#he brushed some hair out of my face and I think I am in love

[sinisternymphette]

fade into you - modern au!levi

because...I've been thinking about him recently... this is just a cute little self-indulging fic I made.. this is the first time I've ever written him so I apologize if he's a bit uncharacteristic. (also I wrote this in 2 am) Two pov's are here!! (use of f!reader)

⎯ 1984, huh. Good read, classic. You heard a gruff voice speak to you, making you look up almost immediately. Your gaze was met with a rather short middle-aged man's cold yet beautiful silver-blue eyes, his lips an unamused thin line which held no emotion in them. He was wearing an apron, which meant he was one of the people working in the quaint little teashop you were in. You tilted your head slightly to the side in confusion, blinking slowly as if you were a feline. However, you soon figured out he was talking about the book you were so carefully holding- 1984 by George Orwell. He was one of your favorite authors, so earlier this week, you were giddy to learn that your local library had more of his works. And so, you had to pick the next one on your list.

a faint ''oooh!'' left your mouth, staring at him and giving him a brief nod as a close-mouthed smile started to form on your glossy lips a little awkwardly. You gave a quick side glance at the menu that laid on the old and rounded wooden table before you met his eyes again.

⎯ Umm yeah, you started, voice vibrating slightly in a sheepish response to the unexpected comment. No one had ever come up to you before to mention the book you were reading. In fact, this was the first time you've caught a stranger's attention, no matter the reason. In a flick of a moment, you looked at the man in front of you up and down- he had short and straight, sleek black hair which was styled in an undercut curtain. He had dark circles under his eyes, something that you could relate to- though yours weren't as noticeable as his. His appearance almost reminded you to a sickly victorian child mixed with a history teacher, especially because of his stature and choice of clothing. He was wearing a white long-sleeved shirt under his apron, dark brown trousers with a black leather belt and simple black oxfords.

⎯ I love his books. Animal Farm is one of my favorites- actually. You continued, a slight glimmer in your eyes as you spoke softly in almost a murmur. You placed the book on your lap before bringing one of your hands to brush some strands out of your face, placing them under your ears. ⎯ short, but a masterpiece.

The black-haired man's expression remained the same, though you were also met with a slight scoff. He seemed to be unamused, despite his interest in the beginning. This made you pout faintly, only a little. ⎯ Hm, I can agree with that. he mumbled, cold eyes meeting yours again and crossed his arms in front of his chest. His gaze and tone of voice might have made him seem uninterested and cold, but somehow, he still gave off a somewhat 'welcoming' aura, which was strange- to say the least. You guessed he was one of them closed-off types. ⎯ Did you sit here only to talk about Orwell, or do you actually want to drink some tea as well? he suddenly asked, which caught you completely off-guard. You slowly brought your hands together over the book that was sitting on your lap to fidget your fingers with each other in a nervous manner, a tiny frown forming on your features where once laid a soft expression. Usually, people were easy for you to read- but this man seemed like a puzzle, an enigma. Part of you thought that he was simply an asshole, while the other wanted to believe he didn't mean to come off like that- especially by the immediate reaction he had to his own words, his silver slits of eyes widening by the slightest, a glimmer of regret behind them. Still, you didn't want to assume. ⎯ Oh. That was all what was able to come out for a few moments, disappointment and shock carrying that simple word. You glanced to the side. ⎯ Right. Sorry. I'll be getting an hmm.. Arrowroot tea. Small cup, please. A glass of water with that, too. You were finally able to word something, and despite your attempts at sounding firm like him, you came off more awkward than you wanted to, voice as soft as a feather. Oops, so much for being strong and confident.

His gaze lingered on you for a few moments, silence filling the air around the both of you. ⎯ Mhm. With that, he simply gave you a nod, turned around and walked back behind the counters of the shop where all the brewing equipment and coffee-making machines were, murmuring briefly with the other person working there- A brunette, young woman -who seemed to be some years younger than you- with wide brown eyes and her hair up in a ponytail, wearing an apron like the man's. The woman's gaze landed on yours, though you quickly glanced away, staring right down onto your book. He probably said something rude about you to her, despite the fact that you didn't do anything. You just knew it, you felt it.

Your thoughts, however, were interrupted after a few minutes by the sudden sound of him clearing his throat, standing right next to you. You perked your head up ⎯ Here. He placed the warm cup on the table, not bothering to look at you. ⎯ It's 3 dollars. In a swift motion, you opened the zipper of the bag that was sitting on the chair next to yours and pulled out your purse, taking out the pennies of money you owed. Before you were able to turn your back and hand him the money, he placed a small and pretty little porcelain rounded plate in front of you, 2 scones with strawberry jam on it. Strange.. you didn't order those. ⎯ I think you got my order wrong, I didn't ask fo- you spoke up as you turned, though your words were immediately cut off by his husky voice. ⎯ On the house. his gaze softened to some extent, except it switched back to his former one in a blink of an eye. You looked back to the scones, then looked at him again with clear confusion as you gave him the money- your fingers touching his for only seconds before they didn't anymore. Was this because he felt bad about the rudeness from before, or did the girl he was with talked some sense into him? Maybe your hearing was broken. ⎯ Really? you almost blurted out, which caused him to chuff in response, slightly rolling his eyes. ⎯ Yes. Take it or leave it. Despite the roughness that came off with that sentence and the stoic expression on his face, he seemed to have done it as an attempt to hide the way the thin lines of his lips curled up- however minuscule it was. You honestly found it a bit funny and strange, why he was trying to act like such an angry and grumpy little old man instead of just..being normal. ⎯ Uh..thanks, I guess. You replied, rewarding him with a soft smile as you took the cup and brought it to your lips, taking a small sip while you sniffed, enjoying the tea's smell.

⎯ Enjoy your tea. He replied with a brief nod of his head while his gaze remained on you for a short moment before he eventually let out a scoff, though it didn't really seem to be from annoyance, but from something else. You weren't 100% sure though. He then turned away once again and went back to tidying up some tables, occasionally glancing your way. You didn't pay much attention to him though because as soon as he left; you opened your book, took out the lace page marker you had carefully placed in the last page you've been reading, placed it back on the table and got emerged in the story. You furrowed your eyebrows, a sign you were concentrated and not paying attention to your surroundings while you hummed softly to yourself.

Levi walked back to his spot after restlessly cleaning the same table for the past 10 minutes. He had a frown on his face, a dark and gloomy expression as he huffed, using his arm to wipe off some of the little sweat that was starting to form on his forehead. He got behind the counter while Gabi took the task of making the tea, and she quickly turned to look at him as she brewed the order she just got. An amused smile played on her lips, snickering softly which made Levi give her a scowl. ⎯ What do you want, brat. he murmured, bringing his hand to pinch his temples. He was way too embarrassed already, having pulled that stupid little stunt back there and acting like a complete ass to that woman. He didn't even mean to say what he did, but for some reason, the woman made his words get caught in his throat- and it made him confused, it was an unusual thing to happen, a new feeling, so he didn't like that. Still, that wasn't an excuse to act the way he did. And internally, he was still cussing at himself. ⎯ Sooo, did she accept the scones? She asked, a playful glint in her eyes as she waited for his response. Levi sighed. ⎯ What do you think? You see them in my hands? Gabi nodded, understanding what he meant and that it was a warning for her to mind her own business. As much as she loved teasing the old man, she didn't like getting on his bad side, especially if he was already having a rough day. Levi stood there, crossing his arms and leaning over the counter next to the cash register as his gaze traveled through the shop, though his eyes always seemed to land on the woman's even if he didn't intend to. Damnit.

He wasn't sure what caused him to be like this. Usually, he was too focused on his work to even notice the clients he was having. He didn't care about socializing with any of them, or making any new friends. After all, he was already happy with the ones he already had- Falco and Gabi, who were his adopted children, his best friends Erwin, Hange, Miche and Onyankopon, and his dumbass almost-siblings Isabel and Furlan. He didn't need anyone else, nor wanted anyone else. So why was his body acting against his mind?

⎯ She's real pretty she whispered, trying to act discreetly as she nodded towards her with her head, leaning against the wall next to Levi. He shrugged, clearly unamused by her comment as he glanced down, acting as if he was tiding the cash inside the cash register. He didn't respond, just glanced towards the woman's way every few moments. Gabi then left to tend a costumer, a tray on one of her hands with a warm cup of tea.

Some times passed, and you finally got out of the trance-like state you were in as your read your book, head perking up as you yawned softly. Drinking tea always made you sleepy, which was a pleasant feeling. It calmed you down, especially while reading. A content sigh escaped your lips, and you slowly stood up to grab your bag and put your things inside before you fixed your now slightly messy hair. ⎯ Done with your tea, huh. you heard the now familiar cold voice speak up behind you, realizing he was probably waiting for you to finish all this time. You nodded his way, turning fully to look at him correctly. ⎯ Yup, tea and scones were very good, thank you. You replied, your voice sounding more kind now. You looked at the now empty cup in your hand before looking at him, making a small chuckle ⎯ Do I leave this here, or is there a trash can where I can drop this? he shook his head, pulling up his hand in a way of saying no. ⎯ Leave it here. he said with usual tone, his silver eyes looking up and down at you, almost as if he was scanning you. He then took a cloth from his pocket and started to wipe the table clean, no longer looking at you and his expression immediately became stoic again. And so, with that, you started to walk away without looking back. You were tired now, and all you wanted was to go home, take a warm bath and loath on your bed. However, as you were about to open the door, the bell chiming softly, you heard his voice again. ⎯ Will you be coming here again? Your eyes widened as you listened, the tone in his voice almost sounding hopeful, even if it was just a little bit. You turned to look at him one last time, nodding. ⎯ I really liked this place. So yeah, I probably will.

You didn't know, but deep down inside of him, with those simple words you just spoke, a warm and fuzzy feeling stirred in his tummy, even if all he did was nod in response and turn to keep doing what he was doing. A tiny, small, minuscular but content smile almost appeared on his lips. He was glad. Glad that he would see you again, and he couldn’t wait for you to return, as much as he tried to convince himself he didn't.

@sinisternymphette 2024

#✦ . ࣪ ׅ fics #levi ackerman #levi aot #shingeki no kyojin #aot #attack on titan #aot x reader #aot fic #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi x reader #levi x you #levi ackerman fluff #dividers by dollywons

[alpydk]

To @auroraesmeraldarose - I said I would write something romantic for you so here it is. With only a sprinkling of angst (because I just can't help it) - I present to you:

The List.

Romance/Angst/Mostly comfort (I hope) - 1397 words Gale x Tav (They/Them no description) - SFW

Gale had watched for some time how Tav had scribbled on the notepad before gazing into the campfire as if searching for the answers buried in the ashes. Their head would lift only to fall again, a word being written, then erased. It reminded him of his own days with a mostly drunk glass of red wine and a quill in hand, trying to come up with the next line of poetry that cause the lover to fall to their knees for him.

He slowly approached, his heart increasing its pace with the apprehension of what was to come. He enjoyed Tav’s company, always feeling he was learning something new. Being seen for who I am. Tav was a good person, one that had helped, listened to everyone, cared more than anyone he had ever met before, and despite the more pronounced ache he felt whenever he was near them, he fought through it for the quiet moments alone with them. He remembered the night channelling the weave, the way their hands had brushed up against one another, the way he had felt their longing, and the image of a tender kiss placed on his lips. Is this love? No, not for me. It can’t be.  

He swallowed nervously before he spoke. “My friend, may I ask what it is you are writing?”

Tav jumped a little, surprised by Gale’s sudden words, and placed the paper face down onto their lap. “This? Nothing… nothing at all.”

Gale nodded his head and took a small step back, trying not to acknowledge the feeling of rejection that was surfacing beneath his pleasant expression. “Ah, my apologies then. I will leave you to your thoughts.” He turned to go back to his tent as he heard the hesitant voice behind him.

“No…” Tav pushed their hair back and relaxed their shoulders. “Join me, please.”

Gale tried to hide his enthusiasm at this simple gesture. He was aware his year alone had made him too eager for basic conversation and he’d now got into a habit of remaining distant with people. Part of him was aware his social skills had diminished, and another part didn’t want him to form connections based on his own dwindling condition. He placed himself next to Tav, keeping a respectable distance and ignoring the dull thrum of the orb excited at the prospects.

Tav lowered their head, a soft smile masked by the focus of turning over the pages and looking at the cluttered mess on the paper. “I don’t think you would want to help me so much if you knew what it was I was writing.”

Gale placed a comforting hand on Tav’s arm, feeling the delicate cotton of the shirt under his palm. Warmth rose in his cheeks, and he silently cursed his body for betraying him. A glade of calm and tranquillity. “Well, let me be the one to decide upon that. As you know, I’m quite the connoisseur of the literary arts. Even Volo’s poetry has not turned me away from reading or writing.”

Tav chuckled at his response. “You know how tomorrow we are going to the Goblin Camp? There’s a real chance we might not…” They danced around the words, trying not to appear insensitive but ultimately giving up. “We might die.”

“Hm.” Gale understood perfectly why Tav was struggling and why they hadn’t initially wanted to discuss this with him. Talking about potential death with someone destined to die was not the easiest of conversations to have. How could they even relate to his situation? “So, you are writing your last wishes, I assume?”

Tav wordlessly handed over the paper and Gale held it towards the firelight, trying to make out the scrawl in front of him. The handwriting was unique to say the least, but the out of context words made it all even more peculiar. Stars…. Hollyphant…. Falling… “Tav, I may be able to decipher some of the most ancient of texts, but I must say, this has me baffled.”

Their voice was quiet as they replied, embarrassed by the list that lay between them. “It’s a bucket list.”

“But my dear, I have little doubt that you will survive the days to come. Why create something like this?” A small part of him felt heartbroken to even think of Tav’s death as imminent and yet a part of him was curious. What dreams lay in his friend’s mind? Could any of them ever hold a small place for me?

“I wish I had your optimism. No, I’m making it because all this-“ They gestured to their head, the tadpole writhing within. “-It just reminds me that life isn’t as long as it was before. That each day moments go by that I should have seized. From the big things, like travelling and love…” They looked over at him with a softness in their eyes that made him wish he could just kiss them there and then. “…To the little things, like watching the stars at night, or giving a gift to a friend.”

Gale looked curiously at the list, trying to make out more of the words. Falling in… “You’ve done none of these things before?”

Tav shook their head. “Time just seems to escape me. We have so few stars in the city and if I’m honest, I’ve never had many friends.”

“Hm, that I can unfortunately relate to. Might I offer a suggestion, though?” He moved closer to them, his heart thumping, his mind rushing through various scenarios over various outcomes. Kiss them. It’s too soon. Wind your fingers in between theirs. Hold them and never let go. Love them. Falling in love…

“And what might that be? Compare notes? I can assure you; my list will be longer and more pathetic.”

He placed his hand over theirs, trying to act casual and not bring attention to the vulnerable state he was putting his body in at this moment; the orb screaming into his system at the proximity of another person after so long. “No, my dear, let me have the list. Think of it as a gift, a puzzle that I can work on during the long nights. And from there, maybe I can assist you with the rest of your wishes.”

Tav smiled, scratching off a line from the paper. “I guess that makes it one wish fulfilled, then.”

Gazing at each other, they both seemed to become lost in one another’s eyes, an unknown energy pulling them together that neither wanted to fight against. Tav brought their hand to Gale’s face, both coming together wishing to make the previously imagined kiss a reality. He could feel the heat of Tav’s breath upon his lips, smell the earth and pine from their clothes, and in that moment, he wanted them. He wanted nothing more than to feel those lips upon his and lose himself in them.

It started with a pinching in his hand but slowly grew; the orb letting both be aware of its presence and Gale was forced to pull himself back, attempting to make his body relax from the tension. He looked at Tav, his deep brown eyes apologetic, a feeling as if he had been misleading them. I’m sorry for what I am.

Tav brought their hand away as Gale had flinched backwards in clear pain. “Are you okay?”

“Do not concern yourself with me. It’s just with my condition…” He sighed deeply, wishing it didn’t have to be this way.

“I understand.”

Tav pulled themselves close to him, so they were sitting shoulder to shoulder, still touching, but no longer as intimately. He gazed at them as they looked up towards the sky, and he traced the line of their neck up to their jaw, imagining gentle kisses being placed and their hair draped over his face as he nuzzled into them.

“I suppose this is another I can cross off already.”

Gale drew his attention from his friend, instead following their line-of-sight upwards. The sky was clear of clouds, allowing the stars to shine down on them brightly and they sat for some time in silence, enjoying the quiet moment together.

Eventually, sleep beckoned and Tav retired to their tent, leaving Gale alone under the night sky with his thoughts. I could create stars like this for you… I would become a star for you.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 gale #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #gale bg3 #bg3 fanfiction #galemance #im sorry if there is angst #i tried #really i did

[magnificentstrawberryomen]

Indiposed (Noah Sebastian fanfic)

18+

Autors note: hi, thank you sm for taking the time to read my story! please let me know what u think of it. also, english is not my first language so i'm sorry if there will be any grammar and/or spellings mistakes, im trying my best :)

Summary: Hailey Clark is Noah's dressing assistant, and has been working for him and the rest of Bad Omens for half an year now. Hailey and Noah have always been attracted to each other, making teasing and sometimes flirtatious jokes back and forth, and became very close and caring for each other since the start of Hailey working for them. They always waited for that one right moment to finally give in to their desire for each other, but there hasn't been one yet, also with the fear of others and their management. Until that one after party after a succesful show arrives and they simply cannot hide their feelings for oneanother anymore, with all its consequences...

CW/TW's throughout the story: Smut, sexual talk, mentioning religion, mention of ed and (bad) mental health/depression, bad relationship with parents/family, christian family history, alcohol use, smoking (cigarettes) [if i forgot something please let me know]

prologue

The sigh that escaped from my mouth wasn't as calm as I hoped to be. I have been looking everywhere for my just newly bought makeup brushes that I've just used for Jolly half an hour ago. How the hell did I already lose them? Lead singer Noah Sebastian-basically the star of the show-is the last band member left for makeup and dressing. Of course.

I've been their personal makeup and dressing assistant for half a year now. The job pays quite well, I was already very impressed by the band and their music before doing this and I can do something I love every day, so I've been feeling very thankful for being able to do this. Through the last six months I have built a very close bond and friendship with the band and the rest of the crew, something that has helped even more with doing this every day.

Tonight will be a pretty big show, so being stressed is an understatement right now. I am quite the perfectionist, so my makeup brushes suddenly missing now is just as chaotic in my head as how the dressing room currently is. `Goddamnit,´ I curse to myself. 

`Seems like someone is in need of some assistance,´ I hear Noah saying, so I turn around to look at him with hopeless eyes. A grin is appearing on his face as he walks over to me, and I have no energy right now to make a remark back to him. That's quite how our friendship has been built up to-make (sarcastic, playful or mostly from Noah's side, sassy) remarks to each other, teasing, or mess with each other. Sure, we can have some normal conversations as well, but we love to get to each other most of the time.

I can tell he freshly washed his mid-length hair as it is still a little damp, and it covers his eyes for a moment so he pushes it back with his hand. He wears a simple black shirt and short pants, with half-worn sneakers underneath and a bottle of water in his other hand where he has drinked out before. 

`You are the last member I need to style. I can't seem to find my damn brushes anywhere…´

`Relax, darling, you'll be fine. Maybe I can help you with your brush set?´ he says in a sort of playful way, and I quickly roll with my eyes, not in the mood to joke about it right now.

`Please, Noah, I'm trying not to freak out. You should know by now how important being organized and scheduled is to me. You guys have to go up on stage in like…´ I look at the watch on my right wrist, and my eyes grow wide. `An hour and a half. Oh shit.´

`Well, that's a lot of time darling, what's the rush?´ Noah answers, looking at his own watch himself, and then back to me. His face remains calm, and I know he is saying this and acting like this to keep me calm and focused myself. I know he can be a little control freak himself, but he has gotten pretty good at making sure I am more stable before him. He knows how my brain works by now, and I have always found it a sweet gesture that he cares more about my own sanity most of the time than his.

`Well, everything just has to go…´

´Perfectly. I know,´ he finishes my sentence before I can. Like I said, he knows me too well by now. 

`And it won't be without those brushes?´ Noah raises his eyebrows slightly with the corners of his mouth slightly curled. 

`Noah, think about the lighting. The different kinds of colors, the almost 2 hours you guys have to perform-no offense but, that sweat needs to be at least a little bit covered. And then there's your outfit…´ I ramble on, and I know that I might sound insane, but I don't care at this moment-I just want my makeup set to be complete, goddamnit.

He slightly chuckles, and says: `Fine, fine, let's go look for your brushes…´ 

He moves closer to me and puts my hand on my hip while doing so, a little amused smile now forming on his lips.

`Focus,´ I mumble, trying to ignore his touch. I must admit that sometimes, moments like these are hard to resist for me. We have not only built a great friendship in the last half year, but also a kind of mutual attraction to each other. There have been moments where we can be touchy, sometimes n79t even thinking much about it or realizing it-and no one has really reacted weird to it, not even the rest of the band or the crew. They have gotten used to it by now, and so have we. But, sometimes the touch can be or feel a little… intense. I can feel myself wishing for more, I can feel the tension in the air, I can see the twinkle and desire in his eyes… and I am sure I have looked at him the same way every time. We never really had a moment to act into it, or the confidence, I guess. We just let it happen and let it go after. Well, also because I want to at least try to keep our relationship still a little bit professional as well, since I love this job and I do not want to lose it.

Noah rolls his eyes and removes his hand from my hip, and just as he does that, he takes the warmth of his body with him, but he doesn't move away from me. `Yeah, yeah, I'm focused… lead the way,´he responds with a playful grin on his face, moving just a little closer to still feel his proximity. 

I tell him spots to look at, and at some point I am even looking through my own damn lunchbox, but I sigh out of relief when I find the brushes in a not well lit corner of the dressing room (are we surprised that their dressing rooms are mostly very dark?) underneath a pile of random clothes I tried on Jolly before. `I got them,´ I say with a relieved, tired smile. I'm surprised that they even got here, since I am usually very organized, but I think that I got them there out of a blur of stress-some shows just give me more stress than the others.

`There you go! See, you really didn't need to be all stressed out. How many times do I tell you that you are always more worked up than you actually have to be? Or is this an excuse to just spend some more time with me?´ he responds teasefully, and I roll with my eyes while holding back a smile. I can tell he is excited and looks forward to the show from tonight-which I do not blame him for, they will be performing for one of their biggest crowds.

`No Noah, I'm doing what I am getting paid for. Now sit,´ I demand him and pat the makeup chair.

`Do I get a say in this, or should I just comply from the get go?´ he asks me with a raised eyebrow, his smirk growing a bit wider as he slowly sits down on the chair.

`I think you should shut your ignorant mouth and let me do my thing,´ I jokingly said, but also really, really wanted to start now because time is ticking by.

Of course his smirk only grows bigger because of that comment, I should have known. `Yes ma'am…´ he says in a sarcastic way, moving his head closer to me with his eyes closed so I can finally start my work.

While I do so, I furrow my eyebrows in concentration like I always do, taking some sips of water in between, since this arena is not really cool with the warmth of outside to say the least. `Almost done,´ I let Noah know.

He sits perfectly still while he watches me, the silence only interrupted by the sound of the music from the opening act, coming from the main stage. I can notice him taking in the details of my face, something I sometimes catch him doing, and it makes me swallow while I try to focus on the finishing touches. 

`How much longer until you're done?´ he asks after a minute, I guess to get out of the silence a bit.

`Done,´ I say right after that, stepping back to look at him for the last time and then nod, to give reassurance to myself.

`And just like that she's done,´ he says while getting up from the makeup chair, and he smiles at me after. `You're always doing a good job at this, I hope you know that.´

I smile at him, needing to look up since he is taller than me. `Thank you Noah.´ I turn around and get out a rack with his clothes. `Now all that's left to do is to get you into your clothes.´

I can notice that Noah can't hide his own stress anymore, because he sighs and looks at the time on his phone.. `Yeah, let's do that.´ He walks toward the clothing rack to put his first outfit on, and while doing so he looks at me. `Will you be there by the side stage to watch us?´

`Yes, tonight I will be,´ I smile. `Can't miss one of you guys biggest shows.´

Noah looks at me with a thankful and kind of relieved face, nodding and when he starts putting his clothes on, I try not to get distracted by his torso, his biceps, his tattoos… like I said before, one night it's easier than the other. I can tell that he notices me struggling, because a smooth smirk is appearing from time to time on his face. Asshole.

He cracks his fingers and neck when he is fully dressed, something I always try not to cringe about because of the sound. He quickly looks at me in an apologizing manner, and then again at the time on his phone after. `Well… I should go to the other guys. Show is almost about to start.´

`Yes, good luck Noah,´ I say with a smile while leaning into him for a hug, something that has become a ritual every night for us by now. `You got this. You always do.´

He hugs me back tightly, his other hand moving and holding the back of my neck as well. `Thank you, Hailey,´ he quietly whispers in my ear, letting go of me after a few seconds. `It'll be one hell of a show.´

The corners of my mouth rise again. `It will be.´

`And I hope to see you after it too? Because the show is not the only thing that'll be one hell of a hit tonight,´ he adds with a grin.

`The after party of course,´ I say, and to be honest I had been kinda forgetting about it, my focus was too much on making everyone's look as perfect as possible. `Yeah, I will be there.´

I can see that he wants to continue this conversation by the way his lips part again, him being distracted by the idea of the afterparty, so I quickly pat his head and say: `Now, get out of here. Go rock the show like you always do.´ I even start pushing him towards the exit, which makes him let out a laugh.

`Okay okay, damn. Don't worry-I'll make sure to give them a night they'll never forget.´

Little do I know, that it indeed will be a night the both of us will never forget, or be able to.

#noah sebastian #noah #noah bad omens #bad omens #noahsebastian #bad omens cult #bad omens fanfiction #fanfiction #romance #smut #noah sebastian bad omens #noah sebastian smut #18+ only #18+ content #18+ story #story #reading #tumblr fanfic #badomenscult

[gothkit]

Leon kennedy fluff

x reader, adressed as feminine with female pronouns, no specific leon, no smut, just fluff

[ REQUESTS WELCOME :), CHECK OUT MY "ABOUT ME" POST FOR MORE ]

𝐒𝐅𝐖/𝐅𝐋𝐔𝐅𝐅𝐘 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 <3

• when you two enjoy eachovers company late into the evening, his whole body would relax in your presence. this comes with his chest muscles relaxing, still remaining firm but warm and comforting. you two could lay there and he'll let you lay on it for hourssss. this man would occasionally brush and play with your hair, sometimes muttering things to you as you fall asleep. UGHHHHH

• considering his work, i don't think he'd be the worlds best cook. his food decently average sure, and it's consumable. you two would spend the short time away from work you both had cooking and baking in your kitchen ( even if it ended up messy or burnt )

• KISSES. i've always felt leon would take some time to warm up, and then you wouldn't be able to get him off of you. the body worship of this man, the way you'd constantly feel like the prettiest girl in the world around him. he would kiss the hell out of your face and cheeks if you even dared to say you felt ugly around him, all until you're giggling.

• he would always get you things you mentioned liking or wanting. it was how he was able to romantic with you, knowing he couldn't spend all day by your side. though somewhat foreign to the subject, he always being as loving and spoiling to you as he could. taking you out wherever you wanted, buying you bouquets of the flowers you called pretty once, getting you anything he saw that reminded him of you. this man just wants to spoil his princess

• would wipe your tears from your cheeks with his thumbs, whispering "its going to be okay" and "i've got you baby" as he does.

• would protest about you taking his clothes, but he would gladly give them to you anyways. he loves seeing you in them, no matter if it's boxers or a t shirt. anything his girl wears he will completely adore

hey! i really hope you enjoyed these, i know they're short but i am just testing out the waters a little as to what people want as this is my first post! i really love writing long dramatic pieces and i've always been pretty good at it, as well as romance, so i've put the two together and decided to give this a shot. check out my 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐞 page to find more about my requests as well as any other info and boundaries! love you all and i hope you help grow my community <33

(if you decide to follow and stick around for my new stuff, here's a cookie for being an og supporter! 🍪)

#fanfic #leon kennedy #re4 leon #re2 leon #resident evil #resident evil fanfiction #x reader #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil x reader #resident evil imagines #fluff #fem reader #gothkit #fan fiction #headcannons #imagine #first post #resident evil fandom #tlou

[keyotosprompts]

Guys I miss my man (DEFINITELY NOT MY MAN) so much (I just saw him today and we interacted a lot) (we are NOT dating) 😔 currently I am on delivered while he is ACTIVE.

#tana talks ⋆˙⊹ #I need him actually #like idk maybe bc it’s past 11 and I act up #but I need him. viciously. carnivorously. #PLEASE ANSWER ME BABE #he brushed some hair out of my face and I think I am in love #sigh the standards are low if you couldn’t tell

[roomy-ghosted]

if you think rand is a classic prettyboy and skinny like his reference no he's fucking not.

#im shooting you with my MIND lasers right now if you think he's classic prettyboy #this is not directed at ANYONE- this is just me being gay and loving stinky boys. #im just having thoughts about men rn is all #like. no. He has chonk. Like a lot. he barely goes out. his face is full of ACNE. he has DAD BOD from all the beer he drinks. #he is scruffy as fuck; his scalpe and hair is GREASY and he is full of dandruff. #his teeth are probably off-white because of all the drugs and also because he forgets to brush them #he is DRENCHED in bodyspray constantly. #he's also COVERED in body hair all over. #like- #Maybe in a good ending au he starts washing his hair sometimes again #he has closure from what happened to Rachel. not perfect closure but. there's some. it helps a litte #his hair is really frizzy though and puffs up like a scared cat after that shower #maybe it takes ages but he starts brushing his teeth again #jrwi #bitb #timothy rand #im gay as fuck for this man; im a homosexual. #but GOD am I tired of people thinking he's a prettyboy #REJECT. canon. Look at Rand. Listen to his actions. This man is stinky and out of order and I love him for this #he probably has large piles of takeout boxes towered in his room <33 #am I saying Rand is a bear? no. a little. he's not an otter. do bears need to have beards to be a bear? #idk but he's covered in hair and chubby and is a bear gay to me

[rafayelism]

dating the love and deepspace boys | domestic moments

featuring: rafayel, xavier, and zayne x gn!reader

(´• ω •`) ♡ modern au! can you guys tell raf is my favorite..?

rafayel

a year younger than you. lies to everyone (including you) that he’s actually two years your senior. you only found out he was younger than you when you met his parents, who have his birth certificate framed. 

hates cats. despises them. they fill him with rage (fear). says he’s allergic (he’s lying).

“oh shit raf, this sucks! i guess you can’t move in with me.. i have cats”

“...you have cats?”

“yeah. 3.”

“i’m not allergic. i can move in tonight.”

chronically online. minoring in marine biology and majoring in annoying you. texts you over 200 times a day and if you don’t respond, he’s faking a horrible chronic illness. again. it’s amnesia on wednesdays, appendicitis on thursdays, chronic migraines on fridays… etc..

he has 2 followers on his private twitter. you and thomas. 

over 700k followers on instagram for some reason? he sells paintings on depop (he says it's depop but you’re convinced he sells them for heinous prices on the black market) 

cooks on occasion? has an apron that says kiss me im irish (he's not irish?) made you a tuna cupcake once?? 

pescatarian. not in the vegan/vegetarian way where he refuses to eat red meat but because he’s absolutely feral over fish. (is this cannibalism? he says its not)

lives in a 2 bedroom apartment with you but doesn’t use his bedroom. says your bed is comfier. turned his bedroom into a painting studio (IT’S for the black market you say!!) and sleeps with you. 

“raf,” you sigh. “don’t you have.. homework or something?” 

he sits between your legs, back against your chest as he scrolls through his phone. 

“yeah,” he says. you flick the back of his head because you know he’s smirking. “it’s called assignment: you. due in two minutes.” 

with his free hand, he reaches back mindlessly to grab yours. you sigh, fingers intertwining with his, a reflex as he leans his head back. his eyes meet yours and you can’t help but laugh. 

“well?” you ask, brushing his hair out of his eyes as he squeezes your hand. “what are the assignment details?” 

he chews on the bottom of his lip as he thinks, humming while his eyes wander across your face. he swings your interlocked hands in circles. it’s raining outside, the heater is on, and rafayel is warm like hot chocolate. 

“what?” he says, his cheeks a tinge pink. “you’re looking at me like that again.” a pause. he turns, his head now buried in your chest.

“just studying my homework.” you say, hands instinctively wrapping around his back. the laundry machine is running in the background, rain is falling against the window, and you faintly hear your rice cooker dinging in the kitchen. home, you think, is with rafayel.

“i can hear your heartbeat.” he says, voice muffled. “it’s super fast. you like me or something?” 

“i really like you.” you say, without skipping a beat. rafayel groans into your chest, sighing in discontent. 

“no fair. i’m supposed to be the flirter.” 

you press a kiss onto the top of his head and you feel his body melt into yours. the two of you fall into a warm silence, his breath steady as he traces paintings into your neck. 

“raf?” you mumble, eyes drooping. he hums in response. “did you pass your assignment?” 

he smiles. “with flying colors.” 

xavier

chronic napper. (yapper?) 

has 100 late assignments. failing all of his classes yet got into the top university in your country because he got a perfect score on his entrance exams. you thought he was a nepo baby (turns out he’s just.. smart?)

his procrastination rubs off on you… he is the WORST distraction and he knows it. so smug about it and uses it to his own advantage. will perch on top of you when you’re studying and kiss down your neck until you go to sleep with him. 

lives in the apartment on top of yours but is at your house most days, if not all. you ask him to move in.

“am i not already.. living with you?” 

“don’t you still have your apartment, though?”

“yeah..?”

 is that good for the economy?? is it financially smart? not at all, but he’s too lazy to move out and put his apartment up for lease. 

xavier sleeps with his legs entangled with yours and his arms wrapped tightly around your chest. the air conditioning hums in the background as you scroll mindlessly on your phone, dimming the brightness as you hear xavier stir. 

“sorry xav, did i wake you up?” you ask. he doesn’t respond, blinking the sleep out of his eyes as he glares at your phone. 

“xavier?” you question, swallowing a laugh at his ruffled hair and disheveled clothes. 

“phone down.” he says, voice raspy with sleep and an octave lower than usual. you raise an eyebrow at him. 

“can i get a pretty please in this economy?” 

xavier’s eyes narrow as he snatches your phone away, snoozing the device and placing it on the nightstand next to you. his lips ghost your neck, pressing kisses against your skin as he mumbles incoherently in the dark of your bedroom. 

“xavier-” you breathe, giggling at the sensation. “that tickles!” 

he nips at your neck. 

“bedtime. now.” 

zayne

3 years older than you 

he literally has his whole life together at 27 which scares you so much

“my credit card is your credit card” typa boyfriend

cooks. cleans. has a 9-5. you’re interning at the hospital that he works at (he’s head doctor!!)

you’re just a sweet little intern and zayne is the big bad monster!! everyone at work thinks he hates you because he’s extra strict on you. doesn’t give you any special treatment, ‘ignores’ you most days (but also slips meals into your locker and hands you heat packs on cold days in the hospital)

no one knows he’s dating you until one day someone sees you leaving in zaynes car. 

“oh, you carpool with doctor zayne?”

“huh? no, we live together.”

“you WHAT???”

he’s a virgo……. erm……

the two of you get ready together in the morning. his guard is down when he’s sleepy and he’ll cling to you as he brushes his teeth and does his hair.

you wake up to the cold night breeze, blinking the sleep out of your eyes and shivering as you scan your surroundings. you yelp as you meet the attentive gaze of your boyfriend. 

“huh? whuh? huh?” you splutter, squirming as zayne holds you tighter. he’s carrying you bridal style in his arms, his jacket around your shoulders as the two of you walk to his car. you see the bright lights of akso hospital fading away behind the two of you. 

“it’s two am,” he says calmly, placing you down gently as he opens your car door for you. “you waited for my shift to end. again.” 

you smile bashfully, rubbing the back of your head. “well, i didn’t wanna just leave you!” 

zayne clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, eyebrows furrowed but gaze warm. he guides you into your seat, clicking your seatbelt in place. 

“you can nap on the way home,” he says, closing the door and sliding into his side of the car. 

the heater’s on already- courtesy of his super expensive electric car. he fastens his own seatbelt and hands you a hot tea and bread from the hospital vending machine. 

“drink up. doctor’s orders.” 

you grin before he leans over to press a kiss on your lips. 

“thank you for waiting for me.”

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #rafayel #xavier #zayne #love and deepspace headcanons #love and deepspace rafayel #rafayel x reader #zayne x reader #xavier x reader #love and deepspace fluff

[tojipie]

welcome home <3

he’s unboxed ! who cheered. by far one of my most requested fics of all time. started this series 6 months ago and it remains one of my favs :,) this is by no means the end though ! i haven’t been writing any of the additions to this series in “order” and i am still 100% open to writing about his life inside/after prison lol. thank u to all the lovely ppl that have been showing love to these since april mwah mwah mwah mwah

as always, prison bf toji series linked here <3

content: (incarceration, fem reader, fluff, hurt/comfort, p in v smut, pining, road head, swallowing, creampie, dirty talk, multiple rounds)

“just step through here and—yep,” the guard waves his security want across your outstretched arms, clearing you to take your belongings from the conveyor belt.

you’d done this dance a hundred times over the past seven years, driving up to the district penitentiary twice a week to see your boyfriend—now fiancé.

toji told you he didn’t have it in him to wait, popping the question during a conjugal visit a month ago. 

the man had known he’d wanted to marry you even before he got locked up. the feeling was mutual, but unspoken, always hanging in the air between the two of you.

you on the other hand had known you wanted to marry toji the moment he whispered his first “i love you,” said to you through the crackly speaker of a burner phone on a night when neither of you knew if he’d be coming home or not.

you make a beeline for the release wing, breaking into a subtle jog without drawing too much attention to yourself. the bouquet of green flowers you’d bought at the grocery store jostles in your purse, leaving a breadcrumb trail of stray petals.

there, around a bend and down the corridor stands the man of your dreams, flanked by officers and personnel at the front desk. 

metal cuffs clack together as the man reaches to accept a clipboard from the release agent, skillfully uncapping the pen with his teeth to fill out the means for his freedom.

he looks up a split second before you speak, dropping the clipboard with an audible clatter. toji tears down the corridor with a look that speaks of relief beyond words.

“toji!” you yell, sprinting to the inmate with outstretched arms. you nearly trip over your own feet with how quick you barrel towards him.

warm bodies clash together at last, squeezing, cradling, and caressing every inch of each other at last. his law enforcement entourage watches from afar, some smiling, others annoyed.

you’re lifted clean off the ground as strong, tattooed arms slip over your head and around your body. thick fingers work their way into your hair, cradling your head to his shoulder. 

actions speak louder than words, you know that much from how quickly he buckles, dropping to his knees with your body still wrapped around his. 

toji smells different every time you come to visit. there were days when the tang of blood stuck to his skin no matter how hard he scrubbed, a telling sign of his short temper. 

other days he’d smell like the earth, soil from the rec field permeating his already brown garments after his morning run.

once in a while, you’d catch hints of industrial paint and car exhaust, a smell built up from hours of making license plates for pocket change from the state. “pennies,” he’d tell you, “that’s all we fucking get in here.”

today, toji smells like himself. like the man you fell in love with 7 years ago in the passenger seat of a BMW, gazing into green eyes while gentle hands brushed the hair from your face. 

you almost think he’s laughing until warm tears trickle through the porous fabric of your shirt. 

strong shoulders quiver as quiet sobs rack his body, you rub his back in small circles, unable to pull away with how tight he’s holding you against his chest.

“i love you,” the inmate whimpers, wiping hot tears with his sleeve. he pulls back to press your lips together, mumbling nonsense in between kisses.

“pretty girl—m’ sorry— missed you,” his hands shake as they curl into the fabric at your waist.

you’d seen him cry exactly twice in his life. the first being the night he’d opened up to you in full for the first time, quietly relaying stories of neglect and abuse from his childhood while you kissed tears from his cheeks.

the second was well, the day he went away.

to see him break down like this so openly was devastating. he hated being emotional, told you it was humiliating. you’re sure he felt more than vulnerable, the leader of the city’s biggest drug ring, crumpled on the floor of a prison hallway 

“it’s okay baby,” you tell him, still rubbing circles into his skin.

to touch him like this, at last, was unlike anything the two of you had been allowed to experience for the past 7 years. this wasn’t your two legally allowed hugs at the beginning and end of your visits, or a quick fuck in a storage closet.

this was love. to hold and be held in front of law enforcement personnel without threat of being reprimanded. this was the first time you had been allowed to feel him under the tips of your fingers with an audience, publicly declaring your claim on each other without fear. 

you never blamed toji for what had happened, as angry as you were that first year. he blamed himself enough for the both of you really. 

you’d come to learn over the years that it had already been too late for him to get out of his line of work way before you’d found each other, a cycle he couldn’t break.

prison was always a possibility, inevitable even. that’s just how it was.

you slowly gather your purse off the ground, cellophane-wrapped flowers coming into view. 

“for me?” he laughs, slightly embarrassed. dark green carnations, just like his eyes. 

“who else?” you tease, watching the distress melt from his face.

you share a look briefly, yours saying you’re safe with me. his saying i know.

the soft clicks of black work boots pull you from your thoughts, a female officer in tow.

“you guys ready to get started?” she asks softly, shooting you a sympathetic look.

toji stands with a chuckle, not letting you respond. silver cuffs dig into the meat of your thighs as you’re carried back to the group.

 ˚ ✧ ───────────

half an hour of paperwork for his freedom. that’s what you give the prison in exchange for his belongings and dignity. 

the waiting room is quiet, sterile air filtering through dated vents. calloused fingers rub over your ankle, legs propped up in his lap.

“feels like a hospital in here,” he mumbles, trying to cut through the silence.

the cuffs are gone, thank god. though you’re more than unhappy with the marks they left on his wrists. toji doesn’t seem to mind, used to almost a decade of this treatment.

the release desk worker slides you two a yellow bag under the glass divider once you finish your task, pointing you in the direction of the bathrooms in case toji wanted to change. 

the inmate—no, ex-inmate you remind yourself— hands you the bag with a disinterested look. 

he doesn’t want to remember, you realize. too scared to wear the suit he had on the day the world took you from him. you quickly trash the old clothes and hold out your shoulder bag to him, fresh clothes neatly folded inside. 

“always prepared huh?” toji smiles, grateful at the gesture. “haven’t changed a bit.”

you wait a couple of minutes outside the single-stall bathroom, physically picking your jaw up off the floor when he emerges.

to say that his old shirt fit would be... egregiously wrong. blasphemous even.

toji’s shirt doesn’t just “not fit”, it’s bursting at the seams as it struggles to accommodate his hulking form, stretching over plains of corded muscle like a rubber band pulled too tight. 

seeing him so often had likely gotten your brain used to the change, preventing you from realizing how fucking big your fiancé had gotten. truly.

the black garment is so tight against his body that it’s practically a second skin. you make note of the way it molds into the dips and curves of his abs, mentally reminding yourself to get him to wear it for you later. 

you suppose the change makes sense. if toji wasn’t with you on a day visit he was always in his cell, sticking to a strict workout regimen to take his mind off things. still, you rack your brain trying to pinpoint how and when such a massive transformation slipped your mind.

a tattooed hand snaps you out of your trance, cradling your cheek.

“you focused?” your fiancé teases, rubbing circles into your jaw with his thumb.

“i think that thing’s gonna explode if you move,” you swat his hand away. 

“would you rather i take it off to be safe?” he asks, jutting a thumb behind him at the waiting room desk.

the workers make no attempt to hide their oggling, faces pressed against the glass barrier separating your party from theirs.

“no— god keep it on,” you mutter, shooting them a nasty look.

“you and your girlfriend ready to go fushiguro?” an officer says, holding the door open for the both of you. toji squats down momentarily to get a grip on your thighs, folding you over his shoulder to carry you fireman style.

“wife,” he corrects, shouldering past the guard and trudging down the corridor with calculated steps.

the coos that ring out from the help desk are humiliating.

waxed tile fades into worn concrete as the two of you pass the threshold into the prison parking lot, your soon-to-be-husband muttering a curt “go fuck yourselves” to the officers who’d wished him good luck on his way out the door.

you’re proud of him for holding his tongue, in a way. knowing toji and his temper there were a hundred more creative and undoubtedly gruesome things he could have said to the personnel who’d kept him locked up for the better half of a decade. 

the world flips right side up again as you’re gently placed on your feet in front of the car. 

toji raises his head to the sky, basking in the warmth of the afternoon sun.

“s’ nice,” he mumbles, reaching to intertwine your hands. “felt the sun during rev time but.. not like this.”

you hum, rubbing your thumb over tattooed knuckles. 

“get ready to experience a lot more sun then,” you giggle. “wanna have a look at the car?” the question is more of a rhetorical one at this point considering he’s already running his hand over the hood with a whistle.

“haven’t seen this baby in a while,” he smiles, internally gushing at your choice to welcome him to the world in the car he used to drive you home the night you met. your fiancé doesn’t have to say thank you, you know how grateful he is from his smile alone.

he falters for a bit, looking like a newborn fawn with how careful his steps are as he circles the vehicle. you figure wearing proper shoes instead of rubber slides must feel at least a little abnormal after 7 long years. 

“alright,” toji states, rolling his shoulders in his too-tight top. “fuck are we waiting for, i wanna go home.”

 ˚ ✧ ───────────

you pay no mind to toji the first time he turns to look at you, opening his mouth to say something before slumping back into his seat with a frustrated sigh.

the fourth time it happens, you speak up.

“what are you doing?” you laugh, eyeing him from the driver's seat

“getting rubbed to death by my fucking zipper,” he mutters, repositioning his lower half to take the pressure off his cock. his frustration isn’t aimed at you in the slightest, all blame placed on his bottoms.

oh.. oh.

the whirlwind of emotions toji had gone through in the past 3 hours alone had taken a toll on his mind and body. but tasting the first morsels of freedom with you, alone in a car that smelled like you? you’d be worried if he wasn’t hard.

you had no problem helping his little problem go away, the question was how soon.

the idea that piques on you is absolutely shameful, you’re not even sure where it came from but you don’t have it in you to care. 

you know this road, you’ve used it a thousand times to make the trip up to the penitentiary. judging by how long you’d been driving you’d say there was about 10 minutes left before ruler-straight tar merged into the twists and turns of the suburbs.

“when did your license expire?” you ask, cautiously peering in the rearview mirror. good, no cars.

“3 years ago,” he laughs, “why?”

fuck it, you think.

“you still remember how to steer?” 

“course i d— oh.”

it finally dawns on him. you smile, shooting him a look that says “want to?”

you’re sure you have your answer judging by how quick he shucks his jeans and boxers down, freeing his cock from its confines.

“oh fuck,” he groans, struggling to keep his eyes open as your mouth presses against his base. 

your fiancé steers while your head bobs just beneath the dash, one hand on the wheel and the other placed firmly at the crown of your head, guiding you up and down the shaft.

your throat flexes around the intrusion, fighting the hulking feeling of his length mercilessly fucking into your mouth.

“fuck, perfect girl— my girl,” he shudders, hips moving to buck into your slick throat.

“gonna cum, gonna— shit,”

fingers kissed in dark ink massage your throat softly, urging you to swallow the hot load coating every inch of your mouth. you flutter around his length, pulling back to clean him off with your tongue.

“fucks gotten into you, pretty girl?” he whispers, so out of breath you barely hear him. 

 ˚ ✧ ───────────

you barely make it up the steps of the house before you’re shoved against the door, tattooed hands groping up and down your body with fervor.

“keys,” he says against your lips, “keys—fuck, now,” his voice is hoarser this time, desperation clear.

you whip around to jam the item into the lock, not unaware of the rock-hard dick grinding into your jean-clad ass from behind.

you’re being carried to the couch before you even step off the doormat, a stray throw blanket cushioning your fall as you’re pressed into squeaky leather. 

“won’t be gentle,” toji groans, ripping your jeans and panties down in one fluid motion.” can’t right now.”

“don’t be.” you say, rucking his shirt off his body surprisingly quick. “wouldn’t want you to.”

you needed him, needed toji to have his way with you. to christen your home round after round until you couldn’t feel where his body and yours ended.

when it came down to it, you suppose 

he smiles at the crude admission, rubbing the head of his cock up and down your drenched folds.

“filthy,” he mutters, said almost lovingly. toji grips his base and sinks to the hilt with a sharp groan, shuddering at the heat of your walls.

the stretch is delicious, filling you from every angle and pressing right against that special spot. you’re surprised at how easily he slams in, though you’re embarrassed to admit it was entirely because of how soaked you were. 

toji immediately pulls back with a flick of his hips, pistoning into you like his life depends on it. 

he hasn’t changed, you think. still so incredibly in tune with your body, skills that would put a pornstar to shame.

this was better than some quick closeted fuck under the cover of night after slipping a guard a rubber band of cash. this was primal, filthy. two bodies writhing against each other, the only goal being complete and utter pleasure. 

toji makes no effort to shush you like he would if you were sneaking around, basking in your sighs and whines like water from a stream.

“missed this,” he says, licking a long, wet stripe from your sternum to your pulse. “missed you, missed having you every day.”

“you’ll have me forever,” you moan, sucking a purple bruise into the tattooed skin of his throat.

thick fingers thread into your hair to hold you to his neck, silently commanding you to bite down.

and so you do. you bite down hard on the junction of his neck and shoulder, licking over pink teeth marks as his thrusts reach their maximum speed.

the pleasure you feel is blinding. stars explode behind your vision while the curve of his cock hits that heavenly spot in you just right. over, and over, and over.

your climax sneaks up on you before you can think, ripping a wail from the depths of your chest. toji’s thrusts falter to a halt as you lock down on him, pleasantly caught off guard by the vice grip you have around him.

“oh my g— holy shit,” he groans, mouth hanging open. dark brows furrow it to a look of pure pleasure, emerald eyes squeezing tight.

“keep going,” you mumble, scratching rivets down the skin of his back. “just keep fucking me please don’t stop please pl—”

“yeah? keep going?” he teases, groping at the swell of your breast. “greedy huh?”

you did want more, that was the thing. you just came the hardest you ever had in years but you’d be damned if he didn’t keep giving it to you.

brutal thrusts shake the frame of the couch. your bodies meld like they were made for each other, sharing pleasure in the comfort that came with the knowledge that the both of you intended to fuck until you physically couldn’t anymore.

“gonna come,” your fiancé pants, mouthing at the curve of one of your breasts. blunt teeth brush over the bud of your nipple, sending shockwaves down your spine

“inside, fuck—please,” you’re practically shaking.

“inside?” he repeats, the word rolling off his tongue like gold. “you want my seed? huh?” 

you nod, clutching to his naked back as he ruts into you, deeper than ever. strong hands grip the back of your thighs practically folding you in half, opening you up in ways you thought to be impossible.

hot release fills you up for the second time that day, shrouding your lower half in a blanket of warmth.

you sigh, low and satiated at the feeling inside of you, pulling toji to your chest when he collapses on top of you.

“we should probably..” toji trails off, completely out of breath. “should probably head upstairs.” he heaves, chest swelling with deep gulps of air.

“or we could go another round?” you mumble, throwing the question out there. 

“shit, yeah.. probably should right?” he chuckles

taglist ! 🏷️

@honeybee54321 @m150-50up @kuryoomi @t4naiis @serendippindots @sillyalo @levixbby @powerrwa @tojishugetiddies @wheredidmycrowngo @unknownspecies @ushygushybaby @ebiharachan @hoshigray @crazychaoticizzy @denypipa @watyousayin @tempest1art @sakuraryomen01 @kariito-art @vkeyy @mxtokko @inumakiiz @rosieee491 @loveme-b4by @suguxo @namjoonsbuspass @tojis-luver @complexivelovely @dancingwithdeities @sunflwrsugar @catvader101 @ktsgrl @princessos-blog @4ut0p5y @swiftsongs-mp3 @mycocoapuffs @adrenepinephrine @na0koz @suguscape @jaswonder3 @bokutosprettylittlebimbo @getousrep @jeannieboys @darkstarlight82

#prison bf!toji #prison bf toji #toji x reader #jujutsu kaisen #fushiguro toji #toji fluff #toji drabbles #toji hcs #toji fic #toji headcannons #toji imagine #toji drabble #toji x fem reader #zenin toji x reader #fushiguro toji x reader #jjk toji #toji headcanons #jujutsu kaisen toji #toji zenin #toji fushiguro #zenin toji #jujutsu toji #toji #toji x you #toji x reader smut #toji smut #toji fushiguro smut #fushiguro toji smut #toji x fem reader smut #jjk smut

[gay-dorito-dust]

I wanna kiss HSR men on the forehead and tell them I’m proud of them. May I request some HCs of their reaction?

Aventurine practically melts the moment your hands held his face with a warm tenderness as your thumbs softly caressed his cheeks, causing him to close his eyes and eagerly lean into your touch.

He could feel every ounce of love you had towards him in such a simple touch that he wondered how that could even be possible.

How easy you made it seem to be able to convey all your thoughts and feelings in something small like a touch of a hand, a brush of shoulders, or even a nudging of a foot; something that shouldn’t convey as much heavy emotions but did whenever you were the one performing those small gestures.

Not to mention that most of those small but impactful gestures were directed towards him made Aventurine wonder whatever could he -out of everyone else- have possibly done to even remotely deserving of any of it.

‘I’m proud of you Kakavasha.’ You said as you lifted a hand to push away his bangs and press a loving kiss to his forehead, making him whimper and press further against your lips, silently begging you for more. ‘I’m so proud of you.’ You add as you pressed another kiss to his forehead.

Such simple words and a peck to his forehead shouldn’t have so much effect over Aventurine but it did as his eyes shot open the moment he felt you pull away, looking at you with his pretty eyes with something you’ve never seen before as he muttered under his breath.

‘What was that?’ You then asked as Aventurine sighs, leaning back against the bed. ‘I said I wanted more…please can I have more.’

‘You can have as many as your heart desires.’ You tell him, pressing a third and a fourth kiss to his forehead as he allows himself to properly relax under your seemingly magical touch, letting kiss away his thoughts until only you remained.

Argenti would smile sweetly as he watched you push his bangs back to reveal his forehead, feeling your warm breath fan across his skin as your lips closed the distance between you as you pressed a tender kiss to his forehead.

‘I’m so proud of you Aregenti.’ You whispered but the cherry haired knight hear you clear as day.

‘Whatever for my beloved rose.’ He’d replied as he kept you close, wishing for nothing more than to commit this tender moment to his memory ever more.

You shrug. ‘Am I not allowed to say that I’m proud of you in general rather than say it after you’ve done something spectacular? Don’t that seem a little redundant?’ You asked as Argenti chuckled, bringing his face close and nudging his nose gently against your own.

‘It does indeed.’ He agrees before posing a question of his own. ‘But wouldn’t the words loose their meaning after a while if we were to say how proud we are of each other after everything?’

‘No.’ You answered without hesitation as you looked into his pretty eyes that you loved to see first thing in the mornings you’ve shared together thus far. ‘Not if they come from your lips they don’t. I don’t think I could ever grow tired if you were to tell me how proud of me you were.’ You admit and Argenti made a face.

‘Do I not do that enough already?’ He asks genuinely curious as you smile, kissing his cheek.

‘You do but at least let me return the favour now and then. I want to praise my beautiful knight more often than not.’ You murmured against his skin.

Argenti hums as he kisses your forehead. ‘You already do so just by smiling lovingly at me. I don’t need words of praise to fall from your lips when your actions speak far louder but if that’s what you wish, then it shall be granted my beloved rose.’

Sunday

His wings would flutter when you kiss his forehead after a long day of preventing The Family from collapsing in on itself.

‘I’m so proud of you.’ You uttered into his ear, making him gasp as his wings would instinctively twitch at the sound of your voice due to their hyper sensitivity.

Then he would regain composure and smile graciously at you. ‘Thank you my beloved. It is truly a relief knowing that I’m doing right by you to earn your love and your praise, I shall not waste them.’

Sunday lives and breaths on your praises as though they were the only things giving him life. So whenever you do give him praise for anything, Sunday feels more and more validated into continuing whatever he was doing in hopes of earning more in the future.

You had a powerful, powerful man who had an innate need to prove himself to you in order to gain your trust, love and respect and won’t stop until he had it in droves.

All this was within him and locked behind a calm, cool and levelheaded facade.

He may not look like he was heavily affected by your actions and sweet words on the outside but internally his need to keep you happy and proud of him outweighed everything else as the happier you were, the less likely you were to attempt to leave him later on.

Boothill

He impatiently waits for the days where you bless his face with kisses and whatnot.

It’s his ultimate weakness and you knew that face very well whenever you watched as his cheeks went all flushed, making this shark teethed man looked about as harmless as a puppy dog, when in actuality he was anything but harmless.

‘I’m so proud of you.’

You had this man weak in the knees from that alone, but the fact that you went out of your way to press a kiss to his forehead oh so sweetly had him practically kneeling before you in worship.

‘Whatever for darling?’ He’d ask.

‘Just for being genuine yourself.’ You would response, kissing his forehead a second time and pulling back to watch as he smiled dopily.

‘If me just being myself is enough to earn me some forehead kisses and sweet praises from someone as sweet as you, then count me in sweetheart.’ He would then say as he practically melted he felt your hands as they held his face still as you kissed his forehead for a third time.

Boothill thrived off of your affection.

It was his personal drug that he could never get enough of.

#hsr x you #hsr imagine #hsr imagines #hsr x reader #honkai star rail imagine #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #honaki star rail #Honkai star rail imagines #hsr aventurine x reader #aventurine x reader #aventurine x you #aventurine imagine #aventurine imagines #hsr argenti x reader #argenti x reader #argenti x you #Argenti imagines #Argenti imagine #hsr sunday x reader #hsr boothill x reader #sunday x reader #sunday imagines #sunday imagine #boothill x reader #boothill imagine #boothill imagines

[yndrgrl]

pov: you're katsuki bakugo's crush, & you're dense

pining! bakugo. short lil drabble. just good ol' fluff. no au. gn! reader. ooc! bakugo.

a/n: should i make a longer version of this?

everyone always caught katsuki looking at you, hanging around your general vicinity, or walking the same routes you do. your guys' classmates think it's cute the way he has a noticeable crush on you. they've teased him so much to the point that he doesn't even deny anything anymore.

"bakubro, you're staring at (y/n) again," kirishima would say as he shook the blonde.

"yeah, so? mind your damn business!"

uraraka would giggle, "you two would be the cutest couple!"

"i'm workin' on it! get off my back, woman!"

hell, even aizawa was in on it. he would pair the two of you together in all sorts of projects. he sat the two next to each other so you guys would be desk partners.

he was so transparent with his feelings that everyone knew how he felt about you, so what was stopping him? simple. it was you.

you were stopping him.

he doesn't know how you feel about him. doesn't he make it so painstakingly obvious that, when you simply look at him, his face flushes & his hands begin to spark. don't you notice how he hates people -absolutely despises everyone- yet he's always inching towards you when you're sitting next to him?

you must know how he feels about you, how he's madly obsessed with you.

but you don't. you're stupid, i guess.

when he "accidentally" buys an extra pack of your favorite snack, you figure he's just full. when he compliments your outfit, you just assume that he's into that type of fashion.

at some point, someone can only try so hard until they get desperate.

one time you had cookie crumbs on your cheek, so katsuki cupped your pretty little face in his hand & used him thumb to brush them away.

another time you nearly tripped over your shoelaces, & -without hesitation- katsuki bent down on one knee to tie your shoes.

katsuki doesn't know how much more obvious he can get. he kisses your hands, has his hand around your waist whenever he can, he goes on late night snack runs with you, for crying out loud! he has everyone tell you that he likes you, & your response is always the same: "i don't think so, i think he's just being nice."

what really makes him wanna tear out his hair is when you complain about how single you are. you're always ranting to him about how you're just a hopeless romantic. the entire time you're practically crying to him about how unlovable you are, he's thinking, "an idiot. i am in love with a goddamn idiot."

#anime and manga #bakugou scenarios #bakugou x reader #bnha bakugo katsuki #bnha x reader #bakugou drabble #bnha bakugou #katsuki bakugo x reader #x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo mha #bakugou headcanons #reader insert #bnha katsuki bakugou #bakugou katsuki #anime #my hero academy fanfiction #my hero academia #boku no hero academia

[burts-baked-bees]

Okay?

OPLA Sanji x Fem!Reader

{masterlist for OPLA Sanji ongoing story}

Tags: Slight angst to fluff, slight pining, Sanji and reader are close friends and have truama bonded, Sanji has no clue he's in love with reader the poor sap

CW: Launguage, mentions of abuse, slight WCI spoliers, mentions of drinking

“I swear I’m one shift away from throwing myself in the godforsaken ocean.” Sanji huffed angrily as he threw himself down in a nearby booth. The Baratie had cleared out for the night leaving the cooks to clean the line and the waiters to clean the dining room, but halfway through the dreaded cleanup Sanji had both metaphorically and physically thrown in the towel. The dish cloth he had been holding went flying across the room as he put his feet up on the booth he was in and groaned indignantly.

“That old shitbag won’t so much as let me breathe on the line! I’m a cook! Not a fucking waiter!” He yelled, turning his head back towards the kitchen, as if Zeff could hear his complaints.

“You think maybe it has something to do with the fact that you call him an ‘old shitbag’?” A voice came from the other side of his booth. A small smile curled his lips as he sat up some and peeked over the rounded edge of the red leather seat.

“Oh I’m sorry, did I interrupt your nap time madame?” Sanji laughed as he took in the sight of Y/n laying on her back with her eyes closed in the opposite booth. “So sorry for the inconvenience, but aren’t you meant to be cleaning tables?” He teased as Y/n cracked an eye open and glared at him.

“Aren’t you?” She asked with a sly grin, earning an eye roll and angry huff from the blonde.

“Seems the only thing I’m meant to do is slowly die from boredom in this trash heap of a restaurant.” Sanji sighed as he fell back into his seat, pulling out his lighter and messing with the lid. Y/n laughed softly before sitting up and resting her arms on the dividing seat. She placed her head atop her arms and looked at him with a mock pout.

“Awww is the best chef in the East Blue all bummed that his dad doesn't like his cooking? Again?”

Sanji snapped his lighter closed and raised a finger at Y/n, pointing aggressively at her with a snarl.

“I am the greatest chef in the East Blue. Even if that geezer can’t see it.” He stated, earning a chuckle from Y/n as she sat up and raised her hands in surrender.

“Easy now, no need to shout at a lady.” She cooed as Sanji chuckled and gave her an angry smile, hanging his head.

“How dare you throw my own principles back in my face.” He chuckled as he began fidgeting with the silver ring on his finger. Y/n sighed and rested her chin on her folded arms again, smiling softly at the mop of blonde hair in front of her. She reached over the divider and brushed some of his hair from his face, earning a soft hum from Sanji as he closed his eyes.

“I think we both know he’s only doing and saying these things because he wants the best for you. Though I’ll be the first to admit, his way of going about it is absolute shit.” She laughed as she watched his lips curl into a smile. He looked up at her, her fingers brushing against his cheek as he moved.

“Yeah, I know…” He sighed as he leaned his head back against the wall. She pulled her hand back and looked at him with sympathetic eyes. “But you're a stowaway as much as me.” Sanji joked, “And yet I’m the one being treated like a sniveling child every fucking time I step foot in that kitchen.” He huffed as he looked over at her through his bangs. She chuckled as she hung her arms over the back of his booth and cocked her head to the side.

“My dumbass thought I could be a pirate and got stuck here paying off a debt cuz’ my ship damaged the hull of this ‘trash heap of a restaurant’.” She fired back, using his own words. He opened his mouth to speak but soon closed it again as he shook his head.

“Yeah that was pretty dumb.” Sanji joked as he pulled his jacket off and tossed it to the seat beside him. Y/n gawked at him before laughing and reaching forward to hit him softly on the shoulder. He leaned away from her and shouted

“Oi! Don’t damage the goods!”

She looked at him with mocking wide eyes and barked a laugh,

“Both Patty and I would have to disagree with you on that one, lover boy.” She snarked as Sanji rolled his eyes. A calm silence filled the space as Y/n sat up on her knees and looked at Sanji. She could see something was going on inside his head, and she knew him well enough to infer that he wasn’t going to say a damn thing. She studied the way his brow furrowed and noted how his eyes seemed more gray then blue in moments like these.

There was a profound sadness in him that she had only caught glimpses of in her three years aboard this ship. A profound sadness that he had more or less shared with her one drunken night in the bar when they should have been sleeping. A profound sadness that she wished every single day she could lift from him. The two sat in silence as the ship rocked softly under them; Y/n felt compelled to speak, to do anything that might help ease his overactive mind.

“Still, knowing what I know, having Zeff treating you like this can’t be good for the ole’ psyche…”

Sanji tensed up slightly at her words and Y/n mentally kicked herself for making that insinuation. She wanted to help him, but after the words left her mouth she felt a heavy guilt fill her bones. She watched as he shut his eyes and took a deep breath before smiling ever so slightly.

“Trust me, love. I may complain like this from time to time-”

“Almost ninety-five percent of the time."

“Ooookay. Almost ninety-five percent of the time, but nothing is worse than… what I came from.” He gave her a somber smile and pulled out his lighter again, flipping the lid open and closed in an almost rhythmic pattern. She returned his sad smile and pushed her baby hairs from her forehead.

“Sorry. I shouldn’t have mentioned that.” She spoke softly as she looked out at the empty dining room; the tables were cast in an eerie candle light and the china adorning the tables glimmered like stars. Sanji looked at her, as her attention was placed elsewhere, and smiled fondly. He felt a warmth rise in his chest as he took in the curve of her profile. The slope of her nose, the length of her eyelashes, the round of her cheeks. The candle light of the empty room cast dancing shadows on her face that made her look otherworldly; he felt his smile, and eyes soften as he looked at her.

“Y/n I wouldn’t have told you about my shitty past if I didn’t trust you to check in on me like this every now and again.” Sanji spoke softly as Y/n turned her gaze back to him. She was almost stunned to see the expression on his face. The look in his eyes was, most of the time, reserved for the elegant ladies that entered the restaurant day in and day out. And yet here he was looking at her like that. She brushed the fond gaze off and swayed her head back and forth while giving him an apologetic look.

“I know, but it’s still not my place to dredge up old memories of abuse when I don’t even know the full story.” She responded, playing with the ends of her uniform shirt.

Sanji smiled at her and leaned forward in his seat, one hand braced himself on the seat top while the other reached forward and pulled her towards him. Y/n closed her eyes as she felt his lips press against her forehead.

“I appreciate you checking on me. It shows that you care.” He said softly, his words muffled seeing that his lips were still connected with her forehead. She smiled softly as he placed a loud exaggerated kiss to the skin there before pulling away and holding her face in his hand. “Okay?” He asked with a huge smile. She laughed at his theatrics and moved to stand up, leaving Sanji sitting alone in his booth as he looked up at her standing form.

“Whatever you say-” She began as she reached out a hand to help him up. He took it with a laugh and allowed Y/n to pull him to his feet. “-My favorite Baratie waiter.” She finished as she dropped his hand and started walking away from him, stifling her laughter. Sanji stood there with his jaw dropped as she walked away from him, his shock soon turning into a smile as he watched her shoulders shake from holding in her laughter. He let a chuckle slip out as he pushed up his sleeves and made a beeline for her.

“How DARE!” He yelled as he grabbed her from behind and lifted her off the ground slightly laughing as she yelped and then dissolved into laughter when she broke free. She began running to a nearby table to put distance between herself and him as she pointed at him,

“Not fair!” She yelled, watching as Sanji pointed back at her.

“Don’t you dare get me started on ‘fair’!” He responded as he laughed.

____

Zeff stood in the doorway to the kitchen watching as Sanji ran around tables with that wannabe pirate waitress. He observed in silence as the pair laughed and threw dish towels at each other instead of cleaning tables.

The small boy he once knew, terrified of making connections with those around him due to some dark past he kept to himself, was smling and laughing as he chased around what could only be discribed as a friend.

A small smile curled his weathered lips as he shook his head and walked away, the sounds of youth fading into nothing.

“Not bad, little eggplant… Not bad…”

#sanji x reader #sanji x you #sanji imagine #black leg sanji #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece imagine #live action one piece #taz skylar #opla #no spoliers for the show but slight anime/manga spoliers for new fans

[steddieas-shegoes]

When Eddie comes out to him, Steve makes a big mistake. His first reaction was to thank him for trusting him, which is what Robin told him to do in this situation.

But his second reaction was to say “I also like guys.”

Eddie blinked at him, clearly confused and defensive, like maybe Steve was making fun or not taking him seriously.

“Uh. You do?”

“Yeah man! I mean, no one else knows, but yeah.”

Eddie smiled and thanked him for trusting him with it, said they should hang out more, and recommended a queer bar in Indy if he needed a safe place to explore.

And Steve smiled and nodded like he couldn’t agree more.

As soon as Eddie was gone, he rushed to the phone in his kitchen and called Robin.

She called him an idiot, a dingus, a bisexual disaster —whatever that was—, and told him he absolutely wasn’t allowed to go to a queer bar without her.

She did at least agree to keep up the lie until he could find a way out of it without Eddie thinking he lied to hurt him or something.

But he started hanging out a lot more with Eddie and finding that they had more in common than he originally thought.

Eddie took Robin and Steve to the queer club and Steve…felt at home, felt welcomed, felt like he belonged. Robin kept giving him these looks all night, and Eddie kept dragging him to meet people who he cared about, and one of the guys on the dance floor kept pulling him out there to dance with him.

He felt free and alive and-

Queer.

It hit him as the guy, Paul maybe, was pulling him closer by his waist as his hips rocked to the beat of a song he didn’t recognize but felt like something he wanted on a mixtape. It hit him that he liked this because he liked dancing with Paul like this. He liked this because he saw himself visiting more, even without Eddie and Robin. He liked this because he could picture making out with Eddie in the bathroom.

He froze.

“You okay, sweet thing?” Paul asked him.

“I think I’m in love with my friend.”

Paul’s eyes widened momentarily before patting Steve’s hip. “Is he gay, honey?”

“Huh?” Steve was already trying to find Eddie in the crowd. “Oh, yeah. He’s here tonight.”

“Shouldn’t you be dancin’ with him then?”

Steve finally looked back at Paul, who had his hands on his own hips now, teasing smile on his face.

“Yeah. I should,” Steve thanked him, apologized for any misleading, which was immediately brushed off. Paul was here to dance, he didn’t much care for who he was dancing with.

“Send that beauty over here. She looks like she needs some lessons,” Paul pointed to Robin, who was still looking a little nervous despite the friendly bartender handing her sodas every time he passed by her.

“She’s gay, man.”

“So am I! Doesn’t mean we can’t dance!”

Steve laughed. “You’re right.”

He walked over to Robin quickly, avoided getting pulled back into the crowd.

“I’m in love with Eddie.”

Robin rolled her eyes. “I know, dingus. You literally risked your entire reputation to come to a queer bar to try to impress him.”

Steve balked. “That’s not what this was!”

“Uh huh. Well he’s sulking in the bathroom if you wanna go tell him.”

“Sulking? Why?”

“He saw you dancing with that guy. Think he assumed you were interested in him.”

“Not a chance. I prefer long hair and ripped jeans,” Steve winked. He turned to walk towards the hall with the bathrooms when Robin stopped him.

“Don’t do this if you’re not 100% sure,” she said seriously. “Eddie really likes you and it would destroy him if you were lying to make him feel better.”

“I wouldn’t do that,” Steve started, but stopped when Robin gave him a look.

“You’ve literally been pretending to be queer for the last two months because he came out to you and you accidentally came out to him. You’re lucky it wasn’t a complete lie.”

“Yeah but I wouldn’t fuck with his feelings like that.” Steve knew what it was like to be led on. He wouldn’t do that to Eddie. “I’ll be careful with him.”

“And be careful with you.”

He saluted her as he walked away.

When he found Eddie sitting on the counter at the sink in the bathroom, he was swinging his legs back and forth and humming something distinctly less pop than what was playing on the dance floor. No one else was in here, but that didn’t mean no one would walk in.

He walked over to Eddie and placed a hand on his knee.

Eddie immediately stopped kicking his feet and looked up.

“What’s with the face?” Steve asked, reaching up to touch the line between his brows that always appeared when he was pouting.

Eddie shrugged. “Just not feeling it tonight I guess.”

“The music isn’t really your thing. Kinda surprised you like this place,” Steve said as his hand drifted down to his wrist. “Seems closer to a small club than a bar.”

“You seemed to be enjoying yourself.”

Eddie’s tone was sharp, laced with jealousy. Even if Steve hadn’t had his realization five minutes earlier, he would’ve seen what that was from a mile away.

“I was until I realized I’d rather be out there with you.”

Eddie snorted. “I don’t really dance.”

“But you’d dance with me if I asked, right?” Steve’s fingers circled his wrist and he tugged Eddie off the counter. “Even if I asked you to do it right here with no music?”

“Steve, what are you doing?”

“Dancing. Or trying to.” Steve rested his hands on Eddie’s hips and started swaying them in sync with his. “It is hard without music.”

“Why don’t you go back out there?” Eddie’s hands went around Steve’s neck.

“Because you’re not out there. I don’t wanna be where you aren’t.”

“Steve-“

“You know I didn’t actually know I liked guys until tonight?” Steve huffed out a laugh. “Well, I really like this one guy. Not sure about others yet.”

Eddie was silent, but didn’t push Steve away.

“He was hiding in this bathroom though. I didn’t really think he’d join me out there, so I brought the dancing to him,” Steve winked.

“You like me? You? Like me?”

Steve nodded.

“And you just realized this?”

“Kinda.”

“In a queer bar?”

“Mhm.”

“That’s pretty gay, dude.”

Steve snorted and smacked Eddie’s chest. “That’s the point.”

Eddie moved in impossibly closer, no room for Jesus between their chests anymore. “So you lied when you came out to me?”

“I panicked! But it doesn’t actually count as a lie if I’ve seen the light.”

“Was it a rainbow light? Or the reflection of the disco ball in the glitter shorts Perry was wearing?” Eddie joked.

“Perry!” Steve smacked his own forehead. “He’s nice. Made me come tell you how I feel.”

“Oh. He did?” Eddie seemed shy for maybe the first time ever.

“Yeah. Said I should come dance with you if I’m in love with you.”

Steve hadn’t felt like this in a while, and hadn’t left his heart on his sleeve like this in even longer. As Eddie’s face went from shy to shocked to flustered, Steve thought about how long he’d been dancing around these feelings.

But no more dancing around them. Now it was time to dance with them.

“Can’t believe you just said you’re in love with me in the bathroom of a queer bar. Don’t even think they clean this place,” Eddie laughed, letting his forehead fall against Steve’s.

“I’ll tell you again outside.” Steve kissed his cheek. “And in the van.” His nose. “Your house, my house.” The corner of his mouth. “Everywhere.”

Eddie licked his lip, skipping over a soft kiss for a hungry one. It was hot, desperate, impatient. Everything Steve hadn’t known he needed.

Then again, he hadn’t even actually known he liked guys until tonight. Maybe he was just late to learn things about himself.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #headcanon #robin buckley #drabble #Steve Harrington is a bisexual disaster and in this essay I will #coming out that’s funny as hell #Steve coming out before he even realizes he’s queer is the epitome of cinematic masterpiece #alas I’m high and could only write this

[bookshelf-dust]

baby love, my baby love

gif by @corrodedcherry

eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: 1,880

warnings: swearing, reader had a not so good day, some hair washing, reader is nude in a non-sexual way, casual intimacy, lots of lovey-dovey things

a/n: hello! i am still very tentatively getting back into writing, but i wanted to write something sweet and comforting and soft and all those things. and eddie is the best provider of all that. this is so cute i almost made myself nauseous. lemme know what you think!! happy reading!!! <333 lots of love

————

“Where’s my girl at?”

Eddie’s voice rings throughout your small apartment, echoing slightly due to it not being fully furnished. His tone is almost giddy, words taking on a little twang after having spent the day working with Wayne. 

You bury your face deeper into your pillow, fighting a smile at the way he speaks to you. From your place on the bed, you hear his keys smack the wall as he hangs them up, hear his boots thudding across the kitchen tiles as he makes his way to you. 

When Eddie appears in the doorway to your shared bedroom, his arms are raised, fingers working to quickly tie his hair up in a knot. His biceps flex with the movement, drawing your eye to his pale skin. A brilliant smile spreads across his face upon seeing you. 

“Hey, bug,” he says.

You flush. You never thought you’d allow someone to call you love bug, let alone any variation of it. You certainly didn’t think you’d like it. It’s who’s saying it that’s converted you.

You’re laying on your stomach, hands crushed under your cheek. You try to smile back at him, but it comes out much less enthusiastic than normal. It’s a very tired gesture. 

Eddie notices, kicking off his shoes and crouching before you. “What’s the matter sweet girl? You’re wearing your outside clothes still, and you look pretty pitiful.”

At least he’s honest.

You blink and let your eyes flutter shut. “Long day. Headache. Upset.”

He brings his hand to your face, brushing his fingers over your temples. “Oh, I’m sorry, bug. I know you just wanna feel all better. Is that it?”

You nod, eyes still closed. He starts to laugh playfully just because of how pitiful you really do look, at how small and scrunched up you’ve made yourself. When he kisses your cheek, you feel his smile against your skin. It makes you beam, despite how you feel. The tingle Eddie’s lips leave behind makes it seem like the first time no matter how long it's been. You’re all soft for him, and there’s no denying it. But hell, he’s the same way. 

“How about…” he trails off, rubbing the tips of his fingers up and down your spine, tickling your lower back where your sweater has ridden up. “How about I take care of you? Run you a bath, for starters? I know you like that.”

Your eyes open, happy to think about how nice it would feel to sink your tired body into a hot basin full of bubbles. “Okay, Teddy.”

“Yeah? C’mere then,” Eddie says gently, holding his hands out to encourage you to sit up. You slowly push yourself away from the mattress, and he easily pulls you to stand. “I’ll get the water warmed up for you.” 

You give him a poor little salute, making him laugh, and then stick your fingers through his belt loop so you don’t have to do as much on the short walk to the bathroom. When you get there, Eddie bends to cut the water on and push the drain plug down. You wrap your arms around his waist and fold yourself against his warm back. You close your eyes once again, hearing him squirt a hefty amount of bubble bath into the tub. You’ll be lucky if he doesn’t flood the bathroom.

The plastic top clicks shut and Eddie rises, grabbing hold of your hands and spinning around in your grip. 

“Don’t like seein’ you all drained, baby,” he says. Eddie’s hands cradle your face, long and pale fingers beginning to rub at your temples. It feels so nice to have that pressure be pushed away, to feel his body so close to yours. At this rate, you’ll forget you even had a headache. 

“Wanna tell me about it?” Eddie asks. “Or do you just want to have a chill night?”

You open your eyes and push up on your toes to kiss his nose. “The latter,” you say. 

He chuckles, knowing you never used that term until you started reading Jane Austen. 

“M’kay, bug. That works for me.” His eyes twinkle mischievously. “You want a kiss? I think you deserve a good one.”

That gets you to practically melt. I fucking love this woman, Eddie thinks. He feels breathless each time you look at him that way. You look at him like he hung the stars, like he is your knight in shining armor. He kisses you in that way that thanks you for making him feel so loved. So cherished.

You thread your hands in Eddie’s hair, fingers pulling at the chunk at the nape of his neck where it’s most sensitive. His mouth is warm against yours. He smiles at your playfulness, breaking away to kiss both cheeks. 

He bends and drags a finger through the water. “It’ll be plenty warm enough in a second, bug.”

You give him a tired thank you squeeze as he presses a kiss to your jaw. 

“Need help undressing?” he inquires, a wolfish grin spreading across his face. 

You gently backhand his stomach, watching as he feigns severe injury. “Perv,” you joke. 

Eddie sits down on the toilet seat lid so that he can be prepared to turn the water off when he deems the tub full enough for you. Really he’d just like to see you surrounded by a huge pile of bubbles for his own amusement, but also because he knows it’ll be the thing to coax that pure, joyous laugh out of you. The sound he’d bottle and keep on his nightstand if he could.

You remove the little bit of makeup you’d been wearing with a cotton pad, sighing in relief to have it all off. You take out your earrings and slip off your rings, setting them in an ashtray on the counter you’ve been repurposing ever since Eddie decided to cut back on his smoking.

You take off each of your socks, one hand gripping the countertop for balance. As you slip your belt off, Eddie finishes preparing your bath and turns to face you. He holds his arms out, ready to collect your dirty clothes and accessories so that he can put them in their rightful places. 

He takes your belt from you only to be cheeky, snapping the thick leather as loud as he can manage. He makes himself laugh. 

You turn to the side when you unbutton your jeans, flushing and shy at his attention even after all this time. Even knowing how beautiful he finds your body. How much he loves how soft you are. After all, your body allows you to live. It allows you to spend time with him, and that is all he’ll ever ask for. It doesn’t matter to him what state your body is in because it is yours. And you are his. 

Eddie smiles watching you shimmy out of your snug jeans. You hand him your pants and t-shirt, now only in your bra and underwear. You don’t give yourself the time to be self-conscious, longing for the hot bath water. You turn and quickly unclasp your bra. Eddie playfully flicks your bum. It always deserves appreciation in his eyes. 

When you hand him the last of your items, he presses the sweetest kiss to your tummy, thumbs rubbing at the indentations left on your chest from your bras underwire, as if he can make them go away just by sheer will. 

“I love you, bug,” Eddie says, looking up at you with those watery doe eyes. His kisses your stomach again.

“I love you same, Teddy. Now let me take my bath. It’s rather chilly in this house, don’t you think? I refuse to freeze.”

Eddie laughs to himself as he walks off, taking your clothes to the hamper and storing your bra and belt elsewhere. He never could’ve imagined a world where preparing a bath for his partner would make him as happy as it does. 

————

Eddie is kneeling on the bathroom floor. Your back is pressed against the side of the tub, and he’s washing your hair. Well, really he’s already given it the scrub and cleanse that it needed, now he’s just trying to make weird shapes out of it. 

After you’d sat in the warm water until your toes pruned without actually bathing, he jokingly offered to do your hair while you washed your body. 

You hadn’t even thought about it. You were enjoying the way the bubbles came up to your chin, the way you were completely encapsulated in the safety of them. The way Eddie sat there on the rug, telling you about his day. About the different things he’d fixed on which cars—nothing you understood in any fashion, but something you always wanted to hear about.

“You could make good money doing this, you know. You’re very talented,” you quip, scrubbing your calf with a washcloth. 

Eddie snorts, kissing your wet shoulder blade. “What? Give head massages?”

You ring out your rag, having completed your washing ritual and made sure everything got the attention it deserves. 

“Mhm. That felt so good.” 

You pull the drain plug up, letting the water out. Eddie stands and acts as though his back is going to give out on him. You quickly turn the shower on, just so you can make sure you got all the conditioner out of your hair and feel completely clean. Eddie has never done this rinsing routine after a bath, but loves to see you do your little happy dance when you’re all clean and wrapped up in a towel.

He holds out a hand as you step over the rim of the tub, bowing for added effect. “How was your bath, m’lady?”

You lead the way out of the bathroom, on a search for pajamas. “I’d say it was the best bath I’ve ever had the pleasure of taking, good sir.”

You hug your fuzzy towel to your chest, pushing up on your tiptoes to kiss Eddie’s full lips. He blushes at the eye contact you’re giving him. He knows how it makes you nervous, but getting to have all of your attention like that makes him tingly.

“Thank you for helping me, Teddy.”

“Anything for you, sweetheart.” 

You turn to the side, gripping a round, wooden handle and pulling open your top dresser drawer. Eddie kisses your cheek. Sometimes you think Eddie’s kisses are lifesaving. They’ve surely contributed to your stability. They’re healing. And so is the way he cares for the people he loves. The way he so effortlessly does things just because he only wants to see you happy.

Eddie ends up picking out your pajamas while you pick out his. You’re in your own bottoms, but one of his Iron Maiden t-shirts. You told him you should match, so he pointed you in the direction of another, and you made sure to choose pants for him that had red in them, just like yours. 

Before you can sit down on your shared bed, Eddie takes your hand and leans down to whisper in your ear. His chin brushes your jaw, lips parting in a bright grin before the words ever leave his mouth. 

“Now, what do you think about going to get milkshakes?”

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

note: none of the gifs or images i use are mine! i get most of my images from pinterest or here, and gifs from about the same. please let me know if i ever don’t credit someone properly!

#savannah’s fics #eddie munson #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson comfort #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson x reader fluff

[keisobe]

all i can just think of are fluffy hobie headcanons w reader who has glasses 🗣️🗣️🗣️ like they would be making out and hobie would be complaining about reader's glasses just keeps knocking on his face (definitely did not think of this because i wear glasses)

— okay as a fellow glasses wearer, i loved this idea sooo much (// ^ ^ //) ♥︎

hobie thinks your glasses are adorable. he has these moments when he’s admiring you and noticing the tiniest details. his favorite one is when your glasses slowly slip to the tip of your nose and you huff in annoyance— pushing them back up. hobie thought it was funny, but he came to find himself adjusting them for you.

with delicate fingers, hobie pushes up your glasses by the hinges until they perfectly frame your face— softly brushing a knuckle over your cheek as a way to ease your irritation.

“wha’ me to get you some goggles instead?” hobie quipped under his breath, brushing your hair behind your ears.

you simply rolled your eyes with a cheesed smile, to which hobie would playfully pinch your cheek as you continue to work.

blessed with perfect vision, hobie had no concept on what it’s like to be forced to wear glasses.

“how many fingers am i holdin’ up?” he would extend three fingers in front of your face, dragging his arm in different directions and distances.

when you tell him that’s not how it works, hobie would simply shrug his shoulders with a lazy smirk.

“wrong. the answer ‘s two.” he would obnoxiously bend his ring finger and wave it on your heated face— earning him a smack to the chest.

and yes, making out with your glasses really gets on hobie’s nerves.

a soft sigh would spill from your lips as hobie grazes his teeth along your neck— his mouth coming back to slot themselves back into its place. he leans in for another kiss and immediately comes contact with the foggy lens of your glasses.

“for fuck’s sake.” he hisses in exasperation, snatching them off your face but still being mindful not to touch your lens, he tossed them on the nearest soft surface.

before you could whine about him handling your glasses like a madman, hobie cups your cheeks and briskly pressed his lips against yours— knocking all the wind out of your lungs. you nearly tipped over by his desperate advancement until hobie wraps a firm grasp around your waist, pulling you closer with a satisfied hum.

“y’know nothin’ can keep me away from you.” he would breathe out in between heated pecks.

but sometimes, hobie doesn’t know the extent to his own strength.

“‘s just a dent babe…” hobie would look apologetic when you patch the temple with lousy tape— your pout making him feel guilty.

he nervously grasped the lenses from your hands and placed them on your face. cringing at the way the lenses slowly tilted to the side as a deep frown settled onto your face.

“see your specs still look… fine.”

don’t worry, he got you a new pair afterwards.

KEISOBE © 2023. please do not copy, translate, or modify any of my work. all of my works are not permitted to be posted on any other sites.

#✩.*˚ — ina’s works🎂 #ੈ♡˳ — (spiderverse) 📁 #ੈ♡˳ — (atsv) 📁 #— ౨ৎ ࣪ . ⊹ : drabbles #— ౨ৎ ࣪ . ⊹ : hcs #hobie brown fluff #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x y/n #spiderpunk x reader #spiderpunk headcanons #hobie brown drabble #hobie brown headcanons #spiderpunk x y/n #atsv headcanons #atsv x reader #atsv drabbles #hobie brown x you #atsv fanfiction #ੈ♡˳ — (hobie brown) 🎞️ #hobie brown fanfiction

[comfortless]

Pygmalion!König and Galatea!Reader………. 😖 What do you think?

content/warnings: 18+. minors do not interact. pining, light angst. self harm, implied animal death (not done by König or reader), fluff, König is horrible and by that i mean yes— he fucks the statue, outercourse, unprotected piv, implied mutual loss of virginity.

notes: lovely Salome did something similar to this already! 💖 however. yes. i am thinking about it and well…. take this out of my hands.

König has never had anything that could properly be called his own.

He walks the city entirely alone, no wife at his side to paw at his chest and bless him with adoring glances. His only steadfast companions are the grit slipping into his sandals as he walks, head held high even as the shadow of a boy begging on his knees for any semblance of love eternally tethers itself to him.

A glance lingering too long at the appeal of a soft face, the brush of his calloused fingertips against a pornai’s bare stomach before deciding that no, he didn’t want something so simple.

He merely slips a few apologetic drachma into her waiting palm and sets her free of him.

A warm body would never be enough, it was the heart that he starved for. To bed some poor creature that would never properly love him would be worse than the greatest of tortures in his mind.

It wasn’t a simple affair to find a lady to marry, either. Foreign soldier that he was, he had no right to some politician’s pretty daughter, court her properly and sweep her away to a bed that’s only ever been a harbor for lonely, twisted bitterness and blood.

Most turned away the moment he passed by: frightened glances that rightfully accused him of immense violence, shushed whispers of “barbarian” passed from soft lips before the sand beneath their fretful feet shifted and their shapes had disappeared from view entirely.

The ceaseless loneliness carves a burning ache somewhere within the expanse of his chest, something he knew he would never truly be free of, not until it rotted it’s way out of him in full.

It only seemed to quiet in moments he shed blood for this foreign country; burying his sword in some poor man’s gut was the closest he could get to sheathing a part of himself inside another, to touching a heart, seeing lips part in a gasp as their world becomes entirely consumed by him.

Just as the many days prior to this one, he grips the hilt of his blade, letting the metal dig into his palm, his knuckles bone white, as he makes his way back to the empty shack deemed a home.

Streets quiet and crowds disperse with each of his silent footfalls— not one of these smaller men or fearful women dares to look him in the eye. The only thing that does, the only eyes that ever lock to his, are those peering out from the harbor.

The figurehead guarding her expertly crafted ship has always called to him.

Her beauty was remarkable, from the curl of her hair to the patient look in her eyes. Her hands clasped before her breasts in silent prayer as she looms over the darkened depths of the sea beyond the soil, calling him to board, to venture away from this place that his left him in such an acute state of misery.

He swears he hears it then, a mere whisper on the wind, urging him in featherlight comfort to lie down his sword and take up the chisel and hammer.

It’s only when he pauses to look the gentle face of the figurehead over once more that he finds himself resolute in what he must do.

— — —

When he took to crafting her it was born of this desperation; hazy moonbeams cutting through the shade of his shack for hours before he would reluctantly pull away from a beautifully carved hand or the soft but stiff curve of a neck to retire to the straw-stuffed mattress at the corner of the room.

She was beautiful, a representation of all of the sweet, effeminate softness he would marvel at from afar. The swell of plush breasts, curved hips and silken thighs, eternally parted by her stance, the sweet face that could make any man feel entirely weak…

His hands tremble when they rest upon her form, unsure of just how such splendor could have come from his own coarse palms.

Weeks of scarce sleep only seemed to further his devoted madness. Though the warring dulled the ache and sated his blade, the longing seemed to only grow far more prevalent.

He yearned when they were apart, dreamt of coming home to her less lifeless and only demure smiles and hurried kisses the moment he would return to her. He would always come back.

Upon her completion, he took to courting her proper. Though she could not in any way reciprocate or reject his advances, he believed wholeheartedly that the cushiony love that had blossomed within his aching, neglected heart must be mutual.

Gifts were strewn at her cold feet, some gilded and shimmery, some soft with an abundance of colorful petals: offerings for a silent goddess that kept a part of his soul hidden away deep inside the pristine marble that she was carved from.

When he wraps her neck in a necklace with a sparkling beryl amulet attached, his hand does drift to the swell of her breast beneath the woolen chiton.

It’s hard and cold, but his groping becomes as incessant as the kisses he presses to her jaw, to her cold lips, tongue leaving a warm path down to her neck before he finds himself committed to having her.

He’s careful when he disrobes her, slowly revealing the mounds and curves and softness of her imitation of human flesh.

Dropping to his knees, his tongue laps at the ivory depiction of smooth lower lips, spearing between each silken ridge until he imagines her eyes squeezing shut as she cries out for him, rolling her perfectly sculpted hips to coat his tongue in waves of vulgar honey.

He moans into her cunt, drools and sucks at the mimicry for as long as it takes to find her thighs drenched in his saliva and his cock aching horribly between his thighs.

He rises to slot himself between her legs, pushing forward with a keening whine that dissipates into a relieved gasp. The feel of her pressed against him; the smooth ridges of her makeshift flesh running over his stiff, leaking cock is akin to finding divinity.

His hands rove over her breasts, thumbs pressed against her eternally pebbled nipples as he kisses her, each sloppy and filled with years of need.

It is pure bliss, almost as though he is burying himself to his hilt inside of her pulsing cunt.

He would fuck her better than any man— not a single other could match the strength of his affections nor his hapless willingness to please.

If he could have carved a proper hole between her legs, not a drop of his seed would be wasted on thin sheets or spilled into his palm, she would be filled, womb brimming until some loving god or goddess blessed her with child.

His pace quickens to the point of frantic, feverish hands drifting to her hips as he mouths at her breasts instead, hissing out praises for how good she feels against him, how his heart bleeds to feel her nearer.

There is so much heat between her thighs now he could swear it burns like the cold mist of the Underworld itself; the fuzzy heat pools from his navel and further as his muscles begin to tense and leave his thoughts a haze and his lips parted in a silent, worshipping cry.

It’s only when he envisions her tugging her bottom lip between her teeth, back arching as she drags her nails over his shoulders and whines through her own damnation that his cock throbs in repetition as his eyes roll back. His heavy sack arrives at her mound as his seed spills from him, cascading down to paint the thighs of his silent lover, smeared pearly and glistening over her labia as he rubs his cockhead against her with an agonized groan.

His forehead finds her shoulder, warm breath replacing the coldness of her skin as he wraps his arms around her perpetually beckoning form, lovingly trailing kisses from her clavicle to her ear where he whispers a breathless, “I love you.”

It’s only after he’s finished wiping away the evidence of depravity from her that he feels the first wave of shame, sharp and feathering from his chest that leaves his jaw set and throat tight.

What lowly man envies the warmth others experience with far less gratitude? König has never seen himself as pathetic, no matter how commonly he’s been sent off and kicked like a stray.

She’s the only thing that’s brought him any sort solace in a world that’s left him starved, but also a cruel mirror casting a reflection of his own nature.

Pulling the thin blanket from his mattress, the statue is soon swallowed up in her entirety, all guilt and pity-drawing attestation neatly hidden away behind rippling sable fabric; her form silent and waiting as it would remain eternally.

None of this is enough.

———

König has never found himself fond of prayer, never felt the need to partake in the festivals and ceremonies. His luck in battle was only a mere measure of skill, of a body so brutal and immense that most trembled before him, not born of any benevolent gift. There was no need to kneel, to bestow offerings upon the altars. If the people turned away from him, then surely any god or goddess would be even more inclined to do so.

Only… his mindless wandering has led him here, to Aphrodite’s altar whilst the festival of Aphrodisia plays on everywhere around him. The people invoke and dance, abundant offerings brought forth as the scent of timber burning and bold floral incense floods his senses. Blood and flowers already riddle the stone, a stark vibrancy of color that lures him closer, commands him to kneel.

He doesn’t have a thing to offer to the goddess, not so much as a petal, but if the pull were not just the first signs of a withering mind…

The glimpse of hope he’s offered is not taken for granted.

Thick fingers curl over his sharpened blade, dragging his palm against the steel until it stings almost sweetly. If she could accept the blood of a goat then surely, his could be no more polluted. Beads of crimson revel and dance along his forearm before dropping down onto the stone.

And he does pray.

It is not a vulnerable prayer, one that bares him in full, but only a wish— a longing for warmth, to have her share his breath, to admonish his shame and live free with the one thing that has never given him anything but safe harbor.

He unveils her when he returns, knowing that this is the closest he will ever come to love.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes against her cheek, leaves a kiss there before dragging himself away to disrobe and pull himself back into bed.

When the weariness takes him, his sleep in dreamless and calm. If any blessing were bestowed upon him at all, the surely that would have been more than enough. A night without turning, without visions of a darkened grave devoid of anything to haunt him.

He only begins to stir when the mattress dips at his side, a soft palm pressed to his chest, stroking along the loose curls of auburn there.

“König..,” a voice calls out, more gentle than any he’s ever heard.

He wakes to find her, leaning over him with the sweetest glimmer in her eyes, wide and fascinated. Her touches only trail further up to his face as he tries to silence the rapid beating of his heart, the stinging born of adoration in his own pale blue eyes.

“I missed you,” she whispers, moving to curl at his side, her hands cradling either side of his jaw.

König is utterly stifled and so terribly smitten, the most he can manage is a quiet huff of breath as he rolls onto his side to take this sweet, unreal woman into his arms. Dreaming or waking, it mattered not, if he were given only the night or a lifetime with this beautiful little creature it’s still more than he has ever had.

His head dips to press a chaste kiss to her soft lips, only finding a warmth there that had never been the many times he had kissed her prior. His palm runs along her side, feeling ever perfect dip and curve, all heated and so very alive.

She only falls apart beneath his touch, already quivering and softly gasping even from such a gentle kiss. The thought that this little dove has been longing for him just as much makes his heart bleed. He whispers his apologies against her temple, for his frustrations, for his doubt in their love, for all of the temptations and hatred that plagued his mind before she came to be.

She only answers with eager touches, grasping at him as she murmurs her own perceived shortcomings. If only she knew that she could never do wrong, that she was what’s saved him and that nothing could shatter that.

When her tongue slips past his lips and his breath grows heavy, there’s little else he can concentrate on than the throbbing pillar between his legs, the scent of her around him, under him when he guides her onto her back.

Thanking the goddess could wait, he’s far too focused on the one that’s willingly climbed into his bed.

One hand splays at her side forcing him upright as the other trails over her breasts, a satisfied groan leaves him as he feels her softness, fighting back to urge to squeeze and pinch until she cries in pleasure, howling out like those at the altar he had encountered only earlier.

A nipple is snared between his thumb and index, twisted gently beneath each pad, her back arches…The wetness of the dew slicked flower between her legs brushes against him and he whines like a starved dog finally presented with the aroma of a meal.

His hand falls from her breast to her hip, encouraging her to buck the source of her own need against him— take anything she needed. If she were to pull a blade and carve a hole in his own chest he would only let her, the taste of this heated bliss and the look that she gives him, enchanted and curious, is more than he has ever deserved.

Only does he pause when he parts her thighs, and her stare becomes more curious, searching him for any reason as to why he would even stop.

“We have done this before. Are you afraid now?”

No, he wants to tell her, that before was not the full extent of it. Instead he only laughs, peeling away just enough to fit his head between her legs, mouth only a small measure from her weeping cunt.

“I want to taste you.”

With a whispered plea from her lips, he raises her hips, mouthing and suckling at her until she shivers and sings against the cushions. He groans against her when she does come, her hips stuttering in his grasp as she drives further against him.

He hisses in his mother tongue when he pushes the backs of her thighs up, grinds his leaking tip against her until he swears he really will fall into madness if he doesn’t fuck into her immediately.

The ache in his chest that his been so prevalent for so long is finally smothered out the very moment she tugs him down by his shoulders and pulls him into a frenzied kiss. She encourages him in each lapse, murmurs how long that she’s waited, how starved she’s been for him while hidden away.

He nearly sobs when his tip snags against her entrance, so divinely wet, pulsing and begging just as he is. When he penetrates her, the breath is punched from his lungs, his hands and mouth exploring every inch of her within reach as she wraps around his shaft as though her cunt was made for him.

His little dove only covers him in kisses in turn as he mumbles obscenities into her flesh, revelling in her tightness, in the way her body fits so perfectly against his, mutually carved by the gods to fulfill one another. His professions of love come in abundance as she fits her legs over his narrow hips, crying out from his sudden depth as his cock jumps against a spot that leaves her writhing.

Though it’s almost painful to keep himself restrained, he tries his best not to rut into her like a mindless animal, even when he feels her constrict around him as another orgasm leaves her cunt drooling and pulsing. He doesn’t give her time to recover, however… forced to lie in wait for so long, it’s nearly taken out on her as he spears into her as she moans and babbles her praises against his chest.

He’s lost to the empyrean as his muscles finally pull taut, crying as he buries his head into her shoulder and pumps his come into her, shaking as he wraps her up in his arms and clutches her close as he melts against her.

Spent and sated, König holds her tightly against him as they pant and share sweet words, secrets and giggles from her that make every moment of dolor before this night seem insignificant.

She slots her fingers between his own, compliments his damaged face and the worships his body with brushes of her lips and tongue just as he does her. He does not leave her empty, warms her heart with words he’s kept trapped in his throat for months, guides her gently as she perches over him to descend back onto his cock, his thumb stroking her stomach as he tells her over and again just how much he loves her, compared his feelings to that of Orpheus, how he would suffer anything all for her.

A pleading “Stay” is uttered as she falls limp against him, stroking along her back as they come down for the second time that night.

The last thing that leaves her lips before sleep takes her is the most saccharine she’s said that night, a simple, “I love you.”

It’s the only thing that he’s ever truly longed for.

———

They marry after the voyage back to his homeland, his head clouded during the entire trip of seeing her swell with his child in time, a home built with her in mind for the two of them, of lying flowers at her feet just as he had before.

His blade lies neglected in the little glade they had chosen, taking up only a hammer and his own hands as he works tirelessly to provide for his wife, the dove that looks at him as though he were not a dog but a king.

When their home is built after many weeks of tedious work during day and bedding her beneath the stars each night, König only then thinks to pray his thanks to the foreign goddess who gifted his salvation to him with little more than a scrape from his palm. All the while his true goddess leans over him to tickle his cheek with flowers he had plucked for her only moments prior, covering him in a fragrance so sweet it only seemed befitting of herself.

She giggles and sighs when he pulls her down into the grass to roll over her, blanket her in kisses and gentle bites to her throat.

The beryl amulet around her neck catches the glimmer of the sun above as she sifts her fingers through his hair and tells him that the gods already knew he was grateful, that his worship of her was already telling enough.

#könig #könig x reader #könig x you #konig x reader #konig #cod fanfiction

[teatreeoilll]

𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐲 (𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐗 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐗 𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐨 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮)

˚• . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° .

w/c - 1.4k content - MDNI! 18 + ! fem!reader, porn, Gojo eats you out while you sit on Geto's lap. That's it. That's the plot.

• . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . 

Geto loves it when you sit in his lap. He loves it so much that sometimes he can't help himself; he puts a large arm around you first, nuzzling his face into your hair to smell its sweet scent, almost intoxicated. You draw closer to him; it's hard not to when the pads of his fingers begin to draw soothing patterns on your shoulder.

It's just a regular Tuesday night, and some average heist movie is playing idly on the television, and neither you, Geto, or Gojo - who made himself at home in your and Suguru's shared apartment with his feet crossed over on the coffee table - are paying too much mind to it.

You watch Gojo reach a pale, veiny arm into the bag of sweets. He takes out a piece of candy and unwraps it slowly, and you notice how his tongue darts out just a bit before he puts the chocolate candy in his mouth.

"Want one?" Gojo asks as he's about to take another one, and something in his small smirk when he says that makes your muscles tense.

With his hand still around you, Geto notices that - it's not the first time he spots it - he already took note of the light red flush that covers your cheeks when his best friend comes over after a workout with his shirt too tight from being drenched in sweat, or when you look just a moment too long into Gojo's blue eyes when you greet him before your eyes dart to the floor, the corners of your lips twitching up. Not that you ever do or say anything; it's all so innocent and sweet that Geto can't help but savor it, knowing his girlfriend's dirty little secret crush.

"Oh - no, thanks," you smile back at Gojo and lean further into Suguru's side, fixing your eyes on the screen.

Geto's arm around you tightens, and he reaches his other arm under your thighs to lift you up a bit and pull you on his lap. The heat spreads quickly on your cheeks, "S-Suguru," you whisper, fumbling away from his grasp, "not now." Geto knows you're not too much into public displays of affection, but the thought itches his mind, and his trousers grow uncomfortably tight.

Geto pulls you on top of him anyway, and Gojo's ever-perceptive pale-blue eyes stray away from the screen to land on your flushed face.

"Don't be shy," Geto whispers as his hand brushes the hair away from the back of your neck. His heavy breathing warms your skin, "We're all friends here, aren't we?" He raises his arm to grab you by the side of the face, turning it for your eyes to land on Gojo as he presses chaste kisses over your neck.

"S-Suguru," you whimper, feeling his stiff cock rubbing on your lower back through his trousers, "not - " but you can hardly breathe when you notice the sly smirk plastered on Gojo's lips and the way his jaw clenches each time you try to wriggle away from Suguru's touch.

"Satoru's a good friend, don't you think?" Geto urges, his hand leaving your face to brush over your thigh, raising the hem of your skirt, "I don't think you ever told him what a good friend he is, did you?"

"I don't think she did, Suguru," Gojo suddenly says, his eyes narrowing when the blush on your cheeks deepens to a crimson shade, "but I guess it's my fault," he sighs dramatically as he runs a hand through his white hair, "I don't think I ever showed her what a good friend I am. How's she supposed to know?"

Suguru chuckles, shaking your body along with him, "I guess she isn't," He runs his hand up your thigh to slide his fingers over your drenched panties, and you shudder, "But she wants you to show her. Don't you, princess?"

All you manage is a stifled mm-hmm before Gojo pushes the coffee table away, and it screeches as it reaches the middle of the living room, making space for him to kneel and settle himself between your thighs.

You gulp when you feel Gojo's hand run up your thighs, grabbing the sides of your underwear to pull them off, and you shiver at the touch of his warm hands running down along your legs together with your panties. He throws them on the floor and looks at you from beneath his long white eyelashes. The air gets trapped in your lungs.

"Come on, princess," Suguru's voice purrs in your ear as he spreads his legs, your own legs on either of his, revealing your wet cunt to Gojo's eager eyes, "Tell Satoru what a good friend he is, or he won't know."

"Y-You're a very good - " and Gojo reaches a long finger to skim along your folds, "Friend - Fuck - " you gasp.

"That's not nice," Geto chastises in your ear, his palms holding your thighs spread, and you place your hands on top of them, digging your fingers into them to steady yourself.

"It's okay, Suguru," Gojo smirks as his face draws closer to your clit, licking a teasing stripe along it, and you feel him smiling against your cunt, "She'll be nice in a minute."

Gojo's tongue begins lapping at your folds, and your thighs jolt, wanting desperately to close on his head only for Geto to hold them tighter in place, "Satoru - Fuck - " you moan, feeling Geto's cock twitch against your lower back.

"Feels good?" Geto murmurs, and you feel Gojo's two long fingers hover at your entrance before pushing in teasingly slow, his tongue still flicking at your clit.

"So sweet," Gojo pulls away from your clit, his mouth drenched in your essence as he works you open with his fingers, licking his lips clean, "If you told me she tastes so sweet, we would've done this a lot sooner."

Geto's chaste kisses on your neck turn to soft nibbles on the soft skin there as he groans every time your body twitches, letting him have a bit of delicious friction on his clothed cock, "Shit," he groans into your neck. He pulls his hand off of one of your thighs, running his fingers along your wet cunt to collect your essence before lifting them up to his mouth, licking them clean, "You are, so sweet."

Gojo's fingers pick up a ruthless pace, the pads of his fingers abusing the gummy spot inside you, "So needy," he smirks when he feels you clench around his fingers, and your vision nearly blurs when his tongue laps at your folds again, your hand darting out to grab strands of white hair to make sure he doesn't pull away again.

"Ah - Fuck - " you moan out as you writhe and squirm at the dizzying feeling of Gojo's fingers nudging your sweet spot, the heat pooling in your stomach as a Geto still holds you in place, "Shit - 'Toru - I - "

The lewd squelching noises coming from your wet cunt fill the room, and your back arches, tension coiling in your stomach as you almost instinctively turn your head to Suguru, who shakes his head. "It's okay princess," Geto's fingers grip your chin to tilt it down at Satoru, "You can look at him."

And you watch Gojo's blue eyes, desperate moans mixed with cusses escaping your lips as he looks up at you. His tongue still works hungrily on your clit, and his fingers push deeper and deeper with each erratic thrust while his free hand rubs his erection through his trousers for some relief.

The coil in your stomach snaps, and your release drenches Satoru's lips and chin as his movements finally slow down. Your nails dig into his scalp as you ride out your high on the slowing pumps of his fingers. He slides his fingers out, "'Toru - " you whimper when his tongue glides one more time against your sensitive clit.

You feel Geto's unsteady breathing at your neck as he locks eyes with Gojo, giving him a nod. Gojo rises from his knees, his face an inch away from yours, "You have one more in you, princess?" He asks but doesn't wait for an answer before pressing his slick-drenched lips against yours, sliding his tongue into your mouth as he moans at the feeling of your release rolling off his tongue onto yours, the sweet aftertaste of the candy he ate still present on his tongue.

He pulls out of the kiss, and you turn to Suguru, who eagerly pushes his tongue in your mouth, "I bet you do," Gojo teases, and you feel him between your legs again, pressing soft, wet kisses to your inner thigh.

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