Tumgik
#cord has hits
mercurygray · 14 days
Text
The Unquiet Tide
I am happy to report that - after a little bit of work - most of my MOTA OC work is now up and available for your reading, commenting and subscribing pleasure on AO3.
Since Masters of the Air lends itself to a more episodic approach, each of these stories will take place as a series of short format pieces posted more or less in chronological order. Much of the work is being driven by prompts from readers like you! I will still be posting updates here on tumblr, but will probably be linking directly to the full text on AO3.
The three fics are collected in The Unquiet Tide, so if you're on AO3 and would like to subscribe to collection updates for easy notifications, you can now do that!
Pavilioned In The Fields - Cordelia Callaway (John Egan x OFC)
Cordelia Callaway knows planes - she grew up building them and watching them be flown, and there is no one better in the entire Army Air Forces for keeping a level head while one of them comes in for a landing in flames. If the only way she can contribute to the war is making sure all these man land safely, then there's no one else you'd want in your control tower, because she doesn't do things by halves, either. Unfortunately, that also means holding grudges - and if you're the 100th's executive officer, that means you might be in for a very, very long war.
Your Best Girl - Fred Torvaldsen (John Brady x OFC)
Someone said this war would come with donuts, and Freda Torvaldsen is here to make sure they’re right. As a somewhat new replacement for the Red Cross Clubmobile team at Thorpe Abbotts, Freda - or Fred, as she's usually called - is still learning everyone’s name (and everyone is still learning hers!) but she’s confident with time that she’ll fit right in - and a certain clarinet-playing captain is hoping she fits right in with him.
Seek To Hold The Wind - Marion Brennan (Neil Harding x OFC)
It is one thing for the Army Air Forces to send planes out, and quite another to bring them back home. Someone must be there at the end, to gather all the pieces up to make sure what has just happened makes sense. That's Marion Brennan's job, and she's damn good at it - a life spent in the Army will do that to a woman. She's also here to do it without distractions - though a certain former football coach and commanding officer is making that rather difficult.
40 notes · View notes
daaedoodles · 2 months
Text
disabled regina george is a concept
Tumblr media
161 notes · View notes
captain-noir · 1 year
Text
the real tragedy is the fact that lestat is, unfortunately, louis’ favourite person on earth. he literally fills the hole paul has left behind in more ways than one
8 notes · View notes
Text
Dreams will be like “90% of the time you won’t remember what happened, and if you do it will be shards and fragments. 9% of the time there will be something absolutely buckwild and fun to experience and then tell your friends about (especially since they often feature in it.) And then once in a blue moon it will give you some of the most standout character/plot ideas you have ever fucking had and you will Not know where the hell it came from or how your subconscious invented this.”
6 notes · View notes
leidensygdom · 3 months
Text
i love finding poetry in the mundane, and yesterday i stumbled upon something that just hits that spot
So, my partner has an old phone- It served them for many years now, but it has one issue: Charging it is hard. Their current charger is hanging on by a thread (literally), and can barely do its job. The phone and the charger came together: They've never used another charger for said phone.
Now, they've tried to replace the charging cord several times. But it doesn't matter how much they've searched what damned specific charger the phone uses, none of them work. They finally decided to bring it to a phone shop and ask what should they use.
The guy at the shop looked at the phone for a bit, and explained: "The port itself is broken. The charger you have works with this phone because they've mutually broken each other into the same shape, in a way that no other charger is shaped. The port itself has corroded in a way that only accepts the charger that shaped it like that in the first place."
And while this is of course a frustrating situation for my partner, I feel like there's a metaphor here. I could write a goddamn story about this. These two half-broken old things have been together for so long they've destroyed each other in a way that keeps them from working with anything else. They've hurt each other in a way that barely keeps them functioning together, and have been rendered useless with literally anything else.
This too is toxic yuri to me-
34K notes · View notes
icharchivist · 4 months
Text
cw: child abuse (psychological, grooming, ect)
also speaking of parental abuse there's also this text of how Millie wants to be Tyra's mother, but she doesn't want anything that makes Tyra unique.
She started loving Tyra the moment she saw her find some dinosaure when she was dying in the cold and starved after being separated from her parents, seeing that despite her situation, Tyra was so excited about finding a Tyranosaure she was forgetting how desperate her situation was and instead loved the dino right away.
Millie saw how excited Tyra was about it, and loved Tyra right away enough to decide to make her hers.
But Millie hates dinosaurs, she finds them disgusting, she uses them as tool and keeps insulting them, hates that Tyra sees them as her family.
she used the dinos as bait to get Tyra to pay attention to her, and she used a particularities of the dino to mind control Tyra
but even now as Tyra is being brainwashed, everytime she looks at the dinos, Millie just tells her "don't look at those disgusting things, just look at me, your momma"
and it's another level of control that rings way too true on parents who """"""love""""" their children, but not for who they are -- just for what it brings them.
yes Tyra is cute. But everything she likes, everything that makes her happy, is disgusting. So it needs to be removed from Tyra's life. Her love and her excitement has to carry over to Millie, not to the stuff she actually like.
it's something way too real and it's genuinely giving me the yikes it makes me unwell.
#ichablogging gbf#ichablogging tyraevent#sorry massive tmi in the tags#sorry it struck a cord bc it's something that's been on my mind for days with my own mom and i'm just. god.#my sis has a new boyfriend who happens to have 3 children - including two very cute twin girls who are adorable#i meet them for the holidays and we hit off right away. they're very cute and hyperactive and everything#and i kept encouraging them in that so they really imprinted on me hard that i legit couldn't get away from their cuddles aha#point is though that i was talking about it with my mom afterward#and she was all 'you know they remind me so much of you when you were a child. thats why i found it so shocking when you closed yourself in#and it hits me hard in the. who's. who's fault do you think it is.#because i saw how all of the adults around us were rolling their eyes at the girls#i saw how all of them were telling them to calm down or telling them straight up they were annoying and exhausting#i saw how when i tried to tell a cute story from my dad's home to the girls (about saving a hedgehog once)#my mom tried to derail the topic on how she's been done horribly dirty by my father -- directly to the girls#like. mom. they're 7. why the fuck are you cutting me when i tell them something they're interested about to tell them such a heavy thing.#and with xmas obligation and the fact i'm forced to be here but i'm mostly ignored most of the time and cut off#(s/o to the family member who said they didn't want to hear anything from me because i was 'neither interesting nor smart' a while ago)#also it reminds me of how my mom loves to brag about how passionate i am but always cut me off & belittle me bc she hates what i care about#it keeps reminding me of that. saying they love you but they don't care about anything about you. it's about what you bring them.#it hits fucking hard the timing is too tight i legit had a family thing yesterday which was the reason i could only read this event today#Granblue why would you do this to me
0 notes
Text
various updates and facts about my family
my mother huffed raid bug spray and ate wallpaper paste as a child. my grandfather believes my autistic sibling is an alien and is asking him to provide the winning lottery numbers. my sister tried to kill her boyfriend recently.
My dad is getting married to his seventh wife.
And my little brother (J) is smelting pawn shop jewelry in efforts to make silver bullets to load in .22 casings
My grandfather swears he was abducted by aliens and they modified his cum.
In 2009, he attempted to trade firearms for an alleged crystal skull which he believed contained the blueprints to rebuild Atlantis.
In 2012, my family created a convey of six cars all loaded with guns, ammo, canned food, etc. in order to prepare for the apocalypse. In December of 2012, my grandfather led us to where he believed our family would hold off the forces of evil, a last bastion for our bloodline- A fucking Super8 motel in Forsyth GA.
My mother used to drink blood in the 90s and beat the shit out of football players as a hobby, so she could beef up for roller derby. She raises baby animals, and has more than once attempted to kill a man during intimacy.
All if my dad's ex wives have tried to kill him. He's had attack dogs sicced on him, beaten with a crowbar, chased with a hammer, run over with his own car, and pushed out a vehicle. His new wife was a pen pal he met when she was in jail.
My aunt believes she convenes with the angels when she's hopped up on ambien and percocet, so she's like the goth version of Mama Murphy from Fallout 4.
I was conceived in a crack den in North Carolina. My mother's organs don't like having kids, so much so that both me and my sibling (J) were born dead and had to be resuscitated. In both cases it was due to the umbilical cord playing a game of Hangman.
My little brother (J) taught Igor, our Vulture, to vomit on command. Nobody knows how.
He has been using the infestation of rats at my family's cabin to do... something. He's been running a rat cannibalism fight club, in an attempt to fish out a Super Rat which he plans to do... Something with?
My little brother (M) spends his spare time firing at passing cars. We have managed to make sure he's using BB guns, is the compromise. (J) went through a similar phase when he was an early teen, and would shoot a bow and arrow at the neighbor's house. I did the same with a potato cannon in my youth. It's a tradition.
My dad is missing his appendix. He has no idea where it went and has no record of it ever being removed.
My grandmother reluctantly admitted to having an affair with a ghost in her 40s.
My brother (M) used to love botany. By the age of 6 he could tell you anything you wanted to know about the flora of southeast GA. He had a garden. And he also grew weed for my step-dad until my mom found out. After that he was banned from gardening and picked up junior robotics as a hobby after i gave him K'nex and some Lego Mindstorms stuff years ago. He took apart an air conditioner in a motel once. To this day we don't know what he did with the screws. He builds airsoft guns from scrap and is a mechanical prodigy. He is almost illiterate.
My brother (A) disturbs me. He was raised by the internet and YouTube. He is whatever this new generation is personified. He's frighteningly... Normal.
I am waiting for the shoe to drop and for him to reveal some darkness to him never before seen in my family.
He's just. A normal kid. A little zoomer that watches Mr. Beast and YouTube long plays. He's also the straight man to most of all my family's bullshit. He's dangerously genre savvy. He also has a weird interest in law???
My sister (H) is your average country girl. She's attempted to kill more than one of her boyfriends (will clarify that they were abusive), has totaled three cars and always walks away from these nightmarish accidents unscathed. She was found on the side of the road last year hitting her vape and flagging down a car, while her own was stuck five feet above a ditch in a tree.
She has a job and plans to go to New York to "see what them city twinks got goin' on"
My other little sister (C) is the only other queer member of my sibling roster. She's a lesbian, and enjoys shooting things. Sometimes living things. She, like (A), is dangerously genre savvy and doesn't play into my family's religious fanaticism. She wants to be a firefighter because she is also a pyromaniac and wants an excuse to see "big things burn".
A bit more about (J)- He claims to speak to the dead, and has used this to become my grandfather's right hand man, and the beneficiary of his estate. He is an autodidact, self taught with blacksmithing and metalworking. He dresses well, and also has a hidden laboratory in my grandfather's shed where he has taken a fixation in herbal tinctures and remedies. He knows they're bullshit. But my family buys his potions, and he uses the money to buy pawn shop jewelry and scrap metal to build stuff. He believes firmly in werewolves, and is convinced Furries are a psyop to prepare the general public for their emergence in society. Which is why he's making silver bullets.
I wish to stipulate that not a single word of this is a joke. This is on god, IRL bullshit I have to contend with.
I should probably update this to remove real names what the fuck
2K notes · View notes
msgexymunson · 6 days
Text
The Ink Shop Part 2
Description: After your encounter with Eddie, things are beginning to get a bit more complicated; especially when you ask him for another little favour. But, will Eddie go for it? 
Warnings: NSFW, minors DNI this ain't for you, angst, tiny bit of fluff, smut, fem oral receiving, male masturbation.
A/N: OK when I said this will be in 3 parts I lied, it's totally going to be at least 4, maybe 5! Thank you for the love you've shown the first part, it's incredible! You're superstars. 
❤️ If you like it please comment and reblog, it really makes my day!❤️
7k words 
Masterlist Part 1
For some reason, the shop seems more welcoming today than ever. It might be the fact that the sun is shining, it might be the radio seemingly playing all your favourite songs, or it might be last night. Either way, you feel loose and free, laughing at jokes, smiling at everyone, and genuinely just happier. 
Eddie saunters in thirty minutes late and you barely notice, apart from flashing him a bashful smile. 
“Well hello there sweetheart, you seem chipper today.”
You roll your eyes at the obvious insinuation, but your smile is warm. “I had a good night's sleep, that's all.” 
“Bet you did,” he grins, “you look real pretty.” 
Looking down, you consider your outfit; you'd decided enough of the corporate clothes, this is a tattoo shop after all. So, you'd paired a roll neck sweater with a short jean skirt and sneakers. A more relaxed outfit to go with a more relaxed attitude. Before you can say anything in reply he strolls over to his station. 
Right, so a few jabs, but he's being nonchalant. So put it out of your mind.
The morning moves quickly, a messy blur of clients and phone calls. After a fast lunch, the shop finally calms down a little. When you're focusing on sorting the mess of the heavy bookings tome in front of you, Eddie approaches, mischief glinting in his eyes. 
“I see London, I see France…” 
You follow his bowed head and cross your legs in sheer embarrassment, realising a sliver of your panties must be on display. 
“Eddie!” 
He simply laughs, throwing his head back far enough that your gaze drifts to his Adam's apple. 
“Sorry, I couldn't resist, I'm a big fan of this skirt,” he says, drinking you in with his eyes, “anyway I wanted to ask-” 
His sentence is stopped however by the loud ringing of the old corded phone. You and Eddie share a look, yours begging and his smug. Before you can grab it, he picks up the phone, putting on a ridiculous British accent. 
“Good Afternoon, London Underground Airways, this is your captain speaking- Oh shit Mac- Yeah she's- I know I'm not supposed to answer- Sorry I- Fine, here.” He brandishes the phone at you. 
“Hello? Oh, of course I'll let them know- I understand- It'd be my pleasure- see you soon.” replacing the receiver, you make a note on the pad at your side. 
“What'd he say?” Eddie asks, hovering over you. 
Not giving him the satisfaction of a look, you continue to make your note, however perfunctory it may be. “Mac's going to be a little late, he told me to tell his next client.” 
“He said my name, I heard it. What'd he say?” 
Placing your pen down with a loud click, you turn to him. 
You tell him as you smile smugly. “He told me to hit you for answering the phone.”
If anything, his grin grows broader. “Oh? Go on then princess, I'd hate for you to break the rules.” He turns his face, no doubt expecting a cuff to the back of the head.
Spinning on your stool, you slap him right across the cheek; not with all your strength, but certainly hard enough to remember. Eddie's face is a picture of shock, pink handprint already flushing his cheek. 
But that just makes his smile wider. 
“Harder.” He asks, eyes flashing arousal at you. 
“Eddie!” you shout, pushing him away, but his laugh echoes through the shop. Before he has a chance to continue, a burly biker type walks right in the door. 
“Good afternoon, can I help you?” 
“Yeah, It's Jimmy, I'm here for Mac?” 
“He's running a little late, but he'll be with you as soon as possible. Can I get you a coffee or something while you wait?” 
You can't help but hear a huff from Eddie, but before you can question it he's drawing in his book, entirely oblivious to the outside world. 
At the end of the day, you're tired, but still in fairly high spirits. It's the first time you've seen everyone in the shop at once. There's an edge to the air though, as if an expectation hangs over everyone. 
So… bar?” Mac asks in a defeated tone, although he's smiling. Everyone reacts; Eddie woops, pumping his fist, even the usually reserved Miranda is clapping quietly. You smile and nod, finally understanding what the atmosphere was about. 
As you all enter the dimly lit bar, chatting and laughing, you hear a low huff. 
“What did I do to deserve this?” John is standing behind the bar. An imposing figure, his arms crossed and face surly, but there's a kindness in his eyes. Mac leans straight over and hands him a card.  
“Easy John, I got this,” he chuckles. The card is accepted gratefully, the gruff demeanour lessening with the promise of payment. 
You accept a bottle of beer and slide into a nearby booth, the rest of the group filtering in. Mac walks over, eyes the space next to you, then grabs a stool to sit at the head of the table. It throws you for a minute; surely he knows he can sit there? Before you can tell him so, Eddie waltzes across the room with a tray of tequila shots and all the fixings with a cheeky look in his eyes. He slides right in next to you, tray and all, and places it on the table with exaggerated care. 
“Ladies, gentlemen.” He says, gesturing to the tiny glasses like an old timey butler. There's a succession of groans from the party, but despite this they all grab a shot. All except you. 
“I don't think I-” you begin, but he's waving a hand in the air. 
“Come on, you drink. It's a shot. Never had tequila before?” 
Fixing him with a sharp look, your cheeks begin to redden of their own accord. Eddie smirks and tosses his head back, hiding his eyes with one hand. 
“Shit princess, what did you do at college?” 
“Study.” You say primly, but take a glass tentatively and place it in front of you. 
“Right, so for the new guys…“ Eddie smiles right at you and licks his hand between his thumb and pointer finger. That hint of silver mesmerises you, the ball of his tongue piercing catching the light. It's almost sensual the way he does it, your eyes automatically following the movement of his tongue. “salt right here…” he sprinkles some on the spot he moistened, “then, lick, shoot, suck.” 
In a few fluid movements he licks the salt from his hand, downs the shot, and sticks a wedge of lime in his mouth. As your brain finally engages after that display, the little show that shouldn't have heated your insides up, you follow along, and take your shot with everyone else. It's easier than you would have thought, the lime easing the burn somewhat. 
Eddie squeezes your thigh under the table and whispers low enough for you to hear. 
“Good girl.” 
Shooting daggers with a simple look, he just smirks, leaving his hand on your bare leg as if challenging you. Dimly, you hear the echoes of a conversation in front of you; it's Julio, arguing about good tequila not needing salt and lime, but you're lost in the deep pools of Eddie's chocolate eyes.
For a moment, your body flashes red hot and you regret your choice of the high necked sweater. Tearing your eyes away you look at something, anything, but Eddie. 
The conversation drifts between all manner of subjects and you start to relax, the beer and tequila swimming in your belly loosening your tongue. It's nice, having a chance to chat and giggle with your coworkers in a setting not interrupted by the constant buzzing of tattoo machines. 
Julio and Chloe end up in a full scale argument about the karaoke machine in the corner. Before you're subjected to the horror of having to sing in public, you get up to grab another beer. Perching on a stool by the bar with your purse in hand, you're waiting patiently to be served. 
Eddie strolls over. You see him in your periphery; that confident walk as if he owns the very ground he walks on. Casually he hops up on the stool next to you, making no effort to hide the way he undresses you with his eyes. 
“Quit staring Eddie,” you say testily as you knock the bar with your bank card. 
“Now I can't look at you?” He asks with an amused grin. 
“I said quit staring, not quit looking,” you huff out. 
“What's the difference?” He asks, shrugging his shoulders and scrunching his nose at you.
You groan, turning on your stool to face him. “You are impossible,” 
He sticks his long tongue out childishly, flashing his piercing at you. 
Thankfully, John's voice cuts through the squabble. “What can I get you?”
“May I have a beer, please?” 
“You certainly may.” John cocks his thumb in your direction, addressing Eddie, “I like this one, she's polite. Don't scare her off.” 
Eddie dramatically holds his chest. “You wound me, sir!” 
Two beers are placed on the bar and John waves your card away. “Don't worry about it, Mac's treating you guys tonight.” 
As you swig your beer, you contemplate for a moment, trying to work out something.
“You're staring, sweetheart.” Eddie grins, as he gulps his drink. 
“I wasn't staring, I was thinking! I know that's a foreign concept to you.” It's catty, you know that, but he just seems to bring it out in you. No one else has annoyed you so much in your life just by… being. 
“That was rude. I thought we were playing nice?” he pouts playfully. 
“Sorry. I- Can I ask you something?” 
“Sure, shoot.” 
Turning to him, you speak what's on your mind. “Why do people get their tongues pierced? No one really sees it. I get like, nose and eyebrow piercings and stuff, but the tongue one I don't understand.” 
Eddie's grin is wide as he bites his bottom lip and stares at you. Well, you couldn't call it a grin. It's a flash of teeth, almost wolfish in its delivery. 
“Oh princess, you are too cute.” 
Staring at him with your brow furrowed, you try to work out what he means, but the longer you take, the more amused he looks. 
“What? What is it?” 
Sighing, he leans closer, the scent of aftershave, cigarettes and man clouding around you. “It's got a purpose, sweetheart.” 
“What, like, kissing?” 
Shaking his head, he looks you up and down. “Kinda. Kissing somewhere… specific.” 
Realisation breaks across your face, followed by a fierce blush that you can feel to the roots of your hair. Laughing, Eddie pulls away a little and takes a mouthful of beer. 
Voice an airy whisper, you lean over to him as you speak. “And girls like that?” 
His laugh is so loud it reverberates around the bar. 
“Yeah, a lot, in my experience.” 
“Oh.”
Well, the thought is there now, and you're pretty sure it won't ever go away, not without some sort of mind bleach. Eddie's head between your legs, his long tongue exploring your sex. The image is burned into the back of your brain, playing on a loop.
“You're looking a little hot there,” he says, as if he can read your thoughts. It's fair to say it wouldn't take a psychic to know what's rattling around your head right now. 
“I'm fine, this sweater is too warm,” you shake out, pressing your thighs together. 
“Liar.” 
Mouth opening and closing like a fish, you finally snap it shut with a crunch. Curiosity is eating away at you, and it's too easy to say what's on your mind after a couple of drinks. 
“Eddie, could you… tell me, what- what it's like?” 
He chuckles lightly and scoots closer to you. “you know I can't, I've not exactly had the pleasure.” 
“I know that, I mean…” 
For a second he just gapes at you. 
“Wait, princess, are you asking me to tell you or… show you?” 
Flustered, you turn away a little. “Sorry that's- that's too much isn't it. It's just you… did such a good job with the, you know, the other thing, I was just curious.” 
Eddie bites his lip, puffing out a little breath. “You know, flattery works with me. I did a good job, huh?” 
“Well, yeah. I can imagine you'd be really good at… that too. I could, owe you a favour?” It's bold, especially from you, but the way he's looking at you, the slight flush to his cheeks, you'd put money on him agreeing. 
Eddie stares at you incredulously. “Wait, you're saying you want me to stick my tongue in the holiest of holes and then you owe me a favour?” 
“Yeah? Like a little… arrangement.” 
He rubs his face with his hand, his voice muffled as he speaks. “I'd feel like I was taking advantage of you.” 
That confuses you for a moment. Surely you were the one who asked him? Hesitantly you reach out and touch soft fingertips to the back of his hand. 
“Please?” 
“Fuck.” He looks around, and turns to you, gazing into your eyes for a moment. 
“Fine. Right now.” 
“Oh I didn't-” 
“Listen, before I change my mind. Meet me out back. I'll tell the guys you're not feeling well and I'm taking you home.” 
Wordlessly, you grab your purse and head to the back door, heart hammering in your ears. It's a little dank out here, with the sound of a dripping pipe and moss covering the cement. Eddie comes out a moment later looking more serious than you've ever seen him. 
“You sure about this?” He asks, searching your eyes. 
‘Yeah, but…” you look around the small yard, gesturing vaguely. 
“Oh. Oh! You thought- oh Christ no, not here. I'm not a complete asshole. Come with me.”
Letting out a relieved breath, you follow him. He walks over to a gate in the fence and opens it, which leads down a narrow alleyway, a little shortcut between yards. That eventually opens up to another road with a couple of apartment blocks. The one he moves towards looks mostly clean, if a bit lifeless, with a creepy looking van parked out the front.
“This way sweetheart,” he says, leading you through the courtyard and to the stairs. 
For a second you stop in sheer surprise. 
“Wait, you live this close and you still manage to be late for work?” 
He chuckles, looking at you over his shoulder. “I have a condition, you know. Chronic tardiness; I'm afraid there's no cure.” 
You bat him on the arm playfully and he grasps your wrist, stopping on the stairs briefly, giving you a look that is wickedness personified. 
“If you're gonna hit me, do it properly.” 
“Eddie!” 
He laughs loud and grabs your hand, holding it in his until he reaches his door. That alone is enough to shut you up. It's warm and rough, and the feeling of his skin on yours, no matter how tiny, sends bolts of sensation through you. 
“Right, here is my castle,” he says as he opens the door and lets you inside. 
Chaos. That's the first word that crosses your mind. It doesn't look dirty, there's just things everywhere. A bookshelf stuffed with books and weird little trinkets placed any which way dominates one wall, and another on the other side with a huge music collection. There's a poky little kitchen with a couple of pots still in the sink, and a big couch with mismatched cushions takes up the remaining space. A tower of board games is precariously leaning next to it, and on the wall over the TV is an honest to goodness sword.
“It's nice,” you say as you walk in, as if you're not mentally organising it in your head. 
“You hate it.” He scoffs, pulling his boots off and dumping them by the door. 
“No, no, it's very… you.” 
“I stand by my previous statement.” He grins at you, clearly indicating he wasn't being entirely serious. 
“This is the bedroom.” He walks over and nudges the door open with his foot. Surprisingly, apart from an open clothes rail, an overflowing laundry hamper, and an enormous bed, there's not much in it. The wallpaper is a pretty purple colour, and looks oddly familiar. 
“Eddie isn't that the same wallpaper-” 
“-As the shop? Yeah. Mac let me have the leftovers. I was broke and this room was fucking pink.” 
You snort out a laugh; the thought of Eddie with a pretty pink bedroom was rather unbelievable.
“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. I can live with purple.” He roots around and grabs a pair of sweats. “Make yourself comfortable, I'm gonna change real quick.” 
Then he walks out into another doorway, you assume the bathroom. The urge to snoop is real, but you resist. It looks like he spends less time here anyway. 
The question is, how comfortable are you supposed to make yourself? Nerves start settling in, the thought of what you've asked him to do is finally sinking its way into your mind and down your jangling spine. What if he doesn't like the underwear you're wearing? God, you've been at work all day, what if you smell bad? Or taste bad? What if- 
“You can sit down, princess.” 
Eddie saunters back in, shirtless, a pair of grey sweatpants hanging so low on his hips you see his cut groin. A little squeak hiccups out of your throat at the sight. You stay standing, ready to make your excuses and leave, but the signal hasn't reached your legs just yet. 
“What's wrong?” his eyes are brimming with concern as he steps toward you. 
“No I- I was- maybe this-” 
“Hey, look at me,” he says, grabbing both of your hands. You stare up at him, his face gentle. 
“Whatever you're worried about, I'm sure it's nothing.” 
“But i haven't showered-” 
“When did you last?” 
“Well… this morning.” 
“You're fine. Trust me.” 
He backs you up onto the bed, your knees folding as you flop down. The air around you feels full, humid with anticipation. He's so close, your bodies almost pressed together. 
“I wanna kiss you.” He says softly, stroking a lock of your hair out of your face. Heart leaping into your throat, you try to suppress the urge to lean forward. The last thing you need is to fall for this man. Chloe's words echo in your head; he's not boyfriend material.
He'll break your heart. 
“That's not part of our deal, Eddie.” 
A frown flickers across his face. It's just for a second, a flash of vulnerability, before his usual cocky smile returns. 
“That's not where I wanna kiss you.” He winks and tugs at your top, “can I take this off?” 
Nodding wordlessly, you help him and wriggle it up and over your head. 
“God damn.” Eddie props up on an elbow, running a finger between your breasts, before following the edge of your black cotton bra. 
He looks up at your face, grinning wide, and points at your neck; little purple marks adorn it. “That why you wore that sweater today?” 
Flushing crimson, you run fingers across your neck. 
“Yeah, you marked me Eddie. Not exactly discreet.” 
He chuckles, stroking the side of your neck. “Sorry sweetheart, I won't do it again. Well, not anywhere that anyone can see.” 
Heat floods your stomach, the stark realisation that you want him to mark you clings to your insides. If he notices your reaction he doesn't say, instead he leans toward you pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek. 
“You're really pretty. I don't know if I said that before.” 
Awash with a new heat in your cheeks, you smile bashfully. “Thanks, I don't get told that very much.” 
Staring at you, he shakes his head.
“You should. You should be told every fucking day.” 
You open your mouth, but before you can reply he kisses your jaw, running his tongue down your neck, before he presses his mouth to the top of your breast, sucking roughly. A gasp flies out, and your hand makes a decision entirely on its own to grab his hair. 
It seems it was the right thing to do, judging by the deep groan that comes from him. It seems to spur him on, and he yanks the cup of your bra down, taking your nipple into his mouth. His tongue teases it, rubbing his piercing over the pebbled nub.
“Oh Holy fuck!” Back arching with the foreign sensation, you revel in it, wriggling underneath him. He smirks against your skin, and takes your nipple between his teeth. Moaning loudly, you pull his hair. 
“Fuck, sweetheart,” He looks up at you, pupils blown to black, “can’t hold back if you do that.” 
It's not a dare, but it tastes like one, and before you can think you're tugging at it again. Eddie's eyes roll back, and a hard look crosses underneath his eyes. 
His actions turn a little feral, pulling you up so he can unhook your bra, practically ripping it off you before his mouth is all over your chest, firm fingers digging into the flesh of your hip. 
“Fuck, Eddie” you stutter it out, voice laced with need. 
“Yeah?” He whispers out breathlessly between urgent kisses, making his way down your stomach. Suddenly he takes the flesh of your hip in his mouth and bites down little before sucking a bruise as you writhe under him. 
He reaches your skirt, hooking fingers into the waistband as he looks up at you, his tone urgent. “Can I?” 
As you nod frantically, he reacts immediately, yanking it down along with your underwear. 
“Fuck, look at you.” 
The urge to close your legs is real, embarrassed at the way he's ogling you right between your thighs. They quiver with tension, but Eddie forces them open with his large palms. 
“Don't hide from me. You still want this?” 
You nod, and his head snaps up to look at you. His voice is hard, swirling around your insides with an intensity you're not used to from him. 
“Say it. You need to say it.” 
‘Yes, please Eddie.” 
That satisfies him. He leans forward, breath ghosting over your clit. You're waiting for his mouth, his tongue, but that's not what happens. He inhales you, nose so close it's almost touching your sex. 
“Jesus Christ, you smell so fucking good.” 
“Eddie!” you cry it out, cringing at his words as you bury your face in your hands. 
“Relax princess, it's a compliment.” 
Before you can retort that it's not a compliment, it's weird, and he's a freak for saying it, it no longer matters. He's licking a fat stripe up the length of your pussy, long tongue pushing against you hard in an animal-like gesture. 
The noise that expels from your chest is inhuman, a choked, guttural breath that belongs in a cave somewhere, not a bedroom. 
He doesn't relent, his mouth exploring every inch of you with a ferality that has you tingling all the way to your toes. His fierce movements, accentuated by the bump of his piercing, have you nearly leaving the mattress. You're not sure if you're trying to get more, or move away. Not that it matters. His hands are holding you so firmly that all you can do is wriggle helplessly like a fish on a line. 
Fingers trace the outside of your entrance before they slide in, beckoning your release. Whimpering, you grasp the bedsheets in a need to keep contact with something real. 
“Talk to me,” he says between mind numbing messy kisses to your clit, “good, yeah?” 
“Eddie, f-fuck, its incredible, please, oh God, k-keep going!” 
You can practically feel the smirk on his face as he dives back in, suckling at your clit with an unmatched fervour, his tongue piercing flicking expertly as he does so. Suddenly, you're not creeping toward your release, you're being hurtled toward it, thrown into the depths of absolute pleasure. 
Hands finding their way into Eddie's hair again, you hold on tight, buckling up for the ride. It's almost violent the way he pulls your climax from you, and you scream loudly, almost folding in half before you fall back onto the bed. 
Eddie sits up, hands placed on your thighs, as he grins proudly, face shining with your slick. 
“You OK princess?” 
OK doesn't seem to cover it. You're panting wildly, each breath shallow and ragged, brain melted into soup. 
“Think you can go again?” 
That gets your attention. You sit up, gaping at him. “Again?” 
Chuckling, he runs a finger up your slit and circles your clit in a teasing manner. The slight touch has your thighs trembling. 
“I think you've got at least one more in you.” 
Without a further word he presses his tongue against you. On instinct you grip his hair once more, bucking your hips up. 
“Fuck, that's it sweetheart, ride my face.” 
This time he slips his tongue inside as his nose nudges at your clit, the thick muscle curling and writhing. Holding on tight, your hips know what to do, your body reacting and rolling to meet him. 
You're yanking his hair hard as you grind against his face, pulling deep grunts and moans from him which vibrate inside of you. It feels primal, sheer need clouding your mind, a fog that rolls into every limb and leaves no part untouched. 
“Eddie, fuck!” You moan loudly as your walls clench around his tongue, another climax bubbling its way to the surface. He doubles down with his efforts almost as if he needs this as much as you do. 
With one final thrust of his tongue you whine out your orgasm, back finally touching the bed once more. There are no thoughts, only your heavy breath and beating heart keeping you in the moment. 
After a few seconds that seem to stretch on for a year, he hovers over your face. He's wiped off your release, but nothing could wipe that smug grin. 
“So? Good?” 
It's not like he doesn't know. You pat blindly at his arm, words stuck in a puddle on your tongue. In an unexpected tender gesture, he swipes his thumb over your chin, his gaze pensive. You stare back, fingers reaching out to gently touch his cheek. 
“Are you going to kiss me?” You whisper, the words pooling from you unbidden. 
For a split second you think he's going to lean in and close the gap, but he flashes his teeth at you and flicks the tip of your nose. 
“That's not part of the deal.” 
Disappointment leaks into your stomach. Which is entirely unfair. He's using your words after all. Fighting the feeling, you force a smile. 
“I think I'll need a wheelchair to get home.” You chuckle, indicating to your still twitching legs. 
“Stay here. I'll take the couch.” 
“Oh, no, Eddie, I couldn't kick you out of your own bed thats-” 
“Hey, it's fine, honestly. I wouldn't offer if I didn't mean it.” He shrugs and rolls off the bed and onto his feet in one quick movement like a cat. “Here. If you want something to sleep in.” He hands you a faded t-shirt. Hesitating for a moment, your hand hovers over it, but he stuffs it into your grip. 
“Honestly, it's fine. I can drop you home before work so you can get changed and stuff. No big deal.” 
“What about your chronic tardiness?” You joke, smiling softly at him. 
“You're here, I'm sure you'll whip me into shape.” 
“You'd probably like that,” you tease. 
“More than you know.” He winks again, and walks to the doorway. “Night, princess.” 
“Night Eddie.” 
When he's gone you shrug the shirt on. It's clean, but there's an undercurrent of pure Eddie still there that's more comforting than you'll care to admit. Then, you lay there, staring at the ceiling. 
Well. You certainly weren't expecting to end up in Eddie's room, in his bed, but here you are. You're not sure what this all means just yet and processing it is just hurting your brain. A part of you is saying that you should get out now whilst you can. Another, louder part is telling you this is where you should be. The only problem: is this message coming from your heart, or much lower down? 
Chloe drifts into your mind whilst you lay there. Did they hook up in this bed? Are you in the same place she was? And how did that end? Clearly it was on good terms, considering how friendly they are, but how many girls have been where you are right now? A few? A dozen? A hundred?
After a while your thoughts just start to ache, leaving a migraine behind your eyes. Shifting on the bed, you try to get comfortable, but it's no use. You wonder if Eddie is still awake. After all, he's the only one that can answer your questions. 
Sitting up a little, you listen intently for any signs of life from the next room, but no matter how hard you strain your ears, you can't hear anything. 
As you quietly get up and creep to the door, you press your ear to it. Maybe that was a word you heard, a loud breath, or the signs of an overactive imagination. Turning the doorknob like a safecracker, you inch the door open ever so slightly to peek beyond. 
There he is, laying on the couch, eyes tight shut and face contorted in concentration. Odd. You slowly guide the door open a little more and your eyes nearly bug out of your head. 
Eddie's laying there, hand down his sweats, tugging at himself like there's no tomorrow.
You almost cry out in shock but manage to swallow the noise just in time. For what feels like a full minute you stand and stare, mouth gaping open. It's like you're hypnotised, unable to tear away from his urgent movements. 
A particularly good stroke has him bucking into his hand, and he lets out this strained whimper that shoots directly between your legs. 
Right, stop. This is wrong. How would you feel if he caught you? …OK, bad example. 
Reluctantly, you close the door again as quietly as you can before climbing back into his bed to stare at the ceiling once more. 
It looks like it's going to be a long night. 
********************
“You look really great,” Chloe says as she strolls into the shop, handing you a coffee, “like, happier, more relaxed.” 
It's a few days after your impromptu sleepover at Eddie's place, and she's absolutely right. You do look more relaxed, even you've noticed the change. There's more confidence in you, and a smile that was once a little forced is warm and genuine. 
“Thanks, I think I'm getting more comfortable here.” It's not a lie, exactly, but it's certainly not the whole truth. 
“Good, glad to hear it!” She beams at you and heads to her table. 
The bell over the door chimes once again startling you. Miranda and Mac are already here and it couldn't possibly be Eddie this early. 
“Um… Hi.” A gangly youth walks in, all arms and legs and bright blonde hair. He shuffles over to the counter awkwardly. 
“Morning, can I help you?” 
“Y-yeah, you do walk-ins today, right?” He asks, brandishing a crumpled flyer at you. 
Face lighting up, you fix your best smile. 
“Why yes we do, it's walk-in Wednesday. It's a little early though. Can I see some ID? 
He hands it over. The guy's freshly 21 and knows it, puffing out his little pigeon chest with pride. 
“Excellent. It's about 10 minutes until we open, but Miranda will be with you. Miranda, you got a book for this guy?” 
Confusion paints Mirandas's face, but then she smiles. 
“A walk in? Wow.” She strolls over and hands him her portfolio of designs, introducing herself. 
When Eddie finally turns up, there's another guy waiting. 
“You're not my 10:30.” 
The poor boy looks at him nervously like he did something wrong. 
“Eddie, he's a walk-in.” Mac says, calling over his shoulder. 
Eddie smirks at you and leans over the counter. 
“Well well, bet you're happy. Atta girl.” 
Blushing profusely, you move to tap him on the arm in warning, but he grabs your hand and kisses it. Heat flies straight to your belly at the gesture.
“Let me know when my 10:30 is here, alright sweetheart?” 
He's still holding your hand, brushing his fingers over your knuckles. Weakly you nod, gazing at him as your toes curl in your shoes. 
Shooting you a wink, he ambles over to his station as you watch him, eyes drawn to the way he moves. 
There's three more clients asking about Wednesdays; granted, one didn't have an ID, but the other two were seen and inked, and one even booked a follow up with Miranda. 
Buzzing with job satisfaction, you're grinning when you nip to the restroom, walking through the narrow corridor. As you exit, you're immediately accosted by Eddie. He stands close, a hand loosely holding your wrist to keep you there as he bends to whisper in your ear. 
“Now, you're not supposed to touch fine art, but someone's gotta pin you against the wall and nail you right.” 
“Eddie!” You whisper shout at him, only serving to make him chuckle low in his throat. 
“Sorry, couldn't resist. I have an idea, for that favour you owe me?” 
Body tensing of its own accord, you look up at him, your cheeks flushed and mouth slightly parted. Before you can ask what it is, a voice cuts through the tension. 
“Hey, keep it at home guys.” 
Mac's standing at the other end of the corridor with his arms crossed, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Pursing your lips, you wriggle from Eddie's grip. 
“It's not what it looks like Mac, I promise.” You say, shouldering past Eddie. 
“Come on sweetheart, don't get all shy on me now!” He shouts, walking after you.
You ignore him, giving Mac an apologetic look, and sit back down at the counter. God, that was embarrassing. Seems like professional and discreet are out the window. 
“So, as I was saying-” 
“Eddie, stop, not now.” you say, cheeks bright red. 
“I was only-” 
“Eddie please! I don't want to get into trouble!” 
Eddie scoffs and rolls his eyes, but backs off finally. 
You make a very clear point of being busy until the rest of the day, completing any ad hoc tasks you can think of. Tidying the stock cupboards, refreshing the consent sheets, and even organising the sparse counter. Anything to avoid further comment from Mac. 
When six rolls around you turn to talk to Eddie, but he's already leaving without a glance at you. 
Sighing, you make your way outside and home, trying to ignore the little sting in your chest. 
********************
It's Saturday before you see him again. Your day off was mostly spent worrying about how you upset him and thinking about everything you could have done differently. 
By the morning you're an emotional wreck, anxiety having done her job and left you a bubbling mass of maybes. When Eddie storms in the shop with a proverbial rain cloud over his head your heart pangs in your chest. 
He's such a big character, and you didn't realise until now the influence this has on this place. Usually he's energetic and upbeat; however, with this melancholy energy coming from him, everyone seems to stoop a little more, eyes a touch downcast, movements more shuffled and broken. It's like a black hole has descended on the shop, pulling joy from your soul and sucking everything into its gravity.
The tattoo shop is quiet for a Saturday. Not from lack of customers; it's just a more hushed and sullen atmosphere. By the afternoon you decide enough is enough and you grab Eddie's arm between clients.
“Eddie, can I talk to you?” 
He gets up, stretching his back in a feline movement, and walks with you slowly to the stockroom. 
“Listen, I'm really sorry about what happened on Wednesday, I didn't want to upset you and I can't stand seeing you like this and-” 
“Woah, sweetheart, slow down. You been worrying? About me?” He tilts his head, giving you a small lopsided smile. 
“Yeah? I thought you were mad at me.” You mumble out. 
“Oh, princess, come here.” He wraps you in his arms, holding your head close to his chest. A relieved breath puffs from your chest as you melt into the hug. 
“That's not what I'm upset about, I promise.” 
You pull from the embrace to look at him, a hopeful smile tugging at your lips. 
“Really?” 
Stroking your cheek softly, he presses his lips together. “You're adorable,” he moves his hand away and starts waving his arm about as he tells you what's wrong. 
“You know I'm in a band? Well we've got this regular gig at Hatters, which is great and all, but I found out they're looking for more bands at The Pit. That big rock club on Main? I've been trying to get hold of the damn owner but he's ignoring all my calls and I'm pissed off.” 
Grinning, you grab his arm. “Eddie, I can totally help you with that.” 
His gaze is soft and warm as he asks “Really? You'd do that for me?” 
“Of course I would. You got their number?” 
He digs around in his pocket and passes you a wedge of shiny paper. Unfolding it, you look at the details, smiling even wider when you see they're attempting a ladies night. There's a telephone number at the bottom, the contact listed as William. 
“I gotta idea. Just roll with it, OK?” 
He looks confused but nods at you. Skipping to the counter, you pick up the phone and dial the number. When it's answered by a young woman, you speak with a nasal voice, sounding almost bored. 
“Is Bill there?- Tell him it's Barb- oh trust me he's gonna wanna take this call honey.” 
Eddie's staring at you with an amused expression; you look back at him, flashing a smile while you wait. 
“Bill! How long has it been! Oh, don't say you don't remember me… oh, you do!- I'm good, I'm good- I'm managing this band, yeah, you've gotta book them- Corroded Coffin- yeah, yeah- They are hot right now, selling out their shows- look I know you're struggling getting the ladies in, but that's about to change. Their lead singer is-  well lemme tell you, if I were a younger woman- haha yes, sounds great! Next Saturday?- Nine- Great stuff- I'll speak to you soon.” 
Placing the phone down with a little click, you cross your legs and look at Eddie smugly. 
His jaw may as well be on the floor, eyebrows so high that he resembles a cartoon character. 
“Barb? Selling out their shows? If I were a younger woman? Where the fuck did that come from?” 
You giggle, “I thought he'd listen if he thought I was a business connection. I took a shot, a little bullshit can take you far.” 
He swoops over to you and grabs you in his arms, lifting you bodily from your seat and swinging you around as you squeal helplessly. 
“Saturday? Not even midweek? Princess I owe you big time.” 
“Eddie I already owe-” 
He's not listening, running over to Mac and bouncing on the spot like a child. “Mac, Mac, did you hear? I'm playing at The Pit!!” 
You watch as he explains what just happened; he's so animated, gesticulating wildly as loose locks of hair fly from his bun. Mac beams at him and hugs him in a fatherly motion before Eddie springs back over to you. 
“Who the fuck is Barb?”
“I dunno, she sounded worldly.” 
He grins, shaking his head, “I can't believe you lied for me. You seem… different lately. More confident. It suits you.” 
Blushing, you thank him. For a second you stare at each other, both lost in the other. 
Eddie shakes his head, and looks at the time. 
“Fuck, right, I got 20 minutes, I'll be back!” He grabs his coat and runs out of the shop shouting “personal errand!” 
Chuckling, you sit back down at the counter. Mac approaches, smiling softly. 
“You did good Miss, he's really happy.” 
“Thanks, I couldn't bear the sulking.” 
He laughs and touches your shoulder, “he cares about you. In case you didn't notice.” 
He walks away nonchalantly as if he didn't just drop a bomb at your feet. Eddie cares about you? You're still pondering it when he returns a half hour later looking sweaty and dishevelled. 
“Princess, I got you a present,” he whispers, brandishing a nondescript black bag at you. You peek inside and shut it immediately. 
“Eddie what the fuck!” You whisper, face flooding with blood at the sight as you hide it under the counter. There's a sex toy in the bag, well at least one, but you were so shocked at the sight you didn't get a good look. 
He chuckles and leans in close. “Thought you'd like it.” 
“Eddie I don't know how to- to use this stuff,” you mumble quietly, looking around to make sure no one's listening. 
He smirks at you in response.
“You free tonight? I can show you.” 
Taglist
@liminalpebble @eddies-puppet @rip-quizilla @micheledawn1975 @vanilla-demon @millercontracting @roanniom @josephquinnsfreckles @leelei1980 @mrsjellymunson @eddiesprincess86 @ali-r3n @choke-me-eddie @littlebebebunny @big-ope-vibes @tlclick73 @reidsgubbler @siriuslysmoking @keanureevessmile @fhsbsvy @yourdailymemedelivery @aurora-austen @rach5ive @honey-teaaaaaaaa @nina211544 @bbabycass @cactusangie @skrzydlak @took-me-hours-to-steal-those @hereforshmut @nabiiturner @darlingbravebelle @freak-of-hawkins @randomworker @serenadingtigers @1paire2vans @sapphire4082 @xmasterofmunsonx @steamystrangerfics @vol2eddie @storiesbyrhi
1K notes · View notes
poksmimi · 1 month
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
FUCKING YOUR STEP-BROTHERS!
contains♪ : scaramouche, alhaitham x afab!reader, stepcest, stepbrother, stepfather, breeding kink, rough sex, unprotected sex, reader wears a skirt, GN!reader, no pronouns for reader, squirting, pussy spanking, ass spanking(once), clit rubbing, degradation, name calling; whore, slut. Petnames; Darling, Baby, grammar mistakes.
notes♪ : 'm love icky boys, so be warned!! and part will be Dottore, Zhongli !! ꒰⁠⑅⁠ᵕ⁠༚⁠ᵕ⁠꒱⁠˖ ♪ !! If there are any grammar mistakes, tell me!!
Tumblr media
SCARAMOUCHE
You turn your head sideways, your eyes meet up to see his, your stepbrother's eyes. He has a smirk on his face, his teeth showing. His hand was gripping at your leg, going up to your thigh as he slips his pants into your skirt, his hand rests on your cunt through your panties. You gulp and sweat goes down your face, his hand slowly rubbing up and down your cunt. Your pussy begins to get wet, a shiver of satisfaction goes down your spinal cord. He looks at you and you know what to do afterwards this dinner is over.
The bed is creaking, the headboard hitting the wall. Your mouth is wide open and drool hits your pillow, your mind feels hazy and he grabs your face. Your hands grip at pillow, his dick hitting spots in your cunt, he groans and closes his eyes. Gritting his teeth and the squeezing of your cunt doesn't help, your cunt feels so good around his dick. His face flushes red, his hair sweating to his forehead as sweat covers his body, his hands shakily grip at your hips, pounding fast and hard at you. "Fuck– your slutty cunt feels so 'm good around 'm!" He mutters, a ring of white liquid surrounds his cock. Your eyes are completely rolled back, your hair is sticking to your sweaty body. You can taste your own drool going back to your mouth as you can feel his dick ramming inside of you, your sight is hazy and blurry. You can smell sex, sweaty bodies and you can hear you and scara moaning, the springs of the bed speaking and the headboard hitting the wall in loud thumps. You don't know how long you guys been going, but your cunt still clenches for more. Your nails dig into the pillow and your cunt spasms around his cock, he bites down in his lower lip and goes faster, feeling his end and he closes his eyes, nails digging into your soft skin. "Darlin', your going to make 'm fucking fill you up again." He whispers, you moan weakly, the bed stops creaking as he stops and digs his nails dig in your skin, his palm spanks your pussy as you stiffen, your clit getting spanked adds more pleasure, you squeal and you squirt, wetting the bedsheet so much. His dick spurting out his semen, filling you up, some of his seed spills onto the cum-covered bedsheet. His hand spanks your cunt once more and his palm connects to your ass, smirking down at you. "You didn't think this was over, did you baby~?" He smirks.
Tumblr media
ALHAITHAM
You smile at him, showing your teeth and he glanced at you, you smile nervously. Fixing yourself up, fixing your hair and getting up before making your way to him, you had always been interested in Him and him becoming your stepbrother was going to make it more easier to be near him. He looks at you and your hands begin to be sweaty, he blinks and shakes your hand, you grip at his hand. You see a glint in his eyes, your face becomes darker, a shiver of pleasure or fear goes down your spine, your legs close and you hope that what your thinking is true.
"Al-haithie!" You croak, your eyes rolling back to your head, his big dick was pounding inside your squishy, mushy wetness. The table rattles, making the legs hot and scrap the floor hard, your legs wobble as his dick makes you cock-drunk. "Isn't this what you wanted 'm to do all along! You whore, you wanted this." He whispers, holding your waist, playing with the skin as he fucks you, it makes a loud clapping sound when he thrusts back into you. Your vocal cords hurting due to screaming in pleasure, your toes curl, loud clapping and thumping is heard until he comes to a stop. His dick spurting out his semen, your cunt clenches really hard around his dick, some of his seeds slip out and go onto the floor. You can hear your heartbeat but he doesn't stop, you yelp and grip at the table. "Wha—?" You say but his hand covers your mouth as his other hand hooks you under and makes you stand as he faces your body towards the couch, his two fingers inside your mouth as he taps your tongue. Making you suck on his two digits as he begins to move once more, fucking your wet filled-cum pussy, your cunt leaking out semen your juices onto the floor, his hard dick fucks your tight cunt. Your moans are muffled as tears begin to develop in your eyes, he groans into your ear, closing his eyes as he fucks you. "Going to come for your step brother, aren't you slut?" He speaks, his face is red and his white hair clings to his forehead, your hair sticks to your sweaty body. His dick was making you crave for more even when he is still fucking your cunt, his fingers leave your mouth and lay on-top of your bud. Resting on your clit as he rubs it, adding more not the pleasure, your eyes roll back as you scream. He fucks into your cunt so hard while rubbing furiously at your clit, your vision goes blurry, your stomach feels weird as you let out a loud-moan scream, his palm rubs at your clit and pussy, your squirting, wetting the couch and the ground. "AHh!" Your moans continue as he kisses your check, his dick soon spurting out semen, filling your cunt with more gooey cream. "Don't worry, darlin'. We aren't over just yet~" he purrs.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
2K notes · View notes
spyder-junkie · 11 months
Text
I just cant stop thinking of Earth-42! miles with a reader that falls for prowler first.
(had to rewrite this post because it didnt save the first time *frustration*)
part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4
EARTH-42 MILES MORALES X Reader
Tumblr media
I imagine you’ve snuck out, leaving your apartment in the middle of the night unbeknownst to your parents.
Youre walking down to your house under the cover of darkness when quickly you notice your being followed.
You curse silently.
The man behind you is much bigger than you are, and youre not sure you could fight him off if it came to it.
You start taking random turns, leading the man away from your apartment building, but as you being to pass an alley way, he grabs you, ducking you in.
He has you against a wall, his forearm holding your neck to the bricks.
“Youre real beautiful, do me a favor and keep quiet.” You flinch as his voice, hands shaking as your eyes begin to water.
Then suddenly theres a ‘whoosh’ and the man falls to the ground, dead.
You look up to your rescuer, and its the prowler, a well know criminal in the area.
Your heart beats in your ears as he begins to walk away, boots clanking down the sidewalk.
You run after him.
“Thank you!” You say, jogging to keep up with his strides.
“You really saved my ass.”
“It’s dangerous out at night.” He huffs, voiced warbled by the mask. You let out a little chuckle.
“Yeah…” You stop walking.
“Could you walk me home? please?”
The prowler stops walking, most likely contemplating what he should do. Then he lets out another sigh.
“You owe me.” He states firmly, turnning around to face you.
You smile, carefully wrapping your hand around two if his clawed, gloved fingers and leading him in the opposite direction.
The walk was almost silent, you taking occasional glances at the villian by your side. You noticed he had two thick braids that cascaded down his neck.
What you didnt notice was the glances he spared at you.
When the two if you reached your apartment, he watched as you climbed the fire escape to your window. You open it, climbing inside. Then you pole your head back out, mouthing a ‘thank you!’ and waving down at the prowler.
you wait expectantly for him to wave back, smiling once he finally does.
Then he disappears.
You didnt know if you would ever see the masked villian again.
So imagine your surprise two weeks later when theres a knock at your window.
It was around 8pm, you were working on a school assignment when the sound of metal tapping glass hit your ears.
You turn in your spinning chair, eyes widened at the sight of prowler crouched in your window.
You rush to unlock it, pullibg up the glass pane and letting the night air in.
“Missed me?” You ask, trying to mask the shaking in your voice.
“Do you have a digital alarm clock?” He asks, ignoring your question all together.
You think for a moment.
“I might have my old one in my closet.” You say, not giving him a chance to reply before you turned on your heel.
You expected him to follow you, but he didnt, staying perched in the window and looking around your bedroom from the outside.
He waited as you rummaged through your things.
Then suddenly you emerged, holding an alarm clock, the cord trailing behind you.
What do you need it for?” you ask.
“Mechanical parts.” was his vauge reply.
, you hand it to him.
He held it in one of his clawed hands, getting ready to depart. That was until you crossed your arms and loudly cleared your throat.
He looked at you.
“Thank you?” You raise an eyebrow.
“……..Thanks.” He mumbles, just before jumping off the fire escape and disappearing again.
The next time you see him is well over a month later.
Its a little past 3am, and you’re well into needed sleep.
Then theres another knock at you window.
A bunch of knocks actually. You hear the metal tapping sound until you rise from your bed, annoyed to say the least.
When you see Prowler at your window once again, you pick up the pace moving to the window to open it.
This time, as soon as you life the pane, he steps in.
Or he tries to, he trips, his body hitting the ground softly next to your bed.
“Woah- are you alright…” You ask, panicked.
He doesn’t answer.
“Prowler….?” You ask, closing the window.
Still no answer.
“pleasedontbedeadpleasedontbedeadpleasedontbedead…” You press your ear to his metal chest, bending down to his laying position.
Hes breathing.
You sigh in relief.
You sit and think for a moment before carefully sitting him up.
You try your best to remove all the parts of his suit, placing them in a neat pile in your closet as you go.
You realize theres a flesh wound on the side of his ribs, and a couple cuts and bruises elsewhere.
After immense debate, you hesitantly press the button on his mask, letting it move to the side to reveal his face.
Hes…handsome, you realize, and much younger than you imagined. There was a cut on his face and a bruise by his hairline, there was a bit of bleeding in his scalp, you assumed thats what caused him to pass out.
You tiptoe to the bathroom, grabbing a first aid kit and begining to clean him up with a warm rag and bandages.
You even unbraid his hair, dressing the wound in his scalp and braiding it back in a way that wouldn’t irritate the healing.
He doesnt stir in the slightest, seemingly a heavy sleeper.
After you’re finished, you carefully move him to your bed, and cuddle up beside him. You get close, but dont touch him, then slowly you drift off to sleep.
When Miles wakes up, his initial response is panic. He begins to look around, trying to pinpoint where he is.
He flinches as he lifts his arm to rub the sleep from his eyes.
“Good morning.” You say, emerging from the bathroom dressed for school the day.
He watches as you begin to do your hair in the mirror.
“G’mornin.” He mumbles, still watching you.
“How are you feeling?” You ask. He looks down, analyzing how you dressed his wounds.
“Im fine. Sore. You aint do too bad here.” He says. Now you can really hear his accent without the mask.
“Good. Good… you scared me yknow, I was worried.” You mumble.
Miles furrows his eyes, but he keeps quiet.
He watches as you grab you bookbag and your keys.
“Your suit is in my closet. I set out clean towels in my bathroom if you want to shower. My dad is gone for the day, you can make yourself something to eat if you’d like. Leave whenever you want, just please close my window when you go.” You say, hand on the doorframe.
“Okay………..….thank you.” he mumbles, still staring hard at you.
“You’re welcomeee…..” You leave the sentence open.
“…..Miles.” He says softly.
“Miles.” You repeat.
“Get some rest.” You say, opening the door.
“And dont be a stranger.”
His gaze lingers on the doorway even long after you’ve left.
And when you come home, Miles is gone.
The towels are in the hamper, his suit is gone from the closet, your bed is made, and the window is closed, its like he was never there at all.
But then sitting on your desk, theres $300 cash and a small note.
“Thanks again, Hermosa……-Miles”
7K notes · View notes
bleubrri · 1 year
Text
۪۫ ༄ؘ ˑ ᴛʜᴀᴛ’s ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪ ʟɪᴋᴇ — ʜᴀɪᴋʏᴜᴜ
ft daichi / tsukishima / ukai / ushijima
summary: haikyuu boys realising they have a thing
Tumblr media
༄ؘ ˑ SAWAMURA DAICHI — MARKING
running your teeth over the calloused tips of his fingers before taking them into your mouth is something daichi is used to. what he’s not used to is the feeling of your hand replacing the heat of your mouth, pumping him with languid strokes while you sink your teeth into his hip and bite. a strangled sort of noise leaves him, like he can’t decide whether to yelp or moan.
“what are you doing?”
“sorry.” you flash him a sheepish smile and press your lips over the reddened indents of your teeth. something swirls in his gut and daichi can practically feel his pupils dilate at the sight of the shallow imprints of your canines in his skin. claiming.
“no it—” he swallows thickly, broad chest heaving when you squeeze him at the base. your cheek is resting against his thigh, his aching length obscuring his view of your doe-eyed expression. “feels good.” he says, slipping a hand into your hair.
“really?” you look proud, eyes twinkling with delight as you trail your lips across his skin.
“mm, will you do it again, baby?”
this time, you can feel his dick twitching in your grasp when you nip at the sensitive flesh of his inner thigh. you’re jerking him with slickened strokes, your other hand caged between the mattress and digging crescents into his ass.
your mouth feels like it’s everywhere, and when he’s coming down from his high, spent and coated in a sheen of sweat, it looks like you have been: the corded muscle of his thighs is tender to the touch and covered in bruises. hues of raspberry and darkened plum sucked into his skin and teeth marks glistening with saliva that he wears like a badge of honor.
༄ؘ ˑ TSUKISHIMA KEI — HAIR PULLING
honestly, he has no idea what he’s doing. he’s never gone down on anyone before, but it’s easier than he thought, and you seem to be enjoying it. he’s hesitant at first, just exploring your folds, running his tongue along every part of you until he finds something that makes your breath hitch. you’re so.. receptive, muffled sounds of pleasure slipping from your lips and guiding him to focus in on what you like.
he makes a very interesting discovery when he curls his tongue inside you and you clench around him, a hand flying into his hair and gripping blonde locks between your fingers. he blinks, does it again, and you sing for him.
“fuck, tsukki, right there—” your nails are grazing his scalp as you tug him closer and he shivers, grips your hips and lets himself be shoved further into your cunt. his spine is tingling, nose pressed into your clit as he buries himself in your pussy and maps out your insides until your soaked walls are moulded to the shape of his tongue. he’s groaning into your heat when the flavour of you bursts across his tongue, lapping at your release and urging you to tug.
he mumbles something that gets lost in the lewd slurping between your legs, and when your hand slips away and you start to wriggle from his grasp, he snaps his head up and yanks your wrist back into his hair.
“harder.” he repeats it with so much fervour that all you can do is blink, slowly nodding in a lustful haze and guiding his mouth back to the apex of your thighs.
༄ؘ ˑ UKAI KEISHIN — BREEDING
the room is starting to get so hot that it’s making you lightheaded. ukai is hovering over you, pushing your knees further into your chest with each thrust as you desperately cling to his shoulders. the sticky tip of his cock hitting your g-spot has your nails reflexively dragging along the taut muscle of his back at a pressure that you both know will bloom angry red columns of scratches against his tan skin.
his cum has started to drip down the seam of your ass, sticky ropes of it beginning to coat his balls that press against you when he buries himself to the hilt and rolls his hips. it has your toes curling, your eyes hazy and pussy pulsing so hard you ache.
“‘m full keishi—hah!” you actually jolt beneath him when he presses a calloused thumb into the slick mess of your clit.
“one more.” he offers, “just one more, angel.” and it doesn’t take long either—all ukai has to do is picture you swollen with his seed, full tits and glowing features, and he’s releasing another load into your spent pussy with a drawn out string of expletives.
you’re reaching for him, navigating every hot curl of his tongue in a sloppy connection of your mouths while keishins hips fuck his cum back into you. he can feel your blissful smile against his lips, “that all ya wanted? hm? wanted me to fuck a baby into ya, sweetheart?”
༄ؘ ˑ USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI — LINGERIE
if he’s being completely honest he rarely pays attention to what you’re wearing before he fucks you—it’s coming off soon, so why think too hard about it? plus, he prefers you bare anyway.
but this, oh he likes this. and you can tell. you watch his adams apple bob when he swallows from his place seated on the edge of the mattress as you step out of the bathroom with a shy smile. you pad into the room, give him a little twirl as you present yourself to him. wakatoshi has to release the sheets clenched between his fists and remember to breathe.
“it’s cute, don’cha think?” you’re glimpsing at yourself in the mirror, adjusting a strap here, plucking at the fabric that sticks to you like second skin. he hums, feeling foolish for envying strips of lace and cotton.
wakatoshi reaches for your hip when you’re in his reach, pulls you to stand between his legs only for you to crawl into his lap. he can feel the heat of you, and if you notice the hardness between his legs you don’t comment on it. you’re nosing at his jaw, and he feels a groan bubbling at the back of his throat when you press your chest to his. nimble fingers tugging at the clasp between your shoulder blades pulls his focus from dragging his lips along the dips of your collarbone. when a large hand closes over yours and guides it away from your back, you fix him with a questioning look.
wakatoshi looks up at you through unfairly thick lashes, his mouth at your sternum pushing fire into your chest.
“keep it on, hm?”
☆ — reblogs / comments are super appreciated<3
9K notes · View notes
delirious-donna · 1 year
Text
tw: size kink, mating press, implied unprotected sex, female reader
Tumblr media
“You’re so—big!” Your words are whimpered against a neck corded with muscles, taut from exertion and covered in a thin sheen of sweat. It’s an understatement; truly so.
He dwarves you without even trying, a familiar shadow cast above your head when he approaches and your protector from the elements. Broad shoulders, thickset biceps and hands that can span around a sizeable portion of your waist. Everything about him is big, even down to his presence, but you never notice it more than when he has you pinned beneath him.
Draping you like a personal weighted blanket, a blanket intent on carving your insides until you’re moulded to him perfectly. Who hushes your whimpered cries with bruising kisses because he simply cannot be gentle with you in these moments. Your hulking giant who holds you perfectly still without much effort, manhandling you from your back to your front and arching you to ensure the thick mushroom tip of his cock hits relentlessly against that rigged area on your front wall. He won’t stop at one orgasm, oh no, he has to own you entirely and that means filling you over and over until he’s satisfied.
“My little one, taking me so damn well. C’mon… another— atta girl!”
————————————————-
Bakugou, Kirishima, Deku, Toshinori, Kakashi, Kiba, Obito, Naruto, Daichi, Bokuto, Kuroo, Ushijima, Atsumu, Osamu, Nanami, Sukuna, Geto, Toji, Choso, Alhaitham, Zhongli, Diluc, Kaeya
6K notes · View notes
steddiealltheway · 2 months
Text
It's Cass Day!!!! Happy happy happy happy birthday @henderdads. i love you so so much, and I'm so thankful that you let me plot all my fics and ficlets (including this one ha!) in your dms. (and of course, I'm thankful for you forever and always for everything). I hope you enjoy and have a wonderful birthday :))))
Wednesday afternoons are Steve’s favorite afternoon out of the whole week.
There’s something about pushing a squeaky cart around the local grocery store and making small talk with the Wednesday regulars - a gossipy book club of moms who do their shopping at the same time so they have more time to complain about their husbands - that really fills Steve heart. (Or maybe it’s just the slight bitchy side of him that loves to rag on Elizabeth’s husband Tom who really needs to get his head out of his ass and appreciate the beauty in front of him, and of course he can’t forget Charles, Lisa’s dick of a husband who apparently doesn’t know what a date night is, oh! And Margaret’s husband Al… and really, he could go on about these husbands for hours without getting tired of it)
Really, he loves the routine of it all. And the way the women dote on him for being so kind to his girlfriend back home - which he constantly reminds them is not his girlfriend. But he sometimes wishes the groceries in his cart and the scribbled list in his hand was for someone he could go back home to greet with a kiss. (After giving Robin a hug of course, because in any fantasy, some of those things on that list and in the cart are always going to be for Robin).
But really, it would be nice to have someone to brag about to the group. Maybe bring up their spirits that love is not lost and-
Steve stops in his tracks, all thoughts gone from his head as he does a double take at the magazine rack near the checkout. And yeah, he knows that Corroded Coffin is popular. Hell, he’s seen Eddie’s face on the same rack at least five times before. But never like this.
The picture on the front page is taken at a lower angle, with Eddie clad in leather pants and a tight mesh black shirt that might be a crop top, but Steve can’t tell with the way Eddie’s guitar is covering his midriff, hands flying over the frets, showing off silver rings glimmering under the stage lights including the one that Steve helped Dustin pick out for him as a celebratory gift. But as Steve’s eyes trace over Eddie’s bare arms and the stark black tattoos, he’s led to wild curls perfectly framing Eddie’s face which stares down at the cords, mouth parted in an ‘o’ shape and eyebrows knitted together in concentration in a way that makes Steve feel weak in the knees.
And Steve’s suddenly hit with the question: Why didn’t anyone tell him that Eddie was hot???
He snatches the magazine off the rack before he can even really think about it, and tries not to think of what the moms will say about him when he leaves.
Maybe they’ll stop assuming he has a girlfriend at home at least.
During his drive home, he can’t help but think about the magazine laying between the loaf of bread and carton of ice cream that were packed together by the newest bag boy - which the ladies have a lot to say about, but Steve can’t think of anything besides that damn picture.
Once he’s back at the apartment, he puts the groceries away at an alarmingly fast rate, before making his way to the couch and laying back with the magazine in his hands.
It’s nice to see Eddie on the front cover of a magazine without it being attached to some weird scandal that Eddie had nothing to do with. Usually it’s an ill timed photo because he always happens to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. But this time…
Steve let’s out a deep breath and flips through the magazine, hoping that there’s some type of interview with more pictures that he can secretly stare at and panic about later.
There’s a bunch of boring looking articles and ads until he spots a page with bright red lettering and a number of pictures. Steve can’t help but wet his lips when he opens the page to find a picture of Eddie smiling at something off camera, looking totally different from the front cover. He just looks like… Eddie.
Yet, Steve finds his heart racing even harder at this picture, missing those dimples and that glimmer of mischief in Eddie’s eyes that’s usually directed at him. And Steve suddenly wonders what or who Eddie's looking at, feeling a bloom of jealousy in his chest.
He glances away from the picture and scans the page for another one. He smiles when he sees Eddie with the rest of his band mates, leaning heavily on Jeff while pulling his signature expression, nearly elbowing Jeff in the ribs to do his devil horns.
Steve laughs at Jeff’s face scowling down at him while Gareth and Frank cackle beside them. He wonders when they’ll be back in town.
Wait.
Steve dog ears the page before running up to his calendar where Robin had written “Dustin’s favorite day ever” on the upcoming Friday.
“Oh no,” Steve mutters to himself. That’s way too damn soon for Eddie to come home after Steve’s realization. He needs to give him at least two weeks to panic and process.
Okay, if Eddie was there with him, the panicking and processing would probably happen in two hours- no, minutes- maybe even seconds. But giving Steve two days is not the right amount of time. That’s just enough time for Steve to really start and settle into the panic. But hey, maybe he can dedicate the next twenty-four hours to panicking and the twenty-four hours after that to processing. Right?
Absolutely. He can do this.
-:-:-:-:-:-
"Robin, I can't do this."
Robin rolls her eyes at him. "I can't believe one picture wrecked you."
"It's not my fault! It's the damn photographer and whoever put that picture on the front cover," Steve complains, running a hand through his hair. "They're the ones who made me think of him like that."
"Uh huh."
Steve glances over at Robin who looks completely engrossed in painting her nails a deep purple color that looks black from where Steve is standing. He glances at himself in the mirror, nervously styling his hair before picking up the magazine from where it has made a permanent home on the coffee table. He flops down on the couch next to Robin who yelps and groans, "You made me smudge my nail polish!"
"We have more important things to worry about than the state of your nail polish."
Robin carefully cleans around the edge of her nail, stained with the dark color before turning to Steve. "Yes, the sudden realization that Eddie is hot is very important to me."
"You know what I mean," Steve sighs, leaning back against the couch as he opens the magazine to his favorite picture of Eddie in this edition. He looks at it for a moment, immediately closing it when he realizes he's smiling.
Robin blows on her nails and frowns before glancing back at Steve. "Okay. He's going to be here in less than an hour. How can I help you? Although, I really don't think you'll need my help at all."
"What do you mean?" Steve asks, a pinch forming between his brows.
Robin gives him a look. "You're going to act weird around him. He's going to eventually pick up on it. And then you're going to confess all these feelings you're having and then..." Robin has a sudden look of realization and immediate disappointment. "Then, I'm going to have to find somewhere else to stay tonight since you told Eddie he could stay here on the couch, which is not going to happen after your little confession."
"He's going to leave?" Steve asks quickly in confusion and slight panic.
Robin huffs, "No, he's going to be staying in your bed. And I really do not want to hear that."
Steve frowns. "You don't even know if he thinks I'm hot."
A look passes over Robin's face, first humor, then a bit of confusion, disbelief, and, once again, disappointment. "Steve," she asks, grabbing his hand, eyes staring hard into his. "This whole time you've had the magazine, you never read the interview?" Robin asks as if it's the most important question she's ever asked him.
"Why would I read it?" Steve asks with a shake of his head. When Robin's jaw drops, he gets the sudden message that he is definitely missing something. He snatches up the magazine and flips it open, somehow not getting to the interview right away although he was sure that he opened it to that page so much that it permanently creased the spine.
Just as he gets to it. There's a loud, persistent knock on the door.
Steve's and Robin's eyes meet in a panic. "Hide the magazine," Robin all but hisses as she makes it to the door raising her voice to say, "We have neighbors! Keep it down, dingus!"
Steve looks around, wondering if he can shove the magazine under the couch, but he knows Eddie would somehow see it in his antics. When he spots the stack of magazines on their side table, he rushes to put the magazine right in the middle of them. Hiding in plain sight. Perfect.
He stands up as soon as the door swings open, trying not to look guilty and failing miserably, only to breathe a sigh of relief when he realizes it's only Dustin. "Henderson," he says with a goofy smile launching into their handshake and ending it with a quick laugh, knocking off Dustin's hat to ruffle his hair.
When Dustin starts complaining about his hat being on the floor, Steve bends down to pick it up, only for a pale, ring-clad hand to grab onto it at the same time Steve does.
Steve glances up and locks eyes with Eddie. His heart starts to pound at an alarming rate as he takes in the familiar deep brown irises, moving on to take in the slight blush on Eddie's cheeks alongside a wide smile. "Steeeve Harrington," Eddie drawls out, the way he does when he hasn't seen him in a while.
"Munson," Steve says with a nod, a wide smile tugging at his lips that he tries to push down, as he always does when it comes to Eddie as if pretending not to care. The same way he does when he's trying to get someone to like him...
Oh.
Shit, he doesn't just think he's hot. He likes him. Hell, he's liked him for a long time even. And now he has even less time to panic about that.
Steve glances up, finding that Eddie has stood up, hat still between their hands as he stares down confusedly at Steve. He offers a hand, and Steve takes it, easily being pulled up into his space. He lingers close to Eddie, eyes dipping down to his lips, realizing how much he wants- needs this.
He glances up at Eddie, finding his pupils blown wide and his brow furrowed. And Steve finally feels that electricity that he's been searching months- no, years for.
"Am I getting my hat back?" Dustin asks, clearly annoyed.
Steve and Eddie both shove the hat over at the same time, eyes reluctantly leaving each other, only for Steve to see Robin giving him an unimpressed look. He can practically see her trying to figure out who she's going to call to spend the night with.
Steve glances back at Eddie and rushes out, "It's- uh, good to see you again."
Eddie grabs a strand of hair and pulls it in front of his face, kicking nothing as he says, "You miss me, Steve?"
Steve shakes his head automatically, "No." He turns to Dustin and asks him when the others are getting there, but his question is answered when the door opens behind them again.
"Do you guys knock?" Robin asks, stealing the words out of Steve's mouth.
"Do you guys lock your door?" Mike snarks back.
Steve sighs and moves to Robin's side, watching as the kids all greet Eddie excitedly. "Why don't they greet us like that?" Steve quietly bitches.
"Because we're not famous and gone all the time," Robin answers with a frown. "By the way, tonight is going totally as I planned."
Steve rolls his eyes. "No, it is not. I have been acting completely normally around him."
"Yeah, because you two have the tendency to eye fuck each other for an uncomfortable amount of time." Robin pauses and considers what she said. "Actually, I take that back. You two are acting completely normal."
"Since when do we-"
"Hey," Eddie says, successfully cutting Steve off, "When the pizzas get here, I'm paying."
Robin nudges Steve in the side after a few seconds pass, and Steve can't help but stare at the man instead of processing anything he said. "Hmm?"
"I'm paying for the pizza you all ordered," Eddie says, brows still furrowed. "Are you okay?"
Steve nods and crosses his arms. "Yes, it's just that we didn't order any pizza."
"But Dustin said..." Eddie trails off and glances at the kids. "Those little shits."
"Someone needs to give them a stern talking to."
Eddie raises his brows. "Are you shirking your co-parenting duties while I'm away?"
Steve huffs out a laugh. "Don't worry, I'm keeping your sheep in line."
Eddie offers him a big smile and leans in to say, "Sorry, I can't be here often, sweetheart."
Steve shoves him away with a roll of his eyes, ignoring the way his heart flutters at the nickname. "Go do your part and entertain them."
"And pay for the food!" Eddie reminds him yet again, walking toward the group, eyes not leaving Steve.
"My hero," Steve says, taking a page from Eddie's book of dramatics by crossing his hands over his heart and fluttering his lashes.
Eddie stops in his tracks, looking over him before shaking his head and going to the table where everyone is setting up.
"That was painful to witness," Robin says, scaring the shit out of Steve. She crosses her arms. "Did you really forget I was here?" When Steve doesn't respond, she walks away, muttering, "Unbelievable."
Steve runs a hand through his hair, willing his heart to slow down before he has to sit through this long-ass campaign - that he secretly really enjoys, but no one except Robin will ever know.
-:-:-:-:-:-
A few hours later, Steve finds himself giving the kids hugs as they rush out his door, nearly missing their curfew. When they make their way to Eddie, he whispers to Robin, "See, the night didn't go as planned at all."
Robin raises her eyebrows at him and whispers back, "Yeah, you're not going to act weird at all when you two are alone."
Steve gives her a panicked look. "What do you mean- you're not leaving are you?"
Robin throws her hands up in a shrug as she backs up into her room, leaving the door open as she very obviously packs an overnight bag. Steve wonders if there is any way to stop her without alerting Eddie.
"What's Buckley doing?" Eddie asks, startling Steve. Eddie reaches out and lays a hand on his shoulder. "Are you okay? You've been on edge all night."
Steve nods automatically. "Yeah, I'm fine." And yeah, he is fine. And he has not been on edge at all because that would mean that Robin is right.
Speak of the devil... "I'm heading out tonight! You two have fun," Robin says with a salute. "I'll see you tomorrow." Before Steve or Eddie can stop her, she's already out the door, leaving them entirely alone. Steve doesn't even remember when the kids all left.
"I'm guessing you know what that's about," Eddie says, eyebrows disappearing under his bangs as he stares at the door.
"No idea," Steve replies, making his way back to the dining area to clean up the remaining mess the teens made, and really he was going to have to give them another lecture about cleaning up after themselves.
"Steve," Eddie says softly.
Steve hums in response but doesn't dare to look his way as he stacks up various empty plastic cups.
"Steve," Eddie tries again.
And Steve knows that tone. Knows that if he fully engages, Eddie will want to have a serious conversation which is not something they often do. So he just keeps cleaning until there's nothing left to do except brush imaginary crumbs off the table.
"Steve," Eddie says, voice impossibly close to him.
Steve takes a deep breath and turns to him, heart skipping a beat when he finds Eddie hovering in his space.
"What's going on?" Eddie asks gently.
Steve shakes his head and runs a hand through his hair. "Nothing." He quickly moves away from Eddie, grabbing a napkin off one of the kitchen counters and tossing it into the trash on his way to the living room.
"Why are you acting weird?"
"I'm not," Steve says, resting his hands on his hips in the same way he does when the kids start to annoy him.
Eddie raises his eyebrows and crosses his arms, staring but not saying anything.
Steve stares back, jutting his hip out in a show of how adamant he is about his answer.
After a few tense seconds pass by, Eddie slowly walks closer to him, and Steve fights for his eyes to not flicker down to his lips. When Eddie is within arms reach, he leans forward. "Steve, what is wrong?"
Steve shrugs nonchalantly, but his eyes betray him and flicker to the stack of magazines beside the couch. He tries to keep his features carefully blank, but he sees the moment Eddie realizes there is something significant about that glance.
Before Steve can stop him, Eddie is diving down to the magazines, snatching up the whole stack in his arms. Steve moves forward to grab them, only to realize his error when Eddie scoots back and smiles wildly. "This is it, isn't it? What, did you hide a filthy magazine inside here or something?"
"Eddie..." Steve warns, standing above him, hands still on his hips.
Eddie smiles before turning his eyes to the stack and leafing through them. Steve moves down quickly, knocking the magazines out of his hands as he practically straddles Eddie. He stares down at him, eyes wide, about to move back when he notices Eddie's eyes resting on his stomach.
Steve glances down between them only to see the image of Eddie on the front cover staring back at him.
"Shit, I didn't know they released that yet," Eddie says, laying fully back, hands dragging over his face. He lets them rest there before spreading his fingers to ask, "You read the interview, didn't you?"
"No," Steve says honestly.
Eddie frowns and props himself up on his elbows. "When did you get this?"
"Wednesday." And curse his damn mouth for rambling without his permission.
"You got this two days ago but haven't read the interview?" Eddie's expression shifts from fearful to cocky. "Steve Harrington, did you buy this just to stare at me?"
"No," Steve says, crossing his arms.
Eddie sits up fully, and Steve becomes very aware of the way he's still sitting on top of Eddie's thighs. "Did you get all flustered about this?" Eddie asks, holding up the magazine teasingly.
Steve's eyes flicker to the front cover again, and his lips suddenly feel very dry. His tongue darts out to wet his lips. He glances back at Eddie and shrugs. "You look fine."
"Has anyone ever told you you're a bad liar?"
"Has anyone ever told you you need to get your ego in check?"
Eddie smirks at him. "Why would I need to do that when I know Steeeeve Harrington bought the magazine with my face on it?"
"Stop saying my name like that," Steve says, leaning forward trying to be menacing, but only satisfying Eddie by getting closer to him.
"Why? Steeev-" Eddie's cut off when Steve suddenly moves forward and kisses him, hands flying up into his curls to pull him closer.
Steve stills before pulling back, searching Eddie's eyes.
"You...?" Eddie asks before raking a hand through his hair. "You actually bought it to stare at me?"
Steve rolls his eyes. "You already knew that since I'm 'such a bad liar,'" Steve says adding air quotes.
"I was hoping you were. Christ, Steve, this?" Eddie asks, holding up the magazine.
Steve runs a hand through his hair. "You look hot!"
"Christ," Eddie says again, this time dropping the magazine to pull Steve into another kiss. He breaks it to mumble, "I can't believe you haven't read the damn interview." His hands run through Steve's hair messing up the strands before he pulls back suddenly. "Wait."
"Yeah?" Steve asks as Eddie's eyes practically glaze over in panic.
Eddie's chest heaves for a second before he says, "Fuck, you bought it because you thought I'm hot not because... fuck." He looks away from Steve and stares down at the magazine as if it personally offended him.
"Huh?" Steve asks, knees starting to ache on the hardwood floor. He climbs off of Eddie with a groan, but Eddie must take it wrong because he almost immediately stands up.
"Sorry, it's stupid," Eddie says with a humorless laugh. "Hey, do you think Buckley will be upset if I take her bed for the night? It's been a long day, and I'm about ready to clonk out."
Steve can feel his face morph into an expression of bewilderment. "Eddie, what?"
Eddie shakes his head. "Yeah, you're right. Dumb idea. Robin would kill me. I'll take the couch like usual."
Steve carefully stands and steps into Eddie's space, but Eddie sidesteps him easily. He watches as he flops down on the couch, refusing to look at him.
Steve's eyes settle back on the magazine, reaching down to grab it to find whatever the hell is in that interview.
"Steve, please don't."
Steve ignores Eddie the same way he ignored him, opening the magazine to the same page his eyes have landed on several times before. His eyes settle on the image of Eddie before moving to the words, skimming before he finds his own name staring back at him. He backtracks, looking at the question and answer.
Do you guys have any sources of inspiration?
Jeff: Oh, Eddie sure does.
Frank: He has what you might call a muse back at home.
Eddie: Please shut up.
Gareth: A beautiful muse with the most beautiful hair you've ever seen.
Eddie: Please stop talking about Stevie.
Jeff: He's just shy when it comes to his little crush.
Eddie: Next question, please.
Steve glances up at Eddie who sits red-faced on the couch. He clears his throat. "They told me they would cut it out entirely, but then they reached out later saying it was too good not to publish, but they did me the favor of changing your name to something more feminine so they didn't out me. Still fucked though. I'm sorry you got pulled into this mess."
Steve looks back at the magazine and then at Eddie. "Is it true?"
Eddie groans and lays back on the couch dramatically. "Please don't make me answer that. I've gotten enough shit from the guys, and I know you don't feel that way about me. It's okay that you only find me hot, I'll take what I can."
It hits Steve all at once what Eddie's sudden dramatics are about. "Oh my god. Eddie, I like you, too!"
Eddie's head pops up. "What?"
Steve turns the magazine to him and points at the picture of Eddie laughing. "This is what I've been so flustered and weird about. Yes, the front cover made me realize that, hey, I find you really attractive. But I've been staring at this picture for way longer, and I didn't know why until you got here tonight. And it hit me that I like you. I think I have for a long time, but I just didn't connect the dots before."
"You like me?" Eddie echos, dumbfounded.
Steve laughs. "Yes, I wouldn't have kissed you if I didn't have feelings for you."
"That's a fucking relief," Eddie says, scrambling off the couch and racing to pull Steve into another kiss.
Steve smiles into the kiss, pulling Eddie as close to him as possible as Eddie attempts to do the same.
"I'm going to give that photographer the biggest tip ever," Eddie says breaking the kiss for a moment only to kiss him again.
Steve smiles so wide that he can barely kiss Eddie back. When they break away, Steve says, "I'm going to have to buy another."
"Why?"
"I have to get the front picture and the interview framed," Steve says as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.
"Of course," Eddie says with a laugh before wrapping his arms around Steve and pulling him in close. "I missed you so much."
"I missed you, too," Steve replies.
They hold each other for a while, not willing to break the moment until a sudden thought has Steve groaning.
"What?" Eddie asks, pulling back to look at him.
"Robin was right."
Eddie smiles. "When is she not?"
"Never," Steve answers simply.
They stand in each other's arms just happy to be so close, taking each other in as if it's for the first time. Steve wonders what to tell the Wednesday regulars and how they'd respond if he introduced Eddie to them. He thinks back to Lisa's comments about how the group should just date each other and how Sarah had responded with a little too much enthusiasm, and Steve thinks things will be just fine.
"What are you thinking about?"
Steve shakes his head with a smile. "What are you doing this Wednesday?" he asks, making a mental note to add two frames, another magazine, and Robin's favorite ice cream to the list.
"Anything you want," Eddie replies easily.
And with that, Steve finds himself looking forward to his Wednesday afternoon even more than usual.
879 notes · View notes
lunargrapejuice · 20 days
Note
Hi how are you doing I was wondering if I can request a wriothesley, Neuvillette, xiao, and zhongli(separately) with a pregnant reader who falls down the stairs but the reader is okay
thank you for requesting! i'm sorry, i didn't write xiaos i just couldn't come up with something worthy of sharing slkhdfs but i hope you enjoy everyone elses<3
wriothesley, neuvillette + zhongli (separately) x pregnant!reader
warnings: hurt/comfort theme but no one actually gets hurt, lots of tears and congrats you've given your beloved a heart attack but all is well
Tumblr media
wriothesley:
you’re nearly to the top of the stairs in wriothesleys office when you see he isn’t here and let out a huff at how the trip up these stairs makes you so breathless in your current, very pregnant, state. by the lingering warmth and sweet scent of tea in the air, he must have been here not too long ago and at this point you might just take the few last steps up and rest of the couch, skipping your appointment with sigewinne and waiting for your husband to return here but maybe wrio was already making his way to the clinic.
at the height of your pregnancy brain right now, you can’t quite remember now if you told him this morning that you’d meet him here or there but with the lack of his presence now, you’re starting to think it’s the former. 
letting go of the chilled railing just long enough to turn around, you hold on tightly with each step you take down, your other hand cradling your round belly. you have to take each step one at a time, one foot after the other and archons it’s so exhausting to walk and your feet hurt and you just want to be laying in bed in your beloved arms with a serving bowl size of whatever you’ve been craving throughout the day.  
but especially to be with wriothesley. your pregnancy has brought your affection and want for him to a whole other level that was making it so you really might cry if you didn’t see him soon. he just.. made everything better with only a gentle touch and a flash of his smile, though it also helps that he dotes on your every want and need when he’s able and when it’s within reason. 
maybe it was that want that made your heart skip a beat when the large doors of his office open and not a second later you see the familiar tips of his dark hair and your already tired legs wobble, making you miss the next step down. it hurts your arm trying to hang onto the railing at such an awkward angle and you’re forced to let go, your body tensing and instinctively wrap around your stomach to try to prepare you for the impact of the metal stairs as you fall.
wriothesleys chest tightens quickly and terribly at the sight unfolding before him. he isn’t sure how he’s able to get out the call of your name but it seems drowned out anyways against his heavy boots hitting the ground, moving as fast as he possibly can to catch you. his knees crash into the metal stairs painfully in his movements to catch you in his arms but it’s nothing compared to how it feels to have you crashing into his body, your belly pressed against his chest, your trembling hands reaching for him as soon as they can.
he’s shaking too, despite how steady he is with the pressure he uses to hold you in this awkwardly crouched stance. not enough to hurt you, never enough to hurt you, but there’s no way you’re slipping from his grasp either.
“i’ve got you,” his voice is deep, barely above a whisper and with a quiver of lingering fear that makes you burst into tears even though you try so hard to hold them back.
the worried look on his face hurts more than the brunt of the few steps your body took. it’s nothing more than a fading throb of pain compared to cords of your heart strings being pulled more than they could handle right now and it’s all your fault - if you’d just - 
“i’m sorry,” you sob out, letting go of him to cover your weeping eyes. you feel him shift, keeping you in his arms with one strong arm at your back, the other under your knees, while he stands straight and easily holds you there, safe but maybe not so sound when you can’t stop crying. 
“sweetheart,” you can still hear the shake of his voice through how he’s still trying to remain calm for both of you while soothing your tears when you can’t find an ounce of it in yourself. “need you to tell me you’re okay,” because if you don’t he’ll be running with you in his arms as fast as he can to sigewinne.
you nod your head, doing all you can to get the words out. “’m okay.” you mumble through your tears. your wet hands move to grip onto the lapel of his vest, holding him tighter than before and you bury yourself in the comfort of his chest, taking in the good breath you can and it's so full of wriothesley you can’t help but sink further into his hold. “.. i’m s-sorry.”
he lets out a breath of relief as he leans down to kiss your temple. his lips and minty breath are warm, a balm to your overwhelming emotions and with a gentle voice he soothes you further, walking up the steps leading to his office. “it’s okay baby.” 
keeping you in his arms, he settles on the couch, letting your weary legs spread out over the cushion so he has a free hand to move the hair from your face, his tender and patient touch coaxing you to look at him once you’re ready. your eyes are puffy but still so beautiful, your breath starting to slow and returning to nearly normal at the feeling of his touch traveling from your face to your stomach, a large palm spread over the perfect curve of your baby bump.
his steady promise only calms you further, “everythings okay. we’re all okay.”
neuvillette:
after your nap on one of the many couches in the iudex office, a nap you hadn’t really expected to take when you stopped by to see neuvillette, you were surprised to wake alone. your trek here must have been more tiring than you thought since when you fell asleep you were resting on his arm and apparently hadn’t woken up when he tucked you under a blanket and put a pillow under your head.
when these items first made it here it was because of how many nights he spent sleeping in his office for a few hours in the late night before getting back to work. those nights had since stopped, especially since you found out you were pregnant, and now the comfortable blanket and pillow were more your own, these days only being used to cover your growing belly and rest your head comfortably when you inevitably fall asleep here.
but usually your husband was within reach when you awoke.
using your hands to help push yourself off the couch, you waddle towards the doors of his office, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, and the moment the large doors open, sedene is at your side with a wide smile and even bigger violet eyes. after rather excitedly asking if she can do anything for you, she lets you know neuvillette left her with a message that he would be just outside if you needed anything and with a thank you and a smile you head towards the doors of the palais mermonia.
it’s not that you needed anything from him per say, you felt okay and you know most things you could have asked sedene for. you also know how busy of a man he is so maybe you should have waited for him to come back inside but he had assured you, after one tearful night in the beginning of your pregnancy, that needing him was okay too. 
so you let your heart lead you to him, past the workers and visitors with only one thing on your mind; being in his arms even if it's only for a few more minutes before he has to get back to work and you take your own leave, having a few more errands to run before the day ends.
outside is warm under the bright sun, a cooling breeze keeping it from being too hot. it takes your eyes a few moments to adjust to the difference in light but you still spot the silhouette of neuvillette. many would agree he is easy to spot in a crowd but for you it was for far different reasons than just his height and his title and even now when all you could make out was the blue hue of his coat like a sparkling shell in the sand that is your blurry vision, you know it’s him and you can feel the movement of your baby at the emotions that stir within you as you take the steps towards him.
except two steps in, still trying to blink away the last of the dots of sunlight in your adjusting vision, there is no ground underneath your feet. you try to reach for the hand extended out to you though you don’t know whose it is but aren’t able to reach it in time before you begin to fall.
neuvillette doesn’t excuse himself from the conversation he had brought out here in order to allow you to sleep without disturbance before he’s moving quickly through the small crowd of people in order to get to you, his heart in his throat and even though he can move faster than most of those around him would be able to see, it doesn’t feel like fast enough when he watches you stumble.
it’s a split second, a blur of azure and white that hardly even moves the air in its wake, a blink of an eye and neuvillette has crossed the courtyard outside the palais mermonia and captured you in his arms before you can fall any further. 
you can feel and hear a thundering heart beat but between the two of you, with how close you are to neuvillette, you don’t know if it’s yours or his. behind his shoulder you can see the once bright blue sky is now covered by gray clouds and when your eyes focus on the face of the beautiful man holding you, you can see why it’s suddenly turned so dark, that the storm behind his worried eyes mirrors the one that brews in the sky.
it makes you want to cry way more than the pain of your fall and before you’ve even realized it, you break out in a full blown sob, hiding your face in his chest. you can feel the world around you move, it’s like you're nearly weightless, floating through the air like you aren’t incredibly pregnant but you don’t care to pull away from your place against your beloved to look around you and before you know it, you’re being gently placed back on the couch you had been asleep on just a bit ago.
neuvillette settles on his knees in front of you and you bring your hands up to face to wipe your tears but they fall to the top of your belly instead when long slender fingers beat you to it, their gentleness and warmth on your cheek beyond comforting. you don’t even know when he had time to take his gloves off but his skin on yours is exactly what your startled heart needed to settle. 
and though it is helping his own to see you calming down and feel you leaning into his touch, neuvillette has hardly been able to take a breath. it felt like it was taking all of his strength just to keep his hands steady. lavender petalled eyes shining with ethereal blue haven’t been able to tear from you and take in every inch of your skin, the curve of your baby bump that you hold in your arms, the small scrape on your hands where you tried to catch yourself that hadn’t broken your skin, your wobbly lip as you take in a deep breath, and the wet lashes that kiss his skin with every tear he wipes away.
“i’m sorry..” you break the worried silence between you when his eyes meet yours. “i just..”
his thumbs caress along your cheeks in a slow back and forth motion and though he’s steadying with every passing moment, there’s a tremble to his voice that’s laced with relief and lingering worry. “you have no reason to be sorry, my dear. the most important thing is that you are okay.”
nodding your head, your hand with the small scrape comes up to cradle one of his and your fingers wrap around his palm, needing no strength at all to bring it down to your belly. his long fingers splay over your bump, taking in the feeling of you under his palms as your face leans into his other hand.  “we’re both okay,” you assure him with a heartfelt smile and see the room behind him brighten in the unimpeded sunlight once more.
zhongli:
liyue was always so lovely this time of night, quiet but still with cheerful life, the lantern light shining through the streets in a warm yellow hue and even the sea seemed to settle in the moons presence with gentle crashes of waves along the harbor. you waddle along the path leading to the main entrance of the harbor from the inner city, yes waddling because you don’t know how else to describe the way your very pregnant body moves with each step. 
you can’t wait to show the baby in your belly this beautiful city, their home that was built by the hands of their father and kept by the people he entrusted with it now that his life is full of another kind of duty, dedicated to you and your growing family. and you know zhongli is just as ecstatic, already telling your baby of this world in the night when he kisses your round stomach and thanks you for giving him such a gift; your shared love and what wonderful miracles came with it.
if you could, you’d hasten your step to try to meet zhongli sooner. with him being at work all day, you were more than anxious to see him. now more than ever you had been partially needy for him, much to his pleasure because he couldn’t deny the more.. dragon-like tendencies your pregnancy had brought out in him. 
today was a rare one when he wasn’t able to make it home for lunch and had to work later than usual but you knew you could find him at the harbor when his office turned up empty in your impatience to be with him. you just hoped you wouldn’t be interrupting his work when you did find him.
doctor baizhu had expressed the importance of taking walks in your pregnancy but the further along you got, the more tiring that had became and today you think you’re finding your current limit. which looks to be a little more than halfway down the steps to the harbor with no railing to lean on. holding your belly with one hand, you take it one step at a time, both feet to a step before taking the next, every inhale deep and trying to keep you steady, calm.
you’re nearly to the bottom when you spot your husband's tall figure standing out amongst the people scattered around the harbor. for as human as he made this form, he stood out to you as the most beautiful among them, ethereal in a way that reminds you he is the lord of geo but more importantly nowadays, yours.
not wanting him to worry because all you really needed was a moment, you try to cover up your aching exhaustion with a smile and a wave when you feel his eyes on you and watch him turn towards you but in your fatigue and maybe even distraction of finally seeing him, you miss calculate your step and before you can try to think of what to do aside from protecting your belly, you feel the world tip in your descent down the steps.
he felt your presence, like the most precious of stones that hummed with the same beat of his heart, that had been searching for him, and as soon as you were within vision, his golden eyes were on you but he had hardly gotten a chance to take a step in your direction when you misstepped and the world slows as you fall.
the wood of the harbor groans at the sudden change in the earth below the water that shakes in a strained cry and the change of pressure in the air feels like celestia was trying to freeze time, stop anything from moving until zhongli commanded it to restart.
time didn’t stop but in a blink zhongli is kneeling on the steps with you in his arms, concrete digging into his mortal flesh but he doesn't feel it over what's coursing through his body. it wasn’t going to fix or do anything in this situation but a golden shield floats all around, blocking out the rest of the world, the eyes you know are on you but there’s only one pair you can focus on. 
zhonglis pupils are thin slits that you swear are trembling, the honey flecks of his eyes glowing with godly power that steals the air from your lungs. its as if he’s trying to look through your very being to be sure you’re okay but not having ability to see past the tears in your eyes and how tightly you hold onto your stomach. you’re shaking, or he is. you really can’t tell which, maybe it was the entirety of liyue but there’s nothing you can see or hear of the world outside the shield he has around you and the rapid heartbeats you share as one.
you’re definitely shaking. you can see it in your fingers that reach for his face, soothing over his cheek as you try to push past the sob you want to break out into and find your words. you needed to calm him down before this became more of a scene, before he really did bring down harbor.
“i’m not hurt,” there is only a dull ache where your body hit the steps but you were able to keep it all away from the baby. shaking up though- yes, far more than you want to admit. you have hardly ever seen him like this but you can feel that both you and your baby are unharmed physically and once zhongli called down, so could you. “i’m okay,” you tell him and you mean it despite the fact you can feel the tears escaping your eyes without your consent. it's happened far too many times to count during your pregnancy but right now you really need it to stop. “i’m okay zhongli,” you urge.
the pain behind his eyes seems to soften, as though he might share in your tears too but the tremble around you begins to feel like it belongs to only the two of you once more. good, he’s calming down.
you aren’t sure why that makes you lose your composure even more though. perhaps now that you knew he would be okay, you could finally let go of everything you held back. or now that everything was coming back to normal, you realize the scene you’ve made all over your own mistake. whatever it was, it felt like a flood overwhelming your every emotion.
biting your bottom lip, you try to stop it’s tremble as you cling onto your husband. you can’t be bothered with how pitiful you sound right now. “please take me home..”
without a word, in a whirl of golden smoke and a matter of moments, you’re in your bedroom, the familiar scent of your home filling your nose and helping to calm your uneasy breaths. his strides are steady and long as he makes his way to the bed, sitting on the edge with you cradled in his lap, crying into his shoulder.
“my lily,” his voice quivers but he holds you with strength and love and tenderness. “please take a breath.” a large hand smooths down your back, feeling you hiccup as you try to follow his own breaths. resting a palm on your belly, splaying long golden fingers over your bump, you feel the comfortable, anchoring weight of his forehead on yours. “i’ve got you.”
♡♡♡♡♡
genshin impact masterlist | main masterlist
914 notes · View notes
teamatsumu · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media
Gojo has a thing for biting.
He didn’t think he did. He has explored every kink known to man but biting just felt weird in the past. It never did anything for him, he just did it if a past partner asked.
That’s why he does it to you. He’s balls deep in your pussy, biting his lip at the feel of your warm, tight walls, when he sees your hazy eyes flash down to his lips. You lick your own and moan breathlessly before pulling him closer by his shoulders.
“Satoru,” you sound so sweet. “Bite me.”
He doesn’t think much of it, eyes moving down to your neck. But then, when you arch your torso and throw your head back, he is greeted with the sight of the corded, sweaty muscle in your neck, taut and defined. He eyes the graceful slope of your collarbone, is hit with the lovely scent of your flowery perfume, and he feels his mouth water.
It is on instinct, something primal that he can’t hold back, and his face is buried into your neck, teeth sinking into the flesh, soft at first, then harder when he hears your broken moan. He feels the way your cunt tightens around him, makes his hips stutter, and he speeds up, feeling his dick throb even harder. He moans into your neck, releasing the skin to look down at the red teeth marks freshly engraved into you, his own spit mingling with your sweat, and then he is surging forward again, right next to the previous bite, and biting down even harder.
He knows the marks are red only now, and that they will grow into a darker blue, maybe even purple, as time passes.
He cums harder than he has in his entire life, his teeth still digging hard into your flesh, and judging by how loud you wailed, and how you thrashed in his arms, and how your sweet cunt gushed all over his cock and his pelvis, he was willing to guarantee it was the same for you.
Good luck trying to keep his teeth off you from now on. Oh, and get some really good concealer.
Tumblr media
1K notes · View notes
momotonescreaming · 3 months
Text
STWG Daily Prompt: Date Night
“Does Thursday work?” Jeff asks, voice tinny and sort of muffled. Eddie can hear the sound of flipping pages, the creak of the plastic from the phone's speaker. 
“Shit, sorry dude.” Eddie says, looking at the loose pages of lined paper he's scribbled his schedule on. It works for him, and it's better than nothing. “That's date night.” 
A pause. For a moment, all Eddie can hear is the sound of Jeff breathing through the speaker. 
“Date night, huh?” Jeff eventually asks, and Eddie can hear the smarmy grin he's wearing. It's leaking into his voice, the absolute delight in it all. Just the right side of teasing, the bastard. He'd hate it, would snap and snarl and throw it all back if he wasn't also fucking delighted. 
He could say that now. He had a boyfriend, who holds his hands and kisses him and schedules date nights. He gets this. He gets to talk about it with his best friend. Can mention he has a date and doesn't have to hide the fact that it's with his boyfriend. He gets to share in the gentle ribbing for once. It's not just him on the outside looking in — as they tease Gareth for getting a date with a girl from his English class, or Jeff hitting his anniversary with his girlfriend. 
Eddie's been domesticated and he doesn't mind in the slightest. 
“Yes, it's date night,” Eddie retorts, trying to send as much faux malice down the phone as he can. He's smiling though, as he sits at the kitchen table, phone cord absently tangled through his fingers. “And Steve's been working hard planning it, so I will not be rescheduling.” 
“I didn't ask you to,” Jeff laughs, tone light. 
“Well good.” Eddie teases, wishing they were having this conversation in person so he could stick his tongue out. Really ham it up. 
Another pause, and Eddie uses the silence to flip through his papers, looking through all the events and dates and times he's scribbled out. Fuck, he really needs a calendar. 
“So?” Jeff prompts, drawing the word out. “Tell me about date night.” 
“You sound like your mother,” Eddie laughs, holding the phone in between his ear and his shoulder, pinning it there so he can free up his hands. So he can sort through his papers and fidget with the phone cord at the same time “Begging for gossip.” 
“You love my mother,” Jeff retorts — snappish — but it's obvious he's smiling. Laughing through it. “And you say that like you aren't gagging to talk about it. Come on.” 
“Okay fine,” Eddie relents. Sighing as he sinks into his chair, slouching, his socked feet skating across the floor. “You caught me.” 
“Not hard,” Jeff laughs. 
“Steve’s been talking a lot about wooing me lately,” Eddie starts, ignoring Jeff’s teasing. He finds himself smiling as he talks, creeping across his face uncontrollably. Fuck, the things Steve does to him. “As if he hasn’t wooed me already. So he’s planned this like, romantic dinner at home. Instead of going out to Enzo’s he wants to like, bring Enzo’s to us? Said he was going to treat me right. Have the fancy dinner I deserve, where we can play footsie under the table and hold hands without, y’know, worrying.”
By the end of his sentence Eddie’s feeling like he’s melting into his chair, insides melting into something soft and gooey. Pulling his hair across his face to hide his blush. Jeff can’t even see him, but he can’t help it. He wants to giggle and kick his feet. Jump and scream and flail around. It’s all building up inside him, this honey sweet affection. He doesn’t quite know what to do with it all. 
“He going to light candles? Have soft music playing in the background?” Jeff asks, teasing melting away into something softer. 
“Literally yes,” Eddie exclaims, dropping his hair and trying not to wiggle too much in his seat. “He’s so sweet, I’m going to throw up.”
“He’s good for you, man.” Jeff says simply, and it means a lot. That other people can see it — can know — just how happy Steve makes him. 
[Part Two]
848 notes · View notes