. and you didn't want her to think you disliked her by not going to an event just because she was going to be there.

so, despite everything in you screaming at you not to - you agree to go to that party. even when you knew eve would be there, too.

mark wouldn't have had it any other way.

you had fun. and you convinced yourself it was fine to dance with william while mark and eve cuddled close. it was fine.

you convinced yourself you were drinking to let loose, not to forget about that ugly feeling brewing in your chest. one drink turned into two.

two and then. . you'd lost count.

liquor goes down easy when it's sweet and you've always liked the things you're not supposed to have.

so, it was only a matter of time when they dragged you into the middle of a game of truth or dare. william - bless his heart - had tried to sober you up before you made a mistake. but liquor made you brave. it made you fun. and in your drunken stupor: you'd admitted you were a touchless, kiss-less virgin.

you wish you'd been sober enough to see mark's face.

in hindsight, you should've been.

a few months later and mark couldn't keep his hands off of you.

"no, she won't find out. she won't care.

no, we do this all the time.

it's an arrangement we have, me and her, we. . it's complicated. she's done this before. it happens. it's not that big a deal~"

it was college, he'd said, things change. it's good, healthy even, for a couple to experiment with others. that's what college is all about: exploring. figuring out what you like and what you don't. says eve is doing the same.

but for someone who claims to have an open relationship, mark does his best to keep the two of you a secret. he won't let you near eve for the life of you. and you watch his face screw up with indignation whenever you mention her. you ask what's wrong, and he changes the subject, says he just wants to focus on you. but you're not dumb. you know what he's playing at. and you know you should be mad. you should be furious he's playing you like this but you're not and that's the problem.

you don't care what attention he's giving you as long as it's attention.

so you let him.

you let him when your parents aren't home and when eve is preoccupied with something else. you let him into your room even though he's not supposed to be there. you let him smother you in kisses and slip his hands beneath your shirt, his warm hands smoothing up your waist, blunt nails dragging across your ribs. and before you know it, you're raising your arms to help him take your shirt off.

you let him hook his hands around your thighs and pull you towards him, slotting himself closer between your thighs as his hands slide beneath your skirt, sliding off your panties without taking the skirt off, just bunching it up and flipping it over on your belly to expose your embarrassingly wet cunt.

the way he can work you up from just making out is almost pathetic. he's barely touched you and you're already leaking for him. the two of you are inexperienced. . more so you than mark.

he's shown you how to kiss, how to touch him, hell, even how to touch yourself. but he hasn't shown you how to cum ;( you don't get to do that without his permission.

he says that, despite this, he's still never had sex. the furthest he's gone has been outercourse stuff. says eve isn't ready. says he understands, but he likes you. he really does. and if it were ever to amount to more. . he wishes it was you.

mark 'just the tip' grayson who holds open your thighs in a bruising grip when you try to close them. asks you to keep them open, pretty please, and proceeds to tongue at your clit like he's trying to make you sing. (he is).

coaxes slick out of your cunt while he nurses on your puffy little clit and stuffs his fingers inside you while his hips rut against the bed. the way he's tasting you has you on edge and the two of you promised there'd be no funny business until the two of you are actually ready. . but your fingers are tangled in his hair and his cock is slicking up your sheets because he's shoved his pants down beneath his ass ;( its like the two of you are in heat and when you pull mark up to kiss him you taste yourself on his tongue and the way you're moaning into each others mouths somehow makes the room's temperature sky-rocket.

mark 'just the tip' grayson who says the magic words with glossy eyes and a blush high on his face. he looks so needy and debauched, all messy hair and swollen lips. begs you, "baby please" just the tip. he promises. no more, he just wants to feel you.

and then he'll pull out and make you cum so hard you'll see stars.

mark 'just the tip' grayson who fucks his cock between your pussy lips, his eyes locked between your legs as he watches his cock slide against your swollen cunt. he's drunk on you, the way you smell, the way you look, the little sounds you make and how your hips flinch whenever the head of his cock pushes against your clit. who hisses, "i'm gonna breed that little cunt." and ignores the look you give him.

it's just dirty talk, a little voice in your head says.

but another tells you you can't bring yourself to care what it is as long as he keeps his hands on you.

you watch with nervous excitement as he takes his cock in hand and redirects it towards your opening. looks you in the eyes and slowly pushes against resistance until the head of his cock pops in.

the two of you tense and you squeak so loud mark doesn't know how he doesn't immediately cum. you squeeze immediately and you feel and look so damn good. your skin is hot to the touch and you're partly dressed, a pretty little 'o' to your lips as your toes curl with the fullness you feel. the head of his cock is so fat it's borderline uncomfortable but he's hot inside you and the pressure feels different and good, nothing like his fingers and you're so, so dizzy. your head swimming with thoughts of only him. the way his hair was mussed by your hands, his bite swollen lips, and the way his eyes fluttered shut when he first slid into you are memories you're sure you'll never forget.

but it doesn't stop your heart from racing when he inches just a bit deeper. you've only had fingers inside you before and he's too much. . too soon.

you tell him you cant take it but he knows you can.

mark 'just the tip' grayson who folds you in half and feeds his cock into your cunt despite your protests. despite you trying to push his hips away with shaking hands, crying out as you find you have no leverage. your legs uselessly kicking out against his shoulders.

mark 'just the tip' grayson who mounts you and stays on top of you, his knees against the back of your thighs and his ball sack snug against your perineum while his cock throbs deep down inside your pussy. who has to blink stars out of his eyes because, jesus, he's inside of you. and you're tighter than anyone he's ever had.

he's taken amber's cherry.

and he's taken eve's.

but yours might be his favorite <3

mark 'just the tip' grayson who stuffs your panties in your mouth when your parents come back home and he doesn't want to stop fucking you. if you weren't ready, if you didn't want it, then why is your slick stretching, sticky and viscous, threading and snapping with each of his thrusts, making lewd wet sounds that resonate in the room whenever his balls smack against your ass and his pubic bone grinds against your swollen little clit?

if you weren't ready why is your cream collecting at the base of his cock, frothing around him and hypnotizing him. if you weren't ready, why are your hands holding a pillow over your face to cover your whimpers as he drills into you in a mating press, why aren't you pushing him away? why are your hips bucking against his, chasing him, why is your pussy clenching around him and why are your moans getting louder?

why do you squeak out in ecstasy when he sloppily grinds into you and cums at the very back of your pussy? why do you tense and cry when he rubs your needy clit and pinches the gummy flesh between thumb and forefinger, when he spreads your lips open and spits on your clit, smudging the saliva there even if it isn't necessary? If you weren't ready, why do your legs lock around his waist for round two?

he said he's never done this before but as he wrings a second orgasm out of you. . forcing your back into an arch as you cry into the pillow, you're not so sure that's true.

#hes so silly <3 #my thoughts about mark are concerning to feminism #cherry!chaser mark for the win #mark grayson #mark grayson x reader #invincible #invincible x reader #yandere mark grayson x reader #yandere mark grayson

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sanzusslutt · 1 year

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Thinking about Roommate!Eren... part 2

part 1 part 3

cw: this part contains masturbation. minors leave before I hunt your dreams.

Roommate!Eren who when he showers comes out of the bathroom with just a loose towel wrapped around his torso, not covering enough of his bottom half as he should to protect your hungry eyes.

Roommate!Eren who wakes up midnight wanting to eat something but instead hearing weird sounds coming from your room, right behind his wall. breathing, panting, moaning. his eyes grew wide at your sounds as he feels his abdomen come to life and getting harder with every one of your moans.

Roommate!Eren who placed his ear against the wall to hear your sounds better as he guided his hands towards the tend in his pants. your sounds becoming louder and louder as he started lowering his pants and palming himself through his underwear.

Roommate!Eren who's cock got unbearably hard so fast he couldn't even believe it. fluids staining his underwear as he finally took the decision to take off the last piece of clothing he had on and let his veiny cock rest free against his torso.

Roommate!Eren who started teasing himself by doing circles with his thumb against the angry red tip of his cock. maybe having your bed to the wall your roommate has his bed on the other side, wasn't such a good idea. for him though, it was the best.

Roommate!Eren who pumped his dick slow, trying to find the rhythm you used. concentrating on your sounds, he tried to picture in his head how you'd look right now against the thin wall that's separated you. hair messy, lips glossy and red from the biting, hair sticking on your forehead, one of your breasts probably out of your pink top and your legs spread open as your panties and pants are somewhere in your room.

Roommate!Eren who's hand used a faster pace as you both started coming towards your release. it hasn't even been that long since he started and he can already feel his balls tighten. he was a beautiful mess in minutes. he of course has jerked off to the thought of you but your sounds weren't even close to what he had imagined.

Roommate!Eren who muffled his moans and groans with his shirt by bitting it and exposing his flexed abs in fear you would find out he was fisting his cock to you fucking one of your toys. he knew he was being a perv but it was too good to stop. he was long gone...

Roommate!Eren who tighten the grip around his cock, imagining he was the cause you made those sinful sounds as he stretched you open with his big dick instead of the silicone. his breath fastened as he stepped closer and closer to the edge.

Roommate!Eren who knew he couldn't last any longer and with one last of your high-pitched moans, you both came in unison. you, with the silicone toy stuffed deep in your walls, legs slightly shaking and hand covering your mouth to stop the ungodly noises coming out of your throat.

Roommate!Eren who fisted his big cock two or three times more, riding his high. now he is a charming mess, panting as he tried to catch his breath, hair sticking on his forehead, teeth clenched with the shirt between them, abs flexing beautifully and covered in white thick cum.

Roommate!Eren who took a tissue to clean the mess he made, that you were to blame, get up and finally eat something. unfortunately that wasn't you..

Roommate!Eren who never mentioned anything but that night never left his mind. he would die to relive that moment or even have you under him. given that, he always stood out of your room at midnight hoping he would have the chance to get to you. even if you weren't awake though, he would just come inside and probably jerk off above your sleeping face. that bastard..

Just thinking about Roommate!Eren...

part 3? btw requests are open!

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monrageo · 9 months

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Saw a lot of Spider-Steve art so I had to jump in. Most art modernised him but I want my 80s, mallrat, neon lights Spider-Man + I wrote his origin story. *POSES FOUND ON PINTEREST*

Also Steve looks great in the classic red and blue but I wanted him to have his own costume so yellow he shall be. Now onto my headcanons.

In a world where Hawkins is a megapolis a teen boy gets bitten by a radioactive spider in 83’ while visiting Hawkins Lab (Think less abandoned more Oscorp/Alchemax) and so it begins. He starts doing small good things around the city, experimenting with his powers.

But he isn’t thinking about being a superhero or anything close to that (I imagine the drawing with the sweats and goggles is his first “costume”). Then he gets with this amazing girl-Nancy Wheeler.

Life is looking up for Steve he’s got these weird powers that get him to be the basketball and swim team captain. He’s popular, he’s got this amazing girl that inspires him to be better and better.

He looses his popular crowd friends, he wants to be better. He starts thinking about the superhero thing and actually goes through with it. He isn’t shouting it from the rooftops but news is getting around that a guy in spandex is busting criminals- Spider-man/King Spider.

Steve gets cocky, thinks he’s on top of the world, untouchable. Then Will Byers goes missing-that’s a whole separate story. Nancy and John start their investigation. Steve gets jealous etc.

In the end a battle breaks out and Steve is unable to save one person-Barbara Holland. His girlfriend’s best friend. That of course destroys Nancy. She doesn’t know Steve is Spider-man, she seeks comfort in him but things are not the same.

There’s this whole thing with Jonathan, the obvious attraction, the compatibility. But also Steve’s guilt, his self hatred. He realises he was too blindsided by his cockiness. Barb’s death is on his hands. He breaks up with Nancy and solely focuses on being the best Spider-man he can be.

That of course costs him friends etc. but when you’ve been through what he has high school drama just seems pointless… and so King Steve falls from the throne.

I imagine the Nancy story line parallels the Gwen Stacy one in the original comics (without the death and clones), maybe Nancy even blames and hates Spider-man the way Gwen did… that also contributes to the Stancy break-up.

Perhaps Nancy becomes hyper focused on catching this Spider-man so he can be held accountable for Barb’s death.

Anyways now Steddie, I think Eddie would love Spider-man / King Spider he’s some guy with spider powers and bright spandex that helps people, super camp, Eddie would love him.

I think Steve starts noticing Eddie in a new light when his lunch table tirades now also include how awesome spider-man is. This unapologetic support makes the now loser Steve feel like it is all worth it-the stress, the pain, the loneliness-

Tough he of course knows Eddie isn’t talking about him, he’s talking about Spider-man, the hero. Not the former popular guy Steve Harrington.

I have many ideas regarding a Stranger things!Spider-verse and which characters could be what. Maybe Barb’s death was something Lizard-like, but upside down version. Like something from the lap infected her? I like the idea of Steve’s father being involved in the labs, perhaps as a Norman Osborn parallel, without becoming the Goblin though.

The goblin/Norman/Harry Osborn storyline could be reimagined with Tommy perhaps??? Then Venom with Eddie (so perfect) or Billy (a tragic end)??

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #spiderman #spidersona #digital art #monrageo art

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coryosbaby · 1 year

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Ultraviolence - E.L & C.M

(Pt. 4)

Fandom: “Scream Vi”

Pairing: stepbrother! Ethan Landry x fem! Reader, Chad Meeks Martin x fem! Reader, Ethan Landry x Chad Meeks Martin

Warning: stepcest A/n: It’s finally here ‼️ I apologize for the wait yall 🤝(stepbrother x stepsister), threesome, double penetration, oral (f & m recieving), cum play, daddy kink, degradation/praise, switch! Reader, switch!Chad,dark! Ethan, dom! Ethan

A/n: It’s finally here ‼️ I apologize for the wait yall 🤝

You’ve been hanging out with Chad a lot recently.

It’s the first thing Ethan notices after the whole ‘fucking at a party” ordeal. And the second thing he notices, is that you have gotten really extroverted.

It’s been a few weeks, so the change makes it course over time. But you’re so much more different than before; where you once wore your little outfits with a shyness to you, you now strut around like you own the place. You speak more, present yourself more. You’ve also went to a few parties here and there. And honestly, Ethan can’t blame you for that. You’re beautiful and perfect, and why would he expect you not to think it yourself? And why wouldn’t he expect you, as a young woman, to go and make your own decisions?

It’s just that, Ethan hates change.

At the beginning, you were supposed to be his. His little secret, his little doll to play with and fuck. And now Chad has joined the mix, and it’s all different. It makes his head spin.

Your parents, Chad, and Ethan are at the kitchen table when you come barreling down the stairs. Its a hot day, like most of this summer, and your cheeks are red and flushed. You’ve been getting sunburn a lot more, it seems.

Chad has been staying over a lot more, too. Maybe partly to hang out with Ethan, but the doe eyed boy knows it’s more than that. Because the moment he’s left alone, Chad is somehow ending up next to you. His hand always rests on your knee, and you always tilt your head back and giggle at what he says. It’s ridiculous.

You smile brightly at Ethan, and move over to kiss Chad on the cheek.

“Goodmorning, guys!”

Ethan scowls at your affection, at your happy demeanor. He doesn’t like to be left out. but then you’re pressing a kiss to his cheek, too. That surprises him, and his eyebrows raise. Your parents don’t seem to notice, too wrapped up in the conversation about bills they’re having to care. And maybe you don’t seem to care, anymore. You aren’t as discreet, aren’t shy to touch Ethan or actually spend more time with him in front of your parents. Maybe it’s better this way.

Except for Chad.

“Goodmorning, bunny.” Chad’s eyes follow your form, and he smiles up at you. “You look pretty today.”

The fucking nickname.

Chad’s been calling you that since the night of the party, when he had went home with you and Ethan and tucked your body into your bed and kissed you goodnight. Ethan had stayed with you, after that, and held you until you went to sleep. Chad had thanked him, and Ethan can remember it all clearly now: the expanse of Chad’s jaw as he spoke, his hazel eyes looking at him in appreciation. He had had a nervous flush to his cheeks. Ironic, considering what they had just done. He had almost looked...cute.

Wait, what?

And this is what brings Ethan to immense confusion. He stares at the bowl of fruit loops in front of him, and contemplates what the fuck he just thought.

And then he looks over at Chad again, from across the table. He’s letting you sit in his lap, and he’s feeding you a piece of toast.

You both look good, today. You’re wearing a tiny pink crop top, and a little skirt hangs low around your hips, thigh highs and garter belt showing. Ethan notices that you’ve been wearing them a lot, recently. And Chad is wearing one of Ethan’s Coldplay tee shirts, one Ethan has seen him in a thousand times whenever he stays over.

But now, he notices, it fits him quite well.

He audibly groans, and loudly. You and Chad’s eyes go to him, eyebrows raised, and he tilts his head back and sighs.

“I’m going upstairs,” he grumbles. The chair makes a loud scraping sound as he gets out of it, and you cringe. You notice the way his hands are clenched at his sides as he walks up the stairs.

“What was that about?” Wayne asks. He’s clearly uninterested; his reading glasses are perched on his nose and he’s looking at the mail. You shrug. Sometimes you wonder if he even has a personality, honestly.

It’s later that night, and Chad is staying over again.

He’s asleep beside Ethan, and he’s snoring softly. Something he’s been doing since high school; Ethan’s bed is like his own.

And when Ethan’s eyes are resting against his pillow, he hears the door open.

He knows it’s you, can smell your strawberry perfume from a mile away. He turns over, and lifts his head up to look at you.

You nervously twiddle your fingers and whisper.

“I’m sorry I woke you up.”

He shakes his head, looking down at your pretty pink nightgown and your bare feet sliding across the hardwood floor.

“You didn’t. What’s wrong, angel?”

“I uhm—“ you hesitate, and Ethan notices the tears going down your face. He sits up immediately, careful not to wake Chad, and moves over to you and pushes you out of earshot. He holds your face in his hands.

“You can tell me.”

“I just had a n-nightmare, that’s all..”

He wipes your tears away and pulls you into a hug. He’s sweet, pressing kisses to your cheeks and holding you for a moment so you can rest.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asks.

You hesitate, but then nod.

“We can go outside next to the pool, if you want,” Ethan suggests. And when you agree, he’s quietly pulling you down the stairs. When you open the sliding door to go outside the concrete is warm underneath your feet; it’s a hot summer night, but not hot enough to be excruciating. Just enough to bring comfort. You sit down beside the pool and let your bare feet rest in the water. Ethan sits down beside you, his fingers brushing against yours.

“What was your nightmare about?” He asks.

“We got caught.” You murmur. “In the dream, we got caught. And they wouldn’t- wouldn’t let me see you..”

Ethan frowns. He doesn’t like thinking about that fact.

“We won’t get caught, honey.” Ethan coos. “And even if we did.. nothing will stop me from being around you. Nothing.”

The way he says it makes you shiver. His tone is dark, and you can see the way his fists are clenched at his sides. And when he relaxes, he begins to speak.

“Can I ask you something?” He says.

“Of course.”

“Do you like Chad?” He already knows your answer. There’s no need to say it.

“…Do you?” You glance at him, and he shrugs.

“I don’t know,” he murmurs. “Maybe.”

You place your hand on his thigh, and softly draw circles into clothed skin. He sighs and begins to relax. His hand goes up to cup your cheek in his palm.

You hesitate when his lips almost touch yours.

“We shouldn’t. Not here.”

“Oh c’mon, baby…” his teeth nip at your earlobe, and that’s all it takes before he slips his fingers underneath your nightgown.

“Don’t you want to make your big brother proud?”

And after, after he’s inpaled you on his thick length beside that pool, after he’s filled you full of his cum, he carries you back into his room. Chad surfaces when he feels your body land next to his. His eyes crack open, and in the darkness of the room, he can smell your sweet scent.

“Y/n?” He questions groggily, and you let out a little giggle.

“Mhm.”

“C’mere.” His hands guide your head to his chest, and you curl up against him eagerly. Then the boys eyes furrow in confusion.

“Wait, where’s Eth?”

“Right here, man.” Ethan says from the other side of you.

“Oh shit, hey!” Chad says in surprise. He can be so dumb sometimes.

And then he’s clearing his throat and muttering.

“You can- you can move closer.. If you want to.”

Ethan ponders, and then he’s nodding as a smile is plastered onto his face.

“Sure.”

He curls his body up, cheek resting on you shoulder, and his hand goes to lay across Chad’s lower stomach. Chad, yawns, and grabs Ethan’s hand as he goes back to sleep again.

Ethan doesn’t really care that Chad is here anymore.

I mean, he’s his best friend, right? And best friends always share.

Even each other.

And that’s evident now as Ethan’s lips are attached to Chad’s with an imminent longing.

It’s the first time they’ve kissed; and although it should be awkward, it’s not. Things have just always flowed between them like that. It’s easy.

You giggle as Chad moves from Ethan’s mouth to yours, lips swollen and kiss bitten. He’s got his shirt off, Ethan with his pants unbuckled and hair mussed. It seems that deciding to go to Chad’s apartment was a good idea.

“I told you guys you should’ve kissed sooner. I knew there was something going on!” You say. Ethan rolls his eyes. He hates when you’re right.

“Yeah, yeah, princess.” Chad teases. “Why don’t you take that little top off and come suck me off, hm?”

“Why don’t you let Ethan do it?”

Chad lets out a breath, and his cheeks become ablazed as he sees the look Ethan gives him.

“You want that, Chad?” Ethan asks. The boy nods, pretty eyes incredibly dark from the intimacy of the whole situation. The fact that he has the most beautiful girl and boy in his bedsheets right now is making his brain fuzzy.

Ethan grins, big frame moving over to push Chad down onto the sheets below him. He huffs.

“Why do you always have to be so aggressive about everything?”

“Bite me.”

“Maybe.”

The thing about Chad is, with you he’s so used to being in control. But when it comes to Ethan, he really just wants to sit back and submit. He doesn’t really know why; maybe it’s the other boy’s cockiness that makes him seem so intimidating, something about his build and that grin he gives Chad whenever he tells him about one of his shitty hookups. He’s never felt this way about another guy, but he doesn’t hate it. And as Ethan pulls down Chad’s briefs and pulls the boy’s thighs over his own, he whines.

“Eth, c’mon.. I want you to use your mouth. Please?”

It’s the first time you’ve ever heard Chad beg. And honestly, it sounds like something you’d like to hear more often. You watch as Ethan grabs Chad’s hard length in his hand, the tip flushed and leaking precum.

“No. Don’t be greedy. Besides, we still have to make our bunny feel good, don’t we?”

Chad flushes, arm going up to cover his face.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, baby. Bunny, C’mere.”

You crawl on your hands and knees over to Chad. He smiles, going up to press a kiss to your lips.

“I’m gonna take my cock out, sweet girl. Think you can use your hands on me?”

“Yes sir.”

“Good girl.”

Your hands reach into Ethan’s pants and you pull him out. You sigh in content, lips wandering over his biceps as you stroke his cock. He groans, leaning back to kiss you again. Chad makes a noise of displeasure, and it gets Ethan’s attention. He chuckles, hands going to stroke his thighs.

“Do you need something?” He jokes.

Chad pouts. “I want a kiss, too.”

“Poor baby.”

And then Ethan is pulling Chad up. The boy whines, lips crashing against Ethan’s again. He smiles into the kiss. Your hand is still stroking him, only steadily, but begins to increase in speed as his tongue goes into Chad’s mouth. Ethan groans harshly, pulling away.

“Little minx. Come give Chad a kiss.”

You smile, leaning over to give him one. Chad’s eyelashes flutter shut at the feeling of your soft hands going up to stroke his hair.

“Good boy..” you whisper. Chad keens, forehead resting against yours.

“Am I really?”

“Of course you are. Now lay back down, okay?”

His body goes down onto the bed and Ethan pulls him back over his thighs again. You move to the end of the bed, near his head. Your fingers softly stroke his face. His eyes flutter shut, and his mind becomes engulfed in the many sensations. Ethan begins to stroke him again.

“Oh! God..”

The boy can’t keep still, his hips chasing that beautiful friction. Ethan spits down on him.

“Good fuckin’ boy. I bet you wanna cum so bad, don’t you?”

“Yes!.. c-can bunny ride my face? Please?”

The nickname and the fact that he’s still worried about your orgasm makes you smile.

“Yeah, baby. She can.” Ethan replies.

You remove your panties, Chad looking up at you with a dazed look and his face contorted in pleasure. Your wetness trickles down your thighs as you sit down on the boy’s face. His reaction is immediate; the moment your pussy is close to him, he grabs you by your ass and holds you down onto him. His tongue rubs your swollen clit with vigor, and you gasp. Chad loves eating pussy, but you’ve got to top all of the other ones he’s become familiar with. Your juices are perfect, bitter and sweet all at once, making his hips fuck into Ethan’s hands more. If he could just sit there and take your wetness down his throat for the rest of his life, he would.

“Look at that,” Ethan coos. “Both my babies look so precious. Does his tongue feel good on your little clit, sweet girl?”

You nod aggressively. Your hands are dripping your tits harshly as you bounce up and down on him. “Feels s’good, daddy.”

“Yeahhh, that’s my fuckin’ girl. Bet you want both those little holes used, don’t you? Want them dripping both our loads?”

The thought of it makes your eyes roll back, and Chad moans underneath you. You feel your orgasm nearing, tummy tightening.

“‘M gonna cum.. oh! God, pleasepleaseplease-“

“Yeah. Go on, cum on our boy’s face.”

And when you do, you’re tilting your head back and obeying Ethan’s orders, just like you always do.

The next day Ethan is bending you over the desk in his bedroom. He’s harsh, hips slapping your thighs in the most filthy way. The door lays wide open because no one is home. Ethan’s hands are wrapped around your throat. His grip is incredibly tight, and he pulls your body against his in an unnatural bent position. He’s fucking you, so careless, as if you’re nothing to him. And although that’s not the case, the incredibly large cock kissing your cervix seems to deem otherwise. Sounds leave your sweet mouth as he pounds your little cunt, whispering dirty praises.

“You’re so fuckin’ tight- love this pussy so much, fuck!” He groans, his cock twitching.

“I know s-sir, feels s’good…”

Your legs shake, body trembling, your sticky wetness coating Ethan’s cock, and he spreads you apart to watch your pussy be pummeled by him.

“God. Look at you, baby. Yeah, you’re my good little slut. So pretty..”

His hand reaches around and he begins to aggressively rub your clit. Your juices gush out and fall down your thighs, your orgasm drawing near. And with one last squeeze to Ethan’s gigantic length, you cum. He groans, and his hips are stuttering as he fills you up for the third time that week. The fact that you aren’t pregnant is beyond the both of you.

When Ethan pulls out, your body lays limp against the wooden desk. Drool is all over your chin and lips. You smile, dazed, and let out a small giggle.

Ethan smiles, bringing his hand down to stroke your back.

“You okay?”

“‘M perfect, E. Can you help me up, please?”

He does, ever the gentleman, and brings you over to his bed. You stumble a bit, due to the process of getting up too quick and because of your sore legs, but you manage. And when Ethan joins you on the bed, he’s pulling your body against his equally nude one. His softening cock rests softly against your hip, and he kisses your cheek.

“Go to sleep, sweet thing. I’ll clean up.”

You nod, eyes droopy, and drift off.

Ethan really did mean to clean up. But your hair smelled so nice, and he hadn’t got a lot of sleep the night before. So, he falls asleep against your back, his lips pressed against your shoulder blade.

You were both so content that you never heard the sound of the door opening and closing. The sound of your parent’s voices carrying throughout the house. And when Ethan’s dad decides to make a trip upstairs, when he walks past Ethan’s room, his booming voice makes you both jolt awake.

“What the hell is going on here?!”

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kaiijo · 1 year

Text

GOM + KAGAMI AS ROMANCE TROPES — [KNB]

characters: kuroko tetsuya, kagami taiga, aomine daiki, kise ryouta, midorima shintarou, murasakibara atsushi, akashi seijuurou content: gn! reader, tooth-rotting fluff, aomine’s is set when he and reader are college-aged + vorpal swords is a professional club notes: finally proving my love for my bball boys and living up to my username

⋆｡° kuroko tetsuya — soulmates

You were constantly looking over your shoulder, from the moment you were born to right now. No one could really blame you, what with the words “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you” written on your arm from the day you were born. They were supposed to be the first words your soulmate spoke to you and you were supposed to be excited for the words, but you were just scared that your supposed one true love would be some creep or a serial killer.

You had moved from Okinawa up to Tokyo for high school, a move that your parents made so your brother could pursue track at one of the top high schools for the sport. Meanwhile, you had enrolled in Seirin High.

Sitting in class, you cursed your luck for being assigned a seat in the first row. You listened passively as your classmates’ names were called on roll. One by one, your teacher went down the list until she reached, “Kuroko Tetusya?”

“Right here, ma’am.” The whole class jumped at the quiet voice and you stared at the boy three seats behind you and to your left. When had he gotten there?

You turned back to face the front, sighing and shaking your head. You raised your hand when the teacher called your name, zoning out for the rest of the class. It wasn’t until your teacher said that she wanted you to turn and talk to a classmate and introduce yourselves that you listened back in.

You looked around with a frown; it seemed that most people just picked their desk neighbors or people that they were already acquainted with from middle school. Great, so you’d be the loner kid from out of town with no friends. Awesome. You turned to look back the teacher when you saw that there was someone right to your left — that super quiet kid, Kuroko. “What the heck!” you yelped. “When did you get here?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

You two stared at each other for a solid twenty seconds, silent, before you bashfully said, “Hi, I’m Y/n.” You held your hand out.

“I’m Kuroko Tetsuya.” He took your hand and shook it with a warm smile. “It’s nice to meet you, soulmate.”

⋆｡° kagami taiga — friends to lovers

“What the hell happened here?” you asked Kagami as you two packed up for the day. You held his English language test in hand, pointing at the big ‘30%’ circled in red ink at the top of the paper. “Are you sure we both lived in America because—?”

“Shut up,” he grumbled, snatching the paper from your hand. You snorted, poking his side and narrowly avoiding the swipe he aimed at your head.

You had known Kagami since you were kids in the United States, though you returned to Japan earlier than him because your dad’s job moved him back. It was a total coincidence that you wound up at Seirin together, reconnecting in your English language class.

“Yikes,” you said. “Better call Alex and brush up on your English.”

As you exited the school building, Kagami shoved you lightly, though it was enough to set you off-balance and almost careening into the ground. You would’ve if Kagami hadn’t grabbed your arm, sheepishly offering an apology. “Jeez, Taiga, know your own strength. Some of us aren’t as buff as you, you know?”

Kagami went a little red and he looked away from you. “Can we stop by Maji Burger on the way back?” he asked.

“Yeah, I’m actually kind of hungry.”

You took the train over and you sent Kagami to the register to order for the two of you, sliding into a booth. As you scrolled through your social media, you didn’t notice some guy sliding into the seat across from you. He cleared his throat and you looked up, eyebrows raising. “Can I help you with something?”

“Yeah, I saw you across the restaurant and just had to ask for your number.”

“Oh, uh… I’m sorry, but I don’t think I can do that.”

“Why, you got a boyfriend or something?”

“Yeah, me—” Your head whipped over to see Kagami, standing with a tray stacked with burgers and fries. “—so you can fuck off.”

The guy’s mouth opened and closed, taking in Kagami’s large frame and mean scowl and seemingly deciding that it wasn’t worth it, slinking off with his tail between his legs. Kagami practically growled at his retreating back, settling into the seat across from you and dropping the tray on the table with more force than necessary. You watched him as he unwrapped a burger and took a big bite, still frowning. “So,” you said, “you’re my boyfriend now?”

He avoided your eyes and mumbled something around his food. You reached across the table and poked his forehead. “What was that?”

Quietly, he repeated, “If you want me to be.”

Your face warmed but you gave him a small smile and said, “Maybe take me on a date first.”

He perked up and said, “Deal.”

⋆｡° aomine daiki — second chances

Aomine, for all his pride and bravado, admitted that he wasn’t the best boyfriend in high school, especially when the two of you dated in your first year. He understood now that instead of an equal give and take for the two of you, he really just took and took and gave you very little. But he was older now, more mature, more reflective, and you were standing a few feet away from him in the coffee shop Momoi begged him to visit to get her some new, overly sugary treat that was trending on social media.

He had to do a double-take when he first walked in, having heard a laugh while he tapped through Instagram stories (Kuroko had taken a video of Kagami tripping over a wet floor sign, Kise was promoting for some skincare brand, and Akashi was in Ishigaki for the weekend). His heart leapt to his throat; when you turned from the cashier to make your way to the pick-up counter, he confirmed it. It really was you. Your hair was a little shorter and your style changed quite a bit but he would know that laugh anywhere.

“Dude.” Aomine snapped out of his daze and glanced over his shoulder as some scowling middle school kid. “Move up, it’s your turn.”

Aomine didn’t reply, approaching the cash register and ordering Momoi’s viral, heart attack-inducing pastry and a coffee for himself, doing his best to subtly glance over to where you were patiently waiting for your own drink. He shuffled to the pick up counter, standing a respectable distance away from you. Did you know he was there?

“Aomine!” The barista called, and he watched your head shoot up from your phone and you glanced to your right, eyes meeting his.

He grabbed his coffee and the pastry, unsure of what he should do next. Should he say something to you? It would be dick move to just walk away without a word.

“Aomine,” you said, breaking the ice first. “It’s been a while.”

“Yeah,” he said, frowning a little at the use of his last name. “How have you been?”

“I’ve been pretty good, studying environmental science. What about you? You’re playing for Vorpal Swords now, right?”

His eyebrows raised and something sparked in his chest. You still kept up with his basketball career? He nodded and you replied, “That’s cool.” The silence that followed was a little awkward, but neither of you made any attempts to move.

“I remember you always liked biology class,” Aomine said finally, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m glad you’re doing what you love.”

That seemed to pull a genuine smile from you and Aomine’s chest tightened. “Yeah, I really do like it. I could say the same for you though.”

The barista called your name and you jumped a little at the sound. As you grabbed it and before he could stop himself, Aomine asked, “Iced latte with oat milk and vanilla syrup?”

You looked surprised. “I’m… I’m honestly shocked you remember something like that.”

“We bought coffee almost every day before school,” he said. “Always running late because of it.”

“Hey! We ran late because you couldn’t wake up to your eight alarms, dummy.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, yeah.”

Silence followed again and you rocked a little on your heels before telling him, “I should get going. I have to help my roommate study for a quiz.”

“Right,” he said. “Yeah, it was… nice running into you.”

“You too, Aomine.” He watched you walk out the door and it was only a few seconds before he was racing out of the cafe.

He yelled your name, drawing stares from other pedestrians. You turned around and Aomine asked, “Wanna get coffee here again? Saturday at eleven?”

You smiled back at him. “Sounds like a plan. You better wake up to those alarms… Daiki.”

⋆｡° kise ryouta — fake dating

During a break in his basketball practice, Kise ran up to you from where you sat in the stands. “Look, Y/n-chii,” he said, showing you his phone screen. You glanced at it, a selfie of Kise with his arm wrapped around your shoulders, both of you are grinning. The caption read: no one else i’d rather be with <3. “We’re so cute together.”

You laughed weakly, “We are.”

A month ago, Kise asked you to pose as his partner since his sisters were going to be around for the month. They had been bothering him about getting a partner and he had gotten sick of the teasing and nagging. The two of you hadn’t been friends exactly but you weren’t strangers; you had been in a handful of classes and worked on a few projects in and out of school. You weren’t really sure why you agreed. You guessed it was that gravitational pull that Kise had that made him irresistible to women and men alike.

You were a bit embarrassed to say that you originally judged Kise as just a pretty face but the month revealed to you that it was absolutely untrue. While he may not be book smart or excel in school, Kise was emotionally intelligent, a beast on the basketball court, and — as you found out through a series of encounters with some of his fans — highly protective of those he cared about.

He took you out on cute “dates,” you met his sisters and parents, and you tried (and failed) to beat him in some spontaneous street basketball matches. You had to admit that you had a really, really good time fake dating Kise. Maybe too good a time. Your heart raced when he leaned against you, enveloping you in the comforting scent of his cologne, when he slid his hand into yours, when he kissed your cheeks when you met his family.

You felt like a complete fool, falling for a guy so out of your reach.

“Hey,” he said and you nearly leapt out of your skin when you saw that Kise had made his way into the stands and sat down next to you. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” you said. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

He frowned, unconvinced, but he didn’t push it. Instead, he looked out over the basketball court and said, “Can’t believe the month’s almost done.”

You chewed your bottom lip and tried to make a joke: “How dramatic do you want the breakup to be?”

Kise said, “That’s— I’ve actually… I’ve actually been meaning to talk to you about that.”

“Do you want to do it earlier?” Your heart dropped to your stomach at the thought.

Kise’s head whipped towards you, nearly colliding with yours. “No!” He took a deep breath and more calmly, said, “No. Actually the opposite.”

“You want to break up later?”

To your surprise, Kise chuckled, “Wow, and people say I’m dense.”

“What do you mean?”

Kise tilted your chin up, making you meet that intense gold gaze. “I want to date you for real.”

⋆｡° midorima shintarou — frenemies to lovers

You wouldn’t say that you disliked Midorima but… you couldn’t say that you were good friends either. The two of you bickered in class a lot, constantly jockied for higher scores on tests, and gave smug looks at each other when the teacher praised the other.

However, while you and Midorima were, in essence, academic rivals, you were also united in the fact that you both were at the top of your classes. When a classmate would say something dumb, you’d both immediately share a side-eye together. You gravitated toward each other for group projects, avoiding people who wanted you to do all the work.

“You need to come to the game tonight,” Midorima announced to you as you two packed up after Japanese History.

You gave him a look, saying, “When have I ever shown interest in watching basketball?”

He pushed his glasses up and said, “Time to get interested.”

“Why, though?”

“Oh, just come,” Takao sighed. “None of us will ever hear the end of it if you don’t.”

“Fine,” you said, “if it means that much to you, Midorima.”

He just nodded tersely and began to turn away before hesitating. He pointed at your phone charm — a limited-edition charm from you favorite manga — and asked, “Can I take that?”

“What?” You glared at him. “Of course not!”

He huffed, ears turning pink and he pushed up his glasses defensively. “Just for tonight.”

“Why?”

“It’s my lucky item.”

You gave him a look but sighed, unfastening the charm from your phone and handing it to him. “I better get this back after your basketball game.”

He nodded again and pivoted sharply on his heel, walking away without another word, Takao hot on his heels.

On your train ride home, you looked up Oha Asa’s horoscopes out of curiosity, searching for Midorima’s. He was a Cancer, right?

Today is a fifty-fifty day for Cancers but you can change your luck for the better by inviting someone important to you to a meaningful event in your life. Your lucky item for the day is a borrowed phone chain!

⋆｡° murasakibara atsushi — stuck together

You absolutely could not believe the day you were having. As Yosen’s long-suffering manager, you supposed you should have been used to the antics of the players, but after a less-than-stellar performance on a pop quiz and spilling water on your uniform blazer, all you wanted was an uneventful practice and to go home and take a nap. But apparently, fate had other plans for you in the form of Murasakibara Atsushi.

“Y/n-chin,” he drawled, pulling on your shirt sleeve. “Do you have any snacks?”

You shook your head and asked, “Doesn’t Himuro usually have some for you?”

“Muro-chin’s coming late today.”

Ah, so that’s why the gym wasn’t swarming with girls at the moment. “Right,” you said with a sigh. You thought for a second before saying, “I think I remember Liu saying he stashed some snacks in the supply closet. Let’s go look there.”

The two of you made your way into the closet at the end of the gym and you unlocked the door. You switched on the light and rooted around shelves, pushing away cleaning supplies and spare equipment. “I swear Liu said he hid snacks in here.”

“Maybe you’re just too short to see,” Murasakibara said. Before you could tell him that he needed to keep the door open since it locked automatically from the outside, Murasakibara had already moved and the door swung shut behind him.

You cursed and grabbed the handle, twisting it and feeling the resistance of the lock. You groaned, resting your head on the door in despair. From behind you, Murasakibara announced that he found Liu’s stash of snacks. “Great,” you grumbled. “I’m so happy for you but we’re stuck in here until someone lets us out.”

Murasakibara glanced at you and came up beside you, trying the door handle himself with much more force than you ever could muster (you were pretty sure you heard the metal bend a little) but you still remained trapped. You shot a text to Coach Araki, informing her about your situation, to which she replied that you’d both have to wait until they found the spare key since Fukui had managed to misplace it a few weeks ago.

You rubbed your hands down your face and leaned your back against the door, watching as Murasakibara plopped down on the floor and stretched his legs out, munching on Liu’s chips. He took up most of the floor space of the closet, and you pressed yourself further against the door to avoid knocking into his feet.

As fifteen minutes passed, you shifted your weight from one foot to the other again, legs growing tired. Murasakibara cocked his head before he suggested, “Y/n-chin, do you want to sit?”

“I’m okay,” you mumbled but Murasakibara remained unconvinced apparently since he sat up a little straighter, set the empty chip bag aside, and leaned forward suddenly, pulling you down to sit in between his legs. Your cheeks burned as you practically crashed into his body.

“You can lean against me,” he said. Your face was on fire but honestly, you were too tired to argue with him, shifting to rest your back against his chest. He reclined on his hands and you felt his gaze burning into the back of your head.

It was about fifteen more minutes before the door opened, Himuro having found the key. Fukui, Okamura, and Liu also peeked their heads inside, Fukui and Himuro eyeing your positioning with smirks. “Looks like you two got comfy,” Fukui snickered. Okamura turned away, muttering something about how unfair life was, and Liu’s eyes zeroed in on the chip bag beside Murasakibara.

“Did thou eat my snacks?”

⋆｡° akashi seijuurou — forbidden relationship

If it was anybody but you, you would have rolled your eyes at just how cliche and utterly ridiculous this situation was. But it was you and your life and your relationship, and you would be lying if you said it didn’t completely crush you.

You and Akashi had grown up alongside one another but not necessarily in a good way. Your parents’ companies were each other’s main competitors, and while they had as polite a relationship as industry titan competitors could have, neither family wanted their heirs dating.

But at your and Akashi’s ages, it was hard to really forbid you two from seeing one another.

You sometimes couldn’t believe how many people rose to power who were insufferably boring. You stood beside your mother as she laughed and clinked champagne glasses with a group of suits, your face frozen in some disingenuous smile. Your eyes, meanwhile, scanned the large banquet hall, falling immediately on a figure with red hair and two-toned eyes. You felt your mouth curl into a real grin when you met his gaze and you winked at him, butterflies bursting in your stomach when he smiled back and shook his head fondly.

He had told you that his father arranged a date for him tonight, the heiress to one of their closest associate companies. You couldn’t say you weren’t a little jealous but you were completely confident in Akashi’s love for you; the two of you wouldn’t have carried on this long if either of you wasn’t completely enamored with the other.

“Excuse me,” you said at a lull in the conversation, “I’m going to get some air, I’m feeling lightheaded.”

“Of course, dear,” your mother said. “Be sure to be back for speeches, though. You know how your father gets.”

You nodded and slipped away to the venue’s gardens, lush and hued in autumnal colors. Your fingers brushed against the blooming wisteria as you made your way to the bridge over the garden’s pond, staring down at the moon’s reflection in the water.

A few minutes later, your reflection is joined on the bridge with Akashi’s, shoulders touching. You didn’t exchange any words for a while; you just rested your head on his shoulder and his head rested on yours.

“Where’d you leave your date?” you asked him.

He chuckled, “She’s in a conversation with my aunt about her collection of vintage Versace.”

You hummed, “That should keep her busy the whole night.”

Akashi finally faced you. “That’s the intention, beloved.” He pecked your forehead.

You gently poked his side and asked, “You call that a kiss?”

He gave you one of those looks, eyes glinting with the same promise of a challenge as they did when he played basketball. “Are you underestimating me?”

“Well, if the shoe fits…”

You laughed as he cupped your face and pressed his mouth against yours for a much, much different kind of kiss.

#knb x reader #kuroko no basuke x reader #kuroko's basketball x reader #generation of miracles x reader #gom x reader #kuroko tetsuya x reader #kagami taiga x reader #aomine daiki x reader #kise ryouta x reader #midorima shintarou x reader #murasakibara atsushi x reader #akashi seijuurou x reader #kuroko x reader #kagami x reader #aomine x reader #kise x reader #midorima x reader #murasakibara x reader #.𖥔 ݁ ˖ kaiijo writes

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