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tiza0925 · 23 days

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Hello! I'm new to this but have you ever thought about any of your favorite characters while they're in the act and you look down at a certain part and they're so big on you that it scares you but they're pretty sure it could fit.I don't know if you could write something like that, sorry if it makes you uncomfortable.

hellooo, absolutely love this prompt so much ty for this ♡

men that make it fit | 18+

warnings/tags: nsfw, afab/female!reader, size difference, fingering, pet names, praise kink, squirting, raw sex, implied multiple orgasms, large cocks ♡

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Big men who just cover your entire body with theirs when they’re on top of you.

Guys who make you feel so small when you’re on their lap, their hands are so damn big that they can cover your entire waist, legs, and hands—practically engulfing you.

Big men that just pin you to the mattress while making out with you, they’re so strong without needing to try, and you probably should feel scared by the difference in strengths but god—you feel so secure.

And you know he’ll take care of you even if he can hurt you sometimes—never on purpose unless you want it—because of how massive he is.

Guys who feel just a little bad when they hear you cry from them pushing their thick fingers inside you—stretching your poor cunt and making you leak all over his hand as he curls his fingers inside your plush walls, coaxing out a throbbing orgasm from you.

“Such a sweet little thing for me,” You hear him murmur, watching as your face twists with pleasure, and he can see the slight worry in your eyes as he fucks you with his fingers. “My baby is taking me so well already.”

But can you take his cock?

Fuck—what if it’s too big?

It must be—his fingers are already too much for you—his dick will be nearly impossible to fit inside you.

“You think you can be good and take my cock?” You whine, feeling heady and muddy as he pins both of your hands above your head on the bed, while his other hand continues to twist and curl inside you, his thumb pressing and rubbing your swollen clit. “I want to feel my favourite pussy, sweetheart.”

But you suck in a shaky breath, eyes wide and scared because you know you can’t fit all of him in, and he chuckles breathlessly as he kisses your lips so softly, making you melt against him.

“Don’t be scared,” He kisses your cheek, then gives your trembling lower lip a gentle pull with his mouth, trying to get you relaxed as he strums his fingers through your sopping folds, his voice low and deceptively soothing. “I’ll be gentle with you, okay?”

He always is—and that’s the thing.

No matter how gentle he tries to be—he still ends up stretching you so wide that you think you might actually split in half, the sting of him inside you being too much that you cry sometimes.

He kisses you, and reassures you, hand running up and down your body to spread goosebumps all over your skin.

Then he’s pushing his pants off to let his fat cock bounce free—it lands on your belly, all hot and heavy, and your breath hitches as electricity sparks through your body—and your heart rate doubles with every passing moment, just waiting for him to stuff you with his cock.

“Relax for me,” He says while guiding his dick to slide between your plush pussy, letting your slick folds hug his length and coat them in juices as he rocks his hips—his cock head bumping against your clit every time his hips are flushed against yours.

“You feel that, baby?” Your lashes flutter, your eyes half-lidded as he works you up, making your cunt pulse as he glides his heavy cock over it. “You’re gonna be so good and fit all of me, okay?”

You gulp, but you still nod—because you want to be good for him.

You want to feel him and make him feel good.

And he watches you, focused, taking in every twitch of your features as he slowly pushes the head of his dick inside you—his eyes alight with heat when he sees the way your mouth pops open with a gasp, already feeling the intense stretch of him.

“You’re okay, baby,” he shushes you, sliding his hands under your thighs to guide them around his waist, and you whine as you hook your arms around his neck, bringing him closer, sloppily kissing him as he waits for you to adjust. “You feel so tight already—fuck—”

He groans, his voice vibrating against you, and you begin to breathe heavily as he pushes his fat cock into you—making you feel every agonizing inch as your pussy struggles to swallow him whole.

“I—“ Your sentence gets cut short as you choke, already feeling him in your lungs and he’s only halfway in, “I can’t—”

“You can,” One of his hands comes up to swipe a fallen tear on your cheek with his thumb, while his other hand pins you to the bed by the waist. “I know you can, baby, you always did before.”

Which is true—you always did but—

It’s just so fucking big—holy shit—

You bite your lip, and your eyes squeeze shut as you try your hardest to relax—your fluids being pushed out as he lodges his dick inside your warm, plush walls, causing a wet mess all over your thighs and bed.

You hold him as if you’re clinging onto dear life—taking all of him as he kisses you through it—until his hips finally press against your ass, his cock so deep that your limbs grow numb and you swear you can orgasm already.

“There you go, sweetheart,” He purrs, waiting a moment as your pussy throbs around him, feeling abused and soaked, and he smiles down at you so achingly soft. “Taking me all like a good girl for me.”

Then he pulls back—

“Oh god—” And you keen when he rocks his hips forward, sliding his cock along your walls, and he sets a pace of fucking you—getting you wet and your eyes to roll back as he becomes greedy with your pussy.

“Look, baby,” He grunts, thrusting his cock in and out, his length coming out slick and creamy from your arousal, and he grips your face—fingers squishing your cheeks—to make you look down. “Look how well you’re taking me.”

Your vision is foggy, you’re barely able to comprehend anything except for the dick inside your sore cunt, and you blink blearily as you try to look at what he wants you to see and—

Fuck.

You watch the way his cock disappears into your pussy, his girth forcing its way into you—and you let out a shaky breath at the way you’re taking it all in.

Just like he said you would.

“Told you I’ll make it fit, sweetheart, I always do,” You hear him murmur, and you force yourself to relax into a ragged breath as your limps melt into the mattress beneath you.

You feel like you’re being split in half as he fucks you over and over, bringing you higher and higher until you’re cumming all over him—gushing out liquid as you squirt on his cock with a wet moan, his name on your tongue—

And he takes good care of you throughout it all. His aftercare overwhelms you with cuddles of love and affirmation.

He loves you too much, anyway.

End.

Bokuto, Oikawa, Ushijima, Atsumu, Suna, Gojo, Choso, Sakusa, Geto, Sukuna, Nanami, Akaza, Oda, Kuroo, Hinata, plus any of your fav characters ♡

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ma1dita · 4 months

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bedtime stories

a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: bitch this was supposed to be a blurb. 2.4k

summary: (pre-established relationship) The one where night shift with him runs late, but you don't mind at all. You won’t admit a lot of things to Luke Castellan, but perhaps he knows something you don’t. Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader

warnings: none, banter and fluff on a night shift

a/n: Introducing luke castellan x trouble!reader… this is just gonna be ongoing blurbs and one shots of an idea in my head (and my latest hyperfixation) reader is essentially reformed unhinged bitch now camp mom and it’s enemies to friends to lovers. Working through reading the pjo series hehe

(posted 1/16/24, beta’ed by the lovely @ttulipwritezz @mrsaluado & @lixzey thank you bunches)

—

Dragging your feet across the dirt of the forest floor, you sigh to yourself in the quiet night air. It’s gonna be another long night and with the beep on your digital watch, you blearily peer at the time and sigh. Almost 11. Swaying slightly, you whistle a familiar tune as your nimble hands straighten out the deck chairs near the firepit, pick up trash to toss into the receptacle, and turn off the lights in the dining hall. All on the way to check Cabin 7, mind you, and the Apollo kids will undoubtedly loop you into singing a song with them before you shut the lights off and close the curtains.

Gods, your dad is definitely gonna hear about this in the morning.

It’s not like Mr. D ever really cares, or listens, more focused on droning on about missing his wife and playing pinochle even when you rattle off his…your to-do list for the week to keep Camp Half-Blood running and the younger demigods in mostly one piece. Honestly, he should be grateful he has you, and even if he is, he’ll never let you hear it. At least you’re Chiron’s favorite.

A shadow passes your field of view, and before you can rub at your sleepy eyes, strong hands pin you to the side of a tree on the dirt path you were supposed to take across camp.

Sorry, let’s correct that—you’re one of Chiron’s favorites. The other all-star camper stares at you like you’re a three-headed dog under the beam of his flashlight.

“Just me, Castellan,” you grumble, a bit winded as you blink harshly at the bright light. “Still doing checks.”

“You’re losing your touch. You making a habit of going to bed late?” Luke smirks, and it’s actually annoying how he always looks like he knows something you don’t.

“You always pin campers to trees?”

“Just the pretty ones.” His smirk turns into a sly grin that makes you roll your eyes.

“Okay loser, I’ve got cabins to check,” you drone as you push off from the tree. “6 cut into my time after staying there longer than I had to. The little ones kept asking these otherworldly philosophical questions and Annabeth just laughed at me while I tried to not pluck my eyelashes out one by one.”

Your clipboard taps lightly against your hip despite the aggression in your voice and Luke laughs much like his little sister, a burst of sunlight overflowing into the dreary and mundane. Your lips quirk upward before you can stop and remind yourself of who you’re talking to. The tall boy reaches behind him to scratch the nape of his neck and sighs, sucking at his teeth.

“You’re always doing the most, huh?”

“Who else is going to, my dad? He’s probably already out like a light.” Once, you found your dad asleep at his desk after dinner, snoring loudly instead of keeping watch. You started taking more night shifts after that.

“Well, no. You know I’m here to help you, even if you’ll never admit it.” Luke extends a hand to you so it’s easier to navigate the step back onto the dirt-trodden path, but there’s no fun in that, so you hop around him and start walking away. The sound of his footsteps fall and match yours as he follows you, both in tandem like the sound of a steady heartbeat.

“The day you catch me admitting anything about you is the day the Underworld freezes over. You should know that by now.”

“Woooooow, so I don’t get a thank you for singing the Apollo kids to sleep? You should’ve seen the look on their faces when I walked in and not you. They ended the song pretty quickly after I opened my mouth to croak out a chorus,” he says, drawing his bottom lip between his teeth and nudging your side as you both laugh.

He’s a terrible singer, to be honest. Not even the Fates would’ve expected that from someone who otherwise seems like a perfect boy. Sometimes you wonder what he’s done in a past life to have it so easy–to look like he’s been chiseled by Michelangelo, have the athletic prowess of ten Spartan soldiers, and the heart of a hero only legends could get right. He’s probably the closest thing to an actual hero here at camp. You often find yourself looking at him in hopes of finding a crack in the porcelain of his perfection, but any fault of his seems to just build up his endurance in his quest for glory.

Maybe that’s why your dad doesn’t like him, his aspirations for something greater than the camp that’s kept you safe all these years, though the multiple complaints and headaches the both of you have given him as squabbling teenagers must’ve added onto that. Sometimes, though, the way he helps ease your load prods a funny feeling you do your best not to acknowledge in your stomach. Luke walks ahead shining the flashlight onto the dark path so you both don’t trip. It’s there now, at the sight of him offering an arm for you to latch onto to hop over fallen branches.

Mental note: tell the satyrs to move that in the morning.

As you hurdle over the brambles, you let go immediately after you steady your feet, moving his hand that’s holding the flashlight back towards the path with no other words. You are your father’s daughter after all, and he knows this—stubborn and your name have the same face.

Moving further towards your destination, the light reveals a teenage couple entangled within each other’s arms at the base of a tree out there for everyone to see in the moonlight.

“Jeez, guys, alright— pack it up, wrap it up! Could’ve at least found somewhere private… It’s curfew already, if I see you two again it’s a citation.”

The boy blushes and mumbles an apology to you, scurrying back to cabin 7, and you raise an eyebrow at a sheepish son of Hermes who swears they were all in their beds when he was singing to them.

“I don’t wanna go back to my cabin, all the boys are gross…” the girl whines, cheeks flushed from embarrassment as she flutters her eyelashes at you and Luke. You sigh. What has the world come to that young demigods are entrusted to the care of two people who barely consider themselves adults?

“Well, if you’re still in 11 with this one,” you simper, blatantly pointing at Luke, “I can’t blame you. He’s gross. Come by mine tomorrow and I’ll get you privacy curtains, okay? Trust me Yvonne, you don’t think boys are all that gross if you like kissing them.”

She nods, smiling charmingly at the two of you, before brushing past Luke and winking, “See you inside!”

Your head swivels to look at Luke with a coy expression, “There’s no way she’s not an Aphrodite.”

Luke huffs as he clicks his flashlight on and off. His hands are always fidgeting, always searching for something to do. He’s more like his dad than he thinks, carrying the quieter traits of quick fingers and more obvious ones like his constant search for amusement. Talking to you consistently satiates that itch.

“Aphrodite isn’t the only god that attracts attractive people, you know.”

“Oh? Do tell, because if she’s one of you, your cabin’s gonna be extra trouble,” your mouth curves into a smile, and he thinks he likes it more when you’re trying to be mean to him like this because the back and forth between you two is a comfort Luke cherishes. The words have lost their bite over the years, and there are no more cuts and bruises besides an occasional wounded ego, but it’s still entertaining, to say the least. He can’t imagine a day without hearing the teasing lilt of your voice, always easy to prod at and always wanting to have the last word.

“My dad is the god of thieves and messengers. We’re fast, smart, charming, and also good-looking. Do the math.”

“Also apparently the ones with the biggest egos, but okay.” There it is. He shoves you and you trip over your own feet falling fast.

“Hey! Jerk.”

“Definitely a daughter of Dionysus, crazy as always, and clumsy too.” Luke’s nose crinkles at the sight of your crumpled frame.

“Your hand is like the size of my face, what the fuck was I supposed to do with that?”

A fleeting thought in the back of your mind reasons that maybe violence is the answer, but he’s still not finished making fun of you even after he helps you up.

“And vulgar! What a shocker.”

“Ugh. You better hope your dad stops populating because if there’s any more that come here and act like you? I’m quitting.”

Luke watches you gaze at the heavens, probably looking for a fuck to give and he snickers at how easily you give in nowadays. Maybe he’s the one losing his touch—usually you’d put up more of a fight to argue.

“You wouldn’t. You love this job. Camp. S’why you’re not as fun anymore, trouble.”

A noise of agreement leaves you as you glare at him and the stupid nickname back from when you used to wreak havoc just because you could, a direct juxtaposition to the honorary position you hold today. Finally following him up the front steps of Cabin 11, Luke opens the door and beckons you in, pushing at your hip with his knuckles.

Checking this place last has become a habit with Luke helping you out, and all the kids—Hermes’, minor gods’, and unclaimed, love it when you come to stop by before lights out. They especially loved the later bedtime, but hugs and cool stories from you were a close second.

“Everyone good and ready for bed in here? Sorry it took so long guys,” you say, visually scanning the perimeter and matching faces to bunks, seeing them all settled beneath their sheets, all except for one Luke Castellan. He’s still leaning against the doorframe, breath grazing your shoulder as he hands you a copy of his log from the other cabins he kindly relieved you from.

“What, no bedtime story this time?” He says through hooded eyes, and though he won’t admit it, he adores the sound of your voice. Luke does anything he can to get your attention to hear it more. It almost has a calming effect on him, and maybe it’s the fact that your dad can cause and cure madness, anxiety, and all alike, so something in him believes you do the same, powers or not. One look from him has you sputtering out snarky remarks; different strategies, same results—works every time.

“Castellan…” He grins at the look on your face, and tiny voices pop up from around the cabin, all asking for a bedtime story. Chris even starts a chant from his top bunk, making you want to hurl your clipboard at his head. Hypnos is calling your name at this point, and you’d do anything to crawl into your own safe haven in Cabin 12, but your heartstrings pull at the sight of the little ones pouting, hoping for you to tuck them in with a blanket of comforting words and stories of something more than what these walls meagerly provide. Camp Half-Blood only keeps them safe for so long, and not a lot of them make it out of here alive. You and Luke both know that being two of the oldest at camp, and his smug expression as he settles into his bed is confirmation that you’re about to give in.

“Fine. One quick story, and then everyone goes to sleep okay? Who wants to sit on the floor with me?”

You take your place sitting on the ground next to the foot of Luke’s bunk as he lays upside down on the twin-sized mattress, peering at you through one open eye as the younger children, mostly the unclaimed ones—drag their blankets and form a circle in the middle of the room, waiting patiently for you to start enchanting them with something to occupy their tired minds. Acting— that’s the gift your father had to give you; this time you decide to tell the story of Atalanta and the golden apples, how she ran from love and it still found her in the end, and how some stories can have good endings, despite what’s often found in Greek legend. Multiple tired eyes droop closed as you finish the story and carry the ones who’ve fallen into Hypnos’ embrace back into their bunks, tucking them in with kisses on their foreheads and it leaves you with a warm feeling that will help you brave the chill on your walk back.

Admittedly, this next part is your favorite part on nights like these. The overflowing cabin of rowdy pranksters and babbling children is as quiet as the secret you hold close to your heart, tiptoeing back towards Luke’s space and draping his blanket over his muscular frame, exhausted from another day of trying to achieve greatness. Your hand brushes a dark curl away from his forehead, fingertips ghosting his pale skin like a kiss you’d never have the guts to give. With everything you have in you, you summon thoughts of serenity and peace, hoping whatever keeps him up at night lets him rest for even a few hours. You don’t pray often, finding yourself spiting your father instead of honoring him on most days, but in the dim light of Cabin 11, you find yourself making time to do so for a pain in your ass called Luke Castellan.

Perhaps he knows something you don’t after all, the crease in his forehead relaxing as you pull your fingertips away.

“Sweet dreams, angelface.”

Mental note: Put his ass to work tomorrow for falling asleep halfway through the story.

It’ll only give him another excuse to ask you to tell it again a few nights later. You find yourself not minding that, a sliver of a smile pulling at your face as you walk towards the door and shut the lights off, a sleeping son of Hermes illuminated by the gentle shine of the moon.

You’d never admit that, though.

—

“you steady me and stir me

all at once.”

-Tanya Wright

ask to be added to luke/general taglist!

luke taglist (some won't let me tag, turn on my post notifs?): @kissingyourgrl @dorcas4meadowes @lorarri @andrewgarfldsgf @noodlesketchbook @10ava01 @poppysrin @ashisabitgay @timhalamet @liv1104 @leeknows-wife @mxtokko @bugcuti3 @luvvfromme @midmourn @2hiigh2cry @yuminako @niktwazny303 @lukecastellandefender @intergalactic-padawan @iliketopgun @annybah @dangelnleif @thegrinningghost @alyssajunelle @obxstiles @m00ng4z3r @visndcaitswhore @b0ok-lover @elegant-face-tree @this-barbie-is-having-breakdowns @amortencjja @idonevenknow1359 @maliaaaa @targaryenluvs @sakyira @dhdjdjjdhsjdiri @number-onekidqueen @nininehaaa @bradynoonswife @stevenknightmarc @hoodedhavok @happy-mushrooms @homebyeleven @anotherblackreader @too-deviant @liviessun @lilacspider @theadventuresofanartist @sucker4seresin @simpforsunwoo @zanzie @starrystormwritings

#luke castellan x dionysus!reader #luke castellan x reader #pjo imagine #luke castellan fanfic #luke castellan x reader fanfic #made by ma1dita ♥︎#trouble!verse #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo x reader #luke castellan fluff #thank you for reading my love ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

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steddiejudas · 5 months

Text

STWG Daily Drabble 11/29/23

prompt: modern au

Eddie is harshly woken by his phone ringing at— JESUS christ, 4:30 AM.

The number isn’t saved in his contacts, and normally he would just let it ring or hang up the call so he could go back to sleep, but his brain is a little fried so early in the morning so he answers it like a reflex.

“Hello?” he asks. He can hear the sleep in his own voice and hopes to god this call isn’t something important that his slow, rough voice will make him look bad for.

“Robin!!”

A very loud, very drunk voice screams the name Eddie doesn’t recognize into the line. He lacks the wherewithal to really sus out what’s happening, so he summons every ounce of intelligence to the best of his ability to mutter: “huh?”

“Robbie I’m so drunk and my phone died. The bartender let me use his to call you. come pick me up.”

The guy is whining directly into Eddie’s ear. it should be annoying, should be grating to his sleep-addled brain, but he can’t help but think he sounds cute.

“Uh, hey man, this isn’t Robin. I think you got the wrong number,” Eddie says.

The guy on the other end of the line goes silent, and Eddie imagines he’s pouting over there, probably too drunk to remember he needs to speak into the phone.

“Hey,” he says. “You okay? Are you going to be able to call this Robin person?”

“I did,” the guy whines again. “You’re not Robin.”

“No, I definitely am not. I’m Eddie. And who are you?”

“I’m Steve. Will you please come pick me up?”

He considers this, chuckling lightly to himself. This Steve sure is trusting. Eddie could be a murderer just waiting for a cute boy like Steve to call him up, and he says as much, but apparently all Steve hears is:

“You think I'm cute? Wait, how can you tell? Are you in the walls or something?”

Is he in the walls? Jesus this guy really is ass blasted, huh. And Eddie can’t leave a fellow bad late night decision maker to fend for himself, can he?

“You sound cute enough sweetheart. sit tight, I'll be there in 15 minutes.”

“mmkay!” Steve sounds purely elated to have Eddie on the way, and hangs up before he has the chance to confirm where he is. It’s no matter really, there’s only one bar in the area that’s open this late, and it seems the bartender picked up on that lacking piece of information as his phone pings with a location pin a minute later.

It’s one of Eddie’s usual haunts so he gets there in 10, familiar with the route and aided by the complete lack of traffic at this hour.

He wonders if in the last 10 minutes Steve has forgotten all about him. He is just a stranger he drunk dialed after all, and Steve’s so far gone his short term memory must be nothing at this point.

But when he pulls up and enters the building, he sees the most beautiful face he’s ever seen alone at the bar. He hopes to any god that will listen that Steve at least remembers his enthusiasm about getting home so he can see the way that elation shows on his handsome features. The bartender who’s been babysitting, and appears to be forcing him to drink water, points to the door and Steve turns around, his face alighting with all the brilliance of precious gemstones.

“Eddie!” He shouts, throwing himself off the stool to stumble over to him. He nearly falls to the ground, but Eddie is there to hold him up.

Their faces are inches apart, and Eddie can’t help but notice the way his drunkenness flushes his cheeks, giving the scattering of moles across his cheeks a beautiful backdrop.

“Hey pretty boy. Let’s get you home, okay? Where do you live?”

“With Robin,” Steve says, his face betraying the fact that he really thinks that’s the answer Eddie needs.

“Mhm,” Eddie patiently hums. “And where does Robin live?”

“With me, silly.”

“Oh boy, you’re really out of it. Why don’t I take you back to my place, get some food in you, charge up your phone, and we’ll go from there.”

“Is food the only thing I'll get in me?” Steve asks, pressing in closer to Eddie’s grasp.

It startles a laugh out of him. One that starts deep in his chest and rolls through his body, throwing his head back and shaking his shoulders.

“Steve, you barely know me. You’re just lucky I happen to be a very nice, very respectful guy, who is going to

feed you and nothing. else.”

Steve pouts a little as Eddie puts an arm around his waist and pulls him out to the car, loading him in the passenger seat and buckling him in.

It seems Steve has zoned out on the ride, either lulled by the movements or, god forbid, incredibly carsick. Either way he sits in silence with his face pressed against the cool glass while Eddie lets him be alone with his thoughts for the short drive home.

Getting up the stairs to Eddie’s apartment is a challenge. It’s like Steve is doing his absolute best to go ass over tea kettle down them. Eddie braces himself behind him, hands on his waist to keep him steady, trying his absolute darndest to ignore the lines of hard muscle under his sweater.

Now is NOT the time.

They make it inside with little incident, Eddie plopping Steve down on the couch to disappear into the kitchen after fishing Steve’s phone out of his pocket and plugging it in next to him.

“So, I’m not much of a cook,” Eddie hollers. “But how do you feel about grilled cheese?”

No answer comes.

“Steve?”

Nothing.

Eddie peeks out of the kitchen to find a snoring Steve, sprawled out on the couch like a starfish. Somehow he’s even cuter like this. It brings a fond smile to Eddie’s face as he covers him in a blanket, tucks a pillow under his head and leaves a trash can by his side just in case.

It’s almost 5:30 now, and the exhaustion hits him all at once. Eddie gives the man sawing logs on his couch one last once over before going back to his own bed and crashing, hoping for at least another hour or two of sleep.

When he wakes, it’s with an unexpected sense of excitement, expecting Steve to be on his couch ready to have a coherent conversation and a real introduction, but when he makes his way out to the living room, Steve is gone, his pillow stacked on top of the neatly folded blanket.

He shouldn’t be sad about this. Steve is, after all, just a stranger who was drunk and couldn’t even remember his own address. He was probably embarrassed, confused, hell maybe even scared to be waking up in a stranger’s house with vague memories of how he got there. He tries to focus on that aspect of the situation, rather than his own disappointment. He does not succeed.

Eddie sits down on the couch, in the very same spot Steve laid his head the night before and wraps himself up in the blanket. He buries his face in it, inhaling the faint scent Steve left on it and wonders why he even cares. It wasn’t as if they had some big whirlwind romance in the span of the hour they were together; but Steve was so sweet, so cute, so excited to see him after speaking on the phone for just a couple minutes. It wasn’t anything more than a random act of kindness, but maybe Eddie wanted it to be.

It’s as Eddie is thinking it over that his phone pings with a message. Eddie groans, it’s probably just Gareth, or maybe the bartender from last night checking that everyone is safe. Though even that is wishful thinking. He checks anyway, trying his best to tamp down any wishful thinking until he sees the unknown number on his screen with one simple word.

[463-291-8275]: Thanks.

Eddie feels a lump in his throat, his chest filling up like a balloon. He doesn’t know what to do, what to say, doesn’t even know if it is Steve, but shit he fucking hopes so.

[Eddie]: Steve? How did you get my number again?

[463-291-8275]: Uhhh… i definitely didn’t try like 10 variations of Robin’s phone number to find the one number i mistyped when i accidentally called you last night

Eddie frantically adds the number to his contacts before texting back, thanking whatever powers that be for giving him another shot.

[Eddie]: Wow I must have left quite the impression on you Stevie 😏

[Drunk Steve 🥵]: you could say that

Eddie smirks to himself, trying to ignore the blush that warms his face at Steve’s words. He tries to come up with what to say next, how to segue into asking him out on a date, but before he can, his phone buzzes with more messages from Steve.

[Drunk Steve 🥵]: so i know this might seem a little strange since we barely talked before i passed out in a drunk heap on your couch

[Drunk Steve 🥵]: thanks for not killing me btw

[Drunk Steve 🥵]: but um would you maybe want to hang out sometime?

Eddie jumps up from the couch, pumping his fist in the air like he just won the lottery. then, like he’s just remembering he lives alone, he yells at no one in particular: “FUCK! YES!” There’s an angry knock on the wall from his neighbor, but he doesn’t care in the slightest.

[Eddie]: idk about that Stevie

He goes to reply in his typical teasing fashion, but Steve’s reply comes in immediately before he can finish the thought.

[Drunk Steve 🥵]: oh

[Drunk Steve 🥵]: i totally get it

[Drunk Steve 🥵]: last night was probably weird for you

[Drunk Steve 🥵]: feel free to block my number i’m so sorry

[Eddie]: Woah, slow your roll there big boy!

[Eddie]: I said I'm not so sure about hanging out with you.

[Eddie]: But only because I’d rather take you out on a date

[Drunk Steve 🥵]: oh

[Drunk Steve 🥵]: Oh!

[Drunk Steve 🥵]: date! yes! date is good

[Drunk Steve 🥵]: i’d love to go on a date!

[Drunk Steve 🥵]: better even

[Drunk Steve 🥵]: i was fighting demons trying not to kiss you in the car last night

Eddie has to set his phone down so he doesn’t throw it to the ground and shatter it, opting instead to fist his hands in the pillow Steve used last night and shove it in his face to scream. He has to regain his composure before he texts back, doing his best to keep cool.

[Eddie]: A date it is then. Can’t wait sweetheart ❤️

#stwgdailyprompt #steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #modern au #wowza can you believe i haven’t done a daily prompt in over a month #this one just spoke to me idk

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vyglitchcraft · 7 months

Note

Since requests are open, can you write for havik, shao, Scorpion and sub zero with a size kink SFW and NSFW headcanons? ʕʘ‿ʘʔ

YES BITCH I WILL, you have good taste in men hot DAMN also yes putting their canon heights just so you can imagine it (atleast before MK1 assuming they didn't change the height)

Sizing Up (18+)

MK1 Shao, Havik, Bi-Han, Kuai Liang x gen!reader size kink headcanons

Warning: Havik's section has mentions of gore and more extreme fetishes

General Shao (7'2 ft)

SFW

This hunk of muscles love to show off his build, he is VERY proud of it. Like the type of douchebag in the gym that would flex in front of the mirror type of guy. And you love every second of it

He likes to show off, that's just a thing that Shao likes in every timeline. He likes to pick you up and just point out how small and light you are, how you're lucky to have him because someone can just pick you up and run off with you

He's a bit of a jerk but you should expect that when you dated him. He constantly teases you about your height and he'll make sure you will NOT forget that you're short. Jars on the highest shelf, every lid is screwed on a bit TOO tight, you can't seem to find any stools to stand on so that means only one thing, you're forced to ask him for help and he would HAPPILY do it with a shit eating grin on his face

He LOVES it when you do a size comparison between you and him, especially with your hands, he thinks its so precious that he can just hold both of your hands with only one of his

He went FERAL when he saw you in his clothes

NSFW

When i say this man is huge EVERYWHERE i mean it, you wouldn't be exaggerating when you compare it to your arm.

"Are you sure? I could break you" is something he constantly says. He loves to lay his cock right on top of your stomach, just admiring just how deep he could reach. Heck it scares you sometimes too, i mean who wouldn't?

But all those feelings are gone when you feel that delicious stretch as he slowly pushes his cock into you. He loves to compare you to a sex toy just because he could just hold your torso with one hand and just use you. He is VERY degrading in bed but god does he love you too.

"So pathetic, did it reach your brain too? Look at me while i use you" even when the two of you are doing it sitting down, you only reach his chest.

He loves to see the outline of his cock on your stomach, he's amazed that someone as small as you can take something that big.

You're practically getting tossed around from position to position, you're gonna get manhandled like a sack of potatoes

Havik (6'4 ft)

SFW

Also messes with you but more just because it causes chaos. Although he doesn't care about his height unlike Shao, he is absolutely fixated by the fact that you're so small compared to him. He thinks you're adorable and wants to bite your head off.

Chews on your hair. You're probably the perfect height for him to lay his head on top of yours. Your hair gets into his mouth sometimes and he likes chewing on it.

He likes to hold onto you, he wants you to carry him around because he thinks it's funny that someone THAT small can carry a man his height. So yes you're here giving this man a piggy back ride while he chews on your hair. Look don't expect maturity from HIM of all people.

Also likes to carry you everywhere and put everything (including you) on a really high shelf, why? Because chaos.

"I can throw you" "Havik WHY" "what if i throw you across the arena so you can attack people from behind" "WHY WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT"

He's big but he acts like he's small, he either is NOT aware of his height or just does it to mess with you, could be both.

NSFW

Cute aggression but kinky. That's all i can say about him.

But anyway he likes to point out certain details that just make you want to cover your face. He appreciates that you're so easily pinned down. Your feet aren't touching the ground if you're getting fucked on a table or some other random surface.

Please be warned, the man has no filter. His dirty talk is explicit and isn't for the faint of heart.

Goes fucking FERAL when he sees your stomach bulging from his cock. How you can barely handle anything yet you do, easily too. He loves it. "I wonder if i pull out fast enough, i could pull your intestines inside out"

"I can feel myself hitting your lungs, do you like it?" he's exaggerating but he loves how you're basically choking from the pleasure. Although if you're genuinely uncomfortable or hurt, he will stop. As chaotic as he is, he doesn't want to see you hurt or at worst die.

Loves it when you're the dominant one though. He's a switch. He likes it when someone weak like you can overpower him (if you can't, he likes to pretend) you can do anything to him, he can regenerate any part of his body.

Bi-Han (6'2 ft)

SFW

Overbearing as fuck. He treats you like you're just this small vulnerable rabbit. He feels the need to always protect you, i mean someone your size surely can't protect themselves right? That's why you have him! If you think he's overprotective, he's even more so when you're small

You're a porcelain doll to him, one wrong move and you'll be hurt. Although he's very gentle, he's also like a predator, almost a yandere. You're spoiled, he's the grandmaster, who's gonna stop him from using the Lin Kuei's money for you. But you ain't gonna do shit without him "protecting" you

Since every ninja is around 6'2 (except Tremor and Reptile i think) so you bet your ass you can't reach shit but don't worry, Bi-Han is there to help you. You won't be lifting a finger when he's around.

Oh but don't think he's all soft, his anger is fucked. He uses his size to intimidate people, standing behind you like a shadow. Or having you on his lap like a pet.

Your size means you're also easily movable. He uses this to his advantage to just carry you around or pick you up if he needs you.

NSFW

Again, predator/prey. He absolutely takes advantage of the fact that you're so weak compared to him. The way he can make you whine with one of his fingers, gives him an ego boost. "I can't wait to stretch you to the limits"

Everything about him screams possessive and the fact that you look so small and weak compared to him makes it even worse. The fact that he can just wrap his hand around your whole neck. The fact that you cry every time he fucks you, he lives for it.

He'll pin you down, bite you, everything that you'll love today but regret tomorrow. His grip is bruising but no worries, he'll make sure to take care of you after it. His hands would be cold enough to soothe the pain

Seeing you grip onto him, how he overpowers you and you're hugging him as if he's the only person that could keep you safe. God he could go another round just from seeing it.

Kuai Liang (6'2 ft)

SFW

Not as obsessive as his brother, he's respectful. He loves you and he'll make sure you know it. He wants you to feel protected but not scared. Although he discourages you from fighting because he's scared that you'll get overpowered.

He's pretty self aware about his height but he won't make it your problem.

He LOVES it when you wear his clothes or any oversized shirt. He just wants to choke you with his chain and hug you until you can't breathe.

He likes to hold your face with both of his hands and just squish your cheeks. His hands pretty much cover your face. Oh and he doesn't mind carrying you everywhere he goes, it's embarrassing but if you want him to do it, he'll handle the teasing, as long as you're happy.

Does that thing where he just puts his hands on your face, grabbing your head like a basketball. He isn't really thinking about anything, he just does it sometimes. Also accidentally gained the reflex of having to crouch just to go face to face with you. Yes its a bit degrading but he'll snap out of it and go back to his normal position.

NSFW

The fact that you're so light and small compared to him makes it so easy for him to just pin you against a wall. He loves the sense of power that he has over you. You're so vulnerable and he could just defeat you.

To his dismay, he's pretty similar to his brother but much more merciful and less degrading. "So small, so weak, i could just break you"

He would tie you up with his chains and just let you warm up his cock, his big arms wrapping around your neck while he studies in his room. His hand would wander down, cupping your stomach or thighs. Feeling your head lean back on his chest while you beg for him to move.

In his mind, you're like a pocket pussy, a cute toy but he would never mention it. He has a filter but his mind does not. He would love to see you beg that he's too big, that it hurts, your hole not closing up after he's done with you, he wants to see it but he would never say it to you, its too embarrassing.

Your small frame when you go all limp after a session looks so adorable that he just wants to hold your hips down and use you until you're all loose and open. "I'll mold you into my shape, i need you to be mine" he pants out, biting your shoulder, he really is similar to his brother even if he denies it.

#mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat 1 #bi han #shao kahn #general shao #kuai liang x reader #kuai liang #scorpion x reader #scorpion #sub zero x reader #sub zero #mk havik #havik #havik x reader #bi han x reader #shao kahn x reader #general shao x reader

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batterygarden · 2 months

Text

love is in the air . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

contents: big bro! yuuta x fem & afab reader, dead dove do not eat, sex pollen, incest, virginity loss (reader), drugged sex vibes, unprotected sex w cream pies, size kink w slight pain, oral f!receiving, overstimulation, dacryphilia, 3.2 k words. hbd to my king

18+, minors dni please

When Yuuta’s teleported into his room, he’s horrified to see you already there.

You’re wearing his clothes, as per usual, and flopped across his bed while you do your homework—likely waiting for him to get home to help you with the math. Normally, this wouldn’t be out of the ordinary; the two of you have always been close and Yuuta doesn’t mind the way you tend to loiter. The thing is, you were supposed to be out shopping with your girlfriends after class today. You’ve been talking up these plans all month–-Yuuta never imagined you’d cancel.

And here he is, high off his ass on cursed aphrodisiacs (misted straight into his lungs by some flower monster) and contemplating every forbidden fantasy in his arsenal with a newfound urgency.

You jump nearly a foot in the air when you see him, so perfectly still and silent at first that he goes unnoticed.

“Oh my god, nii-san! You scared me!”

You don’t seem to catch how off he is yet, how labored his breaths come or how he’s covered in a sheen of sweat. He wishes you would. Maybe then the proper alarm bells would be ringing and you’d leave.

Yuuta only backs away, shoving hair from his face while his eyes dart all over the room, anywhere to avoid drifting to your body and the way his t-shirt pools around it.

His fatal mistake is his failure to beeline it straight out his bedroom door. In his defense, Yuuta’s thoughts are awfully foggy, and an escape route is hard to pin down, even within his moderately-sized room. Instead he trips over a book bag and lets himself tumble backwards to the floor, his katana thunking loudly when it drops from his shoulder.

His vision and hearing are a bit foggy, too, as he watches you approach him off his bed, almost appearing to move in slow motion.

“Nii-San? What happened to you?”

He makes a strangled sound when you reach to touch his face, leaning away from your hand.

“Just lost my balance! I’m okay. Y’shouldn’t touch me right now.”

Did his words come out slurred?

You frown, letting him know the fall wasn’t what you meant when you were asking, practically pinning him against the wall to feel his forehead.

“Hmm. I can’t tell if you have a fever or you’re just hot.”

“It’s probably nothing. Was fighting a curse earlier and—achoo!“

Yuuta turns away to sneeze just as you move your head to the side to look at him closer. He accidentally sneezes directly into your face, earning a little gasp.

He scoots away frantically then.

“Sorry, sorry! I don’t wanna get you sick, okay? I need to be alone. You can leave.”

You wipe at your face, holding back a giggle at the state of him. You haven’t seen Yuuta this impaired since he had the flu when you were kids.

“Nii-san, you need me to take care of you.” Your tone is matter of fact, but doting too. Deep down you’re relishing in this role reversal—Yuuta’s always the one looking after you, not the other way around.

He starts shaking his head, rubbing tiredly at his eyes when suddenly a wave of vertigo hits you.

Then you’re tumbling to the floor with him.

Your voice sounds far away when you breathe a little woah, taking longer than you should to register what’s just happened. When you do, you turn to Yuuta—a reflex whenever you’re hurt or something goes wrong—you’ve grown spoiled by his overprotective nature. So much so that even the tiniest stumbles have you expecting a warm, calloused hand beneath your elbow, lifting and steadying you.

Yuuta takes longer than he should to come into the focus of your eyes, and when he does you find his face buried in one of his hands while his other adjusts his pants.

“Are you okay?” He sounds breathless, making no move to touch you or help. Something is seriously up.

“Mhm. I don’t know why I just…” You pause, almost forgetting what you’re even saying while your thoughts navigate a new fog. Suddenly you’re warm. “I dunno what came over me.”

Yuuta only scoots a bit farther away in response, dragging himself along the wall. To you it’s almost like he’s moving in slow motion.

“Nii-san, something is wrong. I feel wrong.”

Yuuta’s breaths come in huffs when you drag yourself to him then, nuzzling your way between his bent legs.

“M-me too… that’s why I want you to go.”

You shake your head, staring at Yuuta while he stares back, squirming and uncomfortable under your gaze. The warmth inside you is starting to grow uncomfortable—almost painful between your legs. You wonder if this is exactly how Yuuta’s feeling before you consider the possibility that he may be even worse, having been infected with whatever strange illness this is before he even arrived. He’s really working to hold out on you—what a gentleman.

In fact, you think, that might be the perfect word to describe your sweet big brother. Always looking out for you more than anyone else, Yuuta sets a bar for chivalry unattainable by any man who isn’t him.

He’s always opening your doors and offering you rides. Holding your hand to cross the street, tugging you back if you try to cross without looking and, occasionally, shoving your tangled fingers in his coat pocket if it’s chilly. He always has this protective nature when other men are involved, glaring at wandering eyes and warning you of potential danger (you recall one time he tripped some guy who asked for your number as he was walking away—he was too old for you and clearly had bad intentions).

Then there’s the way he’s thoughtful. Even when you were kids, Yuuta was always getting you gifts, setting time aside from his busy schedule to play with you or take you somewhere—forging some of your favorite memories growing up. You think particularly fondly of all your old dance recitals—how yuuta would always make time to be there and give you flowers and praise (out of all the bouquets your family supplied, his were the only ones that ever earned a spot on your night stand).

Even now you’ve got a vase of pink roses in your bedroom down the hall for passing your latest algebra test.

Yeah, Yuuta’s a chivalrous brother to a tee.

And the heat in your veins has you wishing he’d be anything but.

“Y-yuuta. I need you.” Your hands reach to pull at the open buttons of his uniform, but your wrists are quickly shackled by strong hands, gentle but unyielding.

“Do you know what you’re asking?” His voice is steady for the first time since appearing in his room, albeit a little pained.

“Yes. Yeah I do.”

You scoot closer, and Yuuta’s entire aura seems to change, darkening in a way that leaves goosebumps crawling across your flesh.

Your wrists are freed but you still feel immobilized as Yuuta grabs you carefully by the neck then, tugging your face to his till his lips can capture yours for the very first time.

You can’t deny that you’ve fantasized about kissing Yuuta, if only on the rare occasions that you loosened the reins on your self control. The kiss feels as electric and all-consuming as you’d hoped, hungry like you’re trying to swallow each other whole. His lips are a bit chapped, rougher than yours and hot in a way you’ll surely imprint into your psyche. What surprises you, though, is Yuuta’s brashness; he’s not reserved like you used to imagine he’d be if he kissed you. He’s being selfish, sucking on your lips and licking inside your mouth like you’re his—and when his teeth sink into the plump of your bottom lip you start to realize that maybe you always have been.

Yuuta’s kiss is needy and passionate, but it clearly doesn’t sate him as rough palms travel over your body throughout, kneading your sides and your arms and your thighs till you're rearranged on top of him, straddling where he needs you most.

You’re instinctually grinding down on him once you are, your insides painfully empty and sensitive so that the hard feeling of him through his pant fabric pressing against your clit is the most satisfying feeling you’ve ever had. He’s quickly grabbing at your hips to help push your core against him, and that angle of pressure paired with his attentive mouth against yours has you cumming in minutes, crying out into his mouth while he grips you harshly like a ragdoll, eventually mouthing at your jaw and throat so you can breathe again. It’s the kind of orgasm that has your senses short-circuiting, your vision going in and out of focus while your hearing turns fuzzy—it’s intense and euphoric. You feel drugged.

It’s unnatural how you’re instantly needy again once you come down, panting and light-headed but impatient when you scoot back to reach for his belt. Yuuta’s hand stops yours.

“Hang on—”

“Please! Nii-san, I can’t wait, I need you—”

“I know, let me—“ he interrupts himself to peck your lips again. You want him to never stop doing that—the satisfaction is addicting. “Let me give you head first.”

Those words knock the wind from your lungs. Because now is the first time you truly reckon with a truth you’ve been avoiding… Yuuta is experienced. You don’t know who or when (as far as you’re aware he’s never had a steady girlfriend) but the way he says those words makes it clear. Yuuta has made a woman cum. The idea brings a wave of jealousy you usually keep carefully buried—it’s an unspoken rule yuuta doesn’t mention his romantic affairs, so the reality of his sex life is something you’ve avoided.

“I’m a virgin.” The words bubble out of you uncontrollably. Yuuta chuckles just a little before giving another quick kiss.

“I know. That’s why I’m gonna go down on you.”

The effects of whatever aphrodisiac you’ve been exposed to clearly haven’t waned as Yuuta manhandles you into a position of his liking before he finishes his sentence—neither of you have gained the common sense necessary to move yourselves off the floor to Yuuta’s bed a yard away. Yuuta’s still the most aggressive you’ve ever felt him as he lays you down, trailing kisses and occasional bites down your skin till he makes his way to his own boxers that rest over your hips. You catch a little glare when he spots them, a week ago he told you to stop borrowing these—you’re my little sister! It’s not appropriate.

How ironic, he doesn’t chastise you as he yanks those very same boxers down his little sister’s legs. Then he tosses them aside—not even commenting on how you got them all messy—and instantly sets to work, lapping at your pussy like a man starved.

It isn’t an experience to be taken lightly—the first lick of your brother's tongue has you moaning like a pornstar. You have to grip the roots of Yuuta’s soft hair for stability as his mouth sends electricity through your body, pleasure radiating from your cunt all throughout you till you’re not sure you know what to do with it all. Once he latches to your clit, sucking it like a pacifier while his pretty lashes blink closed in content, you can’t help but come undone again—your orgasm intense and lasting even longer than the last time—this feeling is addicting.

Yuuta licks up as much of your release as he can when you do, then he’s quickly rising up, wiping his face with an arm before tugging off his shirt.

You feel like the luckiest sister in the universe when you finally come back to earth to watch him, his sculpted body glistening in sweat as he reveals more and more skin—all for you.

Yuuta’s pants are tugged off next, but not all the way. He gets impatient once they’re low enough for his cock to be freed, stroking it shamelessly, coating it in the mess he made from cumming in his pants.

Your eyes go wide when you see his size.

“S-sorry I know t’s a lot. Are you doing okay?”

There’s a silent but in there, an unspoken i still need more.

You nod quickly, spreading your bent legs so he has full access—it’s true that you’ve cum hard enough twice to pass out for days, but your body is insatiable. Yuuta’s cock is what it truly wants; you won’t—can’t—rest till you get it.

Yuuta’s wasting no time—clearly as needy for you as you are for him. He’s already leaning over you, running his tip through your folds before you can find the desperate words to reply, “Need you inside me, Yuu.”

That’s as much confirmation as Yuuta needs before he thrusts, stretching your virgin hole till it molds to fit him. There’s a pinch, a sting that pricks tears in your eyes as you accommodate his thick girth, but it’s replaced by the pure relief of him in a matter of seconds. You whine when he bottoms out, your body clenching and grinding towards him of its own volition—again, you’re insatiable. Luckily Yuuta seems to be on the same page as he quickly pulls almost completely out of you, earning a louder whine before slamming back in, hitting a deep, warm spot that has your vision blurring.

It’s ruthless and mean the way he starts beating your cunt then—you can’t help but contrast it to the way Yuuta rocked you in his lap just a night ago to soothe you through a scary thunderstorm. This man, the one snapping his hips against your hole with bruising force and no breaks, is a different man completely.

You want to meet him halfway, to contribute to creating the absolute bliss that his cock quickly brings you, but your body can hardly keep up once Yuuta gets going. He’s so fast and strong, the most you can do is lay there and take it, clawing at his shoulders and back in a way that matches his animalistic energy.

Maybe a minute is all it takes before your body comes undone around Yuuta’s cock. Almost too eagerly and certainly the fastest you’ve ever cum before—it would be embarrassing if it weren’t for Yuuta’s loud, wanton moan at the feel of it.

“F-fuck your pussy’s too tight! Why does it feel so—ngh good—“ Yuuta fills you up for the first time then, flooding your insides with his creamy seed before you even finish twitching from your own release. The heat of your big brother’s cum in your tummy is irreplaceable—you fall in love with the feeling and don’t want it ever to leave.

Luckily Yuuta’s not done, he’s still hard even after he pumps you full, and his movements don’t relent, in fact it almost feels like he’s fucking you deeper.

“Y-yuuta it’s so much…” you manage to say through the stuffed sensation that reaches your throat.

You’re still crazy with want, you feel like you’d die if he stopped, and yet your mysterious sex-craze does nothing to counteract the overstimulation.

“‘M sorry, ‘m really sorry I can’t stop,” Yuuta pries your weak legs up while he talks, folding you up in a mating press. You don’t have the words to reassure him that it’s fine, that you need this, because then you’re coming undone again, throbbing wildly on Yuuta’s cock while your eyes roll back in your head. Yuuta cums with you shortly after, and something in you rejoices that he’s filling you with more of himself—that he’s irreversibly spilling into your most intimate parts.

He pulls out after that, and your legs go limp—all of you lifeless except your twitching, leaking cunt. It’s a good thing Yuuta’s still needy though, because even if your legs lack the strength to hold him, your insides are devastated by the lack of him—it’s wrong that he’s not still inside you.

“Yuuta—“ you start to protest before he’s manhandling you, dragging you till you’re half draped across his bed, shoving your school books and pencils out of the way. It’s like you’re partially standing, bent forward with your tummy against the mattress, but you let your legs dangle limply while you lay, unable to hold yourself.

“I know pretty,” he replies, spreading your messy thighs and cunt before shoving himself back inside you, “can’t be done.”

The sound his cock makes is obscene as it spreads you open again, paired with the whine you let out at the sensitive feeling mixed with relief. The new angle yuuta reaches makes you feel stuffed all the way to your chest.

Yuuta doesn’t waste time before he’s pumping into you as relentlessly as before, pulling easy orgasms from you again and again till your hips are bruised from his hands and his comforter is soaked with your tears and snot and cum.

Yuuta’s crying too by the time he cums a final time, gasping and whining while he fills you with what feels like his entire remaining life force, eventually using the last of his energy to pull out with a wince and collapse on the bed, pulling you up so you’re all the way on the bed next to him. You both lose consciousness finally.

When Yuuta wakes he’s under unusual covers, and finds his vision illuminated by a pink night light—it takes him a minute to recognize that he’s in your room.

But he’s still naked. He sits up with a gasp, reaching for you as the events of evening come flooding back to him, but you’re nowhere to be found—he realizes you must have coaxed him in here for some reason then left. The clock beside him reads five in the morning, but considering how early the two of you passed out the night before, it’s not surprising you’d clearly already woken.

Yuuta sips from a cup of water on your nightstand, then finds a used bath towel you’ve got hooked on your door and wraps it around his hips, venturing dizzily out into the apartment.

He hears the laundry machine going, and passes his room to find his bed stripped of sheets, the mess from your school supplies cleaned up.

Then he finds you in the kitchen with wet hair, clean clothes and an apron, flipping pancakes.

You look delighted when you see him—more than usual—with a sweet smile and giant pupils.

“Yuuta! Made you breakfast.” You say making your way to him.

Not that Yuuta’s had much time to think on it, (he wasn’t worrying over his future when your tight pussy was milking his drugged senses yesterday, that’s for sure), but in the back of his mind, he was sure that fucking you would have irreparable effects on your relationship. You’d always love each other, of that much he was certain—you had a mutual trust in that department for sure. But he was also sure things would be awkward, maybe you’d need space at first and wouldn’t look at him the same.

But then you hop your way over to him once he walks into the kitchen, rubbing hands up his bare chest before locking your arms behind his neck, reaching up on tiptoes to kiss his lips. And it’s not just a peck, either. And the curse’s aphrodisiacs have worn off.

And maybe, the irreparable effects from last night aren’t going to be so awkward after all.

#yuuta x reader #jjk x reader #yuuta smut #jjk smut #yuta x reader #yuta x y/n #🐞 writes #tw.incest #tw.sex pollen #tw.drugged sex #🐞 q

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peachtarto · 2 months

Text

Now or Never

Pairing : Luke Castellan x reader

Word Count :

Summary : Luke missed his chance to ask you an important question, and is painfully unaware of it.

Warnings: mostly fluff! nothing crazy- Luke is dumb, Clarisse is an overprotective bestie, talk of self-doubt etc.

Masterlist here!

A/N : thinking of making this a little series of moments in your relationship- let me know if that’s something you guys would like!

‘Don’t you think it’s a little much?’ You questioned, eyeing your own reflection with what some might call a generous amount of scrutiny.

Silena gave no indication that she’d heard and continued talking, ‘there’ll be such good food, and wine of course, lots and lot of wine..’

The pins in your hair were already beginning to ache, and you tried not to wince as she added yet another one to the elegant braid she was painstakingly creating.

‘- imagine if we made this much fuss for our birthdays,’ she continued, ‘like, I get that he’s the god of festivity but I’ve got to question why he wants to party with a load of hormonal teenagers. Not that I’m complaining, we could all use a good party.’

Silena was already dressed: a deep purple gown of silk accented with golden cuffs, and little combs fashioned like gilded laurel leaves swept her hair away from her face. She looked beautiful, and there was not a doubt in your mind that she was the daughter of Aphrodite.

She’d picked out your dress which had been a relief, a soft chiffon that seemed to float when you moved. It was simple but elegant, she’d insisted- perfect for a daughter of Athena. She’d also said that the hair should match, but it’d been half an hour since she’d started and it was starting to feel everything but simple.

‘And can you believe we’re allowed to switch tables tonight? I can’t wait! Charles said we’d sit together obviously and I’m sure the Hermes boys will join as and..’

Her smile faltered when she saw the look on your face and she quickly halted her movements, ‘oh, don’t you like it?’

‘No no, it’s beautiful!’ You stammered quickly; she’d curled and brainded your hair back in a thick, loose plait with little gold pins shimmering throughout. Even in cabin 10, her skills were unrivalled. ‘I just- do you think it’s too much?’ You questioned again.

‘Too much?’ She scoffed, and then her full lips parted in a dazzling smile, ‘of course it’s too much, that’s the point! We want every boy in this camp on their knees! Figuratively of course.’

You tried to hide the smile that tugged on your lips, ‘You’ve already got Charles drooling after you non-stop, leave some for the rest of us.’

‘Some?’ She said and grinned rather fiendishly, ‘or do you want me to leave just a certain son of Hermes for you?’

You rolled your eyes and gave her a smooth, and rather horrible gesture as she went back to toying with your hair, giggling to herself.

Silena had been the one to introduce you to Luke two years prior. She’d gracefully swept you into her circle the moment you’d arrived in camp, convinced you would be claimed by her mother too. Had Luke not intervened and taken you to cabin 11 she probably would’ve had you sleeping top to toe in her bunk; she’d reluctantly handed you over, but not before she’d seen the look that had passed between the two of you. Love at first sight she’d insisted, and maybe she’d been mistaken on his end, but she hadn’t on yours.

‘You know, he really does like you. I can tell, and you should believe me because it’s literally my thing.’ She sighed, stepping back to admire her handiwork. She pulled and prodded at a few loose hairs until she seemed satisfied, then dragged you over to the long mirror at the back of the cabin.

You didn’t know how she’d managed it, but for once you didn’t cringe at the reflection you saw and a part of you couldn’t quite believe what stared back. There was no denying she was a master at her craft.

‘You look so beautiful!’ Silena squealed, her hands clasped together in pride. Then, without warning she pulled you into a bone-crushing hug that had the air leaving your lungs. ‘Tonight’s the night, for both of us, I can feel it!’

You hoped she was right as you followed her out of the cabin, towards the glittering lights in the pavilion.

Luke stood with Charles and Chris at the edge of the party, sipping slowly on the glass of wine in his hand. He supposed Mr D had been granted a night of reprieve.

‘Seriously man, chill out,’ he whispered over Beckendorf’s shoulder, ‘she’ll be here. Keep frowning like that and you’ll pop a blood vessel.’

He could sense Charles shifting in his feet nervously and his mouth twitched slightly, he knew the feeling all too well. He’d been on edge all day too. Chris was smirking too, but his was all smugness; he’d asked Clarisse outright to attend the party with him and much to everyone’s surprise, she’d said yes immediately, which was lucky for him because the alternative would almost certainly have been the loss of a limb.

‘How can it possibly take this long to get ready?’ Charles said, turning to face Luke. It was odd to see the son of Hephaestus so flustered when he was normally immune to the whims of teenage hormones; apparently he was not at all immune to the power Silena Beauregard seemed to hold over him. ‘Maybe she’s not coming man, we should just go before- oh..’ he trailed off. His eyes went starry and Luke whipped his head around to see what had entranced his friend.

There was Silena in her finery, tossing her hair over a shoulder as she swept into the pavilion. She threw a dangerously beautiful grin at Charles who was beginning to look a little like he might faint.

‘Hi Charles,’ she offered as she sauntered over. Anyone else might’ve missed the shake in her voice, but Luke caught the slightly nervous wobble of her tone and smiled. Good for Beckendorf.

‘You look great Silena,’ he managed to cough out. He quickly eyed Luke who gave an tiny nod of approval as if to say ‘keep going buddy!’

‘I know,’ she sighed dreamily, giving a little twirl of her dress before looping her arm through Charles’ who was now definitely holding his breath. Silena giggled and patted his chest sweetly before throwing a mischievous glare at Luke, ‘Just wait till you see her, I think you’ll get a little breathless too Castellan. Now come on Charlie, let’s get a drink.’

Luke watched her lead his friend away to where Chris stood with an arm slung around Clarisse’s waist; she’d opted for a gown of stormy grey adorned with tiny silver chains, as close to armour as she could get he guessed. She looked slightly terrifying, until Chris whispered something in her ear that had a blushing like crazy and stepping even closer into his side.

‘They make a great couple, don’t you think?’

Luke spun around quickly at the sound of your voice and cursed silently, Silena had been right. All the air left his lungs in a great breath and he was instantly lightheaded at the sight of you.

Devastating was the only word that came to his mind. Truly devastating. You could’ve walked into Olympus then and there and they probably would’ve pronounced you a goddess in an instant. He was struck dumb, and silent. He wanted to say something about how beautiful you looked, or how he’d been wrapped around your delicate finger the day you’d walked into camp; instead his frantic brain settled on, ‘nice dress, did you borrow it from Silena?’

You flinched. ‘No. We were sent a trunk to pick from from her mother.’

‘Oh.’ Was all he could reply as his gaze raked over you again. ‘That’s awfully nice of her.’

‘Very.’ You said through gritted teeth, trying to stop the scarlet blush you could feel rising to your cheeks. What was his problem? It wasn’t unusual for Luke to be blunt, he always struggled to keep his opinions to himself and it had gotten you both in hot water a hundred times before; but it was unusual for him to be blunt with you.

He’d been distant all week, he’d managed to miss three sparring sessions with you and counsellor duties on several occasions. The first few times Chris had been polite enough to make excuses for him, but when the two of you walked into the arena one morning to find Luke and Travis swinging swords at eachother, he’d stayed silent. He didn’t have to tell you what was already painfully obvious. Luke wasn’t ill, and hadn’t ’slept in late’, he’d just been avoiding spending any amount of time with you. You hadn’t had any idea why; and now, standing in the pavilion with the air thinning in between you both, you were even more confused.

He ran his eyes over your dress yet another time and something seemed to snap in your chest. ‘If you’re going to keep judging my outfit,’ you managed to spit out, ‘do it at the dinner table, I’m starving and don’t have the energy to defend myself. Let’s go sit with the others.’

You span away from him so quickly you missed him opening and closing his mouth as he tried to explain himself. As you stalked towards the table your friends had gathered around you must’ve been wearing a murderous expression, because Silena quirked her eyebrow at him with a face that said ‘what did you say?’ He responded with a small shrug before slipping into the seat opposite you.

Luke tried, and failed, to catch your eye throughout dinner. Food came and went, and glasses of a sweet amber wine refilled themselves as soon as the last drop hit the drinker’s lips. Silena had made her way through at least five glasses by his count, and was whispering something in Charles’ ear that had the man choking on his strawberry tart. You’d barely touched yours, and had politely declined his offer to get you something else to drink. You’d barely touched your dinner either, pushing things around your plate with your fork until Connor had unceremoniously dumped the contents of it onto his own. He felt he should apologise for his brother’s behaviour, but when he’d tried, you’d turned to watch the campers dancing by the fire.

The soft light from the flames flickered over the planes of your face and he knew he shouldn’t stare, but after starving himself of you for almost a week, he was finding it hard to look away. If he was honest with himself, it had been almost impossible to endure. You’d spent almost every day together for two years; a week apart had him feeling like he was missing a limb.

But a week apart was better than a week of watching male campers saunter up to you in a flurry of proposals. He’d managed to stick around long enough to see two Ares boys crash and burn and that was more than enough. If the failures were that bad, seeing you agree to attend the party with someone would probably have finished him off. He wondered which insufferable git you’d given in to, which one you’d been stood up by.

Curious, he leaned forward and asked loud enough to get your attention- ‘where’s your date?’

You slid your eyes away from the dancers and faced Luke. He was toying with the stem of his glass. Your throat tightened, and your face warmed uncomfortably. ‘I don’t have one.’

‘What?’ He asked incredulously.

‘Loads of people came alone Luke.’ You said replied quietly, keenly aware of the sudden silence of the conversations between everyone else at the table. ‘It’s not a big deal.’

‘I know, I just thought you would’ve put someone out of their misery. Every guy at camp must’ve asked you.’

‘Almost every guy.’ Chris whispered into his drink, rolling his eyes.

‘A few asked, yes.’ You murmured.

‘And you came alone anyway?’

You could’ve sworn Chris was wincing now, and Clarisse had the good sense to find the lights strung above the tables incredibly interesting all of a sudden. Silena however, looked like she was about to explode. You didn’t even know where to begin, your cheeks weren’t warm anymore, they were burning.

‘Yes.’ You ground out, hoping he’d take the hint and keep his mouth shut for once.

Luke went to speak, but Charles cut in before he could begin. ‘We should go dance!’ He declared, slapping his knees over-enthusiastically and standing so quickly he nearly toppled over his chair. The others rose with murmurs of agreement, eager to get away from what was becoming an increasingly awkward conversation.

‘You guys go ahead,’ you said, rising from your chair ‘I’m going to get some fresh air.’

You hoped no one would mention that you were already outside, surrounded by fresh air, and thankfully no one did. Silena gave you an apologetic look but you shook it off. The lights suddenly seemed much too bright, and the table of your friends was starting to feel like an audience to your embarrassment. As they all walked towards the fire you began in the opposite direction, lifting your dress slightly to allow your feet to travel quickly towards the cabins.

Luke felt Silena’s hand meet the back of his head in a swift slap before he could reach out to stop it.

‘You are as dense as old bread Castellan!’ She hissed as he cradled his neck. The boys were looking at him disapprovingly, but Clarisse was just glaring at him like she was sizing him up for a fight.

‘Chris where’s my knife?’ She asked coldly, holding her hand out in her boyfriend’s direction.

‘Woah- what did I do?’ Luke exclaimed, which earned him a hard flick right in the centre of his forehead. Whoever said Aphrodite’s children weren’t vicious fighters was beginning to sound like a goddam liar, he thought.

‘Do you know how many guys she turned down for tonight?’ Silena continued, ‘almost every guy at camp! And do you know why Captain No Clue?’

Luke just stared blankly until she let out an exasperated sigh. ‘Because she was waiting for you to ask her! I was hoping you’d pull your finger out by the end of the week but you didn’t, and you let her come alone.’

He flinched. Silena’s face tightened and her dark eyes flicked to Charles. Something unsaid flashed between them before she turned her gaze back on Luke; her anger was gone, replaced with something strangely close to pity.

‘You wanted to ask her, didn’t you?’ She asked- carefully. Her eyes were beginning to crinkle like she was about to burst into tears. She dashed forward and forced him down into a tight hug. ‘Oh Luke, I’m so stupid!’

Clarisse rolled her eyes. ‘Daughter of the goddess of love and you didn’t see this one coming? Even Chris figured this one out!’ She chided, then added sweetly in his direction, ‘no offence babe.’

He thought of every moment he’d spent with you; the hours of sparring sessions under the heat of the summer sun, the picnics out in the strawberry fields, sneaking between your cabins in the middle of the night to swap stories of your lives before all of this. He’d known the risks of falling for you, and he’d done it anyway. He’d thought about telling you a hundred times. He had thought about telling you that he didn’t want or expect anything from you in return, that he just needed you to know how he felt because it was torture to suffer it in silence. Over the months he’d managed to convince himself that you didn’t feel anything close to what he felt for you, and had resigned himself to living in the wake of your existence.

Luke’s heart stumbled, taking all the confusion and doubt with it, he blurted, ‘I should go after her,’ and started after you, his pulse pounding in his ears.

Even at a fast-paced jog, he only managed to catch up with you when you were rushing up the stairs to your cabin, the skirts of your dress billowing out behind you.

‘Wait up!’ he shouted through heavy breaths.

You didn’t let him continue and just increased your pace, rushing to get to the door. If you could make it inside and shut him out, perhaps he wouldn’t see the tears that had begun fall. A small part of you ached to stop and turn to him, but you knew what was coming. Silena would have tried to intervene once you’d left, and he was probably coming after you to let you down gently. You weren’t sure you could survive that.

‘Gods will you slow down!’ Luke yelled, ‘I want to talk to you!’

‘Don’t bother,’ you said bluntly, ‘I know what you’re going to say.’

‘Oh yeah? What am I going to say?’

He’d taken the Athena cabin steps two at a time and was right behind you now. You could hear his ragged breathing, had he ran here? He must really want to get it over with, you thought bitterly. ‘Does it matter? Just go back to the party Luke, they’ll be missing you.’

‘It matters to me. I don’t want to be there if you’re not.’ He said softly and reached out to grab your hand. His fingers grazed your own, warm and steadfast- patiently waiting for you to pull away. But you didn’t, you couldn’t bare it.

As you turned to face him fully you realised you were close enough to share breath. In other circumstances you might’ve stared up at him with longing; now all there seemed to be was the awful sinking feeling that you were about to lose him.

You opted to not meet his eyesight, and instead studied the scuffed wood of the cabin porch beneath your feet.

‘Then why didn’t you ask me to go with you?’ You managed to ask. You could feel his eyes on you, burning into your skin like a brand. ‘I thought we were friends Luke, I thought that would be enough to get you to tolerate me for one evening so neither of us had to go alone.’

‘That’s not..’ he took a deep breath before he continued. Now or never, he thought, and opted for now.

‘I didn’t ask you because I didn’t want to go as your friend. I wanted to go as your date. I knew you’d say no, because every guy here was chalking up how to ask you themselves and I couldn’t- I couldn’t stand it. I’d prepared myself to see you with someone else tonight and it caught me off guard to see you alone. I had all these things I wanted to say to you, about how beautiful you looked, but I panicked and said some really stupid stuff back there. And i’m sorry, for all of it.’

It was your turn to take a deep breath, and without thinking your fingers tightened around his own. The air was too tight, humming between your bodies, between your joined hands.

‘Ask me now then.’ You dared.

He was silent for long enough that you dared to look up and meet his eyes. You were sure your expression was mirrored on his own: shock, longing, and then something like amusement.

He was smiling like a kid on Christmas at your offer, broad and unrestrained. ‘You want me to ask you to go to the party with me? Now? After I’ve just poured my heart out?’

‘If you don’t want to that fine.’ You teased, a small smile returning to your face. ‘What was it you said about every guy at camp?’

Luke let out a laugh and took a step closer, ‘I don’t care about the party. Go on a date with me. Tomorrow, today, hell let’s go now. I don’t care. Just go out with me. I’m not waiting another two years for this chance.’

‘Of course I’ll go out with you Castellan.’ You replied softly. You didn’t even have to think about your answer, you’d been preparing it for months.

‘Really?’

‘Yes really.’ You laughed and gave his hand a gentle squeeze.

With a sudden burst of confidence, Luke leaned down to brush his mouth against your blushing cheek. You thought you might burst then and there as he pulled you into his chest to whisper in your ear, ‘you look beautiful. You are beautiful. Always. Even covered in sweat during sparring practice, or windswept from the chariot races. I can never look away from you.’

He was blushing too when he pulled away, leaving you staring up at him, breathless again. His smile was nervous as he said, ‘I want to do this properly, I’ll plan something great I promise. But for now, I would be honoured if you’d come back to the party with me, as my date.’

You quirked an eyebrow. ‘Will you dance with me?’

‘Of course I’ll dance with you,’ Luke said, wrapping an arm around your waist, ‘I plan to show you off in fact. I’m pretty sure I’ve just achieved the impossible as far as the guys here are aware. I reserve bragging rights.’

#luke castellan x reader #imagine #imagines #percy jackson #luke castellan #fic #annabeth chase #luke castellan fic #luke castellan imagine #percy jackon and the olympians #disney #clarisse la rue #silena beauregard #charles beckendorf #chris rodriguez #camp half blood #percy pjo #percy and annabeth #charlie bushnell

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too-much-tma-stuff · 27 days

Text

Finally Getting Help (prt 11)

Masterpost

When Jason arrived at the manor to meet Danny it wasn’t him who greeted him but Damian. Jason tensed as he always did when he saw Damian, though now the feeling he got when he saw Damian made more sense to him. He had read the slide show, he knew that the urge to fight Damian wasn’t hatred, and neither was the way Damian lashed out at him… at least probably not. They should spar more, but not right now, he still needed to overcome the urge to fight Damian in the lobby.

“Todd,” Damian greeted.

“Demon-Brat,” Jason said, insults were practically his love language now anyway.

Damian sniffed disdainfully, but he was shifting from foot to foot. He had something to say and was struggling to figure out how. Jason crossed his arms and dutifully waited for Damian to spit it out. “Danny has warned me about the role that combat has in courtship for his kind, I do not know why on earth he would want you to court him But that is his decision. I will not interfere but understand that he is vulnerable and he is protected. If you hurt him in any way there will be consequences.”

“I’m not planning to hurt him, but I also don’t even know if we are ‘courting’ yet,” Jason said rolling his eyes.

“Well then you’re even more of a fool then I thought,” Damian said with a disdainful sniff. “He’s a very powerful being, Zatana says that he will likely grow to be a god, you should be grateful he is willing to let you court him.”

Jason blinked rapidly, he hadn’t been here for that conversation so that was the first he was hearing of that! It also occurred to him that Damian had a baby-crush on Danny and considered teasing him about it but decided not to. “Huh, good to know,” He said, simply reaching out to ruffle Damian’s hair and missing on purpose as he dodged away. “So where is Danny?”

“He’s waiting for you in the dojo upstairs,” Damian said, sounding a little resigned as he gestured upwards. “I hope you made reservations for somewhere worthy.”

“Don’t worry Dami,” Jason snorted, brushing past him to head towards the stairs. “I’ve got it under control.”

Once again as soon as he entered the dojo and saw Danny the violent urges surged but he wasn’t alone and he didn’t swing first. Danny came at him first and Jason rose to meet him. The fight was longer but less desperate this time. It felt like they were getting out their energy and anger without meaning it, and by the end Jason and Danny were both breathing hard and purring again. It really did feel like bonding, they were closer now then they had been at the beginning of the fight, even if they had hardly said a word.

It ended in a stalemate, or, Jason got Danny pinned but it couldn’t have been more obvious that Danny let him. Jason was glad they didn’t have an audience this time so later he could deny that made him blush. Danny gave him a cheeky grin and reached up to pull Jason down, slow enough that Jason was able to scramble away before Danny got hold of him.

He coughed to clear his throat awkwardly, grabbing one of the towels that sat on a shelf on one side of the dojo, using it to wipe his face and the back of his neck. The fight had been intense enough to make him sweat, though Danny still seemed unbothered, and there were some gym style showers off of the dojo.

“Well I’m glad I brought a change of clothes!I’m going to have a quick shower and then we can go out for dinner okay?”

“Sounds good, I’ll go change too. Alfred bought me a Ton of new clothes, I really didn’t need that much more. By the way, what sort of place are we going? I mean, should I dress up?” Danny asked a little awkwardly, Running a hand back through his hair to try and push his bangs back.

“I mean, probably a little bit?” Jason said. “If I didn’t take you somewhere nice I think Damian would shank me. It’s cute how protective of you he is,” Jason teased.

“Alright, so we talking jeans and a button down? Or proper dress pants?” Danny asked, cocking his head to the side.

“Better to go with dress pants. The good ones are pretty comfortable anyway, and Alfred wouldn’t get you bad one. No need for a jacket though, unless you’ll be cold?”

“I have an ice core, I never get cold,” Danny laughed. Jason was just going to pretend he understood what that meant.

“Alright,” Danny agreed, bouncing to his feet in a way that denied gravity and bouncing out of the room to go get changed.

Jason grinned like an idiot after him before shaking off the feeling and going to have a quick shower and get dressed for their date.

Jason showered and dressed in a red shirt and soft brown pants before meeting up with Danny who was wearing a blue that brought out his eyes and black pants, he looked… very good. Judging by the blush on Danny’s cheeks he thought the same thing about Jason.

“Have you ridden on a motorbike before?” Jason asked rather than acknowledging any of that.

“Oh! Ya I have, not that often but I know the basics,” Danny assured, following Jason eagerly towards the door.

“Great, I have an extra helmet for you.”

“Do I have to?” Danny sighed dramatically. “It wouldn’t kill me anyway if I fell off.”

“Yes you have to,” Jason said firmly, his stomach twisting at the idea of Danny getting hurt. “You have to be more careful Danny! I get that we’re all bad about risk taking, and you’re tough, but you don’t have just yourself to worry about anymore!” Jason said, trying not to sound too much like he was scolding Danny. He wasn’t sure it worked because Danny did look pretty chided as he took the helmet.

“The babies aren’t in my head, the helmet wouldn’t protect them,” He muttered as he put it on. Jason just hummed and rolled his eyes as he put his own on.

Danny got on the bike behind him and wrapped his arms around Jason’s waist, snuggling up against his back even as continued to sulk. “Hold on tight, and the helmets have mics so we can still talk without having to yell. It’s a bit of a drive,” Jason warned. He could have gotten there a lot faster, but not without breaking traffic laws and he was in civvies so a half hour drive it had to be.

Danny hummed and tightened his grip on Jason as he kicked back the stand and revved the bike, peeling out of the driveway in a way he knew would piss off Bruce. It also made Danny yelp and cling tighter though so Jason slowed down a bit once they were out of the driveway.

Danny was quiet for maybe ten minutes and Jason was starting to worry he’d upset Danny more then he realized and maybe should apologize when he spoke up. “You’re right. When Cass clocked that I was pregnant it was the first time I’d talked to anyone about it besides Vlad. I’m not… Honestly the way I’ve survived most of the shit that’s happened to me was not thinking about the implications. I’m not sure how I’m going to do this. I’m in a way better position now then I was even a week ago but it’s going to be such a big change I’m having a hard time imagining what it's even going to look like.”

Jason hummed, nodding and taking a moment to consider his response. His first instinct was to remind Danny that he didn’t Have to have the babies since it was still early but he knew that the other bats would have already brought it up. If Danny was anything other than fiercely protective and utterly determined to have the babies Bruce and Dick would still be trying to convince him to not be a teen parent and focus on his education. The same way they had tried to convince everyone in the family not to be vigilantes and utterly failed.

“You’re going to be a good dad Danny, and you’re not going to do this alone. Bruce never got to have any of us as babies, the youngest of us was 12 when he adopted us and I know he’s looking forward to having a baby around. Alfred is too, and Damian and Dick will compete for best uncle. Money is no object, you’ll get everything you and the babies need. It’s still going to be a big change obviously but there’s nothing to be scared of I promise,” Could he make that promise really? Well he just did so he’d better do his best to make sure it was kept.

“It’s not just that though,” Danny said and hesitated again. Jason stayed quiet to let him organize his thoughts. “My binder is hurting more to wear, my.. Chest aches, I told Bruce I was just incubating ghost cores. And that’s what I’ve been telling Myself too, but I got sick this morning and the babies are clones of me, and I’m half human. What if I actually am pregnant?

“I told Jazz I’d bring up going to a human doctor but then dodged it. I haven’t been in years and I am nervous about going again but it’s more than that. I don’t like my body, I’m too young for hormones or surgery but if my body changes. What if my chest hurts too much and I can’t wear my binder anymore? What if they grow more? They’ve always been small enough to hide before.

“I don’t mind the idea of my stomach growing, or even really being a mom. I’m a man but I do feel like I identify more with maternity than paternity. It’s really just my.. Breasts. God I hate that word. I don’t want them to grow, I don’t want to lactate or breastfeed. I mean, I DO, I actually really do but just the idea is giving my dysphoria at the same time that I really want to do it to bond with the babies.” It was like a dam had broken and Danny’s words came fast and a little loud, breathing hard between bouts of talking.

“Deep breaths please Danny, take a few deep breaths,” Jason soothed, taking one hand off the handlebars briefly to pat Danny’s hands where they were clasped over his stomach. He was a bit at a loss about this, none of his siblings were trans, he knew trans people but he’d never had to talk anyone through these particular problems. “These are a lot of what ifs to be panicking about. It’s totally your choice, the babies can be bottle fed if the time comes and you’re not up to it. There’s nothing wrong with that. We’ll all be here for you no matter what happens, but you really should go to the doctor Danny. At least then we’ll know what to expect right?”

“Will you come with me to the doctor? I’m a bit scared of human doctors, I’ve heard people talking about experimenting on me so much as Phantom that every time I’m in a lab-like environment now I can’t stop thinking about it,” Danny asked, a pleading edge to his voice.

“Ya, I’ll come with you, and whoever else you want,” Jason promised, because what else could he say? “We’ll make an appointment for you with Dr. Leslie, she sees all of us vigilantes, she sees just about everyone involved in the night life and never Ever talks to the cops or the feds. Trust me no one can get that woman to talk to anyone, she’s safe.”

“Thank you,” Danny murmured, leaning his cheek against Jason’s shoulder. The rest of the ride was a quiet one as Danny recovered and Jason tried not to overthink his lackluster responses.

-----

Jason parked a block away from the restaurant rather than trusting any concierge with his bike and waited for Danny to get off before he did. He took off his helmet and took Danny’s from him and locked them both in the storage compartment on his bike before leading the way, shoving his hands awkwardly in his pockets. He was never the most… socially competent. He was better than Tim but he was worse than Dick and Bruce and in moments like this he wished these things came a little easier to him.

Danny was quiet, his hands swinging loosely by his side as he followed, Jason noted the way he kept looking around them. They all did that, looking for threats civilians might not see, it was how you spotted a hero even when they weren’t trying to be spotted. Still there were no problems between the bike and the restaurant and when they got inside Jason softly asked the host to make sure Danny got one of the menus without prices. He was knew to this lifestyle, Jason remembered the first time he’d gone out to a fancy dinner with Wayne the prices had nearly given him a heart attack and he was younger and less set in his ways then Danny.

He didn’t want Danny to worry about the prices, he’d be paying and he was both the son of a millionaire and a crime lord, he could buy the entire fucking place without blinking. The host nodded understanding and ushered both of them to the most private table in the establishment.

They settled in and ordered drinks, Jason a coke and Danny a signature lemonade before they were left with the menus. Danny gave Jason a suspicious look when he noticed there weren’t any prices but when Jason innocently pretended not to notice Danny huffed and decided not to bring it up.

“Order whatever you want, appetizer and dessert too,” Jason encouraged, putting on his innocent face again when Danny gave him a Look.

“Alright,” Danny agreed with a dramatic sigh, he didn’t need to be pushed too hard though, Alfred had mentioned Danny was almost always hungry, wish was why Jason hadn’t chosen one of the fancy places with ridiculously small portions.

Danny took a while to choose, and asked Jason about a few items and words on the menu. Finally he sighed and put his menu down to indicate he was done. It wasn’t long before the waitress returned to take their order for appetizers and main before vanishing again.

“So,” Danny asked leaning against the table and clasping his hands. “You have questions?”

#danny phantom #Danny is pregnant #trans!danny #jason todd #dead on main #tw dysphoria #damian wayne #dc x dp #finally getting help au #unedited #tell me if you find any mistakes #the date ended up being 2 parts #oops

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bigfatbimbo · 2 months

Note

hai semi long time lurker first time asker

may i request a little luci drabble, perchance maybe him and reader out somewhere, and when he starts acting up (that man is a brat and ill die on this hill) reader has to pull him off to the side and...correct him, all while he whines about "i wasn't being that bad" and "please be nice to me" even tho he was being that bad and he does not deserve kindness 😞🙏🏽

ANYWAY EVEN IF U WRITE THIS OR NOT I LOVE UR WORKS SM I CLAW AT THE WALLS WAITING 4 UR POSTS UR SO TALENTED N I ASPIRE TO BE YOU

idk if this one has been used but

-⛈️

a/n — Lucifer content I love you so much. Anyways I love brat Lucifer reuther’s thank you.

summary — After a particularly bratty attitude from Lucifer in public, you pull him off to the side and reach him a lesson on manners.

warnings — semi-public sex, sub Lucifer, dom reader, hand jobs, degradation

It hadn’t been a big deal, really. But god, did it piss you off. Lucifer, who was probably one of the most insecure men you’ve ever been with, acted so oddly high and mighty around his citizens.

Which would have been understandable, he was the king of hell, after all. However, sometimes his uppity attitude got to you.

Like right now. One friendly looking sinner had simply approached you two at a restaurant. They weren’t threatening, nor did they try to steal anything as you were watching their hands the whole time.

However, despite the rare friendly attitude from the demon, you saw something strange in your boyfriend. He was rude, and no, he probably didn’t realize he was, but that didn’t change the fact he was not kind to the demon at all.

For a moment, all the stranger got was a blank stare. One that lasted far too long, and in the end, felt pretentious and almost accusing. The stare felt so rude, it struck you to your core.

Afterwards, instead of a smile, which you had to admit was attempted, he simply sneered and looked side to side uncomfortably. When the demon asked for an autograph, he cleared his throat and muttered something about how he ‘doesn’t understand who would want an autograph from the devil, but alright.’

His tone was playful, but had an undertone of all knowing prestige that irked you. It made him seem like a pompous rich brat, you didn’t like that.

Finally, the sinner shook his hand, thanked him and left. The worst part was the aftermath.

Lucifer wiped his hand off, wiped his hand off, on the nearest napkin and turned to you with an awkward smile, “Can you believe that? Weirdo, amiright? Should probably check my pockets for my wallet!”

Although Lucifer laughed, it faded quickly after he noticed how you were not laughing.

“…uh, something wrong, dear?” he asked hesitantly, already growing nervous at your less than positive response to his ‘joke.’

You stare at him for another moment before breathing, “Bathroom, now.”

Less than gently, you pull him by his arm to the bathroom, receiving a few stares from other people on the area. Luckily, the restaurant was crowded. And besides, the loud background noise would come in handy soon.

Tugging him into an empty restroom, you begin to scold him, “Do you even know how much of a dick you just acted like?”

“What?” Lucifer seemed extremely perplexed at your accusation.

“The way you treated that sinner?” You hiss, backing him into a wall, staring down at him with angry dissatisfaction.

“Oh come on,” he crossed his arms and glared up at you, “Those people are just the worst. I was being nice!”

Your knee slipped in-between his legs subtly so he didn’t notice at first. “You were being a pompous brat,” you not-so-subtly use your hand to pin him closer to the wall, completely pressed up against you.

Lucifer stared up at you and gulped, awaiting your next move.

“And you know what happens to brat,” you hiss in a whisper, “They get punished.”

You weren’t sure what was making your usually obedient Lucifer act out tonight, but whatever it was, he doubled down.

“It really wasn’t that bad,” he whispered.

“Excuse me?”

“I said,” his irritation was apparent, “you’re overreacting— fuck!”

You palm his dick through his pants and Lucifer moans loudly. Although, he remembers his environment and shuts himself up by biting his lip and glaring up at you.

With a knowing smile, you tug his pants and boxers down, eyes meeting his as you pull his cock out.

“Oh, you piece of shit,” he groans quietly as his eyes dart to the side, blush rising in his cheeks.

“Uh-huh, keep talking. See where it gets you,” you condescend, beginning to stroke his dick at an agonizingly slow pace.

His hand shoots up to cover his mouth as he lets out a gravely whimper.

“Remember where you are Lucifer. It’s rude to cause a scene,” you smirk as your hand speeds up, “but you wouldn’t know that.”

“Oh god—“ his moan is muffled as he stares at you through furious half lidded eyes, “Oh, fuck you.”

Your hand shoot straight to the base of his cock and back, and you tut softly, “Someone has an attitude problem tonight. I outta teach you some manners.”

He whines, shaking his head vigorously as his other hand comes up to press down on his mouth as well.

The circumstances were more than upsetting, he couldn’t be loud, others might hear. But doing this was a risk in itself. You weren’t even in a stall. If anyone walked in on you two he would have to look at their shocked expression.

He let out a choked moan at the thought, “Be nice to me, please I didn’t—“

Your hand speeds up once more, “Oh? Because just a second ago you were calling me a piece of shit.”

He whines, clearly frustrated at the whole situation. Your movements are aggressive and your words are condescending. Oh, how he hated when you were mad at him.

But your actions irritated him slightly. Had he really been that bad? In his eyes, he still wasn’t convinced.

The way your hand moved, though, was clogging up his thoughts, making it harder to be upset. Still, he clung onto coherence.

“You’re so— fuck. You’re so mean,” he whined into his hands, looking up at you with much less malice than before.

“And you’re a pretentious brat,” You remark, feeling precum leak onto your hand, “So I guess we’re both in moods tonight.”

He moaned loudly, leaned further up against the wall and squirming desperately, still being pinned down by your free arm.

“I’m sorry,” he whimpered as he felt his climax building, “I’m sorry, fuck. Can I please cum now?”

“Shush, Lucifer,” you make an obvious movement of glancing around, “You forget yourself. Wouldn’t want anyone hearing how much of a slut you are.”

Tears pricked the corner of his eyes as he fought to contain himself. It was agonizing how much he was holding back right now. From cumming, from being loud, and at the same time trying to remain in a somewhat coherent headspace.

“Please,” he pleaded in a whisper as he attempted to stop the single tear from coming down his face.

You considered for a long time. You were in a crowded restaurant and you hadn’t even gotten your food yet. For a moment, you thought you were going to say yes.

Instead a smile formed on your lips and you yanked your hand away. Lucifer whined terribly as another tear slipped down his porcelain skin.

“Pull your pants up, our food might be here,” you wash your hand off and begin to walk out of the bathroom.

Lucifer just started at you, mouth agape at your cruel plan. He was going to have to sit through dinner needy and hard, and still have to face a punishment when you both arrived home.

“Come on, Luci,” you tease, “It’s rude to stare.”

a/n — Wow gang! It sure is lucky that no one in that super packed restaurant had to go to the bathroom.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel lucifer #inbox open #dom reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #sub lucifer

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pupcuck · 3 months

Text

BEEP !

ft. leon s. kennedy x fem!reader

tags. ddlg, pacifier, cockwarming, p in v, fluffy smut, implied age gap, icky ddlg stuff .. like yk

note. we r trying this again.. tags didn’t work last time bc tumblr hates me :( commission 4 the loveliest sweetest ever @miss-oranje-disco-dancer :3 !!! THANK U SM FOR THE COMM love u with all my heart hope u enjoy this and that there are no mistakes… if u would like to commission or tip me the info is in my pinned :3

Leon hears you before he sees you. There is one sound that grates on him and another that makes his dick as hard as it can get. At least, his brain is telling him he should be hard, and he knows he should be, but his dick is crazy stubborn. Stubborn is his way of describing it, his doctor calls it an erectile dysfunction. Not true. His dick functions when it wants to function, okay?

Taking Viagra is optional these days, shit don’t work for him no more. He takes it for fun, reminiscing on the good ol’ days when his dick got hard from the way the wind blew. It doesn’t work so it’s redundant and Leon has started to think he just likes popping pills. Makes him feel twenty-seven and hot. He’s Viagra-resistant. Like Super Gonorrhoea is to antibiotics.

The squeak of your teeth against the rubbery nub of your pacifier is a delight. All the blood in his brain rushes south like a crew scrambling to raise the masts on a ship, it has nowhere to go though, no dick to raise. You've unlocked a new level of excitement within Leon, instead of boners he gets blood clots. How cute. Really, that’s so fun, ain’t it?

The beep! of that goddamn plastic scanner, however, is not welcome in this house. Especially not in his home office turned place of refuge. Leon swears to God he’s developed misophonia. As your daddy, that kind of behaviour is unacceptable, he shouldn't be swearing at all, but this is Leon speaking, not daddy. Daddy is a saint, Leon is pissed off. He only wanted to do something nice for his baby. Nothing ever works out in his favour, he must’ve been born under an unlucky star, or walked under a lot of ladders, crossed one too many black cats.

That one good deed backfired, and now he would rather— Oh, shit.

“Uh-oh,” you mumble, the start of a cheeky grin lining your face. The pacifier muffles your words, it’s plain pink and heart-shaped like your ass. ‘Cause you’re a tasteful little thing. No excessive prints, no lettering that reads Daddy's Girl ♥︎ which Leon had perversely hoped for you to choose.

Uh-oh indeed. He has filled out an entire (probably) super important form in a pink gel pen. Not just any pink gel pen, a strawberry-scented, glittery pink gel pen.

“What did daddy say about this, baby?” Leon asks, and he’s trying to be serious, but god are you cute, and since when has he cared about work? Hunnigan will give him an earful, he wishes for a mouthful, that he’ll ignore because Leon is so kind. He cares so much about saving the world and whatnot.

(Paperwork doesn’t save the world anyway, he saves it periodically, she should cut him some slack.)

“You can’t come into daddy’s office when he’s not home.” That’s a rule. Written on a Miffy notepad in, you guessed it, pink glitter gel pen. A combined effort to revamp the Ten Commandments. Rule number five - Thou shalt not enter Daddy’s place of labour. God, he should do stand-up.

You shrug, pointing at your pacifier in an act of defiance. The scanner remains gripped tightly in your hand, and he can tell you’re itching to make it beep! once more.

Leon hooks his finger in the curved handle of your pacifier, there’s resistance, you hold onto it, clamped down on the nub— He tickles your tummy and out it pops.

“Not fair!” You wipe the spit from your chin on your sleeve. A pout forming at the injustice of it all.

“You can’t come into daddy’s office when he’s not home,” he repeats, “I think you should apologise to Daddy.”

Slowly, you turn around to bare your ass to him, the panties you’re wearing have an oversized bow sewn to the back of them. The fabric is slightly wrinkled from where you’ve been sitting and playing, he smooths it out.

Leon’s never seen these before, they look expensive, silk not cotton. He reminds himself to check his bank account when you leave. He’ll forget until he sees you wearing an even nicer pair later on in the week. The cycle repeats. You are living one lavish life off a civil servant’s salary.

“You’re too big for spankings, aren’t you, big girl?” Leon’s hands are gentle on your hips, he turns you back around. “Big girls say sorry.”

Petulance comes and goes. You’re a good girl at heart, bottom lip quivering when you lurch forward to sit in his lap. “Sorry, Daddy,” you sniffle.

“Aw, baby,” he coos. “It’s okay, daddy isn’t—“

Beep!

You scanned his dick. Good one. Sneaky little thing. He oughta go back on his words and spank you raw.

“You think you’re funny, huh, little lady?” Leon huffs out a laugh, and you nod while giggling. So proud of yourself. “Alright, get outta here.” He stands you up, but you crawl under his desk like a pet. The cutest little bedbug in all of history. Leon would never call pest control on you. Pinky swear.

The scanner sits by his feet, and you rest your head on his thigh, watching him work idly. Then you grow bored, naughty hands making their way up his legs. In one swift motion, you tug the front of his sweats down, his flaccid cock drops onto his thigh. Limp and sad. It’s ugly like this, Leon is more than a little ashamed. So… So not dick-like. Innocuous. Harmless.

(Not that his dick was causing any harm before, maybe to your cervix, but never on purpose. Only ‘cause you asked him to fuck you like that. His little lady wants it rough.)

To put it simply, shit looks like a fucking worm. You bat at his cock like a kitten, tongue sticking out to lick over the half-hidden tip.

“Okay,” Leon says. This is happening.

“Mmph…” You engulf the tip in your warm mouth, suckling like you do your pacifier, there’s the slightest scrape of teeth, Leon doesn’t mind.

“That sending you to sleep, cutie?” Leon pats your head as you blink up at him sleepily. He wants to take you to work with him. Let you set up your toys beneath his desk, hand you a juice box, a fruit snack, his cock at your will. Put it in your mouth, jerk him off, sit on it. Yeah. Sounds like a dream. That should be his treat for all the world-saving he does. No bonus, just a Bring Your Girlfriend to Work Day. Bring Your Girlfriend to Work and Engage in Public Sex With Her Everyday. That’s more like it.

Who else is going to warm his cock when it’s feeling all alone? Hunnigan most certainly won’t. And he might’ve wanted that before, but Leon S. Kennedy has been domesticated, and the only mouth he wants on his dick is yours. You do a damn good job at it. Treat his dick so well, that soft fuck don’t deserve it.

You pull off of his cock with a slurp. The drool pooling in your mouth dribbles down your chin, you use his sweats as a napkin, rubbing your face into the fabric to clean yourself up. Your mess is his mess. He finds it cute.

“Baby’s all done?” Leon’s thumb traces the shape of your lip, your Cupid’s bow, your puffy bottom lip. Always juts out ‘cause you’re always pouting about one thing or the other. Leaning into his palm, you shake your head, shifting from your knees to your butt. Cross-legged on the ground you push the gas cylinder on his spinny chair. There is the deflated sound of his chair sinking and you hum in satisfaction, level with his cock.

“Careful, lift your little fingers,” he warns when you grab the underside of his seat to try and wheel him closer. You do as he says, anything to get his cock in your mouth. Leon wheels forward, and you situate yourself between his thighs once more, lips wrapping around his dick. You take inch by inch, closing your eyes once you get to the midway point, then you swallow around his cock— Fuck, that got him twitching. Your eyes open, and you giggle, the vibration goes straight to his core. His cock grows thicker and heavier by the second, tip fat and leaky as it drip-drops directly down your throat.

“Look at you go,” Leon chuckles. “You did that all on your own, baby.” No Viagra needed when he has you.

You smooch the head, smearing his pre over your lips like a coat of gloss, then you trail kisses along the shaft as you do down his midriff.

“Always tryin’ that, it’s not gonna work.” He clicks his tongue, the sound of your struggle is cute, you choke on spit while trying to fit Leon’s balls in your mouth. It’s real fucking cute. No other girl has ever loved on his balls like you do. He appreciates it. You’re a proper whore, Leon says that with love.

“‘S gonna, Daddy,” you insist in your whiniest voice.

“Alright, alright, it’s gonna work.”

It does not work. Daddy’s always right, you should know that, sweetheart.

You gaze up at him, a string of spit connecting your lips to his spit-coated balls. Whole lotta spit. You’re lucky he likes it messy. You settle for sucking on the rounded bottom of them, tongue following the seam that runs up the middle.

“You like it down there so much, cutie,” he says, fondness manifesting in his dick finally managing to stand tall and proud like an American.

“Mwah.” You place one more sloppy kiss on the underside of his cock, right on a vein that comes to the surface. His dick casts a shadow on your face. Real good view from up here. Makes his shit look huge.

Leon gets stupid when he’s horny. His brain activity is low already, when he’s turned on his brain activity is nonexistent. When he sits you on his desk, there is no concern for the paperwork that gets crumpled under your butt. Paperwork that’s been passed on to him by the US government, by the damn President. Paperwork that has been subjected to abuse by not only a gel pen, but now by your cute ass, and your drippy cunt. Not his girl’s fault she has such a sloppy pussy. Forgive her, Mr. President. Not Leon’s fault he gets her so wet. Cut down my workload, Mr. President.

“Oh no, my baby.” Leon stands between your spread thighs, frowning as he thumbs the wet patch staining the crotch of your panties. “Got ‘em all messy, sweetheart, what're we gonna do with you?”

“Oh no, daddy,” you coo at him, a dopey smile on your face.

“Cheeky.” Leon kisses your forehead, presses his thumb into the centre of the wet patch, the fabric dips and sinks into your spongy hole. “She’s so greedy.” He takes your panties off, not without turning them inside out to suck on the wet patch. If you’re embarrassed about it, you don’t complain. “I think daddy needs to give you a kiss down here, baby.”

“Lotsa kisses.” You nod in agreement.

“Yeah? Want daddy to kiss your princess parts?” Shit, that is one fucked up phrase. Always messes him up. Knocks the air out of his lungs. It’s just true though. A hard fact. You do have the prettiest princess cunt Leon has ever seen. It just sounds so dirty. But you preen when he says it, and your clit twitches, and your pussy drools. On that very important paperwork. “That’s what you need, isn’t it? Need your daddy to kiss these sweet princess parts.”

Leon’s first priority is your clit. Poor thing is all swollen. His pointer finger drags through the middle of your cunt, parts your folds and circles your bud. You’re trembling in anticipation, and that single finger is almost too much.

“‘S not a kiss, daddy,” you tell him, brows knit together.

He flicks your clit and your hips jolt. The IKEA desk holds up well. Leon deserves to be a little mean, you’ve put him through so much. That stupid scanner makes him trigger-happy. “Okay, my bad, Miss Know-it-all.”

When he gets down to business, you pet his head as a reward, and Leon takes it. He latches onto your clit, lips smacking noisily. Your pussy wets his scruffy face, Leon would like to wear your scent to work in the morning. With each broad lick to your cunt, there’s another gush of slick. And he groans into your pussy ‘cause fuck he could live between your thighs— God, he wonders if this is a fix for barely functioning alcoholics. Pussy. If he eats enough - which Leon does, he’s generous when it comes to head - he might sober up.

His tongue fucks into your hole, his nose bumping your clit as he moves his head from side to side. Must look like he’s motorboating your pussy. Not far off from that. “Oh, that’s right.” You grind your hips into him. “Mmm-Mmm-Mmm-“ Leon moans with each push of his tongue, sounds kinda ridiculous. “That’s good, fuck daddy’s mouth, sweetheart—“

“Stop…” Your breath is caught in your throat. “Stop talkin’ daddy!” You sob, fingers tangled in his hair, using it to force him deeper and deeper, hips moving in tandem.

Leon smiles into you, and you don’t let go of his hair until you’re reduced to tears, making an even bigger mess on his desk as your body shakes. It hit you hard. Poor baby. Blubbering and all sorts. When you free him, Leon moves to kiss you, rubs his pussy-wet stubble all over your face, swallows your complaints.

“It’s okay, sweetheart.” Leon leaves wet kisses on your neck. “Daddy’s got you, hm? Daddy’s right here.” You’re still trembling, grabbing at his shoulders when he rolls his hips forward, the leaky head of his cock meeting your clit in a disgusting wet kiss.

You shudder, toes curling in your pink socks. Leon soothes you, stroking your back as he eases into your princess cunt. “Easy, baby, be a good girl for me.”

Your cunt sucks him in, doesn’t take long for him to be buried inside of you. He rolls his hips forward, slow and steady. You gasp, throwing your head back and knocking a pot of pens onto the floor when your hands move to grip the edge of his desk.

Like this, with your back arched and your hips raised, cunt swallowing him whole, you’re the prettiest. When you’re slutting yourself out on his dick. Sorry. Leon’s only a man. This is how he thinks, how he’s wired to be, he can’t help it. You’re so fucking hot it drives him nuts.

The more you arch, the better it feels, he gives lazy thrusts that somehow manage to hit just right ‘cause you keen and fuck yourself on him, letting out hiccuped sobs of Daddy.

Daddy, daddy, daddy.

It’s all you can say. Fuck.

“I love you, baby,” Leon says. “I love you, daddy loves you.”

Oh, and you cum so hard he thinks you’re about to blackout. You don’t. But you do squirt. Pushing his cock out with the force of your high, Leon forces his dick further into you— The rush of liquid hits his skin in bursts, and you’re squeezing him tight, hole clenching like crazy in second-long intervals.

“Daddy… I love you.” Your words are slurred, but you never miss the opportunity to tell him how much you love him. “Love you more.”

“Not… Not possible.” Leon almost whines when he cums. Almost. You scratch behind his ears, it’s like you’re saying There you go, good daddy! Like he’s a dog. Leon is a dog, not a real dog, but a human dog. The pervert kind of dog.

He fills you up like a creampuff, and when his cock slips out, dribbles of his seed dripping from the tip, Leon’s quick to use his thumbs to keep your pussy spread.

“Push it out, baby.” He watches your hole twitch, milky cum spilling out as you exert your pussy. “Good girl, you’re such a good girl.” Leon kisses you hard, cradles the back of your head. “Daddy’s good girl.”

Leon helps you stand, his fingertips mould to the flesh of your ass when he gives it a squeeze. You’re a tender little darling, wrapping your arms around his neck to hug him. When his chin slots over your shoulder, and your scent is sweet on his nose, Leon gapes at the sight of his soggy paperwork. Unfortunately, Leon won’t even be fired for insolence, he’ll just have to face Hunnigan. Something he can’t do while sober. Could do it while pussy drunk though. Never thought about that.

“I think,” Leon starts, hoists you back onto the desk so he can pick you up, “it’s bath time.” You’re nodding off in his arms, barely able to cling onto him. He manages to get you to the bathroom, sitting you down on the counter. “Or is it naptime?”

“Naptime,” you mumble, wincing at the icy counter on your warmed skin.

“Whatever you say, baby.” Leon cleans you up, diligent in his role as Daddy. Would never let his sweetheart go to bed like that. “There we go, fresh as a daisy,” he claims post-towel wipe down.

“Sticky.” You always have a complaint for him. But it’s okay, he loves you. You’re his spoiled little girl.

“Okay, so then is it bath time?” He raises a brow and you shake your head.

“No! Naptime, daddy!” You loop your arms around his neck. “Up.”

“You’re so bossy, you know that?” Leon says while smiling. “Big fuckin’ baby, what am I gonna do with you?”

“Bad words,” you scold, tapping your finger on his lips.

“Daddy can say bad words.” He takes you to bed, fluffs up the pillows for you like he's never done for anyone else. “But you’re a little baby, you can’t say bad words.”

And for once, you’re so sleepy you have nothing bratty to say in return. “Okay, daddy, sleep now,” you say, rolling onto your side to hide your face in his chest.

“Okay, baby,” he laughs quietly, holding you close. “Sleeping now.”

#leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x you #leon s kennedy smut #resident evil x you #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut

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justlillythinking · 1 year

Text

idk where to put requests bc i barely ask for stuff on here but basically my idea was this. neteyam x human reader that is hella funny. friends to lovers type thing where he feels his responsibilities and stress slip away when hes with them. kiss kiss love confession type thing. gn or fem would be cool mookie

neteyam x human!reader imagine

1.7k words

warnings- sfw, mutual pinning, soft fluff, a little angst ? love confessions

also while writing this it was inspired by in love with you by erykah badu and boogie nights/all night by erykah badu

hanging out with the sullys is always interesting, from going on ikran rides to sneaking on missions. when lo'ak says that you should all go on a ride right before eclipse, neteyam is fast to object.

"come on bro, you know dad is going to slaughter us if we are out at eclipse, lets just go tomorrow."

spider huffs before jumping on lo'aks ikran. god, my brother is such an ass, sometimes i just want to slap him so hard he can't feel his face for a week. i give neteyam a look, us both understanding that the only way to keep our stupid brothers in line is to follow them and keep them safe. he helps me up onto his ikran and we take off after spider and lo'ak, soaring in the calm sunset.

after flying for 10 minutes, spider and lo'ak land somewhere in the floating mountains, neteyam and i follow after them. when we touch down, neteyam picks me up and sets me down; something he loves to do to remind me he’s 3 feet taller than i am.

“fucking skxawng”, i mutter under my breath. before i can even turn around to shoot him a dirty look, he picks me up by my waist with one hand, laughing at me kicking him.

“what was that you just said?” he asks, still laughing at me.

i shoot him the dirtiest glare possible, “ i called you a fucking skxawng, skxawng. now put me down before i rip your braid out.”

neteyam laughs and sets me down, walking away like i huff. we both eventually walk over to spider and lo’ak, sitting beside them and admiring the forrest. we all talk and joke around, laughing about stupid jokes and talking about rumors. we eventually get on the topic of crushes, me teasing spider about his growing crush on kiri, neteyam rolling his eyes like lo’ak complains.

“cuz, come on, that’s my sister i don’t need to know that you want to bang her bro. how would that even work anyways, a human and a na’vi??”

i sigh to myself, knowing what lo’ak says about a human being with a na’vi is true and that neteyam and i will probably never grow to something more than just being friends.

little do i know, neteyam is having the same thoughts, wanting and wishing we could be more than friends, when in reality he knows that kissing me is probably off the table because of my exopack.

the conversation between all of us dissipates as we quiet down, all thinking about different things. i stand up and brush my legs off before saying we should head back so we can be home before eclipse. neteyam agrees while our brothers sigh with “do we have too” and “just like 5 more minutes i swear.”

we eventually all start walking back to the ikrans, lo’ak and spider racing each other. neteyam and i trail behind, talking and shoving each other and laughing. i look at him, the sunset shining on his beautiful blue skin and as it gets darker outside his freckles start shining. i realize that my feelings are futile, but it’s hard to be around the most kind, loyal, protective, beautiful man and not get attached.

i sigh, realizing i have gotten caught up in my own head again. when i look back up at him i see him with a sad smile.

“what’s wrong?” i ask.

“it’s nothing.”

“well it’s got to be something, you’re not usually sad for no reason.”

he sighs and says, “really, it’s nothing. we should try to walk faster so we get back before eclipse.”

he starts walking faster towards the ikrans, making me jog to catch up. i grab his hand and stop walking.

“neteyam, please, don’t keep stuff from me. we are best friends, and when we first became friends you promised to always tell me what’s bothering you.”

“stop digging y/n, i don’t want to talk about it right now. i just want us to laugh and talk like usual right now.”

“just tell me so that i can help you and we can go back to normal.”

“i don’t want to talk about it.”

“nete please-“

“fucking stop y/n, i’m not going going to talk about this with you.”

i stand there shocked, not used to him getting angry. he walks off and i follow after him, confused as to why he’s so mad. i know i shouldn’t have pushed but it’s not like him to be so sad.

when we get back to the ikrans lo’ak and spider immediately notice that something’s off, seeing the look on neteyam’s face. when spider and lo’ak look to me i shrug and shake my head. it’s awkwardly silent before neteyam clears his throat and says, “ y/n, how about you ride with lo’ak and spider rides with me tonight.”

lo’ak and spider both whip around and look to me, about to complain about how it’s never been this way when i just shake my head. spider raises an eyebrow at me but walks over to neteyams ikran anyways. i walk to lo’aks, waiting for his to grab me by the waist to help me but he doesn’t. i climb up, and go to hold onto his waist, but i stop and hold his shoulders.

neteyam and spider take off first, lo’ak and i soon after. we sit in science for a little before he asks, “so what happened?”

i sigh, “he just seemed off. he’s been more distant and sad lately, but i guess that’s just a journey of him becoming a man.”

“yeah well he has been stressed out about the whole ‘becoming a man and choosing a mate’ thing. it’s not like there’s not 20 girls that would die for him to stick it in them,” he snickers.

“ew come on lo’ak that’s disgusting.”

“i mean, i know who im choosing when i become a man.”

“the hottest girl who wants me, duh cuz. i mean that’s skxawng has always been picky, but now it seems like he’s trying to always want what he can’t have.”

“what do you mean?”

“come on cuz, you can’t be that blind. did you notice when he started getting all whiny earlier?”

“no? i mean after we talked i guess?”

“and we talked about what...”

i pause, trying to remember.

“ummmmm we talked about how you wanted to bang that girl we saw that was healing you and neteyam’s dumb asses, we talked about how spider is never going to find a na’vi that wants his tiny ass but let’s be honest, him and kiri totally have something going-“

“no you fucking skxawng we talked about humans and na’vi, then neteyam got all whiny and shit.”

i pause, “so?”

“so who is the human that neteyam spends all his time with?”

i stop.

“you’re saying that neteyam likes me?”

“YES THATS WHAT IVE BEEN SAYING AND YOU CLEARLY LIKE HIM TOO”

i blush and laugh, “ lo’ak, there’s no way he likes me. you said it yourself, he was like 30 hot girls lined up for him.”

“he totally does like you-“

“he totally doesn’t-“

“but you like him anyways. that’s the point, it doesn’t matter if you believe me or not because we all know that you two like each other.”

we ride back home in silence, i think about what he has said. could it neteyam actually like me too? is that why he didn’t want to talk about it with me? i wonder what would even happen if he did, it’s not like we could mate.

when we land at home, i get of lo’aks ikran and thank him for telling me. i walk to my tent and lay down, thinking about how this could change everything. i should probably talk to neteyam about it instead of just mulling it over by myself.

i decide to get up and go talk to him, even though i’m scared that lo’ak could be wrong. i mean, what if i talk to him about it and tell him i like him when he doesn’t even like me back? i stand by his family’s tent, not sure if i should go it on not.

while i’m standing there thinking, i don’t notice that neteyam walked up behind me. he taps me on the shoulder and when i turn around i see that it’s him.

“hi.”

“hey?” he says, nervously scratching his neck.

“i think we need to talk, i was about to go in and ask for you.”

“i told you i don’t want to talk about it-“

“lo’ak told me you have a crush on me.”

he stares down at me with wide eyes. i can see his cheeks turn purple as he blushes and he opens and closes his mouth, trying to say something. i grab his hand, my small one grabbing on to 3 of his fingers. i walk us over to my tent, thankfully lo’ak must have gotten spider to stay away for a little.

when we go inside my tent, neteyam looks so nervous that you would think i’m trying to shoot him. he starts rambling, “ listen i don’t know why lo’ak would tell you that because i don’t have a crush on you i mean, you’re my bestfriend that would be kind of weird right? i mean not to say that you’re not funny or pretty, because you definitely are but even if i did like you, i mean how would that even work, i’m na’vi and you’re human and we probably would even be able to kiss because of your exopack and-“

i cut him off, “neteyam, i like you.”

“you do?”

“yeah, i do.”

“but why me, why not lo’ak? or anyone else?”

i look at the floor, “because i don’t want lo’ak. i want you. i want your smile and how funny you are. i want to talk to you and go on your ikran with you. you understand me like no one else. i see you nete.”

i feel a his hand on my chin, guiding me to look up at him. he hugs me, my forehead on his chest.

“i see you y/n,” he says, kissing the top of my head.

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starlightsearches · 1 year

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Yes, absolutely! So. Eddie x FemReader. They are best friends and have this special bond but all of a sudden Eddie pushes her aside for another girl he's dating or is interested in, letting her sit in the reader's seat, canceling traditions of years like movie night, etc. But somehow he wakes up and realizes he has been an ass to her (maybe because he actually wanted to get over his own feelings for her) but the reader isn't so quick to let it all go - she wants him to prove how sorry he is!

Jealousy, Jealousy

📼✨ mixtape milestone ✨📼 requests are open!

thanks for the request, bestie! and an even bigger thanks for your patience 😬 i hope you enjoy!

Eddie Munson x Fem! Reader

Comments likes and reblogs are always appreciated, let me know what you think 💖

Warnings: mostly just language and a little drama and angst and then fluff I think but let me know if I missed anything. I've always wanted to play around with POV switches like this, which is probably why it's taken me so long to finish this one 🙄

You're fuming in the front seat.

Eddie keeps his eyes on the road—more than he probably ever has while driving—afraid that if he even glances in your direction all the smoke you're letting off will start to fog up the windshield. Like he's driving around with a forest fire in his van.

"Listen," he says, even though he's not sure what's going to come after, "it's not even a big deal."

They're the first words out of his mouth since he told you, and they're definitely the wrong ones. Your eyes flash, smoldering at the center like cigarette ends.

Your look may be fire, but your voice is all ice.

"To you."

"What?"

"It's not that big of a deal to you, Eddie," you tell him, shifting against the dirty leather seat like you can't even stand to be near him, "but it is a big deal to me."

Valerie fucking Reed—just thinking her name has you seeing blood. Everything about her puts the wrath of god in you, from the fake-ass pitch of her voice to the way she flips her hair over her shoulder whenever she thinks she's said something clever.

You'd hated her from the moment you'd met her, after the painfully cliche the freaks sit over there cafeteria routine she'd put on for you your very first day in Hawkins. You were more prepared for that shit now—had educated yourself in the art of biting comebacks and fought only with words even when you wanted nothing more than to bash her head into the linoleum tile.

But at a brand new school when you were desperate to make friends? Absolutely devastating.

If you were held at gunpoint and forced to say one honest, nice thing about her, there'd only be one you could offer up: it was her fault you'd met Eddie. With tears still stinging in your eyes, you'd carried your lunch tray in the direction of her pointed finger, falling into the nearest empty chair and tucking your chin into your chest so no one would see you cry.

That was when Eddie swooped in, big doe eyes and denim vest rattling with pins, and a thousand stupid jokes—not exactly a knight in shining armor but you'd never wanted one of those anyway.

Now Valerie wants to take him away from you, too.

Eddie drums his hands on the wheel, fidgeting with the volume on the tape he'd let you choose to soften the blow. He let's Fleetwood Mac fill the empty space between you, all the words he should say replaced with Stevie's soft vocals.

He's not used to fighting with you. Your friendship has always been as easy as breathing—except when it's not.

. . . But you really can't be blamed for that. It's not your fault he feels all weird inside every time you smile.

He wishes you'd smile at him now.

"You know," you say, feet planted on his dash and your chair pushed all the way back, "I didn't say shit when you started ditching me at lunch to deal to her and her friends, or when you skipped on movie nights for all those parties she threw because I get why you had to go, but a fucking date?"

"She just needs a place to smoke . . ." Eddie mumbles, skin hot at the word date.

You roll your eyes with enough bite he actually feels the sting.

"Right. She just needs to get high with you at your place, because she has nowhere else to go.”

Your lips drip with venomous sarcasm—absolutely soaked through with the belief that he couldn't possibly sit in the same room as Valerie and not touch her.

Do you really have so little faith in him? Eddie's got way more self-control than either of you would give him credit for. There's never been a moment he hasn't wanted his hands on you, and he's alone with you all the time.

“Come on,” he says, swallowing so his voice won't crack, “we do that.”

“It’s different," you snap back quickly.

Yeah it fucking is, he thinks, but Eddie doesn't say a word. Maybe the silence will speak for itself—or maybe it could, if you'd let it.

You carve a frustrated hand through your hair, staring him down. “Like, how do you think it would feel for you if I went out with fucking Jason Carver?"

He resists the urge to gag. "It's not like that."

It's really not like that. Just the thought of it has Eddie feeling both sick and violent, unsure if he was more likely to throw a punch or throw up.

He takes the turn into your driveway, watching you collect your stuff with a brutal speed.

"Yes it is, Eddie," you tell him as you slide from your seat before he's even fully hit the breaks, "actually, it's worse. Because Jason is a dick to everybody, and Valerie's got some fucking target on my back. I wouldn't be surprised if this was all part of some evil plan of hers to make me jealous because—"

You cut yourself off immediately, words stoppered by some invisible dam, eyes wide. Eddie's body goes cold when you slam the door without saying goodbye, stomping off to your doorstep.

He scrambles for his seat belt, practically falling out of the van in attempt to catch up to you before you get inside.

"Wait a second," Eddie says, holding the door open with his hand and trying to catch his breath, "why would that make you jealous?"

You scuff the toe of your boot against the step. "Nothing, it's stupid."

Eddie raises a brow, but you can’t look at his big, brown, beautiful eyes right now, tracing down along his leather sleeve to where his hand is planted against the door, black-painted nails splayed wide and already chipping, although you only did them a few nights ago.

Rude that the only time you get to hold him is when you're doing him a favor.

"Stupid how?" he asks.

You shrug. "I dunno . . . she just thinks I have a crush on you or something."

It's a surprise he hadn't already heard; about half of the girl's locker room were still stripping out of their gym clothes when Valerie had to bring everybody's attention to your black lace bra, before sharing a few theories on who you were wearing it for.

"Like I said, stupid." You ignore the heat in your cheeks, gripping the door again and trying to force it shut, but Eddie's not finished.

You wouldn’t notice, but his chest is heaving under his black t-shirt, palm sweating against the door. A crush? On him?

Is Valerie as delusional as he is?

"Wait," —his mouth is on a roll before his brain has caught up— "do- do you?"

Your eyes go wide with surprise, and then shrink into slits as you push him back from the door, one hot hand planted against his chest.

"Fuck you, Eddie," —he catches the words just before the slam— "fuck you for real."

It wasn't a no.

He repeats the words in his mind like he’s casting a protection spell. Like it’s some kind of ward against your anger as he scales the tree outside your window.

It’s harder than it looks, and he’s already making it look pretty difficult—but one hand’s busy clinging to the greasy paper bag packed full with burgers and those crispy tater tots you love. He manages to wiggle his way up to your window sill without losing his pants, even though the tears at his knees got caught on every twig and branch he passed.

Eddie steals a glance of you through the sheer curtains, holding back his fist from knocking. Just so he can look at you properly, without all the static of having you look back.

You're stretched out on your bed, feet in the air and headphones caught over your ears while you flip through the pages of a book. He hasn't seen these pajamas before—the little shorts that just cup the edge of your ass, and a sheer tank top. His nails are leaving little indents in his palm.

Eddie hasn't made a sound, but with the way his eyes are tracing over you, you gotta feel it. You find him at the window, and he panics, rapping his knuckles against the glass a second too late.

You roll you eyes at him, but at least you let him in.

There are honest-to-god butterflies in Eddie's stomach when he flops beside you on the bed. And he wouldn't lie—at least not to himself—but he'd tried to feel something like this before, when Valerie first started paying all that attention to him.

Her manicured hand would brush over the sleeve of his jacket while he'd be getting her product and he'd wait for this same feeling, hoping he had a weakness for all pretty girls, that any attention would him stumbling over his words and these feelings didn't have to be the end of the best friendship he'd ever had.

But it's you.

You cross your arms over your chest, frowning. "What are you doing here?"

Eddie's smile is sheepish, but not nearly apologetic enough for your taste. He holds up the paper bag in his hand, dotted with dark splotches where the grease leaked through. It lets out the heavenly scent of fried food.

"I brought dinner, you know, for movie night."

He slips a tray of tater tots from the bag, and you're resolve falters. You hold back your hand from reaching for one even though you already know how incredible it would taste, the little rivulets of salt and shining grease coating the golden skin.

"What about Valerie?" you ask, stealing your eyes away from the junk food. You hate how petulant your voice sounds.

He just shrugs, pouring out some ketchup onto the tray, licking the excess off of his pinky finger. "Told her I had other plans."

Eddie pops a tater tot into his mouth and bites down with a heavy crunch, but it feels like your heart's the thing being popped between his teeth.

And what more were you expecting? That he'd tell her to fuck off and take her money and friends with her? She's the queen of Hawkins, and you're . . . not.

Maybe you and Eddie are both delusional—or stubborn—enough to pretend like you don't care about the politics of high school, but people had abandoned their morals for less.

“So you blew both of us off, then?”

He pauses mid-bite, like a prey animal, like if he doesn’t move you can’t be mad at him.

“What?” he mumbles through a mouthful of chewed-up potatoes.

You snatch a tater tot from the tray, chewing and swallowing even though your stomach is starting to churn because something bad is going to happen and you can feel it coming like a storm in the air.

“Why are you here, Eddie?”

“I- uh, to say sorry,” he stutters.

The food's getting cold in his hands before you respond.

“What’re you sorry for?”

What’s he sorry for? Eddie has a whole list: sorry for making a fool of myself, sorry for hanging out with Valerie because I thought it might make you jealous, sorry sorry sorry for trying so hard to get over you and doing such a bad job at it.

“I, you know . . . I shouldn’t have made other plans on movie night.”

Those were the wrong words again. Crazy how easy it is for him to fuck this up—like it was something he was born with.

For a second, Eddie thinks you'll yell at him, and he's comforted by that. If you yell at him, you still care.

You take in a deep breath, and Eddie braces himself. He can take whatever you give him, will shoulder any insults you hurl and forgive you for it the second it's over.

But your shoulders slump. You let out a heavy sigh.

And he knows he can't take that.

"I'm really, really tired, Eddie," —you won't even look him in the eyes when you say it, sliding the window open again,—"see you tomorrow?"

But Eddie doesn't see you for two whole days.

That's a fucking record.

He thought you might need space, you know. So he gave you Saturday to cool off, kicked around at the trailer and gave Wayne vague answers about why you weren't around and ignoring the look in the old man's eyes. Listening to sad records and getting high and trying not to stare at your smile in all the photos plastered on his wall.

Sunday, Eddie drove by your house with the volume all the way up on your favorite Rolling Stones album, windows down while he idled at the curb. There was a twitch in the curtains, but you weren't there to shout at him for all the noise before climbing in on the passenger side.

Eddie knocked at your door this morning, hoping at least you’d want a ride to school. Your mom opened it with a sad little frown, telling him you’d already taken your bike.

And really, the two days have only ended on a technicality. Eddie sees you right now, reading a book with your head bent low, sitting at the far end of another table.

"Hey—" Eddie twitches when the flying french fry lands against his cheek with a wet slap— "are you gonna go talk to her, or did you just wanna stare?"

Mike laughs at his own joke, and the other guys giggles along.

Eddie's used to the ribbing. He's never minded it—when you're not around. Kind of enjoyed it a little. Even with his heated cheeks and stammered shut ups that completely gave him away, he needed somebody to acknowledge what he was feeling. It made it more real.

But Eddie's not in the mood for jokes today. And he doesn't need anybody to remind him that he's in way over his head with you.

He shoots the freshmen a look that works just as well as throwing a hand over their mouths—without the risk of being licked—and brushes the potato chunks from his hair while the rest of Hellfire pick timidly at their lunches.

And Eddie goes back to staring.

This time, though, you're staring back.

He meets your eyes. Just for a second, wide with surprise before you snap your head back in the direction of your book, tucking your nose between the pages. Doesn't matter how quick you were though. Eddie caught the look you were giving him.

And his heart is beating hard, like it did on the day he first met you. His limbs all staticky and weird, palms sweating because even from the first second he knew you existed he's wondered what kissing you would feel like and the question never left his head.

Eddie's on his feet before he can think about how bad of an idea this is.

"Hey," Dustin calls to him through a mouthful of square pizza, "what're you doing?"

Eddie just shrugs.

"Probably something stupid."

You can see Eddie's long legs moving in your direction from the corner of your eye, and your stomach drops out of your ass like a dip on a roller coaster in the dark and you can't see the end. He says something to the guys—his lips are moving—but you can't make it out over the sound of the cafeteria rumble, the chatter of the other girls sitting at the same table as you, talking animatedly about all the dates they went on over the weekend and completely ignoring your presence.

You dip your head closer to the pages of your book, so close all the words blur together, trying to hide from Eddie like you've been hiding the past few days. You shouldn't have even glanced in his direction, should have let the burn of his presence so close and still too far away swallow you up.

It’s getting hotter with every step he takes toward you, and you’re getting smaller, body tight and your lips caught between your teeth.

He slides quietly into the seat beside you, fingers drumming against the table, and the sound feels louder now that the girls have quieted down, not-so-sneakily listening in on whatever's about to go down between you and Eddie—hungry like sharks for any new gossip, ready to spread the nitty-gritty about why the freaks are fighting.

Eddie dips his head down, eyes big and already so sorry it feels like a punch to the gut.

"Hey," he whispers, trying to smile and failing miserably, "come here often?"

You try to smile back, but it's not much better. "Hey, Eds."

It's quiet, but not the comfortable kind of quiet you're used to around Eddie. It's a hot and sweaty quiet, a trapped-in-a-car kind of summer burn that makes your lungs go shallow.

Eddie perks up, the first words he can think of spilling out of his mouth.

"The guys were thinking about going to the record store after school. Would you wanna come?"

You wouldn't have thought for a second about refusing an invite like that a week ago. Heaven was nothing compared to wandering around a music store with Eddie.

"I don't know if I can today," you say instead, and then when you see the look of hurt on his face, you soften the blow with, "I gotta go to the library for some . . . stuff."

He hums. "Stuff?"

You shrug, playing with the pages of your book. If you're quiet enough, maybe he'll give up.

But he doesn't go anywhere. His hands stay planted on the table, silent and still for once. The black nail polish is almost completely chipped off his nails—probably picked off and littered all over the linoleum.

Eddie's voice is a whisper when he breaks the silence. "Are we gonna talk about it?"

"About what, Eds?"

"Why you're so mad at me . . ."

You've seen Eddie through a lot of shit, but you've never seen a look like this on him—eyes like saucers and brimming with shiny tears.

And you thought being in love with him was rough, but hurting him is a thousand times worse.

"I'm not mad at you, Eddie," you admit, hiding your eyes in the palms of your hands and pressing down until you see stars, "it's just . . ."

You don't get to finish your sentence.

Valerie's calling Eddie's name from across the whole fucking cafeteria. You watch her waving, standing on her tip-toes like she's not the only place in the room anybody can look, like every facet of her doesn't already scream give me attention!

Eddie sandwiches his lips together, pressing until they turn white. You're not going to like whatever he has to say next.

So you slip the dagger from his fingers, standing from the table. He can't hurt you if you hurt yourself first on his behalf.

"Actually, we can talk about this later," you tell him, slipping your bag on over your shoulder.

"Hey—"

There's sparks in your hand where he holds you, an eruption of butterflies in your stomach. It's just your hand in his, but that's all it takes for you to forget yourself, eyes caught on his soft mouth and pink tongue.

Valerie's approaching. You can see her stalking toward you over Eddie's shoulder. There's no room for vulnerability within a mile radius of her. You've got to get away before she sees all the softest parts of you exposed and decides to go for the jugular.

The door's within reach when the room goes quiet. Quiet enough Eddie doesn't even have to raise his voice when he says your name.

He's no stranger to standing on tables, but it's the first time you've seen him look so awkward, hands swinging at his sides in tight fists.

"I- I think I might be in love with you," Eddie says, "and I'm really, really sorry."

There's a chorus of ooooooooooohs from the audience, and maybe a few confused whispers from all the people who passively assumed you were already dating. Then all eyes are on you, waiting.

It's too fucking hot in this room, and your vision's starting to blur at the edges, feeling like you're on a stage and you can't remember the next line after Eddie's verbal punch to your gut.

You mumble a sound, falling backwards through the door and into the safety of the hallway.

Eddie's down off the table as soon as you disappear from the cafeteria, totally ignorant to the laughter and the jeers from all the dickheads watching.

Valerie's in his line of sight when he hits the ground.

"That was weird," she says, and Eddie can't tell if she's purposefully getting in his way, or if she's just got that aura of somebody who could tackle you to the ground but would never bother because she doesn't have to. "I mean I always knew she was a freak but—"

"Fuck off."

Eddie really would like to get into it more with her, maybe mention that he's been up-charging Valerie every time she mentioned your name, or that half the stuff he's been selling her was mixed with ten-year old spices from the cupboard above the oven.

There's more noise, but nobody else trying to get in his way, the path clear all the way to the door.

It's quiet in the hallway, and that alone leaves Eddie disoriented, swinging his head wildly, unsure which way you went.

"I'm down here."

You're on the floor a few feet away, head rested back against one of the lockers, and all of the bad shit goes away. It's that simple—like a light-switch—Eddie's panicked, and then he's not.

You're looking up at him with a soft kind of smile, despite the tight look in your eyes and sheen over your skin.

He slides down to the floor, long legs stretched out into the empty hall, shoes leaving little scuff marks across the linoleum.

"I'm sorry,"—you tell him as soon as he hits the ground, "about, you know. It was just, um, a lot."

"Don't be," he laughs, "that wasn't the smartest idea I've ever had."

The smartest idea he ever had was talking to you that first day, snatching you up before anybody else could.

Your tongue snakes out from between your lips, and Eddie has to physically hold himself back from tasting you. Your eyes dropped to his lap, your voice is small when you ask, "did you mean it?"

"Yeah, honey,"—probably should've kept the nickname to himself— "meant every word."

He's about to mumble something like, but if you don't feel the same it's totally fine, even though it definitely wouldn't be, when your head drops onto his shoulder.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I don't know . . . just felt like a personal problem."

You laugh, and the sound shakes through him.

"I dunno, Eds. You being in love with me kinda sounds like something that I'd wanna know."

"I'll keep that in mind, for next time," he whispers. You're looking up at him with those big, soft eyes, breath pillowing against his face.

"It's the same for me," you tell him, "in case you were wondering."

In all the time Eddie's thought about kissing you, he never imagined it happening like this—on the floor with somebody's combination lock digging into his back. With your hands in his hair and the dull roar of the lunchroom somewhere nearby and his thumb tracing along your jaw and you smiling against his lips.

He was definitely missing out.

There's the metal clank of the door, and a chorus of footsteps somewhere down the hall. Eddie recognizes Dustin's voice.

"Oh my god, dude. Fucking finally."

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson angst #eddie munson #requests #my writing #eddie munson fluff

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