#do you think if i asked him REALLY nicely he'd let me hug him? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lunatic-pudge · 2 days

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Postal Dude NSFW Alphabet

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Was gonna work on my TF2 and Postal requests, but I've been sick and was in the ER cause of it. But depsite all of that, I'm still horrifically down bad for this stinky pissman. My need for this man cannot be contained. Halp

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A: Aftercare (What they're like after sex):

Admittingly, his aftercare kinda sucks. Just wipe ya off then pass out. It's just not something he's used to. You're gonna have to teach him how to do some proper aftercare. It'll take some time, but he'll get better at it with some time

B: Body Part (Their favorite body part of their and also their partners):

Now I'm putting my own (weird) biases here, Dude likes his hands. They're so long and spidery. Perfect to shove his fingers down your throat. He's such a long and gangly man.

Now his favorite body part on you would be your thighs. Thick thighs means a nice, fat ass and I can just tell that this man is an ass man. And also thigh highs?! The way they hug the thighs are there's that little thigh pudge at the top of the thigh highs. You know what I'm talking about. Dude lives for thick thighs. Choke them with your thighs, he'll die a happy man

C: Cum (Anything to do with cum, basically):

I'd like to think cums a lot. Please let me dream. Just picture him cumming in you so much that it spills out of you as more tries to fill in you. Maybe even creating a little tummy bulge.

But for taste wise, it is BITTER. Like it starts salty but gets bitter the more you taste it. So good luck with that. Man's good for stuffing ya, but the taste is one that will take a bit to get used to. Someone get this man on a better diet!

D: Dirty Secret (pretty self explanitory, a dirty secret of theirs):

I feel like he's secretly an exhibitionist. I just know that Dude would get off to people seeing him getting fucked. Hell, he'd probably let people run a train on him if given the opportunity. This man's a slut to the highest degree even though he gets no bitches

E: Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they're doing?):

I'd say he's got a decent amount of experience. Like, he definitely knows what he's doing. Could it be better? Yeah. Much of this man's potential has yet to be discovered

F: Favorite Position (This goes without saying):

Homie doesn't discriminate. Any position is a good position. You wanna ride him? Go for it. Want him to bend you over and pound the fuck out of you? He's already bending you over. He definitely loves being bent over, stuffed and fucked

G: Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous? etc.):

Has this man ever been serious? He's a chill boy. I don't really have much to say here. He's a goofy goober

H: Hair (How well groomed are they? Does the carpent match the drapes? etc.):

I'd say Dude's got a decent amount of hair. Definitely not hair, but not bare. And even then, it's light in color so it doesn't catch your attention at first. And he's kinda groomed. He'll keep up with it if asked

I: Intimacy (How are they during the moment? Romantic aspect):

Dude's not much of a romance person. But that doesn't mean he isn't trying. On special occasions, like anniversaries or your birthday, he'll put the effeort in. He'd be cheesy and break out the rose petals. How'd he get them? Don't worry about it. He's even broke out the candles as well, ignore the burn marks on his hands, his ass was not paying attention when lighting them and almost set the trailer on fire

J: Jack Off (Masturbation headcanons):

He does jack off, kinda often, but it's just never enough for him. He's tried all sorts of things but finds much more satisfaction being able to fuck someone. He gets irritable when he doesn't get needs fufilled

K: Kinks (One or more of their kinks):

I'm doing it. I'm going there. I don't care what you people say. He's got a piss kink. (So does Sniper but he's not apart of this, fight me) He will piss on you and he will have you piss on him. He'd be gross and try to drink your piss. He doesn't care. I'm a piss kink Dude truther

Another major kink I'll throw in here is pegging. He loves it when his lady put the strap-on on, bends him over, and makes him her bitch. Pegging makes Dude the most adorable little sub ever. Just a begging and moaning mess. You know you love it, don't deny it

L: Location (Favorite places to do the do):

Anywhere and everywhere. Just say the words and he's ready. Nothing will stop this horny man. NOTHING

M: Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going):

Your existence gets him going. You could be sitting around, reading a book or watching T.V. and that gets him hard. It's his inner simp showing. What really gets him going is seeing you wearing one of his shirts and nothing else. Especially when the shirt starts to ride up your thigh. It's like your teasing him without realizing

N: No (Something they wouldn't do, turn offs):

Now Dude is a pretty open guy, but of course he has limits. I'll just say that he's not into the really gross stuff. The only gross thing he likes is piss. Like, that's the only time you're gonna see this man at his most vile. Anything else gross and he'll start gagging and leaving

O: Oral (Preference is giving or recieving, skills, etc.):

Loves oral. Prefers to receive but will gladly give. Sit on his face. He's begging you to. But when you give him head, watch out cause if you don't stop him, he'll wanna fuck your face. He loves being able to stuff his cock down your throat

P: Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.):

Loves going fast and rough. He lives for it, especially when you mark him up during it. Rarely is slow and sensual. He'll be slow on thos rare intimate moments he has. But wither way, he will leave you a shaking, satisfied mess afterwards

Q: Quickie (Their opinion on quickies, how often, etc.):

Not the biggest fan but desperate times call for desperate measures. He tries to not partake in quickies often so when it does happen, he's so desperate to cum

R: Risk (Are they game to experiment? Do they take risks etc.):

Huge risk taker. The risk is what gets hims going. Always ready to take them. Bouns points if you're like him in that aspect. You two would be such an unstoppable force, for real for real

S: Stamina (How many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?):

He's got some pretty good stamina, especially when he's high on crack. He's practically insatiable. You two will be going at it for HOURS. Practically a whole day of sex so you better be prepared or you'll be a pile of dust afterwards. And yes, he will make fun of you for it.

T: Toys (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?):

Literally in the one scene in Brain Damaged when he's sitting on his couch, there's a fucking dildo on the floor. So obviously yes, he owns toys, and yes he uses them. And yes, he will use toys on you. Why wouldn't he? Using toys means extra fun, and Dude ain't gonna pass up such an opportunity to tease and overstimulate you

U: Unfair (How much do they like to tease?):

Such a teasing bastard, and a hypocrite. Loves to tease and make you beg, but can be stubborn at first when you try to same tactics on him. He knows how to press all the right buttons when teasing. He rightfully deserves to be treated back, but also a little more harsher for being such a little shit

V: Volume (How loud are they? What sounds they make? etc.):

I'd say Dude isn't the loudest, he prefers to hear you rather then himself. But that can easily be changed with a little pegging. Remeber, he's a hoe, so he is fun to make a moaning, whiny mess, just begging for more

W: Wild Card (A random headcanon for the character):

If it isn't obvious by now, this man is bi/pan. You cannot look at this man and say he's straight. It's just such a bold face lie. Homie likes his men, women, enbys, trans people equally. All he wants is a good time. I'd say he has a slight preference for more feminine people. But now by saying that, I'm thinking of femboy Dude and I'm more than here for that

X: X-Ray (Let's see whats going on under those clothes):

Now please bear with me here, cause I unfortunately don't have male anatomy. I'd say he's about six inches, cut, head's this nice little rosy pink color and SENSITIVE

Y: Yearning (How high is their sex drive):

Very high drive, constantly horny. He cannot be contained. Sometimes multiple rounds a day isn't enough for him. He understand that sometimes, you're not gonna be needy as him so he's used to having to take care of himself. Though he'd appreciate some help during these trying times

Z: Zzz (How quickly they fall asleep afterwards?):

Almost immediately after doing the do. That's probably why his aftercare sucks cause he's ready to pass the fuck out most of the time. Falls asleep like a man in the Victorian era dying from Influenza. He's practically clonked out like a dead man too. It's ridiculous and deserves to be bullied for it

#postal #postal dude #postal dude x reader #i seem to have a thing for tall lanky men that constantly piss #is that a good thing #probably not #i think this says a lot about me #and i don't think that's a good thing #oh well

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ashiiuou · 6 months

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he is everything to me...

#fnaf movie #do you think if i asked him REALLY nicely he'd let me hug him?#FNAF #FNAFmovie #spring bonnie #springtrap #springbonnie #william afton #screencap redraw #screenshot redraw #five nights at freddy's #dave miller #art #digital art #artists on tumblr #my art

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luveline · 5 months

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God bombshell x reid kills me I want them to just be together so bad but the slow burn is so good

Would you happen to have anything in mind for a situation where spencer starts to see that her feelings are genuine and he can envision actually being with her?

thanks for requesting my love! ♡ fem reader

Your arrival is marked by a bunch of different things. The smell of your perfume, the clack of your shoes. The clinking sound of your two tennis bracelets as you lift your hand, and the scratch of your fingernails in his hair. He shivers at the soft touch, worse as you lean down to talk in his ear. “Morning,” you say cheerily.

It's a quick ordeal. A swift scratch and you pull away.

You've done affectionate things like that before. Hugged him when you thought he needed it, kissed his cheek to say thanks. When he was in the hospital after Tobias, you held his hand the entire time. He's always thought you felt sorry for him —you've made it clear that you think the team could be better to him. If it weren't for you, he probably wouldn't believe it himself.

But something about your scratching rings a bell in his head.

It's just so… girlfriend-y.

He lifts his head from his desk to watch you walk to your own. Hotch won't abide you sitting together anymore on account of you letting him chat as much as he likes without chiding, but you're not far enough to escape his attention, either. Spencer's gaze follows your arms as you shrug from your jacket, and your neck as you lean back and let out a sigh.

He gets up.

“Did you sleep okay?” he asks worriedly.

“Slept just fine, honey,” you say, brushing down your blouse. “How about you? Headaches any better?”

“They're fine.”

You touch your cheek gently. “... What are you looking at me for?”

“Nothing,” he says quickly. When a rare insecurity flashes in your eyes, he adds, “You look really pretty today, that's all.”

“Oh.” Your lips perk into a big smile, charmed and charming. “Thank you, Spencer. You look handsome, too. Your hair’s growing.” You bring a hand to his face, not hesitant, but waiting permission, and when he lifts his chin a touch you rake your hand through the hair at the side of his head to tuck behind his ears. “What are you thinking? You'll grow it out again, or cut it short?”

He's probably gonna do whatever he thinks you'll like, and he's smart enough to guess. “Grow it out?”

Your delight is not subtle. “It's so soft. I love it. I love your curls.” You glance past him to the landing. “Hotch is looking at us. I'm gonna pretend I didn't see him.”

“L/N.”

“Or hear him.”

“Reid,” Hotch tries.

Spencer turns on the spot, baffled. You're told off often for flirting with him, but everyone jokes that Spencer is the unwitting party. Hotch gives him a reproachful look that seems to say, stop.

And the second bell rings. Not only does your affection go beyond the boundaries of a friendship, and act outside of playful teasing, Hotch sees it as a mutual partnership. As an equal back and forth.

Well fine. If this is real, and he's apparently going to get in trouble for things now, he has to just– just do it, right? “Did you hear that?” he asks, laying the mock confusion on thick.

Your laughter is immediate, loud and sudden and beautiful. You grab his arm and hide your head as though that might obscure the sound of your giggling, your perfume like a wave that hits him smack in the chest. He grins down at you, hand flying automatically to your shoulder.

A boyfriend-y touch, he'd say.

Spencer could be your boyfriend. He could. You press your forehead to his chest to ride out your laughing and he can see the two of you together, not just a silly daydream but the real thing.

“Don't be mad,” you're saying as you lift your head, your hand spreading over his arm, familiar in its gentleness. “Hotch, come on! I didn't see him at all this weekend, and he looks so nice today. You know he looks nice today, give me a break.”

Your voice is shaped by your fondness for him, for Hotch, too, and stretched like a sheet of silk. Spencer doesn't think he could want you more.

“I'm furious,” Hotch says plainly. “I want to see you both in my office. Preferably now.”

You wait for him to go back into his office before giving Spencer a small, sorry smile. “My bad, handsome. That one's on me. Take you out to lunch to make up for it?”

“How about I take you out to lunch?” he asks.

“But you didn't do anything.”

“Is that true?” he asks, giving you a nudge. “Come on. He's gonna yell at us about last Thursday's paperwork, you know, the Kentucky stuff.”

Your eyes widen and your lips part, but you recover, sewing your arm through his as you lament, “Noooo, I forgot about that. He's gonna fry us alive.”

You don't sound particularly upset.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

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norrisleclercf1 · 5 months

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hi an lando x reader please where he always pretends to propose but never really does and some day he really does❤️

A/N: He's a little shit who'd totally do this, but also I think he'd do this to trick you for when he does the actually one.

'23 British GP

You couldn't help but jump up and down as Lando approaches you. "Oh my god!" You cried, running towards him.

Lando laughs happily and drops his stuff, thankful that Jon is carrying the trophy. Jumping forward, Lando happily takes you into his arms. "Oh, so proud of you." You whisper, not caring your shirt is soaked in champagne.

Lando sets you down and pulls back. He couldn't find the words to convey the emotions running rampant in his head and chest. "Lando, just," You take a breath and he smirks, getting a brilliant idea.

"Y/n," He move getting down on one knee, a small scream leaves your lips as you try to wrap your brain around what he was about to do. "Will you," "Wait!" You cry shaking your head and his smile drops. "I was going to ask if you could help me carry my stuff." He stands back up holding out his helmet.

"Oh," You yank the helmet out of his hands and cradle it to your chest. "What? Did you think," "No," You snap and rush off towards the back as he smirks and follows after you.

'23 Hungarian GP

It was a gentle but romantic night walking around the gorgeous city of Budapest. It was your 3 year anniversary, Lando dressed nicely in an all black outfit with you wearing a matching dress but with one of Lando's jackets on you.

"Budapest is pretty," You whisper, resting your head on his shoulder that has him kissing your temple. "I prefer staring at you," Wrinkling your nose he laughs seeing your reaction.

"It's been 3 years," He admits, crazy how much time has passed between the two of you. "Mhm," Cuddling closer to him, Lando stops and stares at you. Turning you raise an eyebrow, confused as to why he stopped. "You know I love you right?" Lando steps back and gets down on one knee.

Covering your mouth, you try hard not to cry as he stares up at you. "I love you," You gasp, standing up straight now and he leans over and fixes the shoelace of his dress shoe and stands right back up.

"Good, let's get to our reservation." He tries hard not to laugh at your deadpan face as he leads you to the restaurant.

'23 Singapore GP

You knew how special this podium was to him. Not only did he fight like hell to keep the Mercedes back, but he also got a podium with one of his best friends and old teammate. Something they used to talk about all the time.

Carlos noticing you, runs over and hugs you tightly, kissing your cheek as the McLaren crew slaps his shoulders and screams loudly. "Lando, behind me!" He yells and soon turns hugging Charles.

"Lando!" The crew yells and your boyfriend run over but stops seeing Carlos. They both hold their arms out before hugging one another. Laughing you watch as his eyes connect with yours.

Letting Carlos go, he runs over telling Adam he got another podium before ripping his helmet off and pulls you in for a kiss. "Marry me!" He yells, but you can't hear anything over the Ferrari and McLaren crew. "What?" Lando's smile grows as he leans in. "I said, I love you." Pulling back as he gets pulled away for the post race interview.

Winter Break

Your friends were over hearing about Lando's joking proposals and how you really did want a real one. It was bugging you, hating how he was taking it as a joke when you wanted to spend the rest of your lives together.

Sigh, you tap your foot as you let the elevator take you up to Lando and yours shared apartment. Lando and you were getting ready to go skiing with some friends, so you were coming back from shopping.

The doors ding open and you head to the front door. "Babe, home." You call and haul your bags through the door. "Lando?" You call, getting annoyed when he doesn't answer you.

"Lando!" You yell, and drop your bags and turn, freezing. Lando was surrounded by candles and rose petals as he was down on one knee holding a ring. "Lando," You choke on your words covering your mouth.

"I know you've thought the last 3 times were for real, but this time it is. I kept thinking what you would want when this came time for it. And I realized that, it just being the two of us and small gesture would be perfect, so," Lando takes a deep breath.

"Y/n L/n, will you marry me?" You don't even pay attention to the ring as you fling yourself into his arms crying as you nod your head in agreement. "Yes, fuck yes." Lando laughs and places the ring down as he holds you close.

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ghouljams · 5 months

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Let Me Keep You(Here's My Name, Burden Me) Rating: Explicit (MDNI) Word Count: 4k Tags: John Price x f!oc/reader, first time, fluff, virginity loss, dirty talk, oral (f!receiving), piv sex, minor breeding kink, confessions, fae au, witch!reader Summary: "When I fuck you," Price breathes, brushes his lips against yours, "and I will fuck you, Sweetheart," he assures you, "I want it to mean something.” That was months ago, months of wondering when he'd finally decide you meant something. Well, the dam can't hold forever, and when it breaks it's not courage that parts your lips.

“What was that perfume you were wearin’ when we first met?” Price asks you out of the blue. You glance up from your cauldron in time for a cloud of purple smoke to belch out of one of the oil slick bubbles.

“I don’t know,” You really don’t. You don’t even know if it was a perfume, or if it was a combination of herbs you’d been working with. You stir your potion thoughtfully. “If you could describe it,” You decide, “I might be able to tell you.”

Price hums, he does that when he thinks, it’s terribly charming. You like how he fills your space with noise. Both of you know that he’s as silent as fresh snow, but for you he’s as loud as an elephant. It’s comforting, in some strange little way, always being able to hear him near you. It’s harder to be alone. Clearly. You- Logically you know he’s there, but it’s- you shake the thought from your head, no sense tainting your potion with ill advised sorrows.

“Like dry grass on a warm day,” Vetiver you note, “and honey without the sweetness.” Citrus, potentially, wildflower likely. You tick mental boxes, sorting through your mental catalog. What were you shopping for that day? Were you killing time on a spell?

“Anything else?” You ask over your shoulder.

“Summer, but that was probably from-” you hear the rustle of fabric as he waves his hand behind you.

“From the garden,” you finish with a smile.

“Smelled expensive, dark, like that red dress you’ve got,” he leans back in his chair and you hear his heels tap against the wood of your kitchen table as he kicks them up, “Should wear that for me some time, hugs ya’ in the prettiest places.”

“The perfume, darling.” You remind him, and he clicks his tongue.

“Keep callin’ me that sweetheart, and you won’t remember either.” He smiles when you glance at him, arms crossed over his broad chest. The relaxed posture shows off his arms well, his sleeves wrapped tight around his thick biceps. Temptation in a man. You have to stop letting him in when you’re trying to work.

“Why are you asking about my perfume?” You redirect the conversation. You doubt Price has suddenly taken an interest in aromachology, and you doubt he’s looking to buy you a gift considering all his are magic related.

“I want you to wear it tonight,” He replies plainly.

“Are we doing something tonight?” You don’t think you’ve forgotten anything. No date night on your calendar for tonight, no holiday or witches gathering.

“I’m goin’ to fuck you.”

Your potion explodes. You cough and sputter against the smoke, the pink dazzle of failed intentions attempting to choke you as your entire body bursts with heat. Price snaps his fingers and the smoke is sucked out your garden door like a vacuum.The mixture is still bubbling in your pot, though now it simmers at a nice vibrant red. A love potion instead of a protection potion. You’ll have to start over.

“That’s hardly romantic,” You tell Price, because you have no idea how to respond in a way that doesn’t scream “I’m a virgin.” Price spins you to face him, silent in his movements, and draws up the apron around your waist to wipe off your face. You’re sure you’re a sight, covered in pink and barely able to look at him.

“I’m givin’ you time to say no,” He explains, patiently. You take your apron from him and finish scrubbing your cheeks.

“I can’t say no during?” You joke. Price settles his hand on the counter behind you and leans close.

“You can, but you won’t want to.” Another burst of heat courses through you at how serious he sounds. You swat him away to clean up your potion. You don’t think you’ll be able to get any magic done today.

Price monopolizes your day. Monopolizes your thoughts anyway. You can’t concentrate on any of your spells, your workspace tainted with him. He drips into every corner of your home, his smoke filling the cracks and crevices. You’ll have to cleanse the whole space the next time you want to do anything.

He’s quiet too, which is the worst part. It makes you nervous, like he might be rethinking. Yet each time you turn to look at him he’s staring at you, his eyes warm and full of open affection. You can’t look at him for long, and you always turn away with your cheeks burning. The way he looks at you, like you’re the missing piece he’s been looking for…

“You’re staring,” You tell him, after dinner, you mean it to be chastising.

“Am I?”

“It’s distracting.”

“Do you want me to stop?” He almost could pass as concerned, if it weren’t for the crooked smile, the slight smirk that says he wouldn’t even if you asked. Truthfully you don’t want him to stop, you like the way he looks at you.

“When are we going to-” You wave a hand, feigning nonchalance. He catches it and kisses your knuckles.

“Whenever you want,” He smiles more genuinely, his eyes crinkling at the edges, “Just say the word sweetheart.”

You shed your skirt on the way into the bedroom, his fingers tug down the zipper as you walk, and you’re more than happy just stepping out of it. Happier still when Price hauls you up and drops you on the bed. He crawls over you and you cup his face to kiss him. Each slick slide of his lips against yours makes heat pool in your stomach, something warm and anticipatory taking hold as he breaks away to slide down your body.

Price kisses your stomach, laves his tongue against the soft skin and sucks appreciatively. His beard tickles, and you squirm without meaning to. He explores the exposed skin with his mouth, his hands sliding your shirt up to give himself more room. There’s something reverent in the way he moves you, helps you tug your jumper off and smooths his rough hands over you. His hands knead your breasts through your bra, kissing them where they push against the fabric. His eyes meet yours as he does, and you bite down a smile.

“Take it off,” he orders, sitting back to give you room. You sit up and fiddle with the hooks in the back while he strips his shirt off. You get a little distracted by the broad well muscled expanse of his chest, the dark hair. He pushes you back down against the bed, a finger hooked in the front of your bra to pull it off as you fall. He’s rather good at this, you think before he’s kissing you again. His hands cup your breasts, thumbs rolling over your nipples. You press into his hold, feel his tongue slide against your lips, and open your mouth to suck on it. He pushes his hips against yours, the fabric of his pants making you feel all the more naked under him.

You want to feel him, really feel him.

His hand disappears, fabric rustles and Price lets out a breath. You glance down to see he’s taken his pants off, his hard cock standing proud against the swirls of hair that trail up his stomach. You snap your eyes back to his face, and his brows raise.

“See somethin’ you like?” He smiles, and you shrink down against the bed. Very much so, but you don’t want to stare. “Plenty of time for that later,” He tells you, “For now-” He sits back, tugs your panties down. He follows their journey down one leg, kissing your thigh, knee, your ankle, until he can toss them to the floor. Then his attention falls heavily onto you.

He presses your hips more firmly against the bed, holds them hard enough to bruise, and you watch the rise and fall of his chest as he stares between your legs. The usual ice of his eyes has been swallowed by the deep hungry black of his pupils. It makes you squirm to be under such a heady inspection. His brows twitch, his head tips, the slight movement making you twist your fingers in the bed sheets.

"Fuck," he groans, before snarling, "fuck." He falls into you, his hands gripping your thighs and pulling them up over his shoulders as he buries his face against your cunt. His tongue licks a broad stripe over you and you jerk against his hold, a nervous giggle falling unbidden from your lips. You've never done this before but you probably shouldn't be laughing.

"Wait, Price," you try, your fingers shake as you press them against his hairline, threading them through the short brown strands. He growls, glares at you, like a dog trying to protect its bone. Your breath hitches.

His tongue prods at your clit, rolling over it with firm strokes. It's wet, warm, and well practiced. It sparks in your stomach, making it jump as you shiver and tighten your grip on his hair. His fingers only hold you more firmly, anticipating every squirming movement of your hips as his tongue wiggles against you. You whine, press the back of your free hand against your lips and try to stifle the noises he draws from you. Though he doesn't seem to be doing the same.

Every low groan and slurp at your leaking cunt sends another shock of heat through you. You whimper when he sucks at your clit and he responds in kind.

"Good girl sweethear', taste so fuckin' good." Your cheeks burn, at the gravel in his voice. Your head feels hot and your body feels tight. His tongue presses into you, licks over you, like he's starving for it. He laughs when you buck your hips against his mouth, a deep throaty chuckle that doesn't help the heat in your face, "Knew you'd squirm."

You swallow, press your hand a little more firmly to your lips. Price lifts his head enough to let you watch his tongue flick against your clit, his eyes trained on the jump of your stomach, all the soft parts of you he likes best, absolutely burning for him. "Squirm for me baby," he tells you, amusement clear in his voice, "show me how much you like it."

You twist in his hold when he lowers his mouth back down to suck on your clit. You try to, at least. He's strong enough to keep you in place, almost like you hadn't moved at all. It's cruel really. You try a different approach, grinding your hips with the movement of his tongue. He allows it, guides your hips with firm hands, his nose grinding against your clit as his tongue presses into you.

You whine, short and high, your fingers tugging at his hair as you arch your back. Everything feels so tight between your legs, so slick and warm. Price’s tongue twists against your cunt, pushes in and out of you in a maddening dance. He presses sucking kisses to your folds, lapping up every drop of your slick with deep satisfied groans.

“God,” He growls against your cunt, drunk on you, “could eat you whole-” He hums, and you squirm as the sound vibrates around your clit, “-doing so good for me.” You nod, every inch of you blazing, you’re sure you must be a sight for him. “So good,” He mumbles. He sucks at your clit, the pressure tugging at the swollen nub released only to be started all over again. One of his thick fingers presses into you and your breath hitches.

“Price,” You tug at his hair to get his attention, your hips raising with tense tingly pleasure as he curls his finger against your gooey walls. He strokes inside your cunt firm and delicate, hardly listening to you. Your legs shake, on either side of his head.

“You gonna cum sweetheart?” The low timber of his voice makes goosebumps rush over you. You nod, mutely, and he wiggles a second finger in beside the first. “I know,” he coos, “I know baby, can feel it.” His fingers pump in and out of you, hitting something that makes your stomach jump and clench. “Go on,” He tells you, “cum on my tongue, give it to me, hard as you can.”

The tight heat breaks into desperate trembling, your stomach jumping as you squeeze his head between your thighs and try to wriggle away from the constant rolling pleasure of his tongue. You moan, rock your hips against his mouth, squeezing and pulling him as close as you can. Fuck do you want to get away or stay like this? You don’t know. It’s too much and not enough. You can feel your body fluttering, clenching on his fingers greedily. Price’s groans are desperate, hungry, indulgent, his eyes hot as they watch you fall apart.

Your cunt sucks at his fingers, trying to draw them in further, clench on them tighter. He keeps stroking that soft spot inside of you as his tongue laps up the slick that pools around them. His mouth is sinful, sweet torture that doesn’t stop even after you’ve cum. His beard scratches your thighs, smears your wetness over them as he kisses the soft skin. His fingers don’t leave you, even when his mouth does, they keep stretching you out, toying with your cunt. You shake and shiver for him, unsure what to do with yourself as he watches you.

“Could drive a man mad, lookin’ at ‘im like that,” He tells you, kissing your bent knee. You tug at the blankets, press your hips down against his fingers. Price hums, thinking, his eyes rake over you as he leans close. “Stick out your tongue baby,” He murmurs, and you do without fuss. You open your mouth and stick your tongue out, closing your eyes when his tongue presses against it, licking over the wet muscle with firm strokes before sucking it into his mouth. You do your best to keep up. The way he kisses you, dips his tongue into your open mouth, feels dirty, makes your head spin.

You whine against his lips when his thumb rubs against your clit. The calloused digit pressing firm against your sensitive bud, as he pulls back to watch his spit drip into your mouth. You swallow it all too eagerly, and pant against his lips. You grip his shoulders as he dips down to suck at your neck, your voice soft and high, pleading, in his ear. You need something to hold onto as he sparks pleasure up your spine. You’re just starting to shake again when he pulls his fingers from your dripping cunt.

You grab for his wrist to put it back, you’re warm and throbbing, and you’re so close. He just stares at you, chuckles a little when he grabs your wrist and brings it to his lips. Price sits back, holds your hand with slick soaked fingers, and grabs his cock around the base. You suck in a breath at the size of it. It looks so long and thick, is that really going to fit inside of you? Did he stretch you enough?

“Look at that, mm,” Price sighs, rubbing the tip of his cock through your wet folds, “pretty little pussy.” He feels bigger than he looks, the head of his cock just catching at your entrance with each stroke. It bumps against your clit, mixing pre-cum with your slick. You watch him move, watch the way his cock drools against you, with libidinous eyes. You chew on the inside of your cheek, raising your hips to try and convince him to fuck you already. He hums, his smile, his eyes flicking to meet yours, all too hot for a man from Winter.

“Beg for it,” He tells you, “You want this cock, I wanna hear you beg.”

You want to, you want to beg so badly, but you feel like all the words have left you feeling him twitch against you. You let out a shaky breath and give him the only word you have left. “Please,” you shudder, “Please, plea-”

He presses against your entrance, the fat head of his cock slipping inside, and you gasp. Price murmurs something to you that you don’t catch, too focused on the roll of his hips as he eases his cock into you. Your eyes roll a little, breath uneven as his girthy cock stretches you out. The burn of it is sinful, absolute bliss, and you feel yourself run a little hotter with each thick inch. There’s so much of him, and you’re so full already.

He stops, his breaths ragged, releases your hand to grip the backs of your thighs and press them up against your chest. The new angle forces Price’s cock deeper, letting the veins of it drag against that squishy soft spot in you. You squeak, and he shushes you. “Needed a better-” Price groans, “fuck sweetheart, you’re so tight, such a good girl.” He eases another inch into you, you try to raise your hips and find yourself pinned under his weight. “Just a bit more baby,” He drags his lips against your gasping mouth, “you can take it, know you can.”

You don’t know if that’s true, when his hips finally settle against your ass you’re shaking with the effort of keeping still for him. He lets out a sigh, smoke dripping down over you, filling your lungs the way his cock fills your cunt. It makes you a little dizzy, dizzy enough you don’t notice he’s pulling out until he snaps his hips and fills you again in one clean motion. Then that’s all you feel.

The maddening drag of his cock against your gummy walls, all slick friction and heat that pulses through you, makes you gasp and whine. Pretty sounds just for him, just for the way his hips smack against you. He hits some impossibly deep part of you, and doesn’t stop hitting it. Each thrust winds you tighter and tighter, makes you clench and drip around his cock.

He releases his hold on your legs, lets you wrap them around his waist as he settles comfortably over you. His lips drag along your jaw, the scratch of his beard making you tip your head. He’s so warm, or maybe he’s reflecting your own heat back to you. Either way you feel wrapped up in him. His smoke, his mouth, his cock. Fuck, his cock.

"Be a good girl and play with that clit, rub it real nice for me," Price mumbles, you whine and reach between you to rub yourself, "there you go sweetheart, clenchin' on me so well." You can feel him thrusting into you like this, grazing your fingers against his cock as you rub tight circles. Everything is hot and wet. Your stomach clenches as he pushes in deep. Each drag of his thick cock is a delicious build on the already tight heat coiling in you.

"I- mm," You squeeze your eyes shut, tip your head back as your back arches. You've never felt anything this good.

"No, no, eyes open sweetheart," He coaxes, his hands hold your face, tip your head forward, "Want you to look at me."

You don't want to, it feels easier to keep them closed, but you want to be good for him. Every time he praises you it feels like your skin gets a little hotter, and it's so- you always thought you were good at taking compliments, but the way he says them, so low and filthy, makes you want to stutter like a nervous little girl. He doesn't stop fucking you, but he does slow down, gives you a small reprieve to open your eyes in. When you do, you're immediately treated to his smile.

"Don't look away, unless you're looking at-" he tips your head forwards so you can look between you at where his cock pushes into you, "-that." He groans as your breath hitches, eyes fixed on the fluid motion of his hips. You clench around the stretch of his thick cock. You can see the dark curls at the base wet with your slick, the muscles of his thighs moving, the bruises he's left on your hips.

Your legs curl towards your chest again, shaking, the feeling of his cock pounding into you suddenly too much all at once. You bite your lip to keep quiet, as your orgasm breaks over you. Wet heat slapping slick noise to the pump of Price's cock, and snapping over your spine as you arch your back. You've trained yourself so well you don't even notice you're biting down your moans.

"Speak," Price commands and you can't help the tumble of noise that falls from you as your mouth opens. Soft swears and pleas and his name like a prayer, over and over. He groans, catches your desperate mouth with his own and fucks you. His full balls knock against your ass as his hips piston into you.

"Price, God, Price," you whimper, clawing at his back. His cock hits you so deep at this angle, your toes pointing as he keeps you full of him.

"John," he whispers, kissing into your vernacular. John. You breathe his name in. You knew it. John the conqueror, the morning's glory, the Highest exalted, remover of obstacles, dominator of will. Yours to be known.

"John," you sigh. Yours to keep, but never use. A shiver racks through him, you wonder how many times in his long life he's heard his name. He puts himself in your hands without asking for the same in return, but you want to give it to him. You want his admission to mean something. You whisper your name between kisses, feel the twitch of his cock as he rolls his hips against yours, the stutter in his breath. You love him, you love him, you love him.

It's real and terrifying and it strings between you so heavily you can't ignore it. He says your name, whispers it, and it’s like you’ve never heard it before. You shake, shiver with sensitivity as you feel hot cum flood your cunt. Price’s hips don’t stop, fucking his thick seed deep into you with a low groan. Fuck you could cum again just feeling him wiggle his hips against your poor cunt, like he’s trying to make sure it all stays in.

He sighs, more smoke pouring from his lips before he can kiss you. Sweeter this time, but no cleaner. You push your tongue against his, arching your back to press up into his chest, feel the click of your teeth when you press a little too close. Desperate, you’re so desperate for him. How could you ever not be? You could go again, you want to go again. He chuckles against your lips, and you do your best to swallow the sound.

“Easy,” He tells you, the low timber of his voice rumbling through you, “we’ve got all night.”

You wake up heavy and warm. There’s a pleasant ache low in your back, and an arm slung over you. You close your eyes against the sunlight streaming in the window, and cuddle back against Price, put yourself in his hold without fear. There’s a weight in your chest that feels too important to touch, so you don’t. You can feel it though, as clearly as you feel Price stir behind you, feel him hook his leg over yours. It’s natural the way you fit together.

You wiggle, turn to face him. He doesn’t open his eyes, just waves his hand to make the curtains close and lets you cuddle close. You kiss his chest, listening to his heartbeat. You gave him your name, and you’re still here. Still breathing, still laying here with him. Easy as anything. This is real, you think, he’s real. He’s not going anywhere, he’s not using you for anything, he wanted this to mean something. It does mean something. He means something to you, something you didn’t have a word for until now. Funny how sex makes things so much clearer.

“I love you,” you whisper to him, sure he’s still sleeping.

“Marry me,” He whispers back, like he’d been hoping you’d say something.

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lipringlrh · 10 months

Text

look who's staring now | LN4

summary: your boyfriends so pretty whilst he sleeps, how could you not stare at him?

pairing: lando norris x genderneutral!reader

an: short and sweet. more dialogue than i'm use to so please do let me know how you find it!

word count: ~800

warnings: cuddly lando, (pretends to not be) cuddly reader, fluff

feedback appreciated!

...

It wasn't late at night but it wasn't exactly early either. Lando was asleep - completely knocked out, or so you thought - in your arms, on top of your chest. You were meant to be asleep but you just couldn't help but stare at your boyfriend. He looked so peaceful and relaxed with a small hint of a smile on his face, how could you not stare at him?

Lando had been drifting briefly in and out of sleep for a while but he didn't particularly mind. He'd gone to bed rather early and whenever he was awake, he was comforted by your arms. This time though, he felt compelled to actually open his eyes instead of just falling back asleep; he swore he could feel eyes on him and god forbid he miss a chance to tease you about it.

He was quick to open his eyes and meet yours, making sure there was no chance you could hide the fact that you'd been staring at him.

"Hi, baby," he whispered teasingly, his voice slightly croaky from sleep.

He caught you staring and you did not like it at all. Usually in the relationship, you weren't the touchy-feely one, as much as you wanted to be. You held back a lot, trying to be independent. Lando didn't really care and often became extra touchy enough for the both of you or so he liked to claim.

Along with this, you pretended to never be the lovey-dovey kind, always making Lando persuade you into hugs and cuddles. He knew it was just an act though, with you being happy to cuddle at any point of the day.

"You okay, sweetheart? Got a nice view or something?" He whispered, grabbing your hand and moving it to scratch his head. It was almost subconscious now, making you scratch his head, but you both secretly loved it.

You looked away from him, knowing he could tell you were flustered, another thing he would tease you with.

"I'm perfect me. Yeah - completely. You - how was your sleep going?" You asked, still turned away.

You took one glance at him and you knew instantly it made you seem more flustered. He was looking at you with a knowing gaze, spilling his thoughts of "I know what you're thinking, don't hide it.

"It's just really hot at the moment," you tried to justify, not ready to give yourself away just yet.

"Isn't that just me next to you, hmm?" He murmured, pressing short but sweet kisses to your chest.

You couldn't help but laugh lightly at him, "I'll just let you believe what you want to believe."

"Okay, baby," he smiled, moving his trail of kisses up to your cheek, "you do that. I know it's true,"

He left a peck on your lips just in time to cut off any reply you thought about giving, "I love you, sweetheart."

He couldn't express enough his feelings for you and it felt wrong to squash them down into three small words. But even with every word from every language, and telling you in every lifetime, he doesn't believe he'd ever get to convey it fully. You knew the feeling because it was the exact way you felt too.

"I love you too, Lan," you whispered, kissing him once more, "go back to sleep, before you get too big-headed though."

"Got to stop staring at me then, baby, could just feel it. I know I'm too sexy but-"

He was cut off by you lightly swatting him, then giggling to yourself. He couldn't help but watch, solely enamoured by you.

"Look who's staring now."

"It's 'cause I think you're beautiful and pretty and sexy," he gulped, not being able to describe you as well as you deserve.

"Yeah?"

"You gonna tell me I'm sexy now?" He looked up, wiggling his eyebrows slightly.

"You're really sexy, Lan, you should know that." You smiled at him, running your thumb across his cheek.

"So that's why you were staring at me whilst I'm asleep?" He titled his head, mocking you again in the way you both loved.

"Go back to bed."

"But-"

You cut his off, pressing your hand over his mouth, "Shush, bed."

You waited a moment before removing your hand.

"One last kiss please," he leaned up, almost pouting at you.

Of course, you had to comply, why would you not, and gave him many sweet pecks all over his face.

"I love you, Lando."

"I love you too angel," he promised, lowing his head back on top of your chest, smiling as your hand moved to his hair, and you both finally shut your eyes.

"Don't worry, your staring's cute."

f1 masterlist |

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strangersteddierthings · 1 year

Text

Shovel Talk(s) Part One

Part One 🦇Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Part Four

Steve and Eddie aren't even together when Steve gets the Shovel Talk from Eddie's uncle, but it is what tips Steve into talking to Eddie about his feelings, so he's not upset by it.

They aren't dating, not because he doesn't want Eddie, because he absolutely does. It's just that he wants to be sure Eddie wants him back. There are times when he's sure, when Eddie gets into his space a bit too close, or more often, than he does with anyone else. Eddie calls him a thousand and one nicknames, ranging from sweet to irritating but just when Steve thinks that's a perk left just for him, Eddie hands someone else a new nickname (just the one, a voice in Steve's head that sounds suspiciously like Robin says).

Not that any of that is the point. Wayne wouldn't bother to give Steve a shovel talk at all unless he knew how Eddie felt. Wayne is a man of action, and he's never done anything unless it mattered. Meant something. Steve and Wayne have sat in plenty of (what Steve considers to be) awkward silences because Wayne doesn't talk to fill the void of silence.

The point is, Steve drops Eddie off at the house the government so graciously bought for the Munsons, walks Eddie to the door and giving Eddie a hug goodbye. He stays on the porch until Eddie shuts the door and then nearly jumps out of his skin when he hears Wayne call out his name.

"Harrington," Wayne says from the shadows of the wrap around porch.

So, Steve jumps and it's only then he notices that Wayne is sitting at the table and chairs set up on the porch. "Mr. Munson, sir, hi. Hello."

Wayne lets out a chuckle, but it doesn't really sound amused. "I have come to accept that you are nothing like your father, boy, but I do want to make it clear to you, that Eddie means more to me than anything else on this Earth."

"I know, sir."

"I know you do. And while I will forever be grateful that you helped return him to me alive, know that I will not hesitate to make you disappear if you hurt my boy in a way he can't bounce back from."

Steve's not afraid of Wayne, not really, but that doesn't stop him from feeling the need to flee. He doesn't, though, because he'd gotten enough shovel talks from concerned parents in high school, and he knows they can sense weakness. "I can't promise I'd never hurt him, sir, but I can promise it'll never be intentional."

He can't actually see Wayne's face in the darkness but he feels sized up all the same.

"I believe that, Steve," Wayne says, and it's the first time Steve's ever heard his name leave the man's mouth, "now go home."

Wayne's shovel talk was expected. Robin's is not.

"You took Eddie on a date date?" She whispers it as though they aren't alone in Steve's living room. They're laying on the floor in a line, heads next to each other so if they turn slightly to the side they can make eye contact. Steve's not sure why they always end up on the floor for Serious Talk Time.

"Yeah," Steve says, looking away from Robin's face to stare up to the ceiling, "I mean, sorta? We can't like... be open that it was a date, but we went to dinner and a movie and it was nice. Shared a popcorn and played footsie under the diner table."

"Whoa," Robin says. "I never thought you'd- didn't think you'd be brave enough to ask him."

"Me either."

"Steve," Robin sounds serious, so Steve turns to look at her. She studies his face for a moment before she's the one to look away, speaks to the ceiling, "be careful with Eddie, yeah?"

"What? Careful how?"

"I just think you could really fuck him up," Robin says. "You're his first boyfriend, right? That's going to set a precedent for relationships that might happen if you two don't work out. And I hate to say this, because I know you've changed, but like, I saw how a lot of those girls you dated in high school ended up when you broke up with them."

Steve's a little hurt, because Robin's his best friend. She should be giving this talk to Eddie, not him. But, also, he understands. He knows that Robin knew about Eddie's sexuality before he did, knows they bonded over being queer while Steve was still figuring himself out.

Steve also knows that Eddie's never been in a relationship before, Eddie'd told him at much when Steve asked him out. Steve doesn't like that Robin implied that he and Eddie will eventually break up, but no matter how much that thought makes Steve's heart ache, he won't know if it'll happen unless it does.

He just doesn't understand why she seems to think he'll be the one breaking Eddie's heart. It could go the other way.

"Did you OD over there?" Robin asks, trying to lighten the mood.

"No," Steve answers, "I'll be careful."

They've been on four more dates before Nancy knocks on his door. She doesn't accept his invitation to come inside. Just starts speaking on his doorstep.

"As Eddie's Capital P Soulmate," is how she starts that sentence, and it makes something hurt deep inside Steve as he tries not to think about Robin, "I am obligated to remind you that I do own several guns now. And I don't miss."

"Jesus Christ," Steve says, because even Wayne was more subtle, "I got it."

"Good. I do know you'd never hurt him on purpose," Nancy says but Steve doesn't feel reassured.

He thinks that, if she really didn't think he's going to end up hurting Eddie she wouldn't have said anything at all. "Right."

"Well, good talk Steve," and then she's walking down the driveway and climbing into her car.

He closes the door and goes to the kitchen to get himself a beer, mostly so he has something to do besides stew in his emotions. He wonders if Eddie has been given the shovel talk, too? Maybe Robin did the same thing Nancy just did. Showed up unprompted, threatened Eddie with some sort of bodily harm, and then just left.

Steve grabs the phone and dials Eddie's number.

"Hello?" Eddie's voice greets him, albeit questioningly.

"Eddie, it's Steve."

"Oh, hello sweetheart," Eddie says, "are you calling for business or pleasure?"

Steve laughs, "business."

"Boo!"

"Listen, uh, I had a question. I just wanted to know if anyone's said anything to you. About us. Or, y'know, specifically about us and our relationship?"

"Uh, not really? A few congratulations, I guess. Why? Did someone say something?" Eddie's voice is level, almost too level, so Steve knows he's trying to keep cool.

"Oh, no! No! I mean, aside from the scary shovel talk from- Wayne, everyone's been surprisingly cool about it. Very supportive," Steve says and even though it's true, everyone they've told has been cool about it, it feels a little bit like a lie.

Eddie laughs, "I can't believe my uncle gave you a shovel talk! You know, I keep expecting to get one from Robin but so far nothing. She must think you're safe in my capable hands."

Steve is safe in Eddie's hand, he thinks, but that doesn't stop the sting that goes through him. "Of course, she does. You've been a perfect boyfriend."

There's a pause before Eddie's voice comes through the phone, soft and quiet, "I'm glad you said so. I want to be. For you."

"You're not allowed to say those kinds of things when you aren't within kissing distance, babe," Steve says, because if he doesn't add humor to this conversation, he's going to tell Eddie he loves him instead, and even Steve knows that saying that a month into dating is too soon, especially over the phone where he can't see Eddie's reaction.

Eddie laughs and makes kissing sounds at him before the conversation shifts to chatting about the day and making plans for the weekend.

Steve is trying really hard to not be the person he was in high school but every time he gets to the point where he's being a better person, someone brings up how he used to be. Shoves it back into his face that no matter what Steve does he can't outrun his past.

One such time is shortly after Steve and Eddie accidentally come out as a couple to all of Hellfire. Steve was just dropping off the boys and had stepped inside to chat a bit. Once game time had arrived it had and Steve made to leave, they'd (he and Eddie) had been on autopilot. Eddie'd whined 'where's my goodbye kiss?' and Steve had stepped over, kissed him goodbye, and was out the door before it had actually computed.

Steve had burst back through the door, rushing back to Eddie, because no way in Hell was he going to leave his boyfriend to deal with whatever the consequences would be alone.

It had been absolute chaos at the table with people shouting over each other.

"Of all the people you could be with, you picked Steve!? You could do better!" Mike had whined, and Steve had thought for sure he was the only one who had heard Mike until he saw Will punch his arm and hiss his own 'don't be a dick' at Mike.

It took almost half an hour to calm everyone down. It was a relief to know that Eddie had come out to his bandmates/the older Hellfire members already. The kids took it in stride, in the end, and Eddie had shoo'd Steve away.

Jeff had excused himself, too, and Steve thought he was just going to use the bathroom but instead he followed Steve outside.

Ah. Steve knows what's coming.

"Harrington," Jeff says, "can't say I'm excited that you're the secret boyfriend Eddie's constantly sighing wistfully about. I'm sure Wayne's already threatened you," And Robin, and Nancy, and Mike doesn't think he's good enough, "but if you hurt Eddie-"

"I get it! There will be dire consequences if I hurt Eddie," Steve snaps, not down for hearing it anymore. He stomps to his car and peels away from the curb without bothering to look back.

If he's being honest, Steve didn't even know he had a breaking point with shovel talks until he gets his fifth one from Dustin.

It's not even a shovel talk. It's just a single sentence, said almost a month after Dustin learned about their relationship. He's dropping Dustin off after their DnD game. Normally Claudia picks him up, but she's busy tonight and asked Steve to do it.

"Alright, Henderson, safely delivered."

"Thanks, Steve," Dustin says, unbuckles his seatbelt, and opens the door, before turning back to Steve. He just looks at him for a moment.

"What?"

"I'm happy for you and Eddie. Just, don't hurt him, ok?"

He nods his head but can't say anything. Dustin grabs his backpack, shoots him a smile, and climbs out. Steve does wait until Dustin closes the front door behind him before putting the car back in gear.

He manages to get home, somehow, because Steve doesn't fully remember the drive. It's not that his mind was so focused on something else that made him fail to take in his surroundings, but rather that his mind wasn't even a part of his body anymore.

One moment he was pulling away from the Henderson residence, and the next, he was home, just standing in his kitchen in the dark. And now that his thoughts are back, or easier to process, he finds himself wondering why everyone thinks that he's going to be the one to hurt Eddie.

How many people has he hurt that this is his reputation? Is it inevitable that he will hurt Eddie? Is it truly just a matter of time until he breaks Eddies heart? Why is everyone so convinced that he will?

Briefly the thought occurs to him that maybe he should call up Eddie and break up with him right now, before Eddie has a chance to get in deep enough that Steve could break his heart, but just the thought of it breaks Steve's heart, so he's not going to do that. Doesn't want to do that. That would just be punishing Eddie for something he didn't do.

None of this is Eddie's fault, and Steve's an asshole for even thinking of breaking up with him because of it. Which feeds him back into the loop of thinking that maybe everyone is right about him. He is an asshole and will someday hurt Eddie, perhaps even on purpose.

He loves Eddie. He's in love with Eddie. But does loving him mean proving his friends wrong? Or does it mean leaving him before they're proven right?

He wants to ask everyone why they think he'll hurt Eddie.

He wants to ask everyone why they don't care if he's the one that gets hurt.

#steddie #my fic #we like making steve a sad emotional mess right guys?#steve-centric #we gotta make the boy Sad so that his boyfriend can fix him #is that healthy? not IRL but this is fanfic and if i want Love to solve all the problems then im allowed to do that #only itll be in part two #that might get written one day #is steve putting words into his friends' mouths #yeah duh the boy needs therapy but its the 80s so hes not getting any

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focalove · 1 month

Text

Bathing with him

Cw! : gn!reader....... with some mentions of maybe f!/m!reader, mentions of d*ck, nothing too explicit. written before sunday & aven release!

Aventurine

✦ 01 bb come home the kids miss u :(

✦ 02 Though, by all means, Aventurine never or rarely reveal his ✦ bare naked self infront of anyone. So congratulations for achieving this level of intimacy with him

✦ 03 At first he'd be so cocky and teaseful when you asked him if you wanted to bath with him

✦ 04 "Oh? princess/prince-y here wants to bathe with me? well what's the occasion, or are you just that touch starved?" he snickered with a smirk of a devil in his face

✦ 05 I also think he'd also ask you to undress you to like "sweetie… I don't think I can take off my shirt… can you help me?" and he would be dangling his chest window area

✦ 06 and his pants too maybe, to show you his d---

✦ 07 anywayz, when both of you finally get in the bathtub, he'd be so shy

✦ 08 pls lead him!! princess needs his directions on how to do it correctly :<

Aventurine had a big bathroom. Big bathtub, a lot of space, fully furnished bathroom, a complete set of bath commodities. For you, it was like a dream bathroom. And there you are, sitting on the brims of the bathtub. The water tempeture was warm and the fragrance of the soap that had been mixed with the water was devine.

The door opened, revealing Aventurine in a towel around his waist. You can hear the footsteps behind you. An indication he's coming. "The water is set, you can get it in you'd like" you played with the water just a bit.

Aventurine put a hand onto your shoulder and gave you a kiss on the cheek "Mhm sure, arent you getting in honey?"

"I am, i am.. what, you need help with your towel?"

"Is that an offer, sweetheart?"

"…forget I said anything then" he snorted and smirked hearing your retort

As soon as both of you had done removing eachother's towels, both of you get in the bath tub.

Aventurine, gets in slowly, almost like as if he was scared to break the water itself. Adorable, really. To see a man who acts so smug and so sure of himself, express nervousness when he's just taking a bath with his one and only lover. You noticed his nervous behavior and you cant help but let out a light chuckle, "Scared much, Avey?".

In which he reply "Nonsense, lovely." however to contrast his words, he stammered on his words he spoke. It's not that noticeable, so he hopes you don't notice it.

yet ofcouse you would notice it and scooch over to him closer and give him a little kiss on his shoulder and snake an arm on the back of his waist. Just a way to tease him, just a bit.

He flinched slightly by your touch and scoffed "Devil much huh? oh sorry, I meant hell spawn." you laugh, "Not my fault that handsome here is so stiff. Come on, I'll wash your hair and you wash mine"

He let you do as you please with him. It felt oddly nice to have someone taking care of him for once in a lifetime. You do it so gently with him too, now how could he not feel at least slightly emotional when only such a few people have given him comfort and almost all of them have died? And now here you are, taking care of him like he's a stray cat.

He just can't help it but say

".... I'm glad I met you, I love you, sweetheart."

Jing Yuan

✦ 01 Big cat. Very big cat.

✦ 02 Big cat flop onto the bath tub

✦ 03 Big cat will ask u to wash his hair (uncertain he would do the same tho)

✦ 04 Will sleep if u take too long to shampoo his hair.

✦ 05 Cold water can do the trick to wake him up

✦ 06 Would probably pull you in a huge hug too.

When Jing Yuan got on the bathtub, it was almost as if he hogged all the space that were available. "Hey, how come I don't get a room?" You complained. Which he replies with a lazy smirk "you can just sit on my lap?"

An awkward pause fills up the room, and the longer the pause, the more contagious the little pink blush is on your cheeks which he just cannot help himself to laugh. "Well? Would you like to, dove?" In which you just let out a whine.

Eventually, you cave in and give into his whims. It's not like there's any other way to get in the bath tub without any of his body parts being touched by you. Now here you are, sitting on top of his lap, looking like a confused cat, don't know where to leap next.

It was a sight for sore eyes. You looked cute, now he can't help but let out a playful chuckle and bring you forward to him. "Why so stiff? Is it your first time seeing me stripped? I don't think so…" Worst part, he gave you his signature little lazy smile, looking like he has no wrongdoings.

"That's… Irrelevant, just let me do your hair, baobei." Hence, he let his head down and let you untie his ponytail, and do the rest

While you were washing his hair, his eyelids suddenly felt heavy. He couldn't help it, it felt so good to have your delicate yet skillful fingers all over his scalp. It just so happens that you were doing too great of your job.

"Baobei, it's done~!" You twisted his hair and stuck it into the top of his head. "Baobei?" You called him out again. No response.

Out of suspicion, you raise his head to show his sleeping face. Ah, in all of the places in the universe.. he just had to sleep at this moment, you thought. Abruptly, you had a really… Devious plan to wake him up.

Jing Yuan really just needed to rinse the shampoo away and he'd be done. But instead of using the warm water, just use the icy cold water to wake him up. And perhaps instead of using the shower, why not just pour a bucket full of it? That's exactly what you did.

Sure, it's quite literally deceitful, but at least it gets the job done. It's hard to wake up this big general, so a bucket of cold water could do.

You took a small bucket lying around the bathroom and filled it up with cold water. Little did you know, Jing Yuan was already awake when you were done with his hair.

You swear you didn't feel the water vibrations changing, but somehow, he's already in your shoulder while you were still not done filling the bucket.

"Mmnh… What are you doing my Qīn qīn? Not trying to splash me with the cold water aren't you?"

Drat. How did he even—

"No-no… O-ofcourse not.."

"Then what is it for, hm?"

"I…" You decided to give up from the act. Goddamnit, you were so close!

"you know what? yes, I was, now.. have a taste—!" You splashed the water into his face. Yet, no response. Not even a reaction, single flinch, nothing… Literally unfazed.

"Mhm, it takes more than that to even make me flinch, baobei dear."

Sunday

✦ 01 Asking to bath with Sunday isn't really that hard... But he would reassure you if you want to do it, it's a very intimate action to bathe with one another.

✦ 02 But bathing with Sunday is like bathing with an angel in a cloud

✦ 03 He'd be so soft, delicate. As if scared to even hurt you, make a wrong move.

✦ 04 Though, as delicate as he can be, he expects you to do the same.

✦ 05 He would let you wash his wings, but be gentle with them!

✦ 06 Once again, his touch is so gentle. Like imagine him washing your face with his thumbs just circling your cheeks

"Dear, turn your head downwards for me please?" He asked. Your boyfriend, Sunday, couldn't have been more gentler. He's washing your hair and your whole body with firm yet gentle strokes. You did as he asked and turned your head downwards. "Good girl/boy..." and thus felt the warm water wash away all the foam that covered your entire frame.

"Mm... Shouldn't I be the one praising you, angel?" He let out a silent chuckle "And who's being the obedient one here, hm?" It was a somewhat convenient playful banter between the two of you. Convincing the other that they're better.

Once you're done, Sunday gave one last splash of water to your hair and scrub off any remaining shampoo or soap that still be sticking around. "There, all done." He gave a wet kiss on the forehead. Which you unintentionally let out a giggle. "Hey this isn't fair, can't I bathe you too?" You note, it was true, all this time who's getting the royalty treatment is just you. "Do you want to? If so you could do that.."

An unanticipated idea came up from your oh so brilliant head "How about I wash your wings?"

"..." He hesitated just a bit. If truth be told, he was quite... Anxious to lend you his wings. Just what if you accidentally pulled one of the feathers? "How about my.. body, dear? My hair?" He recommended

"I mean— sure.. but can I wash your wings? Pleasee?" You insisted and pleaded. You even crawled your way to his chest, he felt compelled to kiss that face of yours and hug you tight. Just how can he reject you? "Fine, fine... But be extremely gentle." He sighed.

You started on with his right wing. Once you've held it, the wing flinches by accident. You poured the soap into your hand and started caressing the tip of his wing, cleaning all the dirt or dust that was there. "Does this hurt, sunday?" Through which he denies "no, absolutely not, darling. You're doing great" and purred as you do his wings

As you did the other wing, he kept purring like a pigeon being petted. Perhaps it was to imply that he was very enjoying this.

"Enjoying this much, love?"

"Very" he cood "oh, and thank you, I love you darling.." you giggled in response as you rinse both of his wings "I love you too."

✧ XTRA : i fking gentlemenfied sunday dawg :sob: also this was vv rushed, thats why it keeps getting shorter from aven to sunday (Aven is 430 words n sunday is 400 words) but oddly enough jy is 560 words💀 cringed so bad in jy's part tho like i speedrun that shit & gonna write guitarist bf kazuha after this

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angelltheninth · 8 months

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Hellow i would like to ask for a scenario with the hsr men (separately) in which they are at the beach with female reader and while she is tanning herself and laying on her belly she took off her bikini top since she doesn’t want a white line on her back..but she forgot that she took it off and got up and accidentally flashed them men and the rest u can make up..it can be sfw or nsfw.

(That happened to me today at the beach and i wanted to ✨perish✨)

Oh my god I am so sorry. I'm getting second hand embarrassment, I can't imagine what that was like for you. At least you're able to find some humor in it now, or hopefully you will soon.

Pairing: Blade, Dan Heng, Gepard, Jing Yuan, Luocha, Sampo, Welt x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, suggestive, beach day, teasing, massage, bikini, accidental exposure, protectiveness

A/N: This is kind of why I always wear those almost like sporty/training two piece swimsuits. They never slip off.

Blade takes the opportunity to stare before he remembers that it's not just the two of you at the beach. As much as he likes your boobs he doesn't want other people looking at them. His reaction is to put himself in between you and any onlookers, that way he still gets to enjoy the view and everyone else who passes by has nothing to look at.

Dan Heng blinks a few times and asks you if this is intentional. If you wanted him to see you naked you could have done it in a more private setting. When he sees the way you're covering yourself up with you hands he realizes you made a mistake and calmly hands you the top part of your bikini. He can see that you're flustered and embaressed but you don't have to be, you're the prettiest one here.

Gepard offers to give you a well earned massage, as long as you're laying down like that he might as well. He didn't think you'd get up as soon as he moved his hands and that he'd get an eyeful of titty. He panics and hugs you close, not realizing that this will push your chest against his. He's almost more flustered by this then you are, and to his embarrassment his excitement is a lot more obvious.

Jing Yuan looks at you, almost like he's inspecting you for something before he cheekily hands you the towel he's been sitting on. He kisses you, thank you for the wonderful sight. But as soon as you have the towel on he offers to take you back the room you rented. If you still want to get some sun on your skin he has no problem doing it with the windows open, you're pretty high up anyway, no one's gonna see.

Luocha frantically starts looking for the top of your bikini to cover you up. It does look nice but right now he would really rather see you with it then without. Maybe if you were in private but not on a crowded beach where others can also see you. How about he massages some oils into your skin, that way you won't burn up and it will get his mind off what he just saw.

Sampo would normally be the type to prank you by dangling the bikini just out of reach but right now he will use those same skills to expertly tie it back around you before anyone sees you half naked. Yes, he has very skilled hands as you well know, that doesn't mean he'll always use them to get something off you. This time at least, but it was a pretty view.

Welt in his haste ends up cupping your boobs and making you yelp, attracting even more eyes then there already were. Thinking fast he pulls you close and lays on his back, keeping you there and kissing the top of your head as an apology. You can lay on his chest for a little bit longer, and with his arms around you there's no worry that you'll push upwards and let people see you half-naked.

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sgtgarricks · 2 months

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afab!reader

i think john price would be sooo incredibly oblivious to your advances to the point it pisses you off.

imagine you've had a crush on your captain for a few months now, you've dug around information and find out that yes, he is single.

so you get to work.

you smile at him whenever you see him (the only other person you usually smile at is soap). you try to stay later than usual to catch him leaving just so you can have a few minutes of extra conversation with him.

you're kind of touchy (but not too much), brushing your fingers with him whenever you get the chance. whenever you get called into his office, you make sure to crack a joke or two, just to see his eyes crinkle.

you were down bad for him. like, really bad. whenever he even slightly smiles or praises you, you preen like you just won a gold medal and your face feels hot.

so, you genuinely don't understand how he seems so unfazed?? at the very least he should've felt something was up and rejected you if he wasn't into it. but nope, he's still smiling at you, ruffling your hair.

okay, you think maybe you're being too subtle. it's been three months and there isn't any response.

you begin to bring him little gifts. nothing expensive or big, trinkets that would fit in your pocket. a little keychain of a cigar, a pin of his favorite football club, packets of his favorite coffee flavor.

"oh, what's this for then?" he'd asked, glancing at the little keychain.

"nothin'. just saw it and reminded me of you!" you grin happily. he still seems confused, but accepts your gift anyway.

"thank you, that's very kind of you :)" he gifted you one or two items, even going as far to let you ride shotgun on missions. you were feeling fairly optimistic.

this goes on for another three months, you bringing him something once every two weeks. it's gotten to the point where even soap and gaz have realized what's up (simon doesn't give a fuck).

"you got favorites now? don't think we've ever received a gift from 'em gaz." soap loves to make fun of your infatuation with price. gaz doesn't start anything, but he'd gladly chime in.

after half a year, you're pissed off. because how has he not said anything yet?? you thought he was starting to catch your drift but apparently not. he was either leading you on or genuinely thinks you were just being friendly.

you're over the top now, even simon's cringing slightly at you blatantly gushing over the captain.

you were linking your arm with his if you two walked somewhere together (his forehead did the little scrunch from confusion but didn't say anything).

anytime he wanted to show you something, you'd come around and stand as close to him as possible. one time you even put your head on his shoulder to read the document.

even your jokes had gotten more flirtatious without being overtly sexual. yet still... nothing.

you were pissed. you've been throwing yourself at him every chance you got, any more you'd get written up for fraternization. the next time all of you go out for drinks at the pub, you decide it's do or die.

you put on your best dress, one that hugs your figure nicely. you even do your hair and put a bit of make up on. tonight was the night you were either going to have your heart broken or have a good time.

when you open the door to the pub, you know gaz spots you first judging by the drink he just spat. soap turns and whistles, laughing loudly (simon didn't come). you see price is missing, but you find him at the bar ordering drinks. you slink next to him.

"another one for me?" he spins at the sound of your voice, eyes going wide for a fraction of a second. he coughs and brings up another finger to the bartender.

"you look..." he begins, you inch yourself forward to hear him better and shove something in his face. "different." the smile instantly drops from your face. you pull him away from the bar easily (he let you) and drag him outside.

"why are we out here?" he questions innocently. you huff, not believing the audacity of this man in front of you.

"captain. with all due respect, i don't know how many more signs i can give you before i lose my mind. i have my tits out," you gesture at them and his eyes falls downwards before going back to your face, "and you haven't even looked once."

"i like you, you can kiss me right now or tell me to fuck off and transfer me." you cross your arms, lips turning down into a frown. he was in shock, you can almost physically see a loading bar on top of his head.

to your surprise, he cups your face and leans down to kiss you. your heart was thumping and mouth slightly agape, but the only response you could think of was, "were you really that oblivious?"

"sorry, love. i thought you were just trying to ride shotgun." he grins.

what an idiot (affectionate).

notes: ahfudshf my stupid old man <3

#john price x reader #captain john price x reader #price x reader #cod fic #john price #john price drabble #john price fic #captain john price fic #john price oneshot #cod x reader #john price fluff

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rowretro · 3 months

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YANDERE ENHA REACTION:

you ask for cuddles after they had punished you

✧warnings: toxic/yandere themes, somewhat violence

✧synopsis: Yandere Enhypen as your boyfriend. They had punished you for a mistake you had done, perhaps running away or interacting with another boy, and yet there you were asking them for cuddles...

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

✧LEE HEESEUNG✧

He just snickerred. It wasn't that long ago when he caught you hiding behind a tree, burying your face in your knees, hoping he didn't find you. It wasn't that long ago when he locked you in the basement, chaining you to the wall, depriving you of comfortable sleep, good food and even water. Yet here you were in front of him asking you for cuddles.

He fucking loved it goddamit. You needed him, you wanted him, and even after all that running away and Ethan Lee's torture, you were still in love with him. "Hee hee pleaseeee" you whined with a pout, fear still evident in your eyes. "Then promise me you'd never pull such a stunt ever again kitten..." Heeseung said as you promised him. The male smirked, satisfied, and carried you to his room as he really did miss having you in his arms when he'd peacefully drift off to his dreamland.

✧PARK JONGSEONG✧

Jay scoffed at you. The audacity to run off like that when he wasn't home. He trusted her for one day. only to find the lock broken and his girl gone. So he punished you. and here you were, 2 days after, the wounds barely healing, asking for cuddles "You think you deserve any?!!! I spoil you with everything and yet you broke my fucking trust. Go sleep and do not touch me." Jay warned, putting a pillow between them.

For at least a week or even a month, Jay would put up this cold facade, seeing you cry and beg, and have meltdowns. He needed you to crave for him, just as equally as he craves you. At least a month passes, and he hugs you tightly, placing soft kisses down your neck, and finally letting you cuddle him "See princess? you need me... so don't ever run off like that okay?"

✧SIM JAEYUN✧

How could you run away y/n? all he ever did despite kidnapping you and killing your boyfriend, was love you dearly and buy you everything you've ever wanted, yet you betrayed him, you hurt him, you fucking ran away. So it was no surprise you were stuck in the basement, with healing cuts and a growling stomach. As soon as Jake let you out, he made you a nice meal to make up for all those days, he helped you shower, and treated your wounds.

Yet he was so cold toward you. "Jakey... c-can we cuddle?" you suddenly asked as you softly tug on his hoodie. The male turned around to look at you. oh the desperation in your eyes, you wanted to be in his arms. It was like everything he suffered for was worth this very moment. "Of course darling, anything for my love" he said with a smile as you hugged him tightly and fuck. he fucking loved it.

✧PARK SUNGHOON✧

Sunghoon was one to get easily jealous, plus him being a yandere, it's surprising he even lets you go out. The man just wanted to take you out on a nice date. You, him and the beautiful scenery. Yet there he saw you smiling and talking with Sunoo, his best friend who happened to be your cousin. He was fucking mad. As soon as you got home you regretted even looking in Sunoo's direction.

You were still bleeding from Sunghoon's punishment, and yet he saw you on the floor, cleaning up the smashed shards of glass that pierced your skin. He picked you up and slipped off your clothes, treating those cuts and slipping on one of his shirts on you. The man silently cleaned up all the smashed fragments, and mopped the floor, not wanting you to get hurt. "Hoon... can we cuddle?" you asked as the man looked at you "Fine..." he trailed off, finishing up the cleaning as he joined the bed with you

✧KIM SUNOO✧

Sunoo wasn't the type to get jealous that easily. Yet when he saw you smile at Haruto, and laughing at his jokes, he was beyond jealous. He was fucking pissed. The whole car ride home was filled with arguments and as soon as you got home, you knew what was going to happen. He yanked your jacket off of you and threw you in the basement, locking the door while you screamed and cried for him to let you out. He fucking hated your attitude.

When he did let you out, all he could do was smirk. You weren't arguing or glaring at him, you weren't biting at him every ten seconds. You was silent. Sunoo dried your hair and brushed it "So pretty... love you most when you aren't being a bitch to me you know love?" Sunoo asked as the girl turned to him. "C-Can we cuddle?" you asked as Sunoo smiled "Of course we can pretty girl, right after I do your hair" He said with a smile, kissing your nose.

✧YANG JUNGWON✧

Jungwon can easily hide how he's feeling when he's around others, which is probably why you failed to notice how jealous he was when you were smiling and laughing with one of his colleagues. But you knew what you were in for when you saw the glare Jungwon sent you. You immediately pulled away from the male and went to Jungwon's side. Since that day, you were chained to your bed, wounds barely healing and you so badly wanted Jungwon.

The male walked in and out every now and then ignoring your cries. "J-Jungwon please can we cuddle?" You finally asked. It was way beyond your punishment time, and he missed you like fucking crazy. so he unchained you, and kissed your forehead "Go shower first, then we can cuddle." he said as the girl nodded.

✧NISHIMURA RIKI✧

Everyone knew how much Riki hated Jisung. So to see you, his own girlfriend, help him had him insanely raging. Fuck what pissed him off more than that and your smiles, was the way the male checked you out. Riki dragged you home, slapping you as soon as he locked the door. Fuck he was so mad, locking you in the basement after piercing his initials into your thighs. He didn't let you stay in there for over a day. He didn't want you to die, he needed you alive, he needed you full stop.

So he let you out, helping you shower and get dressed into his clothes, after treating your wounds. This side of Riki, you loved like crazy. "I should just tattoo my name on you... maybe on your lower back, it's be pretty there, or on your wrist, gotta make it tiny tho-" "Riki can we just cuddle?" You ask as he stared at you. After a while he just kissed you, trailing more kisses down your neck "Stupid y/n... you can't let that mother fucker push you around like that baby" Riki said as he snuggled you, your head buried in his chest.

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bedoballoons · 3 months

Note

GENSHIN BOYS WITH A FEM!THIN/UNDERWEIGHT READER???? ive always been rlly thin, so it’s not eating disorder related just a scrawny fem!reader

OOOOOO OKIE!! I've always been thicker myself so I hope I wrote this well! Thank you for your request and I hope you enjoy the characters I picked!!

─⊰💕𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤💕⊰─

{༻~Scrawny and cute~༺}

CW: Fem! Reader described as being very thin!, fluffy and sweet!

A/n: First time writing Gaming!! EEE so excited!! Hope I did him justice!!

(Includes: Lyney, Gaming, and Venti!)

𑁍༄Lyney:

You tried to stay perfectly still as Lynette measured you...how had you gotten in this position? You weren't really sure, all you knew was that Lyney was special ordering you a outfit for his next show and he'd asked his sister to measure you, only she seemed a little perplexed with the results. "You're eating right? You make sure to have three meals a day? Maybe even some snacks?"

You raised a eyebrow at her, "Yes of course. Why do you ask?"

She paused for a second, her features not giving any hint to what she was feeling, "Your measurements are just very small, for a second I was worried you might need to eat more."

"Nope, I was actually worried about that at first as well, but I always make food and she eats it. She's just naturally thin, which is exactly why I'm thinking you'll be perfect for the trick I have in mind...if that's alright of course?"

You and Lynette turned your attention to Lyney as he walked up to you, his eyes sparkling with inspiration as you contemplated his request. "Hmm do I get a kiss after the show?"

"As if you wouldn't mon amour~"

𑁍༄Gaming:

"Woah here let me get that for ya!"

"Watch your step, don't want you to fall!"

"Get to safety I'll take care of them!"

You'd heard them a few to many times lately, you knew Gaming was only looking out for you, he was a caring guy and he truly just wanted to make sure you were okay all the time...even if he was being a little to...over protective. Yes you were a bit scrawnier than he was...his claymore probably weighed more then you did, but that didn't mean he had to do everything for you..., "Hey Gaming? You know you don't have to do all that stuff for me right? I can do it just fine I swea-"

"Oh I have no doubts you could, I just figured when I'm with you, you shouldn't have to. Hmm how do I put this...you're one of the most precious things to me, so I want to take care of you." He scratched the back of his neck, a blush creeping onto his cheeks, "Maybe I was over doing it though...sorry. Promise i'll remember that for next time, for now lets enjoy some dim sum!"

𑁍༄Venti:

Venti wrapped his arms around your waist tightly and rested his chin on your shoulder, watching as ran your fingers over the details engraved in his lyre. He'd been teaching you how to play little by little everyday and now you could almost strum a whole song...but it still just didn't sound as good as when he played it, "Venti do you think one day my music will induce feelings like yours does? I want to play you a melody that leaves you feeling calm and happy, just like you do to me."

He smiled softly and kissed your cheek, his embrace growing slightly tighter around your slim waist, "I think one day you will make music that leaves everyone feeling calm and free, you have talent and a beauty even crystal flies would be jealous of."

You felt your cheeks heat up at his words and butterflies fill your stomach...one day. One day you'd play him a tune that explained every feeling just right and then when he held you tightly after, chuckling happily and making a joke about how he hopes he doesn't break you with his hugs...you'd tell him just how much you loved him and it would be the most perfect of days.

ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚~Have a nice day!~*⁠.⁠✧

#genshin impact #genshin headcanons #genshin #genshin fanfic #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin fluff #lyney x you #lyney x reader #lyney headcanons #lyney fluff #gaming headcanons #gaming fluff #gaming x you #gaming x reader #venti headcanons #venti fluff #venti x you #venti x reader

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sidekick-hero · 3 months

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Written for the @steddielovemonth prompt: Love is being willing to wait for them.

Eddie was six years old when he first met Steve, not that he would remember it until much, much later.

The boy Eddie met that day was sweet and a little shy, perhaps because he was so small for his age. He was a year younger than Eddie, only five, which was forever in Eddie's eyes. He felt responsible for the little boy somehow, so he walked up to him on the deserted playground to make sure he was okay.

"'Ello!" Eddie exclaimed, holding out his hand for Steve to shake, like he'd seen his daddy do all the time when they were in town. His dad called it part of the Munson charm, whatever that was, and Eddie wanted to be as cool as his dad. "I'm Eddie, who are you?"

The boy looked up at Eddie with big eyes and made no move to take Eddie's hand, so Eddie reached out and took the boy's hand in his own and shook it wildly.

"See, that's how you do it. And then you say your name. Let's try it again!" Eddie decided, still pumping the boy's hand. "I'm Eddie."

"Steve," the boy said with a slight lisp, and Eddie thought maybe he hadn't said his name earlier because he was afraid Eddie would make fun of him for it. The other kids made fun of him a lot, for a lot of reasons that Eddie didn't really understand. All he knew was that he didn't like it; it made him sad. Especially since none of the other kids would play with him, so he had to go on his adventures all alone, fighting the big dragon without a trusted knight at his side.

Perhaps Steve could be his knight.

"Will you help me slay the big dragon, Steve?" Eddie asked, suddenly excited at the prospect of finally having someone to play with. "He stole all our gold, so we have to slay him!"

He was still holding Steve's hand, but he dropped it as he began to imitate how they would fight the beast with their swords. "I'm a mage because my mom says every fairy tale needs a good fairy or a mage to help the hero defeat the villain. And you can be that hero, Steve! I'll help you with my magic," Eddie promised, his whole face breaking into a wide grin.

Steve giggled, but Eddie thought it wasn't like the other kids laughing at him. It sounded nice, like Steve was enjoying Eddie's antics. "What do you think, Sir Steve?"

Between bursts of pearly laughter, Steve eagerly agreed, but then paused to ask Eddie in a suddenly serious tone, "But why don't you wanna be the hero?"

"I'm no hero, Stevie! I'm a mage, didn't you hear me? I can do magic to help the hero, because only together can we defeat the beast." Eddie explained in an equally serious tone, because killing dragons was serious business.

"Okay," Steve agreed. "How do we fight a dragon? I never fought a dragon before."

Eddie explained his plans to Steve, and together they ran and climbed around the playground in search of the dragon. It was the most fun Eddie had had in a long time. Steve was the best hero ever; he listened to Eddie's ideas and had some surprisingly fun ones of his own. They forgot everything around them, caught up in a world of make-believe, until a woman's voice startled them out of their play.

"Steve! Steven, where are you? If your parents come home and you're not there, they'll fire me," the woman grumbled before shouting again. "Steve!"

Eddie looked at Steve questioningly as the voice came closer.

"That's Lucy, she's looking after me 'cause my parents don't have time," Steve explained in a low voice. "I have to go." He looked very sad when he said that and Eddie already missed his bright smile.

"That's okay, Stevie, we can kill the dragon tomorrow!"

That made Steve perk up. "Yeah?"

"Yeah! I'll wait for you here tomorrow!"

"Thanks, Eddie!" Steve exclaimed, throwing his arms around Eddie in a tight hug before running off to find the woman.

The next day, Eddie was back at the playground as soon as he could get away from their house, telling his mama that he had finally made a friend and now they had to kill the dragon. "He's my hero, Mom, and I'm his mage, just like in the fairy tales!" He told her, and she hugged him tightly before making him and Steve two sandwiches, because "slaying dragons is hard work and makes you hungry'.

Steve wasn't there when Eddie arrived at the playground, so Eddie sat down on the swings and waited for his new friend.

He waited until the first signs of dawn reached the playground, and he had to eat both sandwiches because he was hungry, and drink all the water his mama had packed.

Eddie only left when it got dark, and he knew his mama would be worried. But he was back the next day, and the next. Every day for weeks, Eddie waited for Steve on the swing, always wondering why his new friend didn't want to play with him anymore.

Eddie never made a connection between his Stevie and King Steve. How could he, when King Steve was all aloof and arrogant, looking down on people like Eddie and walking the halls of Hawkins High with that haughty grin on his face. The boy wasn't his hero, and Eddie wouldn't dream of using his magic to help him.

Funnily enough, the first time Steve's sight sparked any kind of recognition in Eddie was when Eddie pinned him against a boathouse wall with a bottle against his neck. Stripped of his usual confidence by surprise and fear, Steve looked somehow... small. He sounded even smaller as he tried to reassure Eddie that he meant no harm, and the sound of his voice made something tingle at the back of Eddie's mind.

Steve was different than Eddie had expected, to say the least.

At times, he was snarky and bitchy. But not in the mean way he had been in high school. He was all bark and no bite. And he was good to Eddie's sheep, to all the kids, really. Like a big brother, a protector. A knight in shining armor who stood between them and danger.

And not just for the kids, for everyone.

Steve jumped into a dark, deep lake not knowing what awaited him; fought demonic bats with bare hands and teeth, losing more flesh than seemed healthy.

Steve was a hero, and later Eddie berated himself for not realizing it sooner, but hindsight is 20/20, and he only understood that Steve Harrington was indeed his Stevie when it was too late to do anything about it.

Eddie was almost sure when they stole the RV together, because the way Steve grinned at him just before they switched positions and Steve sped out of the trailer park reminded him so much of the sweet boy he once knew.

The boy he never really stopped waiting for.

When Steve asked Dustin and Eddie not to be cute, not to be heroes, he decided to test his theory.

"We're not heroes," he told Steve, and when Dustin said “you can be the hero, Steve” Eddie was watching his face for any sign of recognition. He could have sworn he saw a flicker of it in Steve's eyes. That was the moment he almost, almost asked outright.

Eddie even called out to him, the words on his tongue, "Why didn't you come back? I was waiting for you.' But in the end he decided against it. What use was there? They had bigger problems to deal with right now. He would ask Steve later, when it was all over. He would tell him that he had been waiting for him all this time and that he was glad that Steve had come back to him.

They would talk later.

Only later wouldn't come, Eddie realized as he tasted his own blood in his mouth and stared into Dustin's frightened, tearful eyes.

And then Steve was there, holding his hand, begging him, pleading with him to stay, not to die. Eddie couldn't promise him that, but he had promised him something else, and he wanted Steve to know that he had never broken that promise.

"I waited for you, Stevie. Every..." Eddie coughed wetly, more blood flooding his mouth, and he suppressed the grimace to keep smiling at Steve. "Every day. I knew you'd come back. Worth... the wait," Eddie whispered, his voice fading. Eddie was fading fast.

In the distance he heard Steve's voice begging him to stay, he needed his mage by his side, and the last thing he thought was that he was sorry he had to leave before he could see Steve slay their dragon, but he hoped his magic had helped enough.

The next time Eddie was able to think and feel, it was like waking up from the worst hangover ever. Everything hurt, even his hair.

Slowly opening his eyes to a thankfully dimly lit room, he winced at the sharp pain in his head. It made moving his head even more torturous, but Eddie had to know where he was. Looking around as much as he could, he realized several things.

He was in a hospital bed with monitors beeping softly beside him.

It was night, with only a small bedside lamp providing some light.

Steve Harrington was asleep next to him, his arms crossed on Eddie's bed and his head resting on them.

Eddie must have made some sort of noise at the sight, because at that moment Steve jumped to his feet, ready to fight or flight.

Then he looked at Eddie and a myriad of expressions played across his face. Most of them passed too quickly for Eddie to decipher, but he's sure he saw surprise and joy. Wonder, definitely, but maybe fear, too, though Eddie had no idea why Steve would be afraid of him.

"Steve," Eddie croaked, his throat like sandpaper. The sound of his name was enough to jolt Steve into action and he hurried over to Eddie's bedside table. Seconds later, a straw was held to his mouth and blessedly cool water filled his mouth and ran down his throat.

"Thank you," he told Steve when the cup was empty and he felt more like a human being again. A badly mangled human being, but he took what he could get. "What happened? Is everyone..."

"Vecna is dead. Everyone made it out alive." Eddie let out a breath he didn't even know he was holding. "That's all you need to know for now. I'll tell you the rest tomorrow, okay? You should get some more rest. You... we almost lost you."

Steve looked shattered as he said this and Eddie finally noticed the dark bags under his eyes. Steve's hair worried him even more. It looked greasy and unkempt, worse than it had even looked in the Upside Down.

Eddie was afraid to ask, but he had to know. "How long..."

"Twenty days. They couldn't tell us when you'd wake up. If you'd wake up." His voice broke at the words, and Eddie tried to lift his hand to soothe and comfort, but it weighed a million pounds.

"I'm sorry I kept you waiting so long, Stevie," he said instead, hoping to ease Steve's pain with his words instead. But all it did was make Steve collapse, the bed the only thing breaking his fall. He was the one who reached for Eddie's hand then and held on to it like a lifeline.

"I'm sorry, Eddie. I'm the one who kept you waiting for years. I never went back to that playground. My babysitter didn't want to take me anymore because I ran away, and she almost lost her job. And then it had been years before I was old enough to go by myself and I couldn't... the thought of going there and you not being there was too much. And why should you be? Nobody would wait that long."

The "not for me" rang out between them and Eddie gathered all his strength to pull Steve's hand to his mouth. As he planted a kiss on the soft skin of the back of his hand, Eddie said in a low voice, "I did ... I waited all this time for you. This playground became my hound, once a day I would stop by, just in case. I always hoped you would come back."

Now it was Steve's turn to take Eddie's hand in his and place it gently on his cheek, planting a soft kiss on Eddie's palm.

Caressing Steve's lips with his thumb, Eddie smiled at the sweet boy he had waited a lifetime for. His hero.

"We did it, Stevie. We slayed the dragon!"

Steve's pearly laugh echoed through the room, silenced only by Eddie's lips as he leaned down to capture them in a fairy-tale kiss.

#steddie #steddie fanfiction #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddielovemonth #day 4 #love is being willing to wait for them #my writing

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milksnake-tea · 1 month

Note

Hi hi hii!

May I have 2, 4, and 7 with Aventurine for the ask game? Have a nice day!

This man has a strong chokehold on me-

- 🪽

nah bro i totally get you that damn blonde im telling you .... him and his little >:3 are permanently etched into my brain .... THANKS FOR THE ASK !!! <3

2. What do you think their love language is?

My first thought was initially words of affirmation or acts of service, but now that I'm thinking about it, I think Aventurine would be a sucker for physical touch. The thing is, I personally believe that Aventurine is heavily touched starved, and a huge part of it is self-inflicted. There have been many times where he wanted to hold your hand, or lean onto your shoulder, or just have his hair played with, but he holds himself back because 1.) it's unprofessional and 2.) does he really want to deal with the implications of his actions? Even with friends (or the closest things he has to friends), he wants to be physically close to them, but he doesn't let himself be. The first time you held his hand, he stiffened like a block of wood. When you hugged him, and held him in his arms, he didn't know how to react - but it wasn't long until he closed his eyes and let himself slump against you.

4. What's an unpopular opinion you have?

i cant believe i have to say this BUT HE IS NOT A WHORE !!!!! Can he be clingy? Yes !! Can he be intentionally irritating and annoying? Yes !!! Can he come across as flirty? ABSOLUTELY. But what he isn't is someone who gives himself away at the drop of a hat. Intimacy and companionship, whether platonic or romantic, is something he desires, absolutely. But that doesn't mean he'll give it to just anyone. He has to respect you, he has to like you, he has to know you inside and out to ensure that you won't take advantage of his vulnerability.

I acknowledge that Aventurine often invites people to stab him in the back, but he does it with the prior knowledge that they'd likely do it, so he isn't surprised about it. But when it comes to true companions, not the "friends" he collects like chips, he needs to be able to trust you in all of your entirety. Yes, he has a very low view of himself, but it's not to the degree where he'd willingly use his body in that way to get what he wants.

7. What kind of person do you think Aventurine wants in a relationship?

The real question is whether or not he'll allow himself the liberty of getting into a relationship in the first place. But if I'm going to be honest, I see Aventurine as someone who values honesty and self-reliance, and admires those who are true to themselves and their ideals despite it all (example: Topaz and Dr. Ratio, both of whom he respects and admires as colleagues). So when it comes to being in a relationship, he doesn't want to stress himself out with the mind games; banter, sure, but he doesn't need another person to tip toe around.

Aventurine would want someone who isn't afraid to ask for what they want, or tell him off when he needs to be, yet is genuine, kind and earnest. He also would want someone who could at least take care of themself - as harsh as it sounds, he can't always be there to protect you, and he needs to know that you'll be okay even if he isn't there (also because he finds strength, both intellectual and physical, to be pretty attractive).

It's kind of sad, though. The kind of people Aventurine finds himself attracted to are often the type who end up disliking him.

2k follower event if you want to participate !!!

#mail 🏵️#event 🏵️#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #hsr #hsr x reader #aventurine #aventurine hsr #aventurine x reader #hsr aventurine #hsr aventurine x reader #x reader #reader insert #y/n #archives 🏵️

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sports-on-sundays · 2 months

Text

and I can change / CL16 / Part 2

Summary: dad!Charles x French!ex!reader - Charles would do anything to convince you to forgive him. He'd do anything to revive his family.

Warnings: Again, Y/s/n is 'your son's name'. And again, his age is unspecified- you decide what you think. crying (LOTS of crying), mention of drunkenness, mention of sex, mention of cheating, broken relationships, broken family, censored cussing

Requested?: Yeah! Requested by some sweet souls who read part 1! @barcelonaloverf1life @architect-2015 @emz2092 @cilliansgirl @lunamelona @lightdragonrayne @leclercgirl16

Author's Note: You guys asked for it, so I gave it! I hope you enjoy! Same song as inspiration. Also I'm thinking after this part I'll write a part 3, and then after that maybe a little epilogue, to wrap this up. Tell me what you think. Also, this is the link to part 1 / and the link to part 3

"Y/n, people change.

"And I can change, too."

You lay on your bed, engulfed in the darkness of the room surrounding you. The darkness seems to go deeper than just your surroundings- deeper, and into you.

Over and over the scene plays through your mind. Those words that Charles had uttered. The way he had clutched your hand in both of his, as if it were his only lifeline. In that moment, the desperation his eyes had denoted was incredible.

Charles, why? Why couldn't you let go? You're making it all so much more complicated.

But you know what he would say. Why? Why, Y/n? Because this isn't just about myself. Don't you see the brokenness in our son? Don't you see it?

Guilt washes over you, and then rage.

I shouldn't be the one feeling guilt. He should. He's the one who messed up our family. He's the one who's fault it is!

The way he cried, though.

The desperation.

The thing is that he is feeling guilty. Or at least so it seemed.

But does he really deserve a second chance? Do you?

Your phone rings at 12:00 A.M. On the dot. Charles has always been on the dot. Unless he's drunk, that is.

Why is he calling?

Right when I'm thinking about him, too.

Although this really isn't too surprising, when you consider it. For the past week and a half or so, you've stayed up until roughly 2:00 in the morning, staring at the ceiling, thinking, unable to convince yourself into peace and slumber.

And now a call comes.

Charles, why?

It feels terrible as you answer. "Charles. Don't call me."

"Y/n," he says in a calm voice. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" you snap, trying to keep it down. Your son is sleeping (hopefully) in the next room.

"For reacting so emotionally. I'm sorry. For years this has weighed on me, but crying and begging won't get us anywhere."

"We're not going anywhere, whether you cry and beg or not." You hang up.

A month after that call where you rejected Charles for what you hoped would be the last time, there's a knock on the door on a Saturday. You walk to it, and freeze when you look through the peephole.

Why is Charles Leclerc here?

Anxiety hits you. The house is a mess, you've got no food to give him, you look like a mess in your pajamas and unbrushed hair-

How can he just show up at your door like this?

It's obnoxious.

You honestly are about to pretend you aren't home, but then Y/s/n suddenly runs in, squealing, "Mama, who is it?! Is it the mailman?"

You sigh at your son's strange fascination for the mailman. You're not completely sure why he enjoys the young, dry, monotone mailman, and for years just assumed because he was generally a nice bloke, and little kids are weird, until you realized with an ounce of dread that the mailman resembles Charles, in a way. After that, you've never encouraged his enthusiasm for the mailman, just in case that was the reason, whether conscious or not.

"No, no," you sigh, unlocking the door. "It's not the mailman, love."

"Who is it, Mama?"

As you swing the door open, you murmur, "Well, love, none other but your father."

"Daddy!" the little boy, still in his Lightning McQueen pajamas, squeals, running to hug his father. You glance away, staring at the floor.

Charles hugs your son, kissing him, and exclaims, "Aw, there's my little buddy! How are you, man?"

"I'm good, Daddy! Are you coming to live here now, Daddy?!"

"Ugh- Not quite..." He picks up your son, and looks to you, immediately saying, "Sorry it's such short notice."

You grit your teeth, murmuring, "You mean no notice?"

"Right," he nods with a quick exhale.

While the presence of your son is a burden for you, preventing you from showing your true feelings, it may be an advantage for Charles, to get across what he needs to get across. Whatever that may be.

Because this is all just a game. Everyone with their own different motives. Y/s/n wants Mama and Daddy to love each other because he wants one place to live. Charles' motives are unknown, but probably are just manipulative and selfish- about making himself feel better. And your motive? You don't want to relive the past, so will avoid Charles at all costs.

Charles' and Y/s/n's motives align more with each other than your's.

You look at your son. Who you love so much. He looks at you with hope. Charles looks at you with... a very similar expression.

These two.

How can you love one and hate the other?

They're both family, as much as you hate to admit it. Because one of them, you wish you could erase.

No. But you don't. Because if you'd never met Charles, Y/s/n would never have been born. And you can't even begin to imagine your life without him.

You hold the door open, and gesture to the couch. "Sit down, Charles. I'm going to get dressed, and then put the kettle on." You say all this through gritted teeth.

How can he just walk in as if he owns the place?

He nods. "Thank you, Y/n." You watch in the doorway to the hall as Charles sits down on the couch with his son on his lap. You watch as he says softly, picking up a toy car from off the rug, "This car is awesome, Y/s/n. Where'd you get it?"

"Mama got it for me! For my birthday!" Y/s/n takes it from his father's hand with much pride, and starts driving it across Charles' chest, up onto his neck, and eventually onto his cheeks. The whole time, Charles laughs, his hand on his son's back to keep him from tipping off his lap.

"That's a super cool car. Does it have a name?"

"Uhhh," Y/s/n frowns. "Zoom! Because he goes zooooom!"

"Oh, it's a he?"

"Of course," Y/s/n says, as if this fact should be obvious. Then he giggles, "Because girls smell."

"They smell?! No way. Girls don't smell."

"Yeah, they do," he crosses his arms, frowning at his father. "You don't know any girls. You only know... Uh, Cah-los."

Charles laughs out loud. "The only person I know is 'Cah-los'?"

"Yep! And Uncle Arthur and Uncle Lorenzo, but that's it!" your son claims in a very matter-of-fact tone.

Their conversation continues, but you finally turn to leave and get yourself fixed up. You quickly shower, brush your teeth and hair, put on moisturizing cream, perfume, and deodorant, and put on a beige hoodie, grey sweatpants, and slides, before going to make tea. The whole time, you mind swirls.

Why is he here? Why is he here on a Saturday? Why is he here, without even asking to come? It's so... obnoxious.

You finish making two cups of tea, finding with awe as you make them that you remember exactly the way Charles likes his tea, and you're doing it automatically.

Because I used to do this so much.

You walk back in with the tea and see the two boys sitting on the rug now. Charles is tickling Y/s/n's tummy, and both of them are laughing- Charles with more of a chuckle and Y/s/n with more of a squealing giggle. When Charles sees you, he slowly stops, saying with a little sigh, "Alright, bud. Mama's back with my tea, and I mean to drink it."

"But Daddyyy!"

"Nope!" he grins, standing up, ruffling his son's messy hair. He then walks to you, and you hand him his tea. He lights up when he tastes the tea and looks at you, muttering softly, "My God, you remembered how I like my tea...?"

"Don't jump to sh*t, Charles," you murmur, soft enough for Y/s/n not to hear.

"Right," he sighs, sitting down again on the couch.

You set your tea down, walking to your son. "Alright, love. I want you to go in your room now, okay? Remember the Lego plane you were building? Why don't you work on that? I want to see it once it's finished, okay? And if you need anything, call, okay? Don't come in here. Just call, and one of us will come."

He looks questioningly. "Why, Mama?"

"Me and your father have important things to talk about. And if you don't listen, there will be consequences."

He blinks, pouting.

"I'll turn on your storybook audio for you. Come on." You bring him to his room and get him set up, until you're sure he's completely distracted with the Legos and the storybook. Only then do you come back to the living room and sit down awkwardly next to Charles.

He's still wearing his red windbreaker from when he was outside, and a black scarf hangs loose around his neck. His hair is a bit messed up, but he looks perfect, like always.

Too perfect.

"Let me take your scarf and jacket. And your shoes."

"Right," he says with a swift nod, handing you his scarf, coat, and sleek black boots. You put them by the door, and sit down, viewing the cozy grey sweater adorning his frame. You have a passing thought, considering how much unnecessary money he might have spent on such a garment.

"So?" you ask in a tense voice. "What is this all about, Charles?"

"There are some things we need to work out. You're right- one of the many things I've done wrong to you is always being a f*cking coward. You're right. I didn't say what was on my mind, and I faked it, and I kept quiet, because I didn't want to upset you. But now I see that the only thing I can do now is speak up, be honest, and be a man. You rightfully left me because I wasn't being a proper man. I wasn't being your proper man. I was being a terrible husband and a terrible father. But now we need to uncover what's true- we both have different views, both of which are likely exaggerated or incorrect in different ways."

"I don't care, Charles," you say quickly, flat out trying to ignore his admittance to wrong. Perhaps because you don't want it to be true. Because if he's sorry, that means you have to forgive him.

"So you're telling me you'd rather believe lies, just because it makes you feel better? What kind of thinking is that?"

You hate to admit that he's right. So you say nothing.

There's silence. But then he says, "So tell me what happened."

"You know what happen-"

"Tell me, Y/n." His voice isn't rude, but definitely firm.

You swallow, shaking your head. You don't want to work this out. You want to forget Charles. But clearly, that's impossible. "You were irresponsible. You'd get drunk, never be home, never help me. I'd be all on my own... You... You'd use me for your own pleasure but never show true, selfless love... Then you came home drunk saying stuff about a pretty woman and sex and getting pregnant... So you cheated... And I divorced you because I couldn't take it any more." You can't believe it, but you're trying not to choke up as you whisper, "Charles, what we had seemed perfect. Until you messed it up." Your mouth tastes like poison.

Charles stares down, his eyes swirling with everything but empty, at the same time. "Y/n," he whispers. "I was terrible. You're right. I was never around because I was immature and scared. I didn't understand. To get away from it, I drank and had fun with friends."

Your lip curls. "You're not the victim."

"And I never said I was! I was scared of being a father. I was scared of messing up. I wasn't ready and I let everything happen too quickly. I was a coward and I left you. Even though you divorced me, I was the one who left you. That's what happened. I was stupid. I was a terrible person. It's all my fault."

"Why would you be any different now? There's no way for you to prove that. Before the marriage you were fine. It was when we married that you went downhill. It was like... you couldn't stand me."

He looks torn apart. "I loved you. I... I... I still do. I knew I wasn't being a good husband or father and to forget about it, I drank."

"And why wouldn't you still do it now?!"

"Because I don't. I feel more guilt now than I did then! I feel more responsibility now than I did then! And that was my greatest fear! Responsibility! But now I don't drink excessively! Now I don't avoid reality! Because I need you... Our son needs us. Together. Don't you need me?"

"Not the you I know."

"You don't know me anymore. I'm not the same person I was." His voice is so uncommonly firm, it slightly shocks you.

You stare into each other's eyes.

He goes on, "That night, I didn't cheat. I was intoxicated. A young woman was trying to seduce me, but I refused because I had you. You, my beautiful wife, both inside and out. I wanted to convey to you that I said no because you were my wife. However, I failed to communicate this properly, and the next morning, I had completely forgotten the conversation. I chose not to tell you because I thought it would be better if you didn't know. I was afraid you would be angrier with me for being in that situation. I was a coward, and I didn't want you to be upset with me. I didn't realize for years that you believed I had cheated. If I had known, I would have assured you that I didn't cheat, just like I am doing now, and that I never would. Because I didn't. Despite all the mistakes I made, cheating on you is something I would never, ever do. I have always loved you, and only you, far too much for that."

Your hands tremble in your lap as you stare at him, listening.

Now you're the one getting emotional.

Charles leans in close to you- too close for comfort- and whispers, "I've changed... Please. I just want a second chance... To right my wrongs and give you and our son the lives you deserve. I need to give my all to you... I need to make it up to you... It's... It's crushing me."

"Why do you need a second chance?" Your voice, for once, isn't aggressive. It's gentle. Softer. Your voice cracks as you say, "You should have done it right the first time."

You see him swallow. "And you know what? I didn't. I f*cked up. I f*cked up everything. I f*cked up your life and I know it. I'm sorry. I wish I could go back in time and fix it and make it all better. I was stupid, Y/n. I was terrible. I hurt the most beautiful woman and her baby in the world. I'm the least." He takes your hand again in both his, but this time it's a gentler grasp.

"But you're not. You're famous. You have so many fans."

"Do you know how many times I've thought I don't deserve all this? If only I could share it all with you."

"Charles," your voice cracks again, and an unexpected, terrible longing fills you. "I want to believe you, but I can't. I'm broken, Charles, because of you. I can't afford to let you break me again..."

A tear rolls down your cheeks, and immediately he reaches up with his thumb, gently wiping your cheek, "No, Y/n, please don't cry... I don't want you to cry because of me any longer... Please..."

"Charles, I can't do this..." more tears fall.

There's hurt and confusion, but mostly longing and guilt in his eyes. "Please... If you'd only trust me, then we could make this right. I could make this right, after all I did wrong."

You can hardly believe yourself as you let your broken, silently crying self fall into Charles. You allow yourself to rest your head on his shoulder, and you allow his arms to wrap around you, giving you his warmth. "Charles..."

"Yes...?" There's a painful hope in his voice.

"I don't know if I can do this..." you cry into his shoulder now.

He whispers right in your ear, "Just give me a chance. Let me be there for you... Let me prove to you... Let me..."

You can't give him a yes or a no. Two sides war inside you- the mask and the face. You feel him stroke your hair as you cry, at the same time as remembering stroking his hair when he was drunk and needed comfort.

This is some sort of paradox, isn't it?

"Charles," you murmur, leaning away after you've gained control of yourself. "The answer is 'I don't know' right now, okay... Consider it... better than hating your guts with an adamant 'no.'"

As he gazes into your eyes, he leans closer. Softly, he places a tender kiss on your cheek and whispers, "I'll be ready whenever you are. And I'll never, ever stop waiting for you."

Weeks pass, and Charles can't understand why, after all that happened that day, still you insist on avoiding him like the plague.

Well, the reason is just that- avoidance. You're avoiding Charles because you don't want to face the possible truth. You're avoiding him because you don't want to make big decisions. You don't want to try again. You don't want to...

Well, you don't want to fall in love again.

And on that day, the way he treated you...

It reminded you of the man you married, and not the man you divorced.

And that scares you. Because you'll never forget the man you divorced.

So you're stubborn and resistent, and you're avoiding him.

So you sit, staring at the screen of your cell phone. Rereading the text on it. Over and over.

Charles Leclerc: I'm sorry for such a long text Y/n but you probably won't read it anyway, so what does it matter? I need to talk with you and you're doing exactly what I've done, what I'm apologizing for. For years I avoided this stuff and one of the reasons we split was that i couldn't stand up and address and tell you my problems. I was being a f*cking coward. And I've said sorry more times than I can count. I thought you might be on the road to forgiveness, to giving me a second chance. I know you felt the same way as me when you leaned into me and let me hold you when you cried- there's something more here, and I don't want you to ignore this. Can't we just try this? Please Y/n? I'm finally willing to step up, be a man, work through all this sh*t with you. Talk about it. I'm finally willing to be brave, and as soon as I am, you're doing the same thing you've yelled at me for years for doing- staying silent.

Charles Leclerc: I love you, Y/n, and this is a problem I desperately want to fix, but the truth of the matter is that you're being a f*cking hypocrite.

Me: How does it feel to be in the position you put me in for years?

You feel mean for typing that, and you're not sure how much you mean it. Maybe you meant to be kinder.

But the anger took over and your thumbs did the talking.

Charles leaves that message on read.

You sit in the cold metal chair, surrounded by pudgy, middle-aged parents and their gross kids all around you as a lone young mother sitting by herself. You're only here to see your son, and none of the other aspects of this situation bring you an ounce of joy.

All of a sudden, a shiver runs down your spine as a firm hand gently lands on your shoulder. Your head snaps up, meeting the gaze of Charles Leclerc. A look of disdain crosses your face, causing your heart to ache as you bluntly ask, "Why are you here?"

Charles takes a seat beside you in the vacant chair and casually remarks, "I've come to attend my son's school concert. And you?" A glimmer of amusement dances in his eyes.

Your jaw tightens in pure irritation, and you manage through gritted teeth in a tense, quiet tone, "Why did you choose to sit next to me?"

Charles hesitates, his expression softening, as he makes an effort to hold your gaze. "Well... Because I..." He swallows and says, "I'm not going to give up on you. That's why. So I figured I'd sit down next to you to watch my- our- son's concert. So..." Abruptly, he reaches for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. The veins in his hand are visible as he clasps yours tightly.

Your muscles tense, yet for some reason, you don't pull your hand away.

So throughout the whole school concert, Charles sits, gripping your hand, and seems to refuse to let it go.

And the moment the teacher is done on stage after the little production, thanking people for helping and the kids for doing such a great job and other stuff you don't listen to, Charles turns to you and says, "So, we have some minutes to spare."

Your eyebrows scrunch together. "Come again?"

He chuckles, but it doesn't feel called for. "You weren't listening to her? She said the students can be picked up from their classrooms by their parents in fifteen minutes."

Your jaw clenches again. "Charles, why?"

"Because I know you want it," he says incredibly earnestly. The inside of your heart melts as the outside hardens.

"But I don't think I do."

"But I know you do. Now come on." Your ex-husband stand up, pulling you up with him.

"Where are we going?" you ask. "And please let go of my hand. You've been holding it so long, it's starting to get sweaty."

He clicks his tongue and doesn't respond to either of these, then guides you down various hallways until you reach the school's exit. Finally, he sits down with you on a bench outside the school, and releases your hand.

"What are you doing?"

"Let's just hang out here for the next ten minutes, okay? We should talk," he says awkwardly, facing you.

"I don't get it. Charles, there's nothing you can do to-"

Charles interrupts, holding your face gently, gazing into your eyes. "Please, don't. Don't say that," he pleads, his thumb brushing your cheek. "There's something we can do. We can make this work... Please..."

His desperation, his begging, makes you want to cry. "Please just let it go... Let me go..."

"No, I don't want you to be trapped... Don't you see you'll be more free with me? You won't have to work as hard.. I'll take care of you and our son... I'll take half the work in the house you have to deal with... I'll... We'll... I just want you to believe that we'll be happier... I'm not saying we need to jump to anything today. I'm just saying, let's be kind to each other... Let's go out to eat sometimes, or go to our son's events together. Let's act just a little bit more like a family, even if we aren't yet. I just want to- I need to- I- I- I..." He trails off. His hands fall off your cheeks, and his shoulders slack. His head goes down.

It's like just the hard look in your eyes alone crushed him.

Like that alone is the huge weight he's bearing.

"F*** me, Y/n... F*** me," he whispers, his hands in his lap trembling. "I don't deserve you. I hurt you. Doesn't matter how much I changed. I still have to live through the consequences of my actions, don't I?" He seems to be talking more to himself, but you have no idea at this point. "Just f*** me." He exhales shakily, before suddenly standing up. He stares you right in your eyes, and your heart breaks when you see the hurt, the destroyed desperation. "It's fine, Y/n." He's trying to keep a level face. But his voice cracks. "I'll leave you alone. I'll let you go. I can see all this is just hurting you more. I never meant to hurt you more. I never meant to bring up the past to hurt you. I wanted to help you... I wanted to help you heal..." He drags a hand over his face. "But clearly I f***ing didn't. Clearly I messed it up again. I f***ing messed up again." He swallows. His eyes glimmer with wetness as he practically whispers, "The last thing I want is to hurt you. So I'll drop it. I'm just being selfish again, aren't I? I think this would be better, but you don't. And that's hurting you. And I never wanted to..." He swallows, his nose crunching up. Suddenly he yells, "I never wanted to hurt you ever again, because I love you, for f***'s sake! I love you, but I did hurt you, because, in the end, no matter what, I'm going to f*** it up anyway! So bye, Y/n!" Suddenly he turns on his feet. Like he doesn't want you to see him cry again. But you can hear the tears in his voice when the last thing he calls back is, "It will go back to normal, and we can pretend none of this ever happened! Pretend I'm a stranger! It's the best for you, anyway, apparently, and all I wanted was the best for you!"

You stare in shock as you watch him get in his car and drive away. You remain seated, gaze straight ahead. Tears well up in your eyes, and your body quivers, yet you manage to compose yourself, rise on unsteady legs, and compel yourself to return to the school to pick up your son.

But that just wasn't right.

I should have stopped him. I should have called him back. I should've.

How far can revenge go before it's gone too far?

For days, the guilt, the hurt, the rue- they weigh on you. Every moment of your days, it consumes your thoughts. Regret and confusion and anger fill you in every step, engulfing your every move. And if you thought you weren't getting any sleep before, now it's even worse.

You long to fix it, but you are unsure of how. Despite everything... You can't see how Charles isn't being honest. You want to have faith in him. A small part of you may even want to love him, just a little bit.

You're also fearful. Fearful of reaching out to him, because you don't know what you'd do. You have no idea.

But now you're dropping your son off at Charles's house. You swallow, and suddenly, on a whim, when you see Charles walking outside, waiting for Y/s/n, you get out of the car, too.

"Mama?" your son asks with a confused expression, still maintaining a little smile on his face.

You smile back down at him and say, "I'm walking you up to your daddy's house today, is all."

He shrug and nods, apparently accepting this.

He's such a good kid.

As you approach Charles, your smile twitches while you study him, but you say softly, "Hey, um... I... We..." Your tone sounds weak.

"Yes?" Charles asks, looking up. He looks perfect. As always.

Your eyes lock.

Please, Charles. I don't know how to say this. Please just understand.

His eyes remain blank. You let out a sigh.

And suddenly, you hug him.

Charles seems taken aback for only a moment, before he immediately hugs you back and says softly, "Hey... Want to come inside with me and Y/s/n?"

You nod. "Yes... Yes, please."

So Charles leads the two of you up to his flat. You sit down together on the couch, once again.

Last time you did this was the moment Charles cried out to you.

"Y/n, people change."

You swallow at the memory.

Is this another paradox? This time, will I be the one crying out to him?

Y/s/n is about to hop on the couch between you, but suddenly Charles scoops him up and says, "Hey, hey! I didn't get my hug from you yet, did I?!"

Your son giggles, getting comfortable on his father's lap, before giving him a big hug. "I scored a goal, Daddy..."

"You scored a goal?!" he grins. "Seriously?"

"Yeah! Mama cheered me on! I scored a goal when I played football!"

Charles looks so bright. Happy with his son. So proud. He doesn't get to see him as often as you do. "No way. You've got to be joking. Was it the winning goal?"

"Yep!" your son says proudly.

You find yourself smiling.

"Oh yeah, what was the score?"

Your son shrugs. "Dunno! But we won!"

You smile and mutter softly, "I think it was 4-1." Y/s/n plays in the little league team affiliated with his school.

"Yeah, but my goal made it 2-1, so I won it," he brags to his father.

Charles grins. "Oh, I'm sure it did. You know, I don't know where you got that talent for football from. Do you think Mama is good at football?"

Your son just shrugs with a grin, enjoying the affirmation from his father. "Dunno! But Mama is good at cuddling and playing with me."

Charles laughs. "Yeah, your mama takes good care of you." He glances at you with sparkling eyes, before looking back down at his son.

The two continue babbling on about sports and football and what not, until Charles finally ruffles his son's hair and says, "Well, buddy, I reckon it's time for me and Mama to have some alone time."

Y/s/n frowns. "Aw, why?"

"Because I want to talk with Mama about things that you won't care about. Boring grown-up stuff. Doesn't sound very fun, does it?"

Y/s/n shrugs, still looking uncertain.

"Hey, don't look so down. How about this? I'll go put on Cars for you. How's that sound?"

Your son grins at this, immediately jumping up, his demeanor changing abruptly. "Yeah, yeah!" he squeals, and you watch as Charles leaves with him to go set him up with that in another room.

But soon Charles is back. He gently shuts the door behind him as he enters the room, and immediately sits down next to you, facing you once more. "Hey, Y/n..." he says in a tentative but gentle tone.

You swallow. "Hey, Charles..." You feel yourself getting nervous again. "You're so... You're so good with Y/s/n."

He smiles. "You are, too."

There's no, And I'm sure we'd be even better with him together.

Charles meant it when he said he'd give up on it.

But you move closer to him. You take his hands. "This is a lot for me, Charles. I'm scared. I'm having issues with trust."

He nods slowly. "I know... I know..."

You swallow, and hug him again.

He holds you, hugging you back. He kisses your cheek. He whispers, "I understand if you're afraid. I understand if you're scared, or if you're having issues with trust. I'm so deeply sorry I've broken you like that."

Y/n, people change. And I can change.

The words come crashing into your mind like a ton of bricks, emerging from the depths of your memory.

"Charles-" you break in, your voice cracking. "Those words have haunted me."

"What words...?" he mutters softly.

You swallow. Breathe slowly. And you whisper, "You said to me 'Y/n, people change. And I can change.'"

"I have changed," he whispers.

"But," your voice cracks. "You said a lot of other s***, too. I remember, during our honeymoon..." A tear rolls down your face as Charles continues to hold you. "You said I'm yours and you're mine. You said we'd be forever. You said you'd do anything for me. You said we'd have three kids together, and you'd never stop loving me, and we would be a happy family. You said we'd grow old together, Charles. That's what you said. But all those promises- they were broken... They were broken."

"You didn't want them to be," he whispers calmly. "But don't you realize? Perhaps those promises were not broken, but rather, they have just not yet been fulfilled."

You look up at him, blinking. More tears roll down your cheeks. Charles gently wipes them away.

"I want to be able to fix what I did wrong. I want to be able to fulfill those promises I made to you. That's what I want, Y/n."

"Charles..." you breathe.

He looks so perfect.

"Yes?" he asks gently.

Your lip quivers, and you lean into his shoulder, and you sob.

And he lets you.

For however long, he holds you there, rubbing your back, letting you weep. Finally, you get a hold of yourself, and slowly pull away. You wipe your wet eyes with the backs of your hands, before sighing. "Charles, if we were to do this... If I were to give in..." You sniff. Your voice cracks again as you utter, "Please, don't hurt me again. I can't survive it again. I can't let you put me through that again..."

He pulls you to him again and whispers in your ear, "I won't. I won't. I won't let you down this time. Please don't be afraid of me... I want to love you... Let me love you... If you'll just let me, we can fix this... We have have a relationship in which we communicate more. Oh, Y/n..." he sighs. "Don't you realize how much I care? I- I would give my life for you."

You blink, staring at him.

Everything looks so promising. That's why you're scared.

It almost looks too promising.

"You say you would give your life for me. But would you really? Maybe you would you give your life for me if it meant losing it. But would you give your life to me while you're still alive? Would you clean the dishes? Would you help me when I'm sick? Would you grab an extra ingredient from the store if I needed it? Would you drive Y/s/n to school when you could? Would you really? You're gone half the year, as it is."

His jaw clenches, then un-clenches. "I would do anything and everything I could do for you. I want to share my life for you. Until death. And I'm one hundred percent sure on that. I've had years of thinking about this." There's hope in his lovely eyes.

So much hope.

You sigh, staring down at your lap.

"Y/n. I'm sorry. Please. Not only do I need your forgiveness. But your son does, too." He hesitates. "And I hope you know no matter what happens, the guilt of what I've done to you will weigh on me my whole life. That's why I want to fix it."

You gently slip your hand in his and whisper, "Please don't hurt me."

He wraps his fingers around your hand, holding it. "I won't."

You nod slowly, another tear rolls down your cheek, and it feels like all the molecules in your body are being ripped apart as you barely whisper, "Okay, Charles. We can try this again."

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gummyfang · 11 months

Text

♡♡♡ | ˗ˏˋ Perv König ´ˎ˗

➳　【K ö n i g　ｘ　Ｒｅａｄｅｒ】

❧ Warnings: 𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐰, 𝐠/𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐭 𝐤𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐠, 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: this was SUPPOSED to be headcanons. no clue what happened here, it kinda turn into word vom so if it's kinda shit dont come at me. also I made Konig bi hehe. I had some more ideas but this got a bit long and i got lazy so let me know if you'd like a second part to this ♡

Deprivation of touch and sexual attention is nothing unheard of at a location such as a military base. With little ways to relieve their frustration, most men are forced to resort to fantasy as they rub one out.

König was no different. And really, he didn’t have a problem with it. He was never a man who needed much to get going, the mental image of random men and women enough to have him cum all over his hand. It wasn’t desperation for him, just routine. Masturbation was just what helped him relax after a physically and emotionally taxing day. That is, until you came into the picture.

The first time König saw you, he wasn’t being too weird about you. Just watching KorTac’s rookie members walk on by, as he checked them out one by one, his steely gaze lingered on you.

Maybe it was the way you looked so pathetic, doe-like eyes wide as you shuffled along like a lost little deer. Or perhaps it was the way your combat cargo pants (despite not being meant to fit tightly) hugged nicely around your ass. You’d caught König’s attention.

It wasn't until you approached him that he really started taking interest in you. Being such a large man with a reputation for being ruthless on the battlefield did not make König a very approachable man, and he wasn't exactly keen on mingling with strangers either. So when you approached him for his help with a tangled strap on your gear, he was pleasantly surprised.

You apologized quietly and continuously, embarrassed you had to ask for help from someone with so much more experience so early on. Little did you know König was enjoying himself quite a bit.

With a gruff chuckle, his thick fingers started working on untangling the mess of straps and clasps, making him wonder how the fuck you managed to do this in the first place.

His fingers traced your back gently, the light shudder you tried to hide not going unnoticed to the large man.

God, you looked so fucking cute and petite sitting down under him like this. König's eyelids slid down as he sunk into thoughts, thinking back to your doe-like gaze.

Before he knew it, his fingers slid away from the straps to explore along your body, tracing along your sides. Your shirt moved up a little as he did, exposing your lower back. Your underwear was peaking out from under the waist of your trousers, just enough to let the teasing view settle in his mind. König felt his cock twitch in his pants, wetting his bottom lip with his tongue.

He was grateful he still had his sniper hood up. If anyone could see him, well... he looked fucking depraved.

His name floating from your lips snapped him back out of his trance, his large hands quickly dropping back down. He mutters a shitty excuse about checking the other straps, before finally untangling the mess. He excuses himself, and before you can get another word in, he's seen himself out.

That night, his cock felt ten times as sensitive as usual. König tugged it out of his boxers with little grace before fucking his fist animalistically. Where his mind was usually filled with faceless, nude bodies, the picture in his mind had now taken a clearer shape. It was you.

He thought of your pretty waist, how he could hold onto it as he fucked his cum into you. And that underwear, God.

As he bucked into his fist and the spurts of white liquid made his hand sticky, he knew something changed in him. Jacking off by himself like this wasn't going to keep him satisfied. He needed more.

The depravity got to König quickly. Soon, his masturbation sessions doubled. Where he'd usually only satisfy himself at the end of the day, he now found himself waking him hard as a rock with lewd fantasies of you drifting through his mind. Not bothering to wait until his morning wood dissipated, he instead decided using the material his depraved mind provided him with would be easier anyways.

Soon, when he wasn't busy himself, König could frequently be found overseeing rookie training from a distance, though there was really only one he had eye for.

Could you blame him? You were practically asking to be stared at, the way you kept bending over as if you were begging for him to come over and shove you to the floor and have his way with you right then and there.

Each of your little curves and movements were stored in König's memory, only for him to jack off to later.

At first he'd tried being subtle about it. Although he was drawn to you, there was some shame tied to his actions. Eyeing up a new recruit like this? And this often? People would start talking if he weren't careful.

But slowly, it was like he forgot he was supposed to feel ashamed for this. Where he used to find excuses to go to the training room to seek you out, usually claiming it was his turn to clean the training equipment, he now just started leering at you from the doorway.

After all, it was much easier to look at you where his view wasn't obscured by other rookies or equipment.

Then, eventually, just watching you bend your sweaty body in those positions wasn't enough for König. He needed you. Your essence. Anything that had to do with your body.

He didn't act on it. At least, not at first. König was not stupid. His perverse gazes could land him some social repercussions among his peers, but actually going behind your back to pleasure himself with your belongings? That could get him in serious shit.

But then the opportunity presented itself to him on a silver platter. You'd left the radio on your bed in a hurry, and you wouldn't have enough time to eat if you went out to grab it. But of course kind-hearted König didn't mind getting it for you.

Your barracks were empty. His heavily thudding footsteps echoing off the walls and breathing were the only noises he could hear. Your bed wasn’t hard to spot with the small radio thrown on the pillow.

But as he moved to pick it up, he caught a whiff of your scent. Immediately, his cock twitched in his pants. He’d been growing closer to you, and as he did, your scent became one of many aspects that reminded him of how much you turned him on.

But now, here he was, his stiff member forming a tent in his pants as he stood there, all alone. He felt his ears heat up at the realization what his body and mind were screaming for him to do.

For a moment, he convinced himself to just pick up your radio and force his legs to walk himself back out. But as soon as he leaned over to snatch it off the pillow, his shin bumped against the edge of the bed, and he clumsily tumbled onto the sheets.

As soon as his nose was shoved into the sheets, he knew he was done for.

He knew this was wrong. For the first time since he’d met you, he was struck by feelings of actual shame as he writhed around to make himself comfortable, before pulling his cock out and hurriedly pumping his hand up and down.

As he was lying down on your bed, those scenes of you doing sit-ups in those tightly fit pants started replaying in his mind. He whimpered softly as he pressed his thumb down on the head of his cock, the thought of you sleeping here tonight none the wiser of what happened only made him hornier.

A vein popped up on the back of his hand as the grip on the smooth fabric of the sheets tightened, pressing it over his mouth and nose.

Your scent drove him crazy. It offered him a figment of the proximity he imagined when he stroked his cock to your image every night.

His thumb rolled over the head of his cock, the digit gathering some of the precum leaking out the tip to lube up his rough strokes.

A loud moan muffled by the sheets erupted from his throat before his spend was spilling over his hand and abdomen. Thank fuck he'd pulled up his shirt a little.

A few drops leaked onto your bed, but he couldn't be bothered to clean those up. The thought of you sleeping with his semen under your sheets only turned him on more.

God, he felt so fucking dirty.

He knew he was done for. He'd never cummed this hard before in his life. Every single aspect of you turned him on, he needed you.

But you'd be none the wiser. He'd make sure of that, König thought to himself as he wiped away the fluids. He pulled his pants back up and fixed up your bed, before grabbing the radio and heading back out as if nothing happened.

𝐏𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

@rahmown @catou1305 @johfaam0 @tulipsbymybed

#call of duty #cod #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #konig x reader #konig #könig x reader #könig #♡.mlw #♡.mlm #♡.nsfw #gummyfang

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