#however shorts!! i have so many pairs of shorts. i fucking love jean shorts

[queers-gambit]

Tears in the Rain

prompt: feelings are confessed and a decision is made; the only thing left to do is heal and be okay.

pairing: Eddie Munson x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Stranger Things

word count: 8.4k

note: Eddie's 19, reader's 18+, and Chrissy's 17-18 years old. and yes - The Book of Unholy Mischief was published in 2008, but i still use a quote from it, oh well - roll with it!

warnings: Hanahaki Disease AU, cursing, unrequited love, y'all know the drill - angst! hospitals, and minor description of surgical procedure. again - angst! please proceed with maturity and caution. is this a happy ending? depends on your mental state idk anymore. ✅ no spoilers

other Eddie Munson Hanahaki Disease fics: Cherry Blossom Colored Kisses Gone with the Sin

It started in the 8th grade, spitting out bits of petals and scraping them off your tongue when nobody was looking; subtly wiping your hands on your jeans and pretending you hadn't. Your child's mind was overwhelmed and confused by the sight but figured it had to be normal, never asking any questions, because who would ever believe your symptoms?

You kept this secret to yourself like you did many others, never sharing with anyone the pain that was slowly creeping through your veins. You didn't even tell him - the boy who made your heart race and palms get sweaty. The boy who made your mind go blank and simultaneously race with thought. He's been your friend since the 1st grade, best friend since 3rd, you thought you could share anything, but after the talent show in 7th grade and you saw the way he was held hostage in his seat while watching Chrissy Cunningham do her cheer routine, you knew things couldn't stay the same.

His eyes were wide, his mouth slightly agape, and it was the first of many star-struck looks Eddie would give the strawberry blonde. A look you'll come to understand would never be directed at you.

Everything around you was changing but you refused to be left behind, so, you changed with the times; you changed with your friend. Your hair was cropped short as his grew out in unruly curls; you wore black almost everyday (like he did), you might've even learned how to play guitar so you two could have another bonding experience, and you even joined his stupid fucking Hellfire Club because you thought you could impress him with your Dungeons and Dragons knowledge that you didn't spend all summer studying over.

When you got to high school, your symptoms changed - just like you did. It wasn't fair, but you never tried to fix what was wrong; Nancy Wheeler spending hours with you in the library as you feigned a personal project you needed to research, searching for any solution. Your friend didn't know you found answers the summer before high school, the summer puberty hit you like a bullet train; the summer everything changed.

You knew something was terribly and fatally wrong yet never bothered to fix it, because why bother putting forth effort into an inevitable end? Your options were limited and neither sounded better than the last.

Option One: you succumb to your symptoms and suffocate. Two: you got a surgery to remove the blooms growing in your lungs - but it would in turn take away all known thought and memory of your beloved. And Option Three: confess your feelings and pray to any and every known God, Goddess, Deity that he would return them.

However, you worried that if he did return your affections - whether he verbalized them or not - you wouldn't be in this predicament to begin with. So, you sucked it up and kept quiet because having him as just a friend was better than forgetting him, or losing his friendship. You were never good being alone but found being alone with him was better than being by yourself. You chose to remain strong and silent, despite the way you withered away inside; you chose to stay close, even though his proximity made your heart crack. You chose to borderline torture yourself because you knew walking away would take more bravery than sticking around.

But in the words of Ellie Newmark, "Unrequited love does not die; it's only beaten down to a secret place where it hides, curled and wounded. For some unfortunates, it turns bitter and mean, and those who come after pay the price for the hurt done by the one who came before."

You positively refused to turn "bitter and mean", so, you plastered a smile on your face and never gave anyone reason to think anything could be wrong. You never thought there'd be anyone after him, because you were enamored with everything he did and the very idea of being in love with anyone except him drove your heart into your throat. The idea was unimaginable.

The first semester of high school, your chest got heavier with meat but also pressure, causing a terrible tightness that left you feeling as if you were breathing through a sauna; your lungs constricted with tendrils of prickling pain, and soon, those bits of petals were fully intact, giving you first sight to what was being hacked out of your body - white chrysanthemums.

After a bit of research, you discovered these particular flowers were used in European funeral bouquets - but not many others. You discovered white chrysanthemums were a symbol of death, grief, and mourning in some Asian cultures, and it did little to quell the worry in your chest.

Yet, how oddly beautiful to suffer through this; where your own body betrayed you but produce something pure, innocent even, despite being slathered with a halo of tacky blood.

However, you feared life without him and even if it meant your heart would permanently weep, you would sign yourself up for a lifetime of pain if it meant he stayed close. If it meant he stayed in your life. If his hand would continue to hold yours. If his smile would grace your sight, if those pillowy lips would form precious nicknames that always made you feel on top of the world.

You'd mourn yourself, in order to preserve and celebrate all he was.

For years, you persevered through the unimaginable pain in body and mind, and for years, you and he grew closer than ever before. In the 10th grade, things changed again - but this was only because you caught yourself about to confess your feelings for Edward Munson. Panic-inducing fear halted the words before they could slip out, and instead, it caused a violent coughing attack.

One so intense that it made you turn away from Eddie and get back in your father's car, driving away from his trailer as your palm was slathered in a slick, sticky mixture of blood and limp white petals.

You felt immense guilt when you glanced in the rearview mirror, Eddie's shocked, confused, and concerned figure standing on his porch - watching you drive away, and wondering what had gone wrong. You two had been smoking, sure, but Eddie often thought that you could smoke him under any table, any day. Maybe he had indulged you too much, and maybe your lungs and throat were going raw from it all - spurring a bud of guilt to sprout in Eddie's gut.

He didn't let you smoke going forward.

You accepted the new limitation because you couldn't handle telling him the truth. You chose to suffer for him, you chose to remain close and depend on him more than you should've. It became increasingly painful to live through your days, and to your heart-stopping fear, the pain was tenfold when you were nearest Eddie.

Eddie, who was oblivious to your pain.

Eddie, who couldn't pick up a fucking hint.

Eddie, who you've been in love with since you were a kid.

Eddie, who you spent every birthday and holiday with.

Eddie, who only ever wanted the pretty, popular head cheerleader... And not you.

Still, his friendship was better than nothing at all and you dealt with the staggering pain that soon left your limbs weak. Surely, the pain of losing him wouldn't match the pain you had now, so, you stuck it out.

You and Eddie hung out every weekend. You went to his shows at The Hideout, you helped him do his homework and study. You defended him against bullies, you'd wipe his tears, hold his hand through tattoos, you brought him new customers to up-charge his drug sales. You loved him, and you did what you could to show that without needing to verbalize it.

You laughed with him, cried, watched movies; went to concerts, checked out books in the library on how to fix automobiles to help him tune up his van. You remembered his Uncle Wayne's birthday and got him a new mug each year, you taught Eddie how to bake, you both would raid the music store and spend his drug money - and he'd always buy you a new record, even if it "wasn't real music".

Because that's what best friends did - they loved each other unconditionally.

And for years, you'd watch him stare after the pretty captain of the cheer team; her oblivious to his staring and him oblivious to yours. It was like a never-ending circle, watching the three of you idiots tiptoe around feelings and truth. Yet Eddie was focused on what was in front of him in the form of Chrissy, never bothering to ever check to see what was behind him - in the form of you.

Because you were always there. A constant presence tethered to his soul, forever being a safety net during the times he pushes himself too far.

The stake in your heart drove deeper when he'd ask your opinion on his hair - wondering if Chrissy would notice the trimmed dead ends (like you did). He'd ask you what flower was your favorite, because he wanted to impress the pretty strawberry blonde with a pretty bouquet. He asked you for a mixtape of your favorite love songs - learning a few of them on his guitar in the hopes of serenading the girl who you'd never be.

Thing was, Eddie was the only constant in your life and you felt it was impossible to walk away from him; some kind of chain keeping you from ever wondering too far. He was there from Day One, never leaving your side, and always knowing when something was wrong - until now.

When your symptoms graduated to coughing out blood daily, he didn't notice. When your chest was ready to cave in, making your breaths ragged and wheezy, he didn't notice. When your eyes became dull and lifeless due to the consistent pain that didn't let you rest through the night, he didn't notice.

What he did notice, was how Chrissy Cunningham was paying him slightly more attention since she and Jason Carver broke up. He noticed when her hair was different, he'd rave about how good she looked in the color green, gush to you in excitement when Mr. Lang had assigned them as project partners, and how Chrissy told him how funny she thought he was.

And the first day they decided to hang out together outside of educational purposes was the day you coughed out a full bloom. Floating on the surface of the water plugged in your bathroom sink was a white chrysanthemum, speckled in bright red blood; a string of red-stained saliva dripping from your mouth as you stared in shock. The face scrub popped lightly on your cheeks and fingertips, but your skincare routine was forgotten as you registered the newest symptom change.

This was new, this was much more painful. The usually beautiful flowers slowly grew in your lungs, sprouting thorns the longer you fought against your feels - refusing to admit defeat, and confess your deepest, longest kept secret.

For the following days, you were excusing yourself every single class period to retch into a toilet bowl, the blooms now sopping wet from your blood due to the shredded rawness of your throat and lungs.

Eddie didn't notice because Chrissy's perfume was still in his nostrils. Her swaying ponytail still behind his eyes. Her beaming smile painted in his mind, and fingers tingling from the ghostly memory of her hand in his.

Thorns sliced your throat, stabbed your tongue, and shredded the inside of your cheeks when you tried to spit them out as quick as possible. It was like your blood was made of glue, keeping the blooms and thorns stuck to your mouth and lips - no matter how your river of tears tried to wash them away. Or how your sobbing breath tried to force them out into the toilet - they just wouldn't budge.

Petals and flowers and thorns stuck to you, like your love for Eddie.

And Eddie didn't notice because Chrissy was wearing that skirt today, and he was telling you all about how beautiful she was instead of focusing on spending quality time with you; instead of noticing how you visibly shrunk into yourself in an effort to quell the pain throbbing in your chest and head, in an effort to block out the pain of hearing the boy you love gush about the girl he loves.

Breathing became harder, as if something were blocking your lungs. Blocking the passageway air needed to travel; blocking you out of your life. It took a physical toll; color of your eyes dulling, hair drying of any moisture, bones protruding from the harsh symptoms that refused to ease in severity. You felt fear for the first time since the 8th grade and this had all first started; trying to weigh your options over what to do.

Three options...

Eddie didn't notice your turmoil to make a decision because Chrissy agreed to a date with him.

Before you know it - years have passed since your first indication of symptoms. You prayed for deliverance, but God couldn't hear you through your gargled cries; coughing petals and blooms out between blobs of thick clots. Your pillow cases were all soiled, yet you couldn't replace them - it was futile with the way blood shot from your mouth and nose. You ran through tissues more than tampons, and your bedroom became something akin to a hospice room.

Eddie didn't notice when you dulled of life.

Being as you were now seniors, you figured showing up at Eddie's trailer in the middle of the night wasn't totally weird. After all, you both had sought refuge with the other since before you really understood what friendship meant. With worry and fear dropping your heart to your feet from the weight of your panic, you hopped in your beat up Toyota and drove through town to reach Eddie's home; used tissues scattered across the passenger seat - all saturated with blooming drops of blood.

You had no idea how to explain what was happening, but you needed to tell him. You needed help, and if there was a chance all of this could be over if you just told him the truth, you were willing to let down your walls. Eddie had always told you he'd do anything to help you, and you just banged your hands on the steering wheel as you tried to rid the idea from your mind that that, too, had changed.

When you got to Eddie's front door, the lights were on and you prayed he'd answer despite the late hour. You knocked, waited; knocked again, waited some more. After 4 minutes, you were pounding at his front door until it was shoved open - forcing you back a step - and to your horror, there stood Chrissy Cunningham... In Eddie's favorite Metallica shirt.

And only his shirt.

"Oh, hey," Chrissy smiles awkwardly, shifting her weight over her feet. Her shining strawberry blonde hair is strung off her neck in a messy bun that makes her look fucking ethereal. "Um, Eddie's in the shower... Do you want me to go get him for you?"

But the small blemish poking out from the collar of the shirt she wore made you shake your head through tears; trying to offer a small smile. "No, oh, my God, I'm so sorry, I-I didn't mean to interrupt. Shit, my bad, Chrissy," you backed away down the stairs, needing to use the railing to save yourself from falling over.

"You weren't," she assured. "We were, um... Done. H-He's in the shower, why don't you come in?" Her brows pulled together as if a string was threaded between them, offering sweetly, "I was gonna make some tea, do you want some? We could, um, hang out? Until he's out of the shower, i-if you want?"

FUCK! You knew Eddie didn't have fucking tea, so, the sweetheart must've brought it with her and now, she's offering to make you some? God damn it. Why'd she have to be so nice!?

"Oh, yeah, um, no, no thanks, Chrissy, that's really nice of you, but it's really nothing. I should just get going, I'll talk to him later, um... H-Have a nice weekend, and I'm sorry, again."

"Are you sure? You look kinda upset - I don't think you should drive right now."

Eddie didn't notice - but one look from Chrissy Cunningham and she had. If your heart wasn't broken before, it was now.

You nodded despite the pain swelling in your chest, "Yeah, no, no I'm fine - I should've just called. It's not a big deal, I'm sorry again, um, good night, Chrissy, um, yeah - just, yeah, have a nice night."

She nodded, "You, too. I hope you feel better, I'll tell Eddie you stopped by."

You trusted that she would, returning home and with petals still sticking to your tongue, charged into your mother's room. She sat up in her bed in shock - late night shifts taking their toll and leaving her sleep deprived. This was her first weekend off in months, and you felt terrible for interrupting her, but you couldn't hold it in anymore.

You needed your mother. You needed her more than ever before because your fear was tangible, and you weren't ready to die.

See, thing is, your mother was borderline your best friend (besides Eddie, that is). She and your father had been high school sweethearts, married, and he died in a tragic car accident on the night your mother was going to tell him she was pregnant on their first wedding anniversary. She never dated, she never brought a man home, she only focused on you. When you got older, she figured she could work more and you were happy to support her; taking up more house chores to save her from any unnecessary stress.

It was just you and your mother... Until Eddie, then, he was a constant presences at your dinner table. He had his own Christmas stocking your mother knitted. His favorite snacks kept in a stocked up supply for whenever he chooses to visit. And you and your mother would spend an entire day baking a cake for his birthday before hosting a full meal for him and his Uncle Wayne.

Your mother never had an issue with doing any of that because she was grateful for Eddie being in your life. It made her feel as if you'd never be alone.

However, you now felt like a burden, but the moment your mother clocked your tears and trembling hands clutching bloody tissues, she was beckoning you to her chest and begging you to tell her what was wrong as she rocked you soothingly.

So, you confessed. Everything.

From that night in 7th grade when you saw Eddie mesmerized by Chrissy Cunningham for the first time. That being the night you coughed out petals... And how everything changed and got worse from there on, and you didn't understand what was wrong, why you were suffering.

You told her about how you were now coughing out the full thorny blooms, how the bleeding wouldn't stop; how the pain was festering, spreading, and suffocating your heart, mind, and soul.

You told her about tonight... What you saw... How nice the cheerleader had been, how you couldn't find it in your heart to hate her, and how you didn't know what to do anymore.

You told her how Eddie didn't notice anymore - he couldn't see you - because he could only see Chrissy, and it was slowly killing you.

It took all night to explain, and your mother sat you at the kitchen table. She made you hot tea and plated a few cookies - talking well through the night and into the morning. She wanted to understand everything and as the sun breached the horizon, she was encouraging you to tell Eddie how you felt after reading the same book you had that explained the disease you suffered from.

You told her she was crazy, but she begged you to at least try. She validated that you had the right idea in going to his trailer; she thought that you and Eddie had always been cute, that you'd make a great couple; and though your sense of style had changed again (after it didn't get Eddie's attention, like you'd hoped), she still thought you two complimented each other well. "You balance each other, my dove," she whispered. "Tell him. Please, for your own sake."

So, you bucked up the courage to tell him on Monday. You'd see him at school and couldn't back down, leaving it neutral grounds for you both to be honest and open in. Or, so you hoped.

That morning, you caught Eddie before he could enter the school and asked to talk to him. "Shit, I meant to call you, doll," he breathed, looking at you with concern. "Chrissy said you were upset and showed up at my door - are you okay? What was wrong? I'm sorry I wasn't there."

So, when Chrissy points it out, he pays attention. Instead, you just answered, "It's okay, I'm okay. Um, c-can we go talk? Privately?"

"Of course, yeah, c'mon," he agreed, leading you to the lesser-populated hallway to slip into the old drama classroom that now posed as the Hellfire Club room. Eddie sat on his throne but leaned forward on his knees to hold your hands as you took time to think over in your mind what you wanted to say.

"Eddie," you whispered. "I-I just really need to tell you something, and you have to promise not to hate me after."

He nodded, "I could never hate you, pretty girl, and you know you can tell me anything."

"Right," you sniffled. "Well, um, listen, I just want you to know that I-I value this friendship more than anything, and never want to jeopardize it..."

"Okay, now you're scaring me," Eddie chuckled. His hands squeezed yours, encouraging, "C'mon, sweetheart, what's going on in that pretty little head of yours?"

You nodded, blurting, "I'm in love with you."

Only the silence stretched between you two like an oversized bubble of Hubba Bubba - popping as your words registered in his mind. His eyes just shot between both of yours, mouth opening to form a word before sighing and shaking his head. Panic and fear gripped your heart, lungs, and mind in a tighter vice than the white chrysanthemums' roots.

"You can't be," he finally whispered brokenly.

A record scratched in your head, "What?"

"You can't be in love with me," his head shook as he repeated his statement. "No, no, you - you can't be."

"Why can't I be? Is it that hard to imagine?"

"Because you're my best friend - you're supposed to be my best friend!" He looked spooked, startled, unsure, and like he was going to have an anxiety attack. "You can't be in love with me, you're just - no!"

"Well, I didn't exactly plan it."

"Just - stop!"

"Stop what?"

"Stop loving me!"

"You don't think I've tried!?"

"Try harder!"

"For fuck's sake, Eddie! You don't think this is hard enough?"

"Well, it'd be easier if you had some kind of restraint!" He snipped, wiping a hand down his mouth. "Shit, I mean, what the hell am I supposed to do about this?"

"I-I don't know!"

"Well, why tell me?"

You gulped, fearing telling him the truth now. Instead, you just whispered, "I-I take it you don't feel the same?"

"Shit, sweetheart," he sniffled, shaking his head, "y-you know I love you but... But no, I-I'm not in love with you."

You nod slowly, blinking even slower, "No?"

"I'm so sorry - fuck, God damn it."

"It's not your fault," you promised. "I-I didn't mean for this to happen, okay? I swear, I didn't want to do this, I never wanted things to change between us."

He nodded sadly, "I get that, I do, but I think I need time to think."

"Wait, what? Think about what, Eddie? L-Like - you need to think about us? You need time to think about us?" You squeaked, panic swelling. You started to cough lightly, that sticky feeling clogging your throat again.

"Yeah," he whispered. "Because I'm with Chrissy and I don't think she would like... This."

Now you understood... "So, because you're dating Chrissy, you can't be friends with me? We've been friends forever, Eddie, why does this have to change things?"

"Because you're in love with me! I didn't want you to be, you were supposed to be my friend. Just my friend!"

"I'm sorry it happened, but why does this mean we can't still be friends? I've dealt with it this long, I can go longer - "

"Because I'm in love with Chrissy, and can't do this to her! For fuck's sake, why'd you have to do this, huh? Why'd you have to fall in love with me right when I got a girlfriend - "

"It didn't just happen, Eddie, I've been in-love with you since middle school! But notice how we stayed friends! Please - please, we can stay friends, this doesn't have to change anything."

He shook his head, standing abruptly, "It changes everything. I gotta go - I just can't be here, I'm sorry."

"Eddie! Please! Wait, just wait, please, let me explain!" You begged, watching him flee the room; the door slamming in an echo around you and forcing the tears teetering in your waterline to fall pathetically. You felt your heart nailing you to the floor, tears falling numbly down your cheeks; hands shaking and coughing getting worse. Your hands finally found feeling again and rose, covering your mouth and nose to catch the splatter.

You hacked as your lungs shriveled to expel whatever clogged them, falling to your knees and needed to use two fingers to reach in the back of your throat to pull a full floral bloom out; blood dripping off of it and from your mouth to soak into the old, dingy carpet. The thorns pierced your finger pads when you rolled the short stem between them, the flower falling into the puddle of blood you'd spat out.

Stumbling to your feet, you kept a tissue in hand and covering your mouth; the material slowly saturating as you punched your mother's number in the outside payphone.

"Mom?" You begged into the receiver, wheezing and sobbing through the pain. Everything had changed, again. "I-I need you to take me to the hospital. Please, Mommy, i-it's hurts. 'S blood everywhere, an-and the pain - Mommy, please, it hurts so bad."

Your mother was pulling up in a skidding halt within 6 minutes. Her rubber tires burned over the pavement, slight smoke wafting into the air to indicate not just her speed, but her harsh stop when she saw your body bolting towards her.

From the side of the school, moments before the first bell rang, Robin Buckley and Nancy Wheeler watched you fully sprint for the car and how fast your mother pulled off, sharing an uneasy look before darting for the same payphone and calling Steve Harrington.

But they couldn't find you all over town, opting to wait at your house instead. They only waited for about an hour before your mother's car was pulling into the driveway.

"You gonna tell them?" Your mom muttered, smiling and waving at the three teenagers.

"Yeah," you whispered. "Doctors said keeping it a secret doesn't make it easier, right?"

She nodded, "For whatever it's worth, my dove, I think you're making the right decision. This took a lot of bravery, but you're going to get better, and you're going to feel better, too."

"I know," you whispered with a watery smile. "Just gonna suck until Thursday."

"I'll call the school, you're gonna be out for recovery for at least 2 weeks."

"Don't forget my post-op appointment," you nodded.

"Right," she agreed, opening her door and triggering you to follow suit. "Hey, kids," she beamed at your worried friends.

They greeted her politely (but enthusiastically) before she was excusing herself and heading for the house. It left you to stand before the three people, who, up until a few years ago, you wouldn't have imagined being real friends with.

Technically, you and Nancy Wheeler had been friends since before Eddie; Robin and Steve coming into your life through inter-dimensional circumstances before choosing to stick around.

"Are you okay?" Nancy asked first, looking the most worried. "We saw you running from school and thought something was wrong."

"So, you blew off school to stalk my house?" you teased lightly, trying to alleviate the pain settling on your heart after leaving the hospital.

"Exactly," Robin crossed her arms. "You ran like something was chasing you - we knew something was wrong. What is it? A-Are you okay? I mean, you looked pretty spooked, we were afraid something else came back - you know - "

"Okay, Robin, yeah," you chuckled lightly, interrupting her rapid words. "Um, I appreciate the concern, but it could've waited."

"Not when you've been acting funny for months now," Nancy shook her head. "Don't think we haven't noticed; you're skinnier, you look like you haven't slept in weeks, you carry tissues around like you're paid for it... What's up with you?"

"And I've clocked the constant nose bleeds," Steve nodded, arms folding against his chest. "Look, if something's going on, you're going to need friends through it, and we're willing to take on the job."

Your heart swelled slightly and you nodded, blinking quickly to keep the tears down. "Um, yeah... Yeah," you sniffled, looking up at them as the emotion couldn't be kept out of your voice, "something's going on, and um... I-I think I would like to tell you guys about it. Do you mind waiting in the backyard? I've gotta grab a book from inside, trust me, it can explain some things better than I can."

Nancy looked nervous as her fingers twisted together; Robin nodding before nudging her along. Steve shifted on his feet and dropped his arms, clearing his throat, "You sure?"

"Yeah," you nodded with a whisper. "Just hang tight."

He nodded with crinkled brows of concern, heading off behind the two girls as you bolted for the front door. Your mother was heard in her room, on the phone, and you dropped your school bag on your bed, snatched up the library book you checked out every year, and made for your backyard.

As kids, you and Nancy loved hanging out here because it was spacious, and your mother had a beautiful garden with patio furniture nestled amongst the greenery. At the white-washed table, Steve, Nancy, and Robin waited together, muttering quietly, and left you to take your seat.

Sighing, you opened the book and slid it forward; Nancy's hands darting to pick it up and read swiftly as you began your tale. After voicing everything to your mother, you had a better idea of how to word it all; starting with when you realized you had a crush on Eddie in the 5th grade, how it festered in middle school, and when you realized you'd only be friends - so, you kept it that way.

You told them about the tiny bits of torn up petals, then how they became intact. Next, you explained how things got worse for you; blooms being coughed out with blood, how Eddie crushed majorly on Chrissy, and then to how everything hit rock bottom.

You explained the petals changed into full blooms, sprouting thorns as you stuffed your feelings deeper inside your cracked heart. You explained the constant pain, the confusion, the sleeplessness, showed them the cuts on your lips and in your mouth; even picking a leftover petal from the inside of your cheek to prove your point.

Steve's hand deftly reached out to examine it.

You explained the mental anguish of loving someone who couldn't love you back; the anguish of being so close - yet so far; and the anguish of knowing you were being killed from the inside, out because you couldn't let go of your overwhelming feelings for Eddie 'the Freak' Munson.

Then... You told them about Chrissy and Eddie at his trailer when you went to tell him the truth. How you confided in your mother for the first time in years. How you were encouraged to tell Eddie - and how it royally backfired, which lead you to today.

To your decision.

To your appointment at the hospital that your mother bullied administration into giving you last minute.

To meeting the cardiothoracic surgeon that diagnosed you with, as the library book highlighted, Hanahaki Disease.

Steve had tears in his eyes; elbows bent on the tabletop to keep his folded hands in front of his mouth, like he was physically suppressing his emotion with the petal laid to the table. Robin stared at you the whole time, never once making you feel as if you were talking to thin air; brows crinkled and perked at appropriate moments, never interrupting.

Nancy had read the entire passage before slamming the book down and letting her tears fall. She listened intently as you explained to the three that you had to choose one of three options, and immediately after that, you told them you had come to a decision.

You'd made the appointment and you were to under the knife that Thursday before returning in two weeks for a post-op check-up that would ensure all of the blooms were cleared from your lungs. And after today, you had discovered the plants were creeping up your esophagus and if you waited, soon, it would kill you.

"Well, why're you upset?" Robin asked gently, reaching for your hand. "This is good, right? Y-You'll be cured!"

You nodded in agreement, but it was Nancy voicing, "She'll forget Eddie completely."

"What?" Steve asked, looking between you and Nancy urgently. "Are you serious?"

"It's the only contingency in exchange for my life," you nodded.

"You've been friends forever," he shook his head, leaning back. "No, I just - I can't believe him. He doesn't love you back? That's just bullshit - c'mon!"

"Steve - "

"No, seriously!" he cut Robin off, her hand tightening in mine. "We've all seen how he looks at you, how he behaves! It doesn't make sense, it's not possible. He's just scared," his head shook still, looking angry with pinched brows. "He's scared and he's not thinking."

"No, Stevie," you whispered, "he understands, and trust me, he doesn't feel the same. It's okay."

"You'll forget your best friend," Steve shook his head. "That's not okay."

"It's a small price to pay, right?"

Nancy nodded, "If it means you're out of pain, and you won't die, yeah, I'd say it's a reasonable price to pay."

You agreed, "It's gonna be okay, but I'll be in recovery until the surgeon okay's me to return to school and normal activity."

"Will you remember why you need the surgery?" Robin wondered.

"Apparently not," you shrugged.

For the next few days, you remained at home and prepared for your operation. Your mother worked extra shifts because she was taking Thursday through TBD in order to take care of you, and your friends visited you everyday.

Nobody spoke of Eddie, who had asked Robin that Wednesday where you were - only to receive a fierce glare and slammed locker in his face. Chrissy's brows furrowed at the aggression, worrying something was wrong with you if your friends were shunning Eddie. She reminded him of how upset you'd been when you showed up at his trailer, his mind flashing to when he found a bloodied white chrysanthemum in the Hellfire room after he left you when you confessed your feelings for him.

He knew that was why you showed up at his trailer that night, and his heart constricted as he grew cold in your absence. He had to admit, if you've had these feelings since middle school, you never let it interfere with your friendship and he was a fool for blowing up at you.

Could it really be that hard to love you? Was the idea that far fetched?

The day of your surgery, your mother and you pushed out of your front door at 4 am to make it to the hospital for pre-op; blood work; all the standard procedures that needed done before you were sliced open and roots carved out of your lungs. And to your honest shock? Steve Harrington was waiting on the street, leaning on his car, dressed in a pair of jeans and an old hoodie.

"What're you doing here?" You wondered, oblivious to your mother's knowing smirk.

Steve shrugged lightly, "Figured you'd want a familiar face around, and Nance and Robin have tests in school today - otherwise, they'd be here, too."

"'Too'?" You repeated with a soft smile.

"Yeah, well, I-I'd still be here," he nodded. "Is that okay?"

"Yeah," you breathed, nodding with a soft smile. "I think I'd really appreciate the, um..."

"Support? Comfort? Seeing my pretty face when you wake up from anesthesia?" He grinned.

"All of the above, Harrington, c'mon," you chuckled, waving him with you. In your mother's car, she kept conversation light as a distraction when your nerves flared the closer you drove to the hospital; the boy in the back doing his best to chime in charmingly. Steve was allowed to stay with you once in the pre-op procedure room (again, your mother bullied hospital admin into letting him stay), and cracked a few really poor jokes while needles were poked into your skin.

Medicine was administered, your hair stuffed into a surgical cap, vitals taken for a final time - and then it was time to go.

When you were wheeled away, Steve squeezed your hand and your mother kissed your forehead; both wishing you luck, reminding you of your brave decision, and sent you down the sterile hallway. While staring up at the blinding, florescent lights of the operating room, a gas mask was placed over your mouth and the anesthesiologist instructing you to count backward from ten... And your heart begged you to change your mind.

Begged you not to erase Eddie. Begged you to jump off that table.

But your mind told only your tongue to move, and you counted, "Ten."

Eddie's soft hair through your fingers, "Nine."

Eddie's stupid grin when he's showing you a new guitar riff he'd mastered, "Eight."

Eddie's laugh, "Seven."

The warmth of Eddie's hugs, "Six."

His hands holding your cheeks, thumbs sweeping to clear your tears as he would coo to you, trying to calm you down, "...Five..."

"She's out," the doctors nodded to one another; scalpels clinking over the sterile table, machines beeping to indicate vital readings, and rubber gloves snapped into place as your hospital gown was peeled away, and disinfecting betadine squirted over your skin.

Across town, in the hallways of Hawkins High, Eddie was pacing by your locker. He looked disheveled, not himself; confused and scared, by what Robin could judge.

"What're you doing here?" she shot venomously, using her hand to push his chest and force him back a step from your locker.

"Where is she?" he begged. "Please, Robin, I know she's hurt - I know I hurt her, but I have to talk to her an-and she hasn't been at school all week. Please - I have to talk to her."

She used your combination to open your locker and set the packet of missed work inside for her to pick up at the end of the day, sneering, "It's too late."

"No, it's not - "

"No, seriously, Eddie," she snapped, the locker slamming in an echo. "It's too late for you. She's let you go, time for you to do the same."

For two weeks, Eddie repeated the last words he'd said to you, how broken you looked when he said he didn't love you. The words you said to him, then how you weren't seen again, to that bloody flower he found, and how Robin, Nancy, and Steve were all giving him the cold shoulder. He thought over what went wrong and every single way he was going to make it up to you, because while he might be in love with Chrissy Cunningham, there was never replacing you - and he needed you.

Eddie needed you.

And his heart sunk to his stomach as he realized how bitter he's turned; shunning Chrissy, becoming testy, canceling Hellfire, and missing you to the point he was tugging his hair out of his scalp and chain smoking cigarettes.

Loving you was easy and maybe he's loved you longer than he's known - longer than he ever wanted to admit. But missing you was hard, and Eddie wasn't accustomed to it.

It was supposed to be easy between you two, but when you confessed your feelings, Eddie felt everything become messy and change. Eddie Munson wasn't very good with change. He missed your laugh, he missed your comfort, a few times he'd even looked up to his bed when he mastered a new guitar riff - and feeling his heart sink in disappointment when he only saw Chrissy.

Granted, she was smiling at him, but it wasn't your smile. Tears filled his eyes when he realized he spent every Friday with Chrissy, finding new ways to impress the cheerleader, and feeling crushed when he remembered he never needed to impress you. You were always proud of him, you always encouraged him, and with a single look, you could say more than ever opening your mouth.

Eddie needed you, and he had ruined any chance of loving you properly. But Edward Munson was stubborn and not willing to give up, not until you were beating him off with a stick. The two of you had been friends forever and he knew you had some fights, but one way or another, someone was always apologizing and together, you could move past the issue. So, until you were telling him to fuck off, he was going to try - because you had never given up on him.

Two weeks of nothing. Two weeks of your home's voicemail. Two weeks of nobody answering the front door. Two weeks of confusion, heartache, and stress. Two weeks of smoking packs of cigarettes, of snapping at Chrissy, of praying to a God he's never prayed to before.

When he saw you that Friday, Eddie's heart leapt into his throat and he gave a strangled gasp before sprinting across the carpark to make it to your side. You were surrounded by Nancy Wheeler and Robin Buckley, all three piling out of Steve Harrington's car - who now leaned on his driver's door, mid-conversation - and he thought you looked more beautiful than ever.

The weight you've lost had slowly built back up now that you weren't constantly vomiting. Your head had cleared, your heart feeling lighter than ever before, your veins racing with helium, and the bags under your eyes had cleared. In fact, your eyes looked clearer than they ever had, and your skin was practically glowing.

God did you look good.

Eddie panted your name, coming to a skidding halt as Steve pushed off his car and looked at you with worry.

Why would Harrington need to worry about you?

"Oh, uh, hi there?" you nodded at him, tugging your binder closer to your chest and sending a cautious look to Robin.

But Eddie's heart was in his throat, "I-I need to talk to you, please."

To his horror, you shook your head, "Um, I don't think we actually have anything to talk about."

"What? No, we have so much to discuss, please, I know I was a jackass and you don't deserve that - "

"Wait, hang on, I-I'm sorry. You don't understand, we don't have anything to talk about," you chuckled weakly, "because I don't know you."

Ice shot into Eddie's veins, stuttering, "W-What? Th-That's not funny, doll, don't joke like that."

You looked at Nancy for support, whispering in a small, panicked voice, "I don't know him, do I, Nance? I don't think I know him."

"No, honey," Nancy assured, smiling softly at you before glaring at Eddie. "He's just a classmate."

Eddie knew Nancy was protective of you but what the hell was going on? What kind of a sick prank was this? Look, Eddie knew he's pulled some mean jokes in his life but this? This wasn't mean, it was cruel, and he didn't find it funny in the least bit.

"What? No - what the hell are you guys talking about?" Eddie begged, looking between the four teenagers. "Sweetheart, it's me - it's Eddie. It's your Eddie, please, what do you mean you don't know me - what's going on? This isn't funny, sweetheart, please, okay? Look, we've known each other a decade, right, how can you - how can you not know me?"

"I'm really sorry, um... Eddie? Was it Eddie?"

His heart shattered, shards stinging as they were pumped through the rest of his body. "Sweetheart, no, please, I just... I'm so sorry, but this isn't funny - "

"Look, I'm really sorry, but this isn't a joke, I really don't know you," your head shook. "And I would remember someone I've known a decade - right?" You asked Nancy again, looking nervous. "I-I don't know him, but he knows me. Nancy, I-I don't understand, I don't know what's wrong. Is something wrong with me?"

"No, honey," she rushed to speak, sending Steve a pointed look when stress made your eyes shine. "You're okay, you're okay, it's okay."

"Okay, hey, hey, hey, okay," Steve stepped in, pushing Eddie back a few steps. "You need to back off, you're upsetting her."

"I'm upsetting her?" he repeated, tears collecting as his feet tried to plant against Steve's force. "She doesn't remember me - "

"Back off, dude," Steve warned.

"I'm really sorry," you called to him, genuine look of distorted pain over your face. "I'm sorry," you repeated to Robin and Nancy, "I-I don't know him, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I-I don't know what's wrong, I'm sorry - "

"Hey, hey, breathe, okay? It's all fine, it's all good, you're okay, I promise, just try to focus on breathing," Robin assured, hand rubbing circles over your back.

"No! Baby! You do know me!" Eddie begged over Steve's shoulder as Nancy turned you away. "Please! No! You know me, baby! Don't do this, please, please, I need you! Sweetheart - please! I need you, and I'm so sorry for what I said! Don't do this! No, please, I-I'm sorry!"

His heart glued itself back together just to shatter once again when Robin took your books to let your hands slap over your ears to block him out as Nancy directed you away - Steve still pushing Eddie back.

"Dude!" Steve snapped with anger coloring his iris' a darker shade, "You're fucking upsetting her!"

"Steve, please - "

"No," Steve shook his head. "You had your chance, and it's too late. Okay? Leave her alone, she doesn't remember and doesn't need you trying to 'remind' her when it's already done, dude. Okay? It's done."

"What the hell does that mean? Please, Steve, I need her - she's my best friend and I can fix this," Eddie begged.

Steve felt fleeting compassion for the other boy, seeing the distress and heartbreak over his face. Steve sighed, glancing back to see you being spoken to softly by Nancy and Robin, assuring you it was okay not to remember the boy with long hair, before turning to look into the eyes that had broken your heart on too many occasions.

"She doesn't remember because you were removed from her memory, Ed, you were just... All of you was removed from her, okay?" Steve sighed finally. "Look, it's hard to explain, but do yourself and her a favor?"

"Anything."

"Go to the library and look this up," he pulled a torn piece of paper from his pocket, handing it over. "It'll explain what was wrong, and you should hopefully be able to piece together why she can't remember you. Don't make this harder, all right? She's finally okay, and you were so sure you didn't want her that it's time for you to be okay without her, too. Don't do this to her, man, you get me?"

"What did I do?" Eddie whispered.

Steve gulped, shaking his head, "You couldn't love her back."

Eddie stood there, piece of paper clutched in his fingertips like the petal of a flower, as Steve turned and headed for you three girls. He lifted his arm to bring you in for a side hug, assuring you that it was okay not to remember - while Eddie stood there, like you had so many times, watching with tears and heartbreak in his eyes.

He didn't go to classes, he obsessively searched books for the Hanahaki Disease Steve told him about; finding his answers, and never finding peace. He had to live everyday watching you really bloom into your own person; becoming more radiant by the passing second, realizing he was draining you of your life before, and how there wouldn't ever be room for him with you now.

When you graduated with an acceptance to your first choice college, you returned home in your cap and gown with a giggling Robin and Nancy; planning on changing and getting ready to hit a few grad parties already. The girls were so excited that you were feeling (and looking) better now that they didn't want to waste anymore time and insisted you all hit a few parties. However, before you could hop up the stairs to your room, a large bouquet of flowers caught your attention.

Sat on your kitchen counter was a thick bouquet of white chrysanthemums. There was no note, no signature, but something in your gut twisted with knowledge. Your fingers reached out to gently stroke the petals before smiling lightly, leaning in to sniff them, and then turn for the stairs to rush up to your bedroom.

All the while across town, a long haired metalhead in a matching green cap and gown, tipped a bottle of Irish whiskey to his lips; a single stemmed white chrysanthemum rolled between his fingers; old polaroid photos scattered around his body on the floor, tears sliding down his cheeks, and regret echoing across his mind.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fics #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things x reader #stranger things 4 #stranger things season 4 #requests open

[sashi-ya]

五 𝗦𝗘𝗡𝗦𝗘𝗦 𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗡𝗧: 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬 ~ [+18] 𝚃𝚛𝚊𝚏𝚊𝚕𝚐𝚊𝚛 𝙻𝚊𝚠 𝚡 𝙵! 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

✦ request: @jadedrrose asked: Congrats on 5.5k Sashi!! Can I request “Shivers through my spine when you whisper into my ear” with Law x fem reader? Thank you!! <3 ➜ thank you love!! hope you like what I wrote for you 💖 ✦ tw: NSFT. mdni. sex in a tent. thigh fucking. fingering. romantic. sexy ass Law whispering you as he fucks you. ✦ wc: 1k ✦ masterlist

I have you, and you and only you. Into my arms, I have you trapped. Whispering I speak of lust, while I make you mine. oh, so mine.

Hiking has left you exhausted, but to see the sunset at the top of the world next to him was worth it. Law, who you didn’t thought could have been such an expert in camping showed you otherwise, and in just a moment he put up a big fire.

The sky tints in as many orange and lilac shades existing. Your skins bathed by the golden hour and his arms surrounds your back in loving and protecting embrace.

“It was an amazing idea, Law” you murmur, mesmerized by the beauty of the cosmic dance that precedes the night.

Law sighs in peace; after all he is now calm; “We needed some time for us, (Name)-ya”

As the sun goes finally down, hiding on its deathbed, the sound of his breathing mixes with the crackling noises of the bonfire that promises to keep you warm all night. It is, certainly, beautiful, and simple; enjoying nature and his hug can’t compare to anything else in this life.

Kisses and strong hugs come before dinner. Dinner, that you prepared with so much love in little, tiny polar bear, bento boxes.

“Onigiri, without umeboshi for my sweet love” you chime, passing the box to him.

Law smiles with his eyes, though his lips are always pressed into a fine line. Is not that he is not happy; it is just how he is.

“Thanks~” he grabs it with inked fingers that you love.

And both chat about stuff you can’t even remember; the flames that reflect on his golden eyes are enough beauty for you to be absolutely distracted. And, don’t get him wrong, it is for Law the same way.

A yawn or two coming from you alert the surgeon. “Are you tired? Let’s go to sleep” he proposes standing up and lending you his hand.

You smile. You are tired, but you don’t want this day to be over. Not yet… just, not yet.

Law helps you stand up and both get into the tent. Is not super spacious, but it is big enough to fit both of you comfortably. The many comforters make the hard floor underneath to feel like a cloud. It is perfect for sleeping… but maybe for so much more.

You take the first layer of clothing. Since spring is here, the weather isn’t as cold as before. Wearing just a t-shirt and a pair of shorts, you snuggle into your side of the “bed”.

The doctor, however, takes his time to be as unconsciously sexy as possible. He unzips his blue windbreakers and takes it out, perfectly folding it and leaving it to the side. You, giggle, since your clothes are now laying on who knows where inside that tent crunched into a ball.

Law’s arms, exposed since he is wearing a white tank top, show the hearts tattooed near his shoulders. Slightly muscular, the caramel skin makes you smirk. How hot he is, and how unbothered he seems…

Then, his spotted jeans. You act all sleepy, but with just one eye open you take a sweet look at your lover’s body dressed in just white shirt and heart pattern boxers.

You scoff, trying to keep it silent. It’s too cute to see a man covered in tattoos and piercings wearing such cute boxers.

“What?” he asks, getting into “bed” next to you. “Nothing, nothing. Cute ~” you giggle, turning around. Now your back faces him as you get ready to sleep.

Law, with blushed cheeks, stays for a few seconds staring at your nape in silence. And then passes one of his arms over your waist to hug you in a big spoon way.

You smile, his warmth is always so welcomed. Your skin is always so needy for his, and this alone can be considered heaven.

“What’s so funny, hm?” he asks, whispering right into your ear as he nuzzles into your hair.

“N- nothing… your- your boxers” you joke, enjoying his presence behind you. Feeling how he comes so close to you, pressing his own body against yours.

“Do you think they are funny, (Name)-ya? Hm? Should I take them off so that you stop laughing? Or should I make you stop laughing in any other way?” Law questions, passing his palm through your belly, down towards your core.

The way his soft, low voice sounds right in your ear, so whispery… it makes you tremble, it makes shivers run through your spine.

You take a side look at his lips from the side. So tasty they look, you want to bite them.

The tip of your tongue peaks shily through your lips, expecting your lover to trap it. But Law wants to go painfully slow tonight, to torture in the best way he knows how to… step by step, to make you beg, to make you plead for his body.

Just the tip of his tongue reaches yours, so delicately pulling backwards almost immediately. It forms a little string of saliva in between you two, and the warmth of his and yours breaths caresses your neck and shoulder.

His inked fingers search for your heat, scrutinizing the soft and hot skin as they go down. When they found your labia, they simply stay there, simply tapping over them so slowly.

You moan and arch your back a little bit. Your body, unconsciously, searches for more. And it makes Law laugh so sexily.

“Hhm… what is it? You like this, (Name)-ya? You want more?” he whispers, making you nod in response.

You move your ass side to side, grazing his growing hardness that feels so big and yet doesn’t seem to get desperate until you have summit yourself into it first.

“Oh my, so desperate… and you were laughing a second ago… you want this?” he asks, finally dipping his fingertips into your pooling wetness. He plays with your arousal, knowing exactly where your clit is, and still acting as if you didn’t deserve it to be touched.

Your pelvis moves so that his fingers can finally touch your special spot, while your hand traps his, so it doesn’t move an inch from your sex. “Touch me, don’t make me wait no more…”

You rip yet another laughter from him. And it’s rare, but it’s always during these situations where he does it the most. And Lord, nothing sounds better than his whispery giggles.

“Desperate, (Name)-ya. You are desperate. You are such a sweet slut for me ~” he purrs, biting your shoulder while finally penetrating you with one and then two fingers.

Beckoning motions have you mercilessly falling into his hands, turning you into a total slave of his desires. Your moans are louder, and they mix with the sounds of the mountain outside. Where you can only hear crickets, frogs, and wind now the melody is complete with the symphony of your whines.

Law’s free hand reaches for your breast, squeezing and pumping. It accompanies the way his fingers do magic with your sex. His lips that barely graze your skin open, as he himself gropes against your ass in search for some relief.

“I want your cock in between my thighs…” you barely manage to ask. “Ugh- yes” he finally says, giving up control to let the warmth inside of your legs to receive his sex.

You trap his shaft so close to your sex with your legs, allowing enough space for him to move back and forth. It sprouts transparent arousal that wets your skin and mix with your already dripping ones. And it’s such a mess, and his whispery moans sound so good.  

“Fuck me…” “Lift your leg, let me fuck you...”

#trafalgar law headcanons #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law x you #trafalgar law scenarios #trafalgar law #law headcanons #trafalgar law smut #law smut #law one piece #law scenarios #law x reader #trafalgar law x y/n #law x you #law x y/n #law imagine #one piece smut #one piece x reader #one piece x reader smut #heart pirates law #law #one piece x you #op smut #op x reader #op scenario #op imagines #op law #law op

[chanyeolsbiggestfangirl]

hey!! Can I request a chanyeol fic, reader is fwb with chanyeol and is madly inlove with him, confesses to him but gets rejected then when she decides to move on, chanyeol realises what hes lost 🥺

Synopsis: You met Chanyeol in the final year of college by pure accident when your previous roommate moves out and he comes in his place. Being roommates with a college hottie has it's pros.... but also it's cons. Every moment spend with Chanyeol tangled between the sheets ignited something deep within you, deeper than just bodily lust. But the real question is, is it the same way with him? Does your smile pull at his heartstrings just the way his pulls at yours?

Pairing:- Chanyeol X Fem Reader

Genre:- Smut, Angst

Author's note: YAYYY THIS IS MY VERY FIRST REQUEST. THANK YOU SOO MUCH ANON FOR REQUESTING THIS! IT GOT ME SOOO EXCITED! I HAD A LOT OF FUN WRITING THIS. I TRIED TO KEEP IT SHORT EVEN THOUGH THIS HAD ME CARRIED AWAY. ALSO I AM SO SORRY FOR THE DELAY :((

.... Sometime in late evening ....

It was a daily occurrence now, almost like clockwork. One of you would be having a shitty day (and that's mostly every other day) and you'd seek each other out.

Or rather, he would seek you out.

You didn't even enter the living room properly and he was already on you, his hand on your ass as he pulls you closer harshly, claiming your lips with a fervent need.

One of his hands took the books from yours and placed them on the table absentmindedly, his other hand squeezing your ass through the fabric of your jeans, all the while his tongue clashed against yours in a never ending battle for dominance.

It was exhilarating for him, for no matter how many times he'd have had you, you were always that wild, untamed brat that never quite bend at his will easily like the other girls who practically threw themselves at him.

You tiptoed as you tried to keep up with his kiss, giving him a run for his damn sanity with the way you bit on his lower lip, your moan was followed by his deep groan against your lips. Your arms were around his neck, fingers naturally tangling in his luxurious locks.

That was the way you guys were.

If someone would ask you what you and Chanyeol are, you would have no answer, absolutely none. You weren't together. You certainly aren't lovers. You were just two people who would seek each other out to let out your pent up frustration.

You still remember how it all actually began. It was the second last semester and your neat freak of a roommate moved out suddenly, and a tall and drop dead gorgeous giant came in.

At first you didn't give in to his advances, knowing fully well that Chanyeol wasn't the type to commit, wasn't the type to have something serious. But one drunken night and one taste of his lips was enough to convince you otherwise.

Outside the bedroom, you were roommates with completely different lives. Inside the bedroom, however, Chanyeol fucked you like he owned you, every inch of you. He was gifted at the art of the bedroom. He worshipped every inch of you like he cherished nothing more than he cherished you.

But you knew it was all a facade.

It was an unspoken agreement. No strings attached. Just sex. Nothing else.

Simple.

Or so you initially thought.

But every touch of his upon your heated skin, every kiss that took your breathe away, every word he uttered to you, it all built up into something until you realized that the reason why you can't go out with some other guy is because you're in love with the one who's interested in owning you only while in the sheets.

That jolt of harsh truth was what brought you back to the reality.

Chanyeol's lips leave your to trail a wet path down your neck, biting and suckling at your sweet spot on your neck, making you moan yet again.

Chanyeol always managed to coax moans from you like how one coaxes melody from an instrument.

You arch your neck, letting him have his way with you. You had little defenses when his lips and tongue and teeth made you lightheaded. He groaned against your skin, pulling you incredibly closer, grinding his hard length against your clothed center and gods, that almost made you see literal stars.

"Bedroom. Now." His deep baritone was laced with a needy growl, his hold on your waist turned impatient, tapping your thigh in a way to tell you to wrap your legs around him as he took you to his room, his lips finding solace in yours yet again.

Chanyeol let go of you lips only after your back hit the mattress, lips tracing a path downward, pulling your skirt and panties along and throwing them absentmindedly in some corner of the room.

What happened next is the same yet different for you. The same disregard for clothes, the frenzy of lips and tongue and teeth, his impatience in getting his hands on your bare skin. But even when the majority of these occurrences were the same for you, what was different was the way it felt each and every time.

His lips fervently mapping out your heated skin felt personal, his hands worshipping crevices; that even you don't deem worthy of attention; felt personal. When he ate you out like a man starved and made you come upon his skilled tongue, it felt personal. Each and every thrust of his girthy cock into your tight cunt felt personal.

They say to not catch feelings but how could you not? How could you not catch feelings when he whispered sweet nothings in your ear in his deep voice? How could you not catch feelings when he made you feel like you were something different, something important, and not just one of the many girls he sleeps around with? How could you not catch feelings when one smile of his could brighten your whole day? How could you not catch feelings when you beheld the passionate gleam in his eyes whenever he's doing the things he loves.

Time spent with Chanyeol tangling in the sheets was blissful, but that's exactly where the bliss ends and the harsh reality slaps. The sound of Chanyeol rolling off the bed, the light shuffling of feet, the rustle of clothes, oh and the final nail on the coffin, the sound of the door slamming shut as he leaves your room. All of it clawed away at your feelings. Whenever you get high hopes, Chanyeol slams the door shut on them.

It was getting exhausting, this cycle of mental torture. The fact that he probably fucked around with other girls and would touch and kiss and hold them the same he did with you. The fact that while these mutually agreed escapades meant nothing to him, they were the reason why you weren't seeing anyone else anymore. The final semester was coming to an end, and so was your sanity and patience.

You couldn't take the weight of the feelings locked deep in your heart anymore.

You make up your mind, deciding that you'll tell him, hoping against hope that his reaction would be affirmative.

"What if he doesn't reciprocate?", whispered a little voice in your head.

You pushed those thoughts aside, trying not to think of how exactly Chanyeol's possible rejection might effect you.

.... A Week Later ....

The past was repeating itself yet again when Chanyeol stood up from the couch he moment you entered and crossed the distance between you both, lustful intentions swimming in his brown orbs. He made to pull you closer, hand reaching out when you stepped back.

Unspoken questions were evident in his gaze, a slightly pained expression taking form in his eyes. You took that was an opportunity to speak, your voice low, your eyes on his.

"What are we, Chanyeol? What am I to you?"

Chanyeol's demeanor shifted at that, body going rigid as he pulled back the hand that was reaching out towards you. He underwent a whole change. His eyes went vacant, face going neutral and you were no longer able to read the expressions on his face, the emotions in his eyes.

Standing right before you was a man who couldn't care less.

He shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest, "It isn't that deep. It's just sex, y/n. We talked about this."

The audacity. The mere audacity of this man, to shrug and cross his arms as if this isn't like the matter of life and death for you.

You took a step closer, your feelings replaced by bubbling anger, anger and pity, anger on how stupid you've been, anger on him, pity for yourself, pity for the pathetic situation you've got yourself in. While you were boiling up from within, tears had started to line the corner of you eyes with the way this conversation was turning out.

You tried to sound anything but broken, but your voice betrayed you. "You've got to be kidding me, Chanyeol! It isn't 'just sex' and you know it too!"

The tall man had the audacity to huff a humorless laugh at your words, and it further made your composure crumble. He ran a hand through his hair frustratingly, throat bobbing as he took deep breaths.

"C'mon y/n, don't be absurd. Or perhaps.. did you think that we are a thing? It was just sex, dammit! We talked about this. About not catching feelings. Don't be a child, y/n."

Ouch

That. That was perhaps the last straw for you, for you and the tears you've been holding back. They cascaded down your cheeks in a hot, salty trail and you let them. You were done trying to act like you were okay when you actually weren't.

Chanyeol stilled, taking all but one step towards you before you held up a hand, taking two steps back, away from him.

"y/n... please... I'm sorry. It.. came out wrong.. listen to me.. let's talk-"

"No."

You were done. After being trapped in an endless cycle of having nothing but one sided feelings, making a fool of yourself in front of this man who is brushing it off as if your heart isn't at your fucking throat, you were done. You still have some self respect left in you and you'll not do the mistake of letting him affect you this greatly again.

Pining Chanyeol with a stern look, you turned to your heel, running up the little distance to your bedroom, closing the door behind you and locking it. All of Chanyeol's half hearted pleas were put to a deaf ear.

You leaned against the door, your legs giving out beneath you as you sank to your knees. Back against the door, you pulled your knees to your chest, head bowing as you cried and cried and cried, the voice of Chanyeol's pleas fading and then vanishing entirely followed by a soft thud of footsteps as he left.

.

.... Three Hours Later ....

After an hour of crying, two hours of pitying yourself and stewing in your grief, you finally raise your head with a determined gleam in your eyes.

You were done.

So very done.

.

Sometime around 10 the next morning

"y/n?"

Chanyeol's deep voice reverberated throughout the apartment, getting no answers. He called out again, desperate and breathlessly this time. He had already knocked thrice on your door, three harsh raps on the wood that would wake even the dead.

Now that he was awake after a very disturbing sleep last night, he wanted to make amends. He wanted to talk to you. Just the mere thought of losing you; because of something he said in the heat of the moment without prior knowledge of how he actually felt; just that thought alone made him lose his fucking mind.

He took a deep breathe, readying himself, for what, he didn't know. He took out the extra pair of keys from his pocket, pulling out the one to your door, putting it in and turning it before he could second guess himself.

He gasped.

No

It couldn't be

He had braced himself for a lot of ways in which this situation could have unfolded in front of him and yet the particular way in which the things played out caught him completely by surprise.

The room, which belonged to you, was empty, save for the the bed, the table and the closet and the various drawers and other conventional things that were always there. All your posters were gone, all your favorite books were gone, every single thing that screamed your name to Chanyeol was gone.

He took unsteady steps towards the bed, grabbing the pillow that lay there. It smelled faintly of you, strawberry and vanilla. His breathe came in raspy pants as he wrapped his mind around what had happened.

You had left.

Left him.

Chanyeol sank to his knees and wept, tears free flowing from his beautiful eyes in angry torrents.

.

A very much requested Part 2 of this

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[coloredsolos]

NIGHTMARES II

pairing: jean kirstein x gn!reader

content: this takes place during the scouting mission to marley, so in between s3 and 4

wc: 1.4k

a/n: finally!! a part 2 to nightmares hehe!! sorry it took so long I was so uninspired and eh idk! also wasn't sure how to end it at all so oops! view part 1 here

You had been quiet on the boat ride to Marley. The heavier clothing felt uncomfortable, and the atmosphere was stiffer then the linen suit you had been wearing.  

“Hey”, a voice came from next to you. If you had been startled, you didn’t show it.

“Hey,” You greeted the person beside you without turning to look at them. You recognized the previous voice as Mikasa’s. 

“Why are you avoiding Jean? It’s very… awkward,” she stated bluntly. 

You let out a curt laugh, your eyes remaining on the sea.

“I’m not avoiding him. I just have no interest in talking to him.” You lied through your teeth.

“Why?” Mikasa was quick to ask.

“Mikasa, what would you do if you told Eren how you felt and he shut you down completely? If he made you feel like utter garbage for feeling the way you do?”

The short haired girl was quiet. 

“That’s why.”

You had no reason to be so short with Mikasa, I mean, she didn’t do anything right? It’s not her fault she was the object of Jean’s affection all the fucking time. She couldn’t help the fact she was beautiful, strong, and so many other great things. 

But you were angry. Angry that Jean seemed fine in the weeks that passed your confession, he was even back to his cocky, albeit, over confident, self. He had become flirtatious once more. You often saw him flirting with some of the other scouts, however knowing Jean, it was just good fun.

Why didn’t you get to have fun? Why did you have to spend your time avoiding your friends so you didn’t create an awkward environment for them whenever you were around Jean (a feat which obviously had failed). 

You felt alone. For the first time since you joined the 104th cadet corps, you felt truly and utterly alone. You lost the man you thought you loved (in the worst way possible might you add), and now you were pushing away your friends. 

The trip to Marley was meant to be a scouting mission, go undercover to investigate the status of Marley as a nation and identify its weak points. However, it was more than that. It was a chance to finally feel free, and you were going to use that to your advantage. This trip you were going to just live. You were going to live for yourself instead of anyone else. Being a scout meant being aware that time is limited. You never knew when you wouldn’t be returning home. So although a part of you had longed for a life with Jean and your friends, a life where you all lived happily, forever, you knew better than to think that dream could ever become a reality. What you didn’t know? You failed to realize that there had been a familiar pair of eyes watching you from afar. 

For as long as he could remember, Jean’s feelings for you were far from platonic. He wasn't stupid, he knew he had royally fucked things up between the two of you. He wasn’t sure why he wasn’t able to accept your confession to him, especially when everyone around him knew how he felt about you. But now here you were avoiding him, and well to be honest it’s not like he was actively seeking you out. Which is why Jean was so surprised to find you sitting alone in the back of one of the tents of the family who had brought Eren and the rest of you to celebrate with them. You looked more upset than usual, which Jean knew was probably because of him.

The rustling of Jean pulling back the curtain separating you from the others had caused you to look up.

“Oh- uh- I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were back here, I’ll give you some space,” He muttered, turning to leave. He had a nice buzz and wasn’t looking for anything to take that away, and to be honest, any conversation with you would probably do just that.

“It’s fine, you can stay,” You mumble, avoiding his gaze. “I’ll leave.”

“No!” Jean interjected startling the both of you. “I mean uh- you don’t have to… we can hang out… like we used to.”

You stared at the boy in front of you. He had been shifting his weight from one foot to the other, clearly uncomfortable. You should have laughed in his face. But you couldn’t. Something longed for Jean the same way you had before. So instead, you nodded. 

“Yeah... uh okay.”

Jean wasn’t sure why he said that. Quite honestly the last thing he wanted was to “hang out.” 

“So uh… how have you been?” He found himself searching for something, anything, to say to you. You scoffed and sent him a glare. Obviously he had made the wrong choice. 

“How do you think I’ve been?” 

Jean cleared his throat. “Right uh…” 

Fuck it, he thought. 

“Listen, I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you or make you feel isolated from anyone.”

Your eyes shot up to meet his, how did he know you felt isolated? He must have sensed your confusion because he quickly answered.

“You don’t hang out with anyone anymore. They miss you. I miss you.”

You frowned. “Jean… you’re the one who pushed me away. Not the other way around. I told you how I felt 

“I know!” He exclaimed before clearing his throat. “I know I did,” he mumbled this time. 

A silence fell between the two of you. 

“What can I say to make things better?” Jean pleaded. “Please.”

You gave him a sad smile. Truthfully there was nothing he could say. Your friendship- or whatever the fuck you’d call it was tainted.

“I miss you.” He stated again, firmer than before. “I wish I could- I just- I don’t know…” he fumbled over himself.

Your lip trembled ever so slightly. Why was he still here? Couldn’t he tell this was killing you? You glanced down at your lap, where your hands continued to fiddle with one another.

Jean kept his eyes trained on you, he seemed to be lost in thought.

“Fuck it,” he mumbled. “You’re my everything too ya know? I don’t know why I pushed you away. No… actually I do. I was scared. I still am. I’m fucking terrified of losing you guys. Sasha, Connie, you. Especially you actually. Every fiber of my being wants to just keep everything bad away from you, I want to protect you. I don’t want you to have to keep losing people you care about and selfishly enough I don’t want you to lose me. I want to be there for you. I want to be there when you wake up, when you go to bed, when you can’t sleep, everything. It’s so fucking stupid. We’re so young and yet we quite literally have the weight of the world on our shoulders. I just- I don’t know. I can’t do it anymore. I can’t pretend like you aren’t my everything too.”

A loss for words was an understatement of your current status. Jean had just done exactly what you had begged him to do previously. He let you in. Not only did he let you in but he practically just declared how he felt about you… to you. How long had he been feeling this way? Didn’t he realize you were scared too? 

He called out your name softly, getting your attention to focus back on him. You let out a shaky breath, slowly getting back to your feet. 

Now standing, you made your way over to where Jean stood. The tips of his ears a shade of pink that made him look breathtaking.

“I’m scared too ya know.” You spoke quietly, coming to stand in front of the boy.

“I know,” Jean sighed.

“Im terrified of losing you. Im terrified of losing anyone but god losing you… I don’t know what I’d do. I couldn’t bare it Jean.” 

Jean gave you a sad smile, his hand hesitantly coming to rest on your cheek. You let out a shaky breath. 

“I’m not going anywhere. I know I can’t promise you anything because god who knows what’s going to happen, but I promise I can try.”

“That’s all I could ever ask for.” Tears brimmed your eyes at Jean’s words.

He leaned forward, resting his forehead on your own. “You mean so much to me.”

“You mean so much to me as well.” You let out a soft laugh. Jean grinned hearing your laugh for what felt like the first time in forever.

The two of you stayed their for a moment before you broke the silence. “Are you going to kiss me yet or what?” You joked.

Jean let out a loud laugh, before shrugging. “I don’t knowwwww, should I?” he smirked, back to his original cocky attitude. 

You rolled your eyes, however the smile never fell off your face.

“Pucker up Kirstein.”

#julia writes #jean kirstein x you #jean kirstein #jean kirstein x reader #jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirschtein x you #jean kirschtein #snk x you #snk x reader #snk jean #aot jean #aot x reader #aot x you #aot angst #aot fluff #attack on titan #attack on titan prompts #attack on titan x you #attack on titan x reader #shingeki no kyojin #shingeki no kyoujin #snk fluff #jean attack on titan #jean snk #jean kirstein fluff #jean kirstein imagine #jean kirstein imagines #jean kirschstein x reader #jean kirschtein imagine #jean x you

[peakyscillian]

Bend The Rules | Cillian Murphy Series

Summary: Cillian is unhappily married, to someone who doesn’t care about him, surely he can bend the rules? Warnings: Cheating, drama, Smut, Mature themes, sexual content, language. Angst Minors DNI Pairing: Cillian x Fem!Reader Part: 11 - Short Chapter A/N: No disrespect to Cillian/his family this is purely fiction.

Bend The Rules | Part 11

Masterlist | BTR Masterlist

Part Eleven.

The next two weeks at work were a blur, you kept yourself hidden away in the wardrobe department, mainly filing, sending off clothes to storage, sending out invoices as the season was wrapping up in a few weeks. You had been assigned to a few minor roles for fittings, but no-one from the main cast was sent your way. 

You’d seen Cillian a few times, he looked exhausted, the sharp bones of his face making him look drawn, he hadn’t looked at you once when passing, he’d left messages for you, that you kept moving to the archive function on your phone.

Your sister had been begging for you to come back to London, but you needed to finish off this job, you needed to prove yourself. You weren’t going to run away. 

You knew going to his apartment was a mistake, but god you just wanted to be close to him one last time, not have him walking away from you in your kitchen, the last memory of him.

You knew you were punishing yourself, he had tried to talk to you, tried to fix everything.

You’d arrive on set early on the final Friday, half a day to get through before everything was finished off, so you could run back to London and forget about Manchester. 

You were surprised to see Cillian sat outside the wardrobe department, reading one of his many books, coffee by his feet.

He looked up as you got closer, an unsure smile on his face as you unlocked the door, he followed you in “Please talk to me” he broke the silence, you busied yourself with unpacking your bag, setting up your laptop “what's there to say?” you asked, not looking at him afraid you’d crumble the second you locked eyes with him. 

“You leave in the middle of the night and I don't hear from you? You won't hear me out about this whole fucking mess? There’s a lot to fucking say” he was leaning against the wall. 

You finally turned to look at him “I’m the one this is punishing, I’m losing my fucking job because of this, because of her" you spat, anything to do with her put a bitter taste in your mouth, "and maybe I shouldn't have come round the other night but you didn't fucking stop me” you were trying not to shout at him.

“Losing your job?” Cillian was shocked, surely not? “Lucinda can’t keep me on for the next however many seasons because no one will trust me, because I’m some kind of harlot lurking in the wardrobe department stealing husbands” you felt hysterical, you hadn’t said anything like this out loud in weeks. 

Cillian moved away from the wall, stepping towards you, you shook your head “and this is such a fucking mess, because I love this job, everything about this has been my dream and now I can’t stay” you swiped at the tears rolling down your cheeks.

“Even if I could stay, I wouldn’t be able to, I can’t be around you, I can’t see you everyday and know how much you hurt me, how you lied to me” you grabbed for a tissue.

Cillian knelt down in front of you “I haven’t lied, I promise I haven’t, fuck I know I’ve hurt you, I wish I hadn’t hurt you" he stopped catching his breath before he carried on, "but I need you to know everything I told you, about me and her was true, I want to work this out, I want you” he looked close to tears, his hands resting lightly on your knees stroking his thumbs over the material of your jeans. 

You shook your head hiccuping as you covered his hands with yours “I want you, but not like this, I can’t do it like this. I've got to leave” 

Cillian sighed “why are you punishing yourself? We can work this out”, you diverted your gaze to the floor “this isn't how I wanted us to be, this isn't the amazing love story I thought we could have, I've got to go”’

Cillian bit at his lip, “Please don’t” he stood up trying to keep everything in check, trying to keep his emotions at bay. 

“I have too, what kind of life is this Cillian? I can’t do it, fuck I’m so stupid because I told you, I told you someone was going to get hurt and what a big surprise that it’s me” you laughed lightly. 

You walked across to him, hands cupping at his face “I’m going back to London, going to spend some time away, you’ll be okay, you needed out of your marriage” his hands were on your hips.

“Can’t I make you stay?” he asked, you shook your head, standing on tiptoes brushing your lips with his, “We obviously weren’t meant to be Cill” you sighed as you both pulled away. 

“We were meant to be, just the wrong time” he shrugged, “definitely the wrong time for us” you added, fingers hooked with his.

“I meant it when I told you I love you” he licked across his lips, you nodded “I meant it to, but now everything that’s gone on? It feels tainted” you let go of his hands knowing it was getting harder to walk away from him. 

“Will you let me know how you are, in a few weeks? Once you’ve settled back in London?” he asked, hopeful to still have some contact.

You nodded “give me some time, you’ll be back in Dublin you don’t need to worry about me” you tried to joke, he smiled “I’ll always worry about you, fuck you’re always going to be on my mind” he cupped his hand under your chin. 

You cursed yourself for the tears that started to fall again “don’t Cill-” you felt your lip quiver as he wiped away the tears.

“Please just leave before I do something that makes it harder, again” you looked at him, as he nodded dipping to kiss you one last time. 

You waited until he had closed the door, until you were sure he was out of the building before you locked the door and let yourself cry.

-

Taglist @cillmequick @runnning-outof-time @look-at-the-soul @gypsy-girl-08 @heidimoreton @thomasshelbee @forgottenpeakywriter @shelbydelrey @allie131313 @cillixn @midnightmagpiemama @zablife @queenshelby @missymurphy1985 @janelongxox @cloudofdisney @being-worthy @vhscillian @radioheadgirl @elenavampire21 @datewithgianni @magicalpieex @camilleholland89 @cilliansangel @uchihacumdump @inkandpen22 @ysmmsy @lyarr24 @anotherhitandrun @alreadybroken-ts @flyingjosephine-blog @moral-turpitudes @duckybird101 @lostgirl219 @blyanyan @flippittygibbitts @stevie75 @winchestergirl22 @stars-of-scorpio @lespendy @lovemissyhoneybee @pocket-of-possibilities @otterly-fey @gotohellandbackforyou @tinyminxie

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[formula1fanfiction]

Max Verstappen / George Russell

Title: Princess George

Pairing: Max Verstappen / George Russell

Characters: Max Verstappen, George Russell, Charles Leclerc

Prompt: In Baku, after the race Max and Russell had argued and Max called George as princess. Later that day Max visited George at his hotel room. Top Max- Bottom George.

rating: 18+

A/N: This is a little heavy but George is fully consenting and enjoying himself :)

Max is still furious with the events of the Baku sprint race, it's been hours since everything had happened but the hole of fury is bigger than the one that ended up in his Red bull, fuck George the stupid dickhead. However Max is still feeling proud of himself after the princess George comment.

Something pops into Max's mind, something Charles had told him recently. "George is a bit of a slut, I was mad at him so I went over to find him and he ended up on his knees with my cock down his throat. Max doesn't know what surprised him more doe eyed Charles Leclerc fucking someone's throat or the fact George Russell is a slut.

In the end Max decides to head over there if he can't fuck George, at least he'll have the opportunity to ruin that pretty face of his with his fists. It doesn't take him long to find out where the Mercedes driver is staying, Alex Albon having so innocently told him exactly where George's room is.

"Hi Princess George." Max stands with his hands on his hips smiling at an oh so cute, very confused George. Max uses George's surprise to his advantage and shoves George back into his room.

"What are you doing here?" George grunts as his back slams into the nearest wall. "Don't pretend you're not a slut George, like you don't drop to your knees like a cheap €5 whore." George's eyes darken, an unreadable expression on his face. "Who told you that?" Max can't quite keep the shark like grin off his face. "So it's true then?"

"Maybe..." George groans as his body is slammed into the wall again, he's failing miserably to keep the lust out of his eyes. George loves to be thrown around and fucked hard. "Are you going to pay for your crimes with your body princess George?" Max slips his fingers into George's hair and pulls hard. He lets go and takes a step back, giving George the chance to back out.

"I'm not sorry Max." George drops down onto his knees and crawls towards him and presses his face against Max's jeans. "However, if you want to use me, i'm not going to say no." Max threads his fingers back into George's hair and uses his free hand to unpop the button on his jeans and pushes them to the floor along with his boxer shorts.

"You really are a slut, Princess." George smiles, a glint of mischief in his eyes as Max pushes him towards his cock. Max, wants to fuck the smirk off his face, literally. Max groans as he shoves George's face onto his cock, the glint of mischief remains. Max holds him there, until George's eyes water, his vision going blurry. Max lets him up, just enough to take another breath before shoving him back down again.  

George's hands are shaking from the force of holding onto to Max's thighs, while Max just uses his throat, forcefully pounding into it, enjoying the way George is choking around him, while concentrating on breathing through his nose.

"How many other cocks you had down hear George?" Max holds him down again. "Just Charles, Lewis?" Max lets him take another breath, watching the amount of saliva run down from his lips. George is shoved down once more, longer this time until he feels like he might pass out this time. "The whole fucking grid?" Max lets him up and pushes him off his cock.

George stays on his knees panting, while Max stares at him. Maybe George shout be ashamed of getting off on humiliation, being used but he loves it, his cock is leaking, standing hard and proud against his toned stomach, without being touched.

"George, are you okay?" Max takes him in, his lips swollen and dripping with saliva, tears dried around his eyes and now a panting mess on the floor. George laughs, almost like a stereotypical villain. "What? Is that all you've got Max." oh.

"Well if that's how you want it princess, take your clothes off and get on the bed." George stands up on shaky legs, he rips off his clothes and leaves it in a messy pile on the floor. Max never specified on the position, so George gets on all fours, it's always easier when he's not looking at the person using him.

"I'm not going to go easy on you George." Max takes the bottle of lube and pours a generous amount on his fingers. "I don't want you to." George wiggles his bum back in anticipation, Max rewards him with a hard slap. "If you want to stop, shout Checo. Okay?" George tenses up. "I can take it, Max." Max circles George's entrance. "I'm sure you can princess." Max feels better getting that out, better to break character than literally break him.

Max lets his first finger inside, George is a lot looser than Max expected him to be so he quickly adds a second one. George cries out once Max starts to fucking him with the two fingers. "Such a slut, princess." Max growls letting his fingers sink deeper, rubbing against his soft velvety walls and finds the little bundle of nerves. "Fuck Max." George moans, Max rubs against it hard, the Brit is shaking and struggling to keep control of himself.  "You would come just like this if I let you." Max lets his fingers slip out. George cries out in relief. "I'd rather come from your cock."

"Maybe I won't let you come at all." Max kneels down behind George and bumps the head of his cock against George's lube slick hole and slowly sinks inside about half way, lulling George into a false sense of security then slamming home in one swift move, causing the both of them to cry out in pleasure.

"How are you so tight George, how many people have you let fuck you?" Max pushes his fingers into George's hair and pulls his head up. George whines and pushes his hips back trying to fuck himself on Max's cock. "Tell me and i'll fuck you George." Max squeezes Georges hips to keep him still. "A fair few." George whines in frustration. "Max please."

Max pulls nearly all the way out and slams back into him with one swift move. George cries out, finally getting some pleasure as Max repeats the motion three more times before settling into a rough, harsh pace.

George fists a handful of the bed sheets as Max pounds into him, he's been with quite a few people but no one else has quite taken him so roughly and Lewis' doesn't exactly take easy, however he's loving every second of this.

"Can't believe how much of a slut you are." Georges moans as Max finally finds his prostate and starts to slam into with every one of his thrusts. George's poor neglected cock is red and leaking, he reaches down to stroke himself off to Max's thrust, only to have his hand slapped away. "You don't get to come until I tell you to, princess." George's head is swimming with the constant slamming into his prostate, he's so close yet so far away.  

"Max please!" Max slips one of his hands into George's hair and smacks his ass with other one. "No, stop begging." George whines pathetically with another hard thrust into his prostate. "I need to come, please Max." Max slams into him extra hard. "I said no."  

Max speeds up his thrusts so his balls are slapping against George's ass cheeks, he's whining and moaning with every thrust, just begging to come. Max just ignores him and continues to brutally slam into him. Max keeps slamming into his prostate, just enough until he's about to come then abruptly stops again. George is a withering crying mess when Max finally takes pity on him.

"Do you need to come princess?" George nods, he's way too far gone and frustrated for words. "Anything for Princess George." Max finally wraps a hand around George's neglected cock and strokes him to the same pace as his thrusts, pulling happy pleasured moans from George's lips. Finally fucking finally George gets the feeling in his stomach and he's about to come when Max squeezes his fist around the base of his cock and stops his orgasm.   

"Max please." George is almost in tears from the sheer need to come. Max giggles in response and speeds up his thrusts once again until he's fucking George with all his might, hitting his prostate over and over again but still never letting loose of the grip on his cock.  "Max please."

Max releases the grip on his cock and starts stroking him again. "Come for me princess." and George does, he comes harder than he has in his entire life shooting his load over the bed sheets in front of him. Max himself isn't fair behind, he manages three more shaky thrusts before spilling his load inside of George.

George rolls over onto his back while Max disappears into the bathroom and returns with a damp cloth, he goes to wipe at the mess on George's stomach only to have his hand pushed away. "I'm fine Max, I don't need after care."

"Are you okay though? Did I hurt you? was it too much?" Max is very aware of his rambling, the strong confident roll he was playing has quickly morphed into shyness and fear.  George takes the rag and washes his own stomach.

"No, it's fine. I'm not used to this, people fuck me and then they leave." Max takes a risky move and wraps his arm around George's shoulder, who surprisingly doesn't pull away from him. "Why do you do this George?"

"When i'm mad and frustrated I like giving up control." George smiles. "I really enjoyed myself tonight" Max can't help but smile back. "I really enjoyed myself too, I like being in control."

"You nearly killed me mate." George settles back into the pillows on the bed, still smiling. "I knew just what my princess needed."

"Fuck off Max."   

#max verstappen #george russell #formula 1 fanfiction #fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #mxm #fanfiction #formula 1 #formula one #mxm smut #Max x George #Princess George

[heich0e]

I very much want to hear about the insane thrift haul!

omg OK so for context i love thrifting but i own wayyyy too many clothes so i have been good lately and have NOT been thrifting. however!!! the weekend before last i ruined my fav jeans (not thrifted) and rly needed to replace them because i wore them constantlyyyyy. so i went to my fav thrift store (which i frequent so often i know the staff by name L M A O) and my expectations were honestly low—

because these were like the PERFECT jeans. ankle length, baggy, high waist, ACTUAL denim w no stretch, in a nice light wash. they were expensive when i bought them—but they lasted me FOREVER and i wore the HELL out of them—and i knew i could get another pair but thought i'd tryyyy to find them thrifted just on the off chance.

i like to thrift jeans in the men's section as they are often better quality, actual denim, and vintage, plus they're usually priced more reasonably than women's clothes. and as soon as i stepped up to the rack i found basically. an EXACT REPLICA. of my favourite jeans. EXCEPT!!! THEY ARE ACTUAL VINTAGE!! in perfect condition. the thrift store doesn't have fitting rooms so i had to take a gamble on them but when i got them home and tried them on they were a PERFECT fit too. they're probably from the 80s/early 90s based on the brand and tag and i swear to god they fit like they were MADE for me. and i paid less than the price of a 6-inch subway sandwich for em.

i was riding a real high after finding these, so then i braved the women's section where i found:

a GORGEOUS midi dress. it's not vintage but it's from a nice brand WITH THE ORIGINAL TAGS STILL ON IT?? it has with short sleeves, a tie-belted waist, a pleated skirt, and it's a light cornflower blue with a pretty floral pattern!!

THEN!! i found an absolutely unreallllllll vintage, faux-suede-ish 2-piece co-ord set in a rly rly nice camel-y toffee colour. it has a pair of high waist, wide leg trousers + a button-down overshirt kind of top (it also had shoulder pads and beading all along the collar and pockets of the shirt, but i have since removed those lmaooooo.) it is a little bit yee haw but i'm SOOOOOOOO into it and it fits me PERFECTLY.

then i was getting rly bold so i was like ok lets check the ladies pants section just to see what's up. i found a nice (non-vintage) ecru coloured pair of jeans: high waist, wide leg, good quality denim. they didn't look worn at all. i didn't quite recognize the brand enough to say whether or not they were actually ""good"" but i was like fuck it we ball and got them too. i get them home, look up the brand. these jeans... are basically brand new..... still available on the manufacturer's website........ for $118 United States of American dollars.

i also got a little wicker basket for my board games if that is of interest to u... but that one is not as exciting hehe.

END OF THRIFT HAUL if u made it this far i LOVE U

#liv got mail

[mysticboombox]

okay so i has nother request

so raph has this big bad persona right….but when he meets his s/o through saving them or something he kinds drops it…..without realising

Bad Boy Bad Girl

Pairing: Raphael x Tomboy! Reader

Point of View: Third Person

Warning(s): Swearing, absolute fluff and blushy Raph

Word Count: 1213

Summary: Is it possible for a bad boy to drop his persona?

Author’s Note: Ugh, I’ve been waiting to release this since I received the request over a year ago and I was able to write most of this during the holidays. I decided to make the reader a bit goth, however you have the option to have colored highlights if you wanted to color their hair. Also, (f/b) means favorite band, since not everyone likes heavy metal. I hope I got the big guy's language down as well. Enjoy Raphie lovers!!!

Raph and his brothers ran across the rooftops like any other night. Their patrol had been cut short when neither party had a lot of crime activity, so Leo commanded everyone to return to the lair for the night.

Raph was running along his route back to the lair when someone screamed, “Back the fuck away from me!” This grabbed Raphael’s attention, quickly running in the direction of the scream and he found where the source of the voice was coming from. When he looked down, he gritted his teeth. A robber was quickly approaching a petite female who looked defenseless. 

“Hey bub!” Raph leaped from the rooftop, landed behind the robber, and smirked when he witnessed the robber's expression. “Why don’t cha pick on somebody yer own si-“

Raphael was cut short when he heard a bang and watched the robber go down. He looked up to the female, who now brandished a metal pipe, with a “try me” look on her face. Now with Raph up close, he could see the female in better detail. 

All he could think was how beautiful the woman looked and how he was fairly impressed with her swing. She wore a (f/b) shirt with black skinny jeans and studded boots. Raph could see the huge lashes and the black lipstick she wore, and saw some (f/c) highlights in their hair. One thing Raph liked was the woman didn’t seem phased by his appearance, which was a bonus on his end. Only she looked pissed and raised the pipe higher above her head.

“So, what are you exactly? And if you try anything weird I’ll whoop your ass!” She glared at him, challenging him to approach her. Raph snorted, mainly for how cute she looked and two, knowing he could easily grab the pipe with little to no effort. 

He smirked and tilted his head, “Sweetheart, I hate ta burst ya bubble, but I’m a mutant ninja turtle, have been my whole life, and-” he pointed to the pipe the female was holding, “-that pipe ain’t gonna do shit against me. However,-“ he nods in her direction, “-I’ll admit I’m impressed with dat swing of yours. Where’d ya get it from?”

The female snorted in response before leaning back on the pipe she used a few moments ago. “Softball in high school, best hitter on the team, and I’m responsible for giving my team a few first base moments as well.” She smirked and looked Raphael up and down. She’s dated a few muscular men in the past but DAMN, none of them could top this guy.  

As she watched him, Raphael grew a little uncomfortable under her gaze, thinking she thought him disgusting. Just like all the other humans he’s rescued. He plastered a frown on his face, slightly glaring at the woman. 

“Look shawty, I can walk you home, but imma need ya to keep my existence a secret got it? Got too many enemies that would love to use anyone that knows about me. Understood?” He watched as the female straightened up and threw the pipe behind her without looking back. She crossed her arms before leaning her weight onto one hip.

“Alright big guy, I’ll keep your existence a secret. On one condition though.” She bent forward, looking up at him, eyes squinted and her mouth quirked in a smirk again. Raphael wasn’t sure what to do with the attitude change, so all he could do was ask, “What?”

She smiled, quickly straightened into a sassy pose and pointed at him, “you gotta tell me how you got that bod because god DAMN, you are smokin’, and I mean it too.” 

Poor Raph lost his composure and started sputtering, not quite sure how much of the compliment was genuine. After a few minutes he eventually grumbled, causing the female to giggle a little. She enjoyed seeing how quickly she was able to fluster the red banded ninja. Raphael eventually tied up the robber and informed the police of the situation before he turned to the female, who still hasn’t given him a name.

“Well, I guess before I take ya home, I bettah ask, what’s yer name?” He watched as she smiled, holding her hand out for a handshake. “(Y/N), and what’s yours big guy?” He glanced at her face then her hand for a few moments before chuckling, gently taking her hand in his and shook it, “Raphael, and before ya say anythin’, yes, aftah the Renaissance artist.”

She laughed, causing Raphael’s heart to flutter just a little. He opened his arms, earning him a quizzical look from (Y/N). 

“It’s fastah if I carry ya, and I can’t exactly walk in the streets ya know.” (Y/N) nodded before walking up to him, Raphael gently picked her up in a bridal pose. She wrapped her arms around his neck when he said, “Hang on.”

He leapt onto a nearby fire escape and landed on the rooftop, (Y/N) looked at him in mild shock. Raphael chuckled before asking where she lived. She gave him her address and he ran in the direction her apartment was located. 

When they arrived at the apartment, Raph gently placed her on her balcony, before moving to unlock the sliding door. It only took a few seconds before (Y/N) saw her sliding doors open, Raphael turned in her direction before he motioned her in. 

(Y/N) shook her head and walked inside before she turned around to look at him. 

“Can we exchange numbers? For emergency purposes?” 

“Ughhh…” Raph looked around, not sure what to do. He’d never been asked for his number. He thought about the request a little longer before he finally gave in.

“For emergency purposes only, got it?” A brow raised in her direction.

(Y/N) nodded before they quickly ran into the kitchen to grab a piece of paper and pencil before scribbling their number onto it. They walked up to Raph, tearing the piece of paper with their number on it and handed it to him. 

“Emergency purposes only, just like you said.” She smiled, making Raph feel butterflies. He swallowed before quickly scribbling his number and handing it to her. 

“I ugh, I better get goin’.” Raph shuffled on his feet, not looking at her. (Y/N) could tell he wasn’t used to socializing, probably not used to being in strangers' apartments either. She kept the goodbye as short as they could manage.

“Well, thank you for rescuing me back there Red. You take care now ok?” 

Raphael looked down at her and nodded before turning to walk to the balcony. Before he could jump up the fire escape, he gave her one last look and a wink before he leaped.

He ran back to the lair, and when he returned home, his brothers swarmed him. Teasing him about his “girlfriend” and how they overheard the entire conversation over the radio. Raph was annoyed with himself for not remembering to turn off the radio. Once everyone settled down and went to bed, Raph washed up before heading to his room for the night. When he laid down and thought about the events that had occurred, he couldn’t help but smile as he fell asleep.

Tags: @turtle-babe83 @raphsgrl @raphaelsrightarm @raphsweapondealer @raphsgrl @raphslovemuffin80 @fluffytriceratops @ladyofparchments @kawaiibunga @waterstar2016 @tmntspidergirl @pheradream15 @jaenisamusculargurl @sketch-and-write-lover @digitl-art-monstr @luna-neko-hamato @scholastic-dragon @turtlesmakemehappy @sewerninno @chicchanmooshy @angelicdavinci @fyreball66 and anyone else that's interested!

#tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt 2014 #tmnt 2016 #tmnt raphael #tmnt raph #raphael #raph #big bara #big guy #Red #Raphie #mysticboombox

[cherrycola27]

HUNG UP

Chapter 3

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x OC Adaline Carson

Warnings: Language, drinking, allusion to Smut. Hangman being Hangman. Minors DNI 18+

"Rooster get OFF of me!" Ada yelled as she attempted to push the larger man off of her. "Jesus Christ you are so heavy!" She heaved trying to escape the unwanted cuddle from her friend.

Rooster sighed and rolled over. "Well this could have easily been avoided if you didn't have the world's most uncomfortable couch." He laughed getting up from her bed. "I have fallen asleep on that couch plenty of times with no issues sir!" Adaline shot back. "Yes but you are five and a half feet tall! I'm sorry all six feet and two inches of me couldn't easily fit on your couch like you can." Rooster responded.

It was true she wasn't the tallest person she had to look up to everyone on the Dagger Squad but her height didn't keep her from being a bad ass and at least when she did tell people that Rooster had stayed the night with her and cuddled that wouldn't be a lie. She had to admit it was nice having someone keep her warm last night. Her bed had been significantly colder in the previous nights ever since Jake had stopped sleeping over.

Adaline grabbed her clothes and went into her bathroom to change. She slid on her favorite teal bikini and a cute tank top and cut off jean shorts she tossed her hair in a messy bun and packed a bag for the beach. She decided to forgo makeup for the day considering she would just sweat it off, so she settled for a swipe of her favorite lip gloss across her lips. Once she exited the bathroom Rooster emerged from down the hall in a fresh tank top and swim trunks. He completed the look with his classic aviators and ridiculous Hawiian shirt.

"Ready to roll sweetheart?" He asked. Ada cringed at the pet name. "Sure am... honey... let's get this fake dating scam going" she replied pushing past him to head down stairs.

The day had gone well. Since Ada and Rooster were friends they had a good time together they ate, went to the beach, swam, and watched the sunset just like she planned. They even took some cute pictures that she put on Instagram. She hoped Jake would see them considering he followed her, and even if he didn't she was sure someone else from the team would show him.

Rooster spent the night again and this time when he went to cuddle her, Adaline didn't put up a fight. However she was completely shocked when Rooster sealed his lips along the spot where her neck met her shoulder. "Bradley what the Fuck? I told you no funny business!" She yelled pushing him away. "Ada chill... its all part of the plan remember... I'm getting fake laid tonight before I get to show you off tomorrow. I'm just leaving a little evidence. You won't be able to see it in uniform, but it will be visible in one of those pretty little sundresses you love to wear." He told her.

"How many people have you fake dated Bradshaw? You're like really good at this." Adaline laughed before turning over to sleep.

"I can't fucking believe it!" Jake exclaimed sitting in his truck. It was just after 11pm and and for the second night in a row when he had gone by her house, Roosters Bronco graced the spot in Adaline's driveway that used to be reserved for his Silverado. "This cannot be happening. How could she have moved on so fast?" He thought to himself. Which they hadn't been dating in the first place and if they weren't together they technically couldn't break up. So technically Ada wasn't doing anything wrong he told himself. But it was Rooster of all people for her to go running to... Rooster?!

She could have picked Fanboy, Coyote, Payback, hell she even could have picked Bob and he probably wouldn't have batted an eye... but Rooster? Sure he and Bradshaw were friends.. kind of... but Bradley knew how Jake felt about Adaline Casron yet he was more than happy to get in her pants the moment Jake was out of the picture. "Damn you Rooster." He cursed under his breath and drove away.

The Hard Deck was packed on Sunday night. Adaline held her breath as she and Rooster walked in hand in hand. She looked good. She was wearing a baby pink sundress covered in red roses. She matched her lipstick to the shade of the flowers on her dress. Her hair was curled and pulled back from her face and the love bite Rooster had given her was on full display next to the barely there straps of her dress.

The couple greeted theit friends warmly before Phoenix began interrogating them about their blooming relationship. After she was satisfied with the fake backstory the pair gave Rooster lead Ada to the bar.

"Penny! Get this little lady whatever she wants on my tab!" He called before he turned to rejoin the team for a game of pool. Penny gave Ada a sly grin. "You and Rooster uh? I always thought you and Hangman had something going on?" Penny prodded as she set a tequila shot and a dirty Shirley infront of Ada. "What can I say P? Rooster knows what he wants unlike some people!" Adaline shouted of the crowd. She quickly down the shot and chased it with her mixed drink. Once both glasses were empty Penny handed her another Shirley and a beer for Rooster. Ada happily walked over to the rest of the group.

Hangman had debated even going out tonight but he needed a stiff drink and an easy girl tonight because his hand just wasn't doing the trick. Hopefully he could avoid Ada and her new 'boyfriend' but much to his chagrin as soon as he walked in, he spotted them dancing. He almost turned on his heels until a pretty brunette walked up to him and started to flirt. She wasn't nearly as pretty as Ada, but she would do for the night.

As the evening drug on Hangman hardly paid attention to the brunette... her name was Taylor or was is Tonya... he couldn't remember and he really didn't care. After an hour of talking the brunette snapped her fingers in his face. "Listen Jake, I don't know what you're focused on but it's obviously not me have a goodnight dude." She said before hopping off the bar stool. Poor girl it wasn't her fault that he couldn't take his eyes of of Adaline and Rooster. He hated seening them happy together. "That should be me" he thought.

The sound of the bar groaning and the juke box cutting off snapped Hangman back to reality once again. Soon he heard Rooster grace the piano with the opening of "Great Balls of Fire" and to make matters worse, Ada was on his lap with his sunglasses on her head! Jake clenched his fists and slammed his beer on the bar. He tore through the crowd to head to the bathroom to puke... the sight of Rooster and Ada made him sick.

When Jake exited the washroom Rooster was no longer at the piano and he and Adaline where no where in sight. He scanned the room just in time to see his favorite pink dress slip out the back door.

"No fucking way." He growled. There was no way Jake was about to stay in this bar while Rooster was fucking Adaline out back. He could pretend that the times he had seen them at her house that nothing was going on, but slipping out back this early in the night... even Hangman couldn't make up a excuse for that.

Jake pushed through the crowd, not bothering to say a word as he ran into people. He was breathing heavy, his jaw was tight, he was on a mission. He pushed his way outside and that's when he heard it.

"Oh right there baby!" The familiar moan that he had once coaxed from Adaline was now being draw out of her by someone else. "Oh baby... you have any idea what this dress was doing to me in there? Wanted to take you right on that piano bench in front of everyone. You're such a bad girl, wearing this dress and no panties... just couldn't wait till we got home could you?" Rooster asked.

Hangman couldn't see them because they were being a storage shed but he knew what was going on. He balled his hands up into fists and charged around to corner ready to rip Roosters head off.

He rounded the corner and was stunned at the sight before him there as Adaline... his Adaline with her legs wrapped around Rooster while he assaulted her neck. Her eyes were closed but snapped open when she heard the disturbance.

"Jake what the hell are you doing out here?" She screamed at him both out of anger and fear. Rooster set Adaline down. Before he could say anything to his fellow pilot, Jake jerked him away from Ada and back handed him across the face. "What the FUCK Bradshaw?" He screamed. "How could you. You could fuck any other girl out her but you have to sleep with MY GIRL? Jake strained his voice already becoming hoarse. "That is so messed up man. Do you even care about her, or are you just using her to get back at me you son of a bitch?" Jake grabbed Rooster by the collar of his stupid Hawiian shirt.

He was just about to break Roosters nose when Ada called out. "Jacob stop!" Hangman froze at the use of his whole first name. He glanced over at Ada. She was visibly upset with tears in her eyes. "You have no right to do this! You aren't my boyfriend... hell you never were! I'm not your girl Jake, we were fucking that's all because you didn't want more. It's not my fault that Rooster knows what he wants and isn't afraid to go after it. So could you please let my boyfriend go and get your ass out of here!" Ada yelled at him.

Jake looked between Adaline and Rooster. He wasn't sure what had come over him. He let Rooster go and mumbled a "Sorry." As he headed to his car.

Hangman climbed into his truck and drove away.

He needed to be somewhere where he could be alone. He pulled into the abandoned beach parking lot, and for the first time in his like Jacob Thomas Seresin did something he swore he would never do because of a woman... he cried.

Tag List: @shanimallina87 @marvelsvalhalla

#top gun #top gun maverick #hangman x oc #hangman smut #hangman top gun #hangman seresin #jake seresin x oc #jake seresin #jake seresin smut

[danielle-dna]

To Date or Not to Date - 6

Staring at my phone, I kept pondering the same question: should I call him? It has been a few days since the shag of my life and I found myself very intrigued by the handsome man. How is it humanly possible that I am this attracted to a man whose face I haven't even seen?

Fuck, it. Beeeep. Beeeeep. "Ello?" Shit, now what? I stood frozen for a few seconds, before the second hello, laced with that Manchester accent threw me out of my trance. "Hi. Hello. Good morning." Nice one, dumbass.

"Who is this?" Oh damn it to hell. "Well I don't know, Simon, how many nurses have you slept with in the last few days?" Silence. And then a light chuckle. "Good morning to you too, love." He remembered me. "So, what are you up to, ghostie?" I playfully asked.

"Ghostie? Where did you pulled that 'one out of?" His voice was full of curiosity. "What can I say, you are like a friendly ghost. Very friendly." I heard an amused grunt on the other side of the line. "So, you busy today, Simon?"

After a short pause, we made plans. I will meet him at his apartment. I didn't think if it would be safe for me to tell him where exactly I live, so his flat was the next best thing. I mean, I shagged the man. Surely it would be safe, right?

Every once in a while, a woman utters the impossible sentence: I have nothing to wear. Despite having a wardrobe bursting with clothes. I had a slightly different problem, as I did not hoard clothes, however I had almost no sexy clothing to wear. So I settled for a nice pair of light jeans that hugged my hips nicely, a tight white t-shirt with a small Metallica logo, white platform heels and gold hoop earrings.

Growing up, I was always told that boys like "natural girls". I was never one to care. Outside of work (I can't be bothered at 6am) I cake my face in all kinds of makeup looks. Glancing at my makeup collection, I decided for a classic 90s glam look. If he doesn't like me with makeup, it's his loss.

After twirling in front of the mirror, I decided that there is no way back. I headed out the door and walked to the nearest bus stop. Is this a good idea? You don't even know him. My heart was beating against my ribcage. And it went Simon, Simon, Simon.

When I exited the bus, I was pleasantly surprised that his flat was in quite nice part of the city. Being a little unfamiliar with the streets, I looked around and started walking where all the big buildings were. Soon I found it.

23, 24, ....25! I rang the number 25 and waited for the answer. What do I even say? Hi, it's the two night stand? "Yeah?" I could recognise the rough voice anywhere. "Hey...its me."

Bzzzzzzt.

The door opened and I entered the lobby. It looked clean, tidy and overall quite expensive. I could only imagine what his flat looked like. The building even had elevators. Thankfully, it was labelled which flats are on which floor.

25. This was the number on the door. I was standing in front of it for a minute. What if he is a serial killer? What if he deals with human trafficking. What if he is a finance bro? What if he wears Crocs?

Finally I was about to knock when I heard a loud "Bloody fucking hell!"

#call of duty mw2 #cod mw2 #ghost mw2 #simon ghost riley

[bluest-planet]

Fuck it this is gonna be a fashion blog too because im OBSESSED.

I've had this idea on the back burner of my brain for a while now and drawing my magican/ouji inspired Klarion designs have really itched the spot in my brain enough for me to talk fashion more. Hope y'all dont mind me posting in the Klarion tag for this- I promise smth will come outta it. Long story short tho- I really, really want to make a Klarion themed coat with red (possibly blue and gold? Mostly black and red palette) embroidery and diamond patterning.

If u wanna read more about it (and me being a bit sappy) click for more!

Okay! If you've clicked to read this! Than many kudos to you for listening to crazed Blue's ramblings about fashion when ive only just made a pair of barely recognize mock-up pants like,,, yesterday and I'm still feeling proud of myself for it.

Quick rundown- I'm super into fashion, specifically Ouji fashion, sustainability, traditional latine/mexican embroidery/textile work, and occasionally street fashion. I have a sewing machine, ive patched up more than enough ripped pants, hemmed pants/shirts, and patches in my life. Small things really.

But recently, I've always had the idea of making very personalized/one of a kind type of jackets. I've done this to my own jean jackets to embroider stars, add decorative paneling and the like! Love it. My latest passion project though and important thing here is my 'Robin' themed jacket.

I took a white jean jacket from the thrift store, dyed it green, bought tones of sequins and shiny fabric to add to it. I'm currently in the painstaking process of sewing in one sequin at a time along my cuffs. Then I gotta embroider the R on the chest with gold n black thread. After that I'm gonna add red/gold/green diamond (or checkered, havent decided? Checks are easier but is it circus-y enough?) Along the back pannel. I might also embroider some stars, stripes, or wings as finishing touches. This has honestly kinda cost me lol, which is why ive been working on for almost a year now but just started w the bedazzlement. If I was gonna sell it (never im in love w it already but if i was) it be well over 100$ for the amount of love and labour ive put into it (my fingers have been pricked so many times lol.)

HOWEVER,,, I'm so in love with this process and I am just DYING to do this again. And all this fashion art for me just makes me love my hobbies so much. So, if I get the chance id love to try my hand at a Klarion inspired long coat next. More dramatic with flare!! An old coat, either black or smth I will dye black. If I go my Klarion magician/ouji designs Id love to do similar diamond patterning on panels or double lined on the inside, with celestial embroidery and new buttons. If i go with more yj themed Klarion- I WOULD LOVE to do long sleeves with red inner lining or cuffs to do smth nice and sleek but regal.

Of course, I'd have to buy all this and massively improve my sewing skills beyond minor application to actual fabrication. But im deadset on making a Klarion themed jacket next. I'll also be posting about the progress on my Robin Jacket soon too!! This was all an excuse to really just talk and hype myself up bc I feel like a quiet textile nerd stitching alone in my quiet little corner. Also bc, i may not be the best artist, but drawing Klarion a lot recently has really helped invigorate me to get outta depressive art funk and be excited about creating again- even if hes just my fashion model at this point to me, lol.

If you've read this far- wow, thank you! I'm very impressed w all the hardwork and earnestness of all the creators and enjoyers in the Klarion tag! I'd never thought a character tag for some niche DC Tumblrsexyman witchboy would make me so happy to engage with from time to time. The few comments ive gotten for my Klarion art has been to uplifting and encouraging to keep doing what I love. Stay cool out there! Thanks for reading this- uh? Blurb?? Means a lot.

#klarion #klarion the witch boy #Interstellar Fashion Runway #<- new fashion tag maybe #blue speaks #blue thinks

[miekasa]

slow hands

+ pairing: levi ackerman x reader

+ genre and warnings: fluff, some angst? but hardly, levi is the sweetest, please do not mistake his quiet affections for apathy or lovelessness

+ word count: 3k

+ summary: based off of a request about physical affection and acts of service being levi’s love languages—which i agree! i’m so happy you asking about that, i could write essays about how physical touch is important to levi, but instead, i will leave you with this for now lol

i. in crowded spaces (so you don’t get lost, or so he claims)

Levi isn’t particularly fond of the way you like to go shopping in the inner walls. He is, however, fond of you; so he forgoes the prissy upper-class men and overall stingy aura of Wall Sina’s inhabitants just so you can get your favorite kind of bread and fruit.

Today, it seems like everyone and their mother wanted to visit the outdoor markets, despite the scheming merchants and obviously overpriced merchandise. From the crowd to the noise level, none of it is really up Levi’s alley; but he has to admit, watching people fail to successful haggle the price of eggs is immensely amusing to him.

What isn’t amusing is the way you keep stopping in the middle of the square, distracted by anything remotely shiny or with a pleasant smell you come across. Levi stops in his tracks, sensing a lack of your presence behind him; he turns around, and sure enough, you’re standing a few meters away, squinting at the price written above the basket of apples in front of you.

He sighs, trudging back to you, and watching from a step away as you scan over the fruit scrutinizingly. The merchant behind the stand does his best at selling you his product, boasting about how the fruit is fresh and hand-picked, and some other bullshit.

“These look good,” you muse to yourself, picking up a single, red apple in your palm for closer observation, “I could make a pie for the kids later.”

“Ah, pretty and she cooks, what a woman,” the bearded merchant smiles, adjusting his hat as he looks at you.

He only seems to notice Levi’s presence when he pushes forward just a little bit, looking at the apples, bored, then to the man, who speaks to him next, “Can I interest you in a basket, too, sir?”

Levi doesn’t respond with anything but a slight shake of his head, before looking back to you. You’re standing upright now, having placed your sample apple back with the rest, unfazed by Levi standing next to you; like you were completely unaware you’d left him in the first place.

He holds back a scoff. You can be so unaware of your surroundings at times, he honestly thinks it’s a miracle that you make it back from your missions alive. You’re also seemingly unaware of just how many inner wall pigs flirt with you, as you look completely oblivious to the advances of the merchant, who offers you two baskets for the price of one—the only caveat being that you allow him to take you on a date later that evening.

Levi lolls his head to the side, tired eyes gazing at the old man who tries to cut himself a bargain. He knows you’re prepared to give an overly polite and nonchalant response to wave the man off, but Levi doesn’t have time for your pleasantries today. 

Quietly, he reaches for your free hand, lacing your fingers together firmly before pulling you away from the merchant and the stand.

“Levi!” you call for him, borderline whining, “I wasn’t actually going to agree to a date with him, but the apples—”

“There’s a stand a few streets over that Hange claims is better than anything she’s ever eaten,” Levi grumbles, questioning under his breath about where the hell the piece of shit men in the interior get their audacity from, “And you don’t need two baskets. One is enough.”

Levi doesn’t turn your way, so he misses the fond look in your eyes and the small curve to your lips. He does, however, feel the way you wrap your other arm around his, leaning into him gently as to not disturb your stride as you keep walking.

“But I want to have enough to make a pie for the kids, later,” you tell him, slowly rubbing your thumb against the fabric of his blazer.

Levi scoffs audibly this time. “You don’t have to make shit for them.”

“I don’t have to do shit for anyone,” you smile, “But they’re just kids, Levi. Besides, I know you like pie, too, you big baby.”

Levi doesn’t say anything at that, only choosing to flash you an unamused scowl, before pulling you down a smaller, less crowded street.

“Let’s just get the fucking apples and go home,” he says, decidedly, passing by a group of MPs sharing a flask, “I don’t know how much longer I can stay in the interior without snapping some pig’s head off.”

ii. during long meetings

Levi thinks that if Erwin weren’t Commander, he could probably make a living as a pastor with the way he preaches for hours on end.

It’s going on hour two of this long, drawn-out strategy meeting, and Levi knows that he’s not the only one about to lose his fucking marbles. Albeit, he’s much more composed than some other people around the table; he still wants to retire to his office for the evening. Even the mountain of paperwork waiting for him would be more entertaining than this.

Levi listens, admittedly a little more carefully, when you speak up, offering information about the layouts of a small town destroyed on your last expedition, where you’d lost a member of your own squad. Erwin nods, looking back down at his map to take your words into consideration.

Levi looks to his right where you’re seated, notices the guilt flash in your eyes as you think about your last failed expedition. It wasn’t your fault, and you know that; but he knows, more than anyone, how difficult it can be to lose one of your own soldiers.

Quietly, he lifts his teacup with his right hand, and places it down in front of you. He says nothing beyond an almost unnoticeable nod towards the cup once it’s within your reach, before looking back towards Erwin and Armin.

If anyone else seemed to notice his gesture, they don’t make it known. Except for Hange, of course, who flashes him a knowing grin before resuming her conversation.

Levi knows you’ve finished the tea when he feels your hand resting lightly atop his knee, tapping your index and middle fingers against his pants—a silent thank you. In the middle of his own conversation, he doesn’t turn to you or say much other than slipping his right hand on top of yours, loosely curling his fingers between the slits of yours.

His hand stays there for the rest of the meeting, his thumb rubbing slow, unidentifiable patterns into the skin on the back of your hand; an empty teacup, and a mutual gratitude between the two of you.

iii. when you’re working too hard (or for too long)

If not the gigantic humanoid monsters out to swallow you whole, the paperwork is probably the worst part about being a captain in the Survey Corps. Levi would know, having spent countless nights up reading proposals, approving plans, signing documents, filling out death certificates.

It can be grueling work, even if it is, essentially, reading and writing whilst being sat at a desk. And while, sometimes, he can admit that the paperwork is more bearable than his own nightmares; he knows that for you, it holds no such solace.

If anyone thought that Levi worked himself to the bone, they must not have met you. Your meticulous mannerisms and work ethic could almost make him seem sloppy by comparison. It’s not uncommon to find you training yourself or your cadets into the ground, theorizing with Hange and Erwin, or—Levi’s personal least favorite—hunched over your desk, eyes scanning away at stacks of ink-ridden papers.

You must be five or six hours in by now, if he’s calculated correctly. The last time he saw you was around midday, when he’d been watching you spar with Jean. It’s dark out now, the other cadets and soldiers having retired to their rooms for the evening after dinner. 

“You’ll end up a hunchback if you keep this up,” he drawls upon entering your office. He watches as your head snaps up to him; he figured you hadn’t even heard him enter, seeing as you didn’t respond to his knocking. He wonders how it’s possible for you to be so aloof, yet so scrupulous all at once.

Embarrassed, more likely at your lack of awareness than his comment, you push yourself up a little bit, elbows on your desk and fingers crossed. “You’re not exactly one to talk, you know.”

Levi only hums at your jab, inching towards your desk. He likes the way your eyes track his movements as his proximity to you increases, stepping around your desk to stand behind your chair. 

“Sit up,” he orders, voice soft yet firm.

He waits for you to straighten your back, but frowns when you scoot your chair closer to your desk after doing so. He takes it upon himself to move your chair back, ignoring the terrible squeaking of the wood scraping across the floor. Well, at least that was an indication that the floors were clean.

“I can’t write if I’m this far from my desk,” you complain, just as the palms of Levi’s hands make contact with your shoulders.

“Good thing I’m not asking you to write anything,” Levi replies, digging the heels of his hands into your shoulder muscles. This would work better with your shirt off, he muses to himself, but this would have to do.

You open your mouth to protest, but your words fall short on your tongue, an exhale of relief coming out instead as Levi continues to massage your shoulders. Levi can feel you melting into his actions, your body going slack and the knots in your muscles uncoiling themselves. He counts about five minutes in passing before he hears your breath calm, too; the shallow exhales of your overworked body replaced with deep inhalations and extended sighs.

He lightens his movements as his massage comes to and end. The palm of his left hand runs across your throat gently, allowing him to tuck his thumb and index finger under your chin, and tilt your head backwards for you to face him. Levi’s thumb pads against your jaw line as you look up at him, and him back at you. 

Finally, he leans down, his lips making contact with your forehead for a gentle kiss, “You work too hard.”

“I learned from the best,” and just as gently, you reach your arm up and backwards, your palm clumsily finding its way to Levi’s hair, pulling him down, towards your lips this time, “You take such good care of me.”

“Obviously,” Levi mumbles, stealing another kiss between his words, “That’s my job, brat.”

iv. during dinner time

The Mess Hall is among Levi’s least favorite places, for obvious reasons; but he does enjoy sharing a meal with you, and ensuring that you’ve eaten a full serving to sustain yourself.

He can look past Hange and Nanaba’s overly enthusiastic conversations, despite sitting directly across each other, Erwin’s sloppy eating habits, and the overall rowdy atmosphere of the Mess Hall, as long as he has you beside him to numb the pain. Which is why he’s been exceptionally grumpy these past two weeks, as you’ve taken to sitting with some of the younger cadets during dinner time. 

It’s not unusual and it doesn’t surprise him, or anyone really; everyone can see how much they all adore you. Especially Mikasa, strangely enough. Probably because of the way you treat Eren, and how much he and Armin look up to you; and probably because she was your first pick to fill a vacancy in your squad. 

He walks with you across the floor, the both of you holding your own tray of food—a watery soup, some bread, and a piece of fruit as a treat. He knows you won’t finish your soup, and that he’ll have to give you half of his bread to make up for it; but he also knows you’ll slice up your apple for him to eat in exchange.

So Levi is not too happy when he sees Eren waving your way, the clumsy idiot almost hitting Armin in the head from the uncoordinated shaking of his hand. You smile at the younger boy, turning your body to walk towards his table.

Levi, however, stops your stride before it can begin, pulling tactfully at the back of your shirt, and forcing you to turn back around. He pokes at the nape of your neck, gently pushing you forwards, and in the direction of the table where Erwin, Hange, Mike and Moblit are seated.

You seem to get his silent message, flashing Levi a sweet smile before turning to offer Eren a sorry glance as you continue to head in the direction of the table with your colleagues. Levi hums when you start walking again, following closely behind you, and turning back to offer Eren a not-so-sorry, not-so-friendly glare.

Levi was getting his apple sliced for him today, whether the brats liked it or not.

“You know, you should sit with them sometime,” you tell him, breaking his small loaf in half to dip it into your soup, “They admire you a lot.”

“I think they’d shit their pants if shorty even came near their table,” Hange jokes, earning chuckles from some of your colleagues.

Levi says nothing and refrains from rolling his eyes. He could care less about the admiration they hold for him, or for you. If Eren and Amin wanted to spend time with you that badly, then they should train their asses off and make it onto your squad.

“Oi,” you call to him, mocking his voice and tone, “Here, they gave us yellow ones today, I know they’re your favorite.”

Levi shoves you with his elbow affectionately, before taking the slice of apple from your hold. He chews gratefully, heart beating against his chest in admiration as you carefully place the rest of the slices on his tray.

He squeezes your thigh in thanks under the table once you’ve finished slicing both apples for him. Sure, he could do it himself, and sure he could technically see you in your room whenever he wants, but that’s not the point; Levi will be damned if he catches any of those other brats with his apple slices.

v. when you come home

It’s not often that Levi becomes overly worried about your well-being, as backwards and apathetic as it may seem to other people. He trusts you, and knows that you’re stronger than you look—stronger than him, even—and he has no reason to doubt you; you’ve always come back to him.

But now, it’s going on eleven days since your squad was supposed to return from specially designed and assigned mission from Erwin himself, and Levi was beginning to let his nerves get the best of him.

He knows he’s not the only one getting antsy for some kind of message—any kind of sign at all—that you and your men were okay. Two days ago, Hange had pestered Erwin for the greater part of an hour about sending just one more tracking squad to look for yours; Mikasa and Armin hovered around for any news that you had returned, and that you’d brought Eren back unharmed; hell, even Mike had come to check in with him, rocking on his feet, asking Levi if there had been any news from you.

It’s dark out now, the day coming to a close, marking the twelfth night since your estimated return date. Levi sighs, untucking himself from his desk, intent on marching down to Erwin’s office and demanding he let him go look for you.

“You know we have to give it fourteen days, at least,” Erwin sighs.

“That’s a bullshit rule and you know it,” Hange interjects, having burst into the room only seconds after Levi; hung up on your lack of return just as much as he was.

Of course she is—you’re Hange’s closest friend. Not to mention, you’d taken Moblit with you on your mission, setting Hange’s work back significantly without the presence of her valuable second.

“I know,” Erwin nods, “But the first tracking squad found no evidence of any bodies. They’re most likely alive.”

“All of them?” Hange questions, incredulous and hopeful.

“That’s what we hope for,” Erwin responds, voice heavy. He looks to Levi, “She’ll come back. She always does.”

Levi knows that; he knows. But he still can’t shake this feeling. He opens his mouth to refute, when Sasha comes bumbling into Erwin’s office, heaving.

“Commander Erwin, Captain (Y/N)’s squad has just returned!” Sasha squeaks, “No casualties, four in the infirmary now with minor wounds, but nobody’s in critical condition, sir.”

Levi can barely register the young girl’s words, before he’s storming towards the infirmary, desperately searching for your familiar face amongst the soldiers in the cots. He sees Moblit amongst some of your other men and hastily asks him about your whereabouts.

“She had Eren,” Moblit tells him calmly, wincing slightly as a nurse rubs alcohol into the cut along his arm, “I thought she’d take him here—maybe in one of the smaller rooms across the hall?”

Levi nods, grateful, and moves so that Hange can squish Moblit with her affections, heading towards the hallway. He sees just a sliver of light coming from a room two doors down, and he doesn’t hesitate to search for you there.

He all but bursts through the door, relieved to find you tying and cutting a bandage around Eren’s forehead. Levi wants to scold you for taking care of someone else wounds before attending to your own, but he doesn’t have time for that right now.

You stand up straight after you’re finished wrapping Eren’s larger cuts, with barely enough time to register that Levi’s entered the room before he has one hand around your waist, and the other cradling the back of your head.

Levi can feel that he’s knocked the wind out of you, but that doesn’t stop you from slowly wrapping your arms around him to complete the hug. He tucks his head into the juncture of your neck, ignoring the faint scrapes along your skin.

“You’re back,” he hums, holding you a little tighter against him.

Levi feels your laughter reverberate through his own body, as you mirror his hold on you; your right hand coming up to cradle the back of his head, your fingers loosely coiling into his hair.

“Of course I am,” you hum, reveling in Levi’s shallow breaths that tickle your neck, “I’ll always come back to you, Levi.”

#aot x reader #snk x reader #levi x reader #levi x you #levi ackerman x reader #aot fanfiction #snk fanfiction #aot imagines #snk imagines #levi ackerman fluff #levi ackerman smut #eren x reader

[erodasfishtacos]

Curious Gazes

prompt: [CEO!Harry] four times harry has been spotted by employees being very unlike his demeanor at work.

word count: 4.3 k

warnings: harry is an asshole to everyone but is wife and baby.

**** <-- click for visuals throughout the story. ( because i love showing off how dumb rich harry is - i mean he’s a billionaire ffs)

notes: thanks so much for the love on the first part. I will be writing quite a bit for this trope. the next addition will be all smut. love you, enjoy.

PART ONE

----

RESERVATION RUN-IN

Harry has over a hundred-thousand full-time employees. He has nearly ten-thousand at his London office at all times. The skyscraper was beautiful with clear glass, a reflective grey tone, and the structure screamed modern. It has eighty-three floors.

So with that being said, Harry does not know even one third of the people who work in the building nor does he want to. He couldn’t pick them out of a line-up if he tried. 

However, having so many employees in the city means his staff members are bound to catch sight of their boss pretty often outside of the office.

Sarah, Lucielle, Jack, and Anya - all from the customer service department of Styles Media and Marketing Inc. - are all out to dinner. They decided to go all out and dish out a hefty amount to eat at Il Nascondiglio Segreto. It was a reservation they had made nearly a month ago.

As they’re enjoying their appetizer, Lucielle nearly chokes on her oyster, “Holy shit. It’s Harry,” She whispers, nodding her head in the direction she was staring with bulging eyes.

They all can’t help but turn subtly, a perfect vantage point from where they’re sat right across the way from the group of employees. Their boss was dressed in a bit more casual - not by much - attire than he’d worn to the office earlier that Friday afternoon.

He had an open blazer with a white, nearly see-through button up. Their eyes nearly jumping out of their skulls when they spot his butterfly tattoo sitting on right below his sternum. Jack’s hawk eyes catch that he has a name in cursive on his left pec. 

Plus his normal tailored suit trousers were replaced with tight skinny jeans that hugged his crotched - making it unmistakable that he was well….endowed. Hair was no longer as styled and curled. Laying more carelessly on his shoulders. ****

But what was the most absurd thing they saw him wearing was a smile. His lips were curled up in a large, white grin that was big enough to cause little wrinkles around his eyes. 

His hand intertwined with his wife’s until they arrived at their table, pulling out her chair for her, landing a soft kiss on her cheek before sitting down in his across from her.

He automatically puts an open palm halfway across the table and his date places her’s right on top of it. Her large engagement ring and wedding band sparkling in the low lighting in the restaurant. They were holding hands over the table.

The group had never actually seen the women they deemed Cruella Deville. They had envisioned his wife with bleach blonde hair, fake tits, and fish lips complimented with botox that made it so her forehead didn’t move.

But they were met with a beautiful, natural one instead. She had gorgeous curled locks trailing down her back, light neutral makeup with normal sized lips, small creases where they should be. 

Her body was natural as well, breasts pushed up in a bra but obviously not manufactured by the way they sat, a bit of a pouch around her midsection - a telltale sign from her recent pregnancy, and a radiant smile to match her husband’s. 

They looked so happy and in love.

She was dressed short, polka-dotted black dress with a pair of simple black shoes. She complimented with with a bright red lip which stood out against the dark fabric. ***

It’s not that they didn’t look like a match - she was absolutely stunning. It just wasn’t who they imagined for the boss they despised ninety percent of the time.

The group can’t keep their eyes off the couple - subtly, of course - for their whole time at the restaurant.

Harry was laughing loudly - different sound than when he laughed without a humor at bumbling, nervous employees.

It was light and higher pitched - but still gravely low; smooth like honey as his wife matches his laughs.

At one point, after their meal arrives - Harry offers her a spoonful of his food, playfully complaining that she took too big of a bite - but then immediately offering her more right after.

When she excused herself to the bathroom, Lucille catches Harry’s sneaky hand reaching out to give her backside a quick grope which earns him a warning glance that has him snickering.

Anya who was in the restroom nearly runs into her, Y/N apologizes instantly, “I’m sorry! Wasn’t watching where I was going! Are you alright?”

Anya nods, a bit at a loss of words, talking to Harry Styles' wife, “I’m okay, thank you.”

“I swear I have two left feet,” Y/N jokes, complimenting her dress before disappearing into a stalls. A completely lovely girl.

It’s pathetic but the group lingers around to watch their boss’s full dinner date. It was creepy but they were just so stunned at the man that was sitting by them.

The couples behavior had turned more flirty by this point, Y/N’s eyelashes fluttering at little bit more at her husband, her giggles flowing more often with licks to her lips. 

By the clenched fist on the table, Harry seems to be falling prey to the teasing. 

But when his wife whispers something - that must have been filthy - and leans forward so her cleavage is displayed more, Harry’s pulling out his wallet, pulling an absurd amount of bills out and throwing them carelessly on the table.

Y/N’s eyes are twinkling in victory as her husband stands and helps her out of her chair - ever the gentlemen.

It doesn’t seem very gentlemen like though when his hand comes to the very lowest point on the small of her back -  pushing her into him. He leans down to murmur something into her ear before landing a damp, way too intimate for public kiss to her jaw and then throat.

In turn, she looks up at him with a mischievous tilt of her lip and a challenging raised brow. You could cut their sexual tension with a knife.

Y/N lifts up on her toes to kiss him before grabbing his hand and guiding him out of the establishment quickly - his eyes glued to her bum the whole time.

Jack breaks the bated silence, with a bewildered chortle, “What the fuck was that?”

Sarah sips her wine, “Maybe he has a twin? Like a good twin? And he’s the evil one.”

They all laugh and finish up their desserts. 

---

MOTHER’S DAY SHOPPING

Kasey and Tom - from Human Resources - are out for the day. It was a week before Mother’s Day and they were both scrambling for a gift at the shops.

Harrod’s was nearly empty as they had came in a few minutes after the store opened. Kasey had gotten distracted from her mission and was trying on shoes. 

There was a 40% off sale and she wasn’t passing that up.

Tom had wondered off to the electronics department very soon after the first five shoeboxes arrived next to her chair.

“Pink!” Kasey hears a high-pitched baby voice squeal with utter delight. She looks up to see a curly haired toddler pointing at a pair of pink baby shoes.

The little girl had the cutest denim dress on with white stripes ***, white tights on, and white Mary Janes. When Kasey looked closer she realized the Gucci emblem was on the dress - holy shit, she didn’t even know Gucci made baby clothes.

“Daddy, please?” The toddler asks in a sweet, small voice looking to the approaching man who scoops her up in the crook of his elbow.

“Ivy, y’can’t run away from daddy. Do you understand me?” 

Kasey’s eyes widen as she recognizes that deep, raspy voice. It was her boss, Harry Styles, and with his little mini who looked like a cherub angel.

“No run, daddy,” Ivy grins up at him, looking for approval.

The slightly stern look dissipates from his face into a softer, relaxed smile at his daughter’s words. He kept her close against his chest.

“Daddy, please?” She piques up again, pointing at the small shoes on the wall.

“Y’want those shoes?” Harry asks, nodding towards the pink sneakers.

Ivy nods before pointing at the other shoes next to it, “All, please?”

Despite her father not having any manners in the slightest, his daughter seemed to have excellent etiquette.

Harry chuckles, smoothing a stray curl down from her forehead, “Y’want a pair of all these shoes?”

Ivy nods with wide doe eyes and one of her dimples popping in her left cheek. 

“Y’mother’s going to kill me,” Kasey hears Harry mutter before waving a sales associate over.

“Good to see you, Mr. Styles - I’m Tracey. What can I help you with?”

Of course they knew him by name. He was by the looks of it one of their most appreciated customers, figuring he rarely wears the same thing twice.

“Can I please get a pair of all these shoes in a toddler’s size three? And can you please ring them up for me? Thank you,” Harry asks, his voice taking on the executive and firm tone with the associate who nods and turns on her heel.

“Daddy? Kissy?” The girl asks her father, her little palm patting his cheek and she’s puckering her pink lips.

“Yes baby,” Harry obliges, giving her a peck before blowing a raspberry on her cheek. He tugs down her dress that’s ridden up in true parent fashion.

As they’re waiting, Harry continues to talk to his daughter, “Y’know pet, we came here to shop for mumma for mother’s day. Y’always manage to get something out of it, hmm?”

“Mummy?” Ivy squawks, repeating her father’s word. 

“Yes, mummy. I think she’s really going to like the necklace we picked out,” Harry taps at her nose, his eyes just read love and amazement for his little girl.

Kasey was dumbfounded. 

This man had literally stormed into their offices yesterday, frustration seeping into his loud tone as he asked the room of employees if it was a lady's brunch club or a place of employment when he hadn’t gotten a report on his desk at a certain time.

They’d all stuttered and apologized but Harry had already slammed the door of his way out - the doorframe shaking. A nasty email being sent to their inboxes mere minutes later.

“Mr. Styles? We are out of two of the pairs,” The saleswoman appears and tells him, tablet now in hand.

Harry’s voice is calm but he looks her dead in the eye, “Do you not know how to ship them to a house? I don’t have time for this nonsense.”

She begins to apologize, pulling up a page of her tablet, “Your total comes to £6,309.45 for the shoes.”

Kasey’s eyes nearly pop from her head at the total but Harry merely blinks and states, “Charge it to my Amex on file.”

“Would you like me to add on the items you picked up downstairs? That would bring your total to £ 213,088.79. The necklace *** will be shipped within the next two weeks and will need to be signed for at your doorstep by an authorized person of your choosing, they’ll need to provide identification to certify their identity.”

“I need the necklace by next Sunday- it’s my daughter’s Mother’s Day gift to her mum - hence the pink diamonds,” Harry states to the woman like she’s stupid.

Did that woman just say that amount? And did Harry not even bat an eyelash at it. 

Kasey’s brain couldn’t really comprehend it.

“Expedited shipping on this item would be…” Tracey looks down at her tablet and taps a few buttons, “It will be an extra £3,219 for expedited shipping as it’s coming from Swittzerland.” 

Harry is distracted for a moment as Ivy is wriggling until Harry puts her down. Kasey didn’t see that he had a plush doll tucked in between his jeans and belt on his back.

“Baby doll,” Ivy pokes at her father’s thigh, too short to reach her toy. 

Harry tugs it out and hands it to her, “Stay right here, Vee.”

Ivy unceremoniously plops on the ground next to her father’s leather boot while he confirms the purchases and signs off on them.

It was cute - the plush baby doll she was playing with was ratty, worn, and very visibly loved. It seems as if it’s been her favorite toy for a while.

After finishing up with Tracey, Kasey sees him slip her a few bills for her trouble and lugs Ivy back up onto his hip.

“Shake, daddy?” Ivy lisps hopefully, green eyes sparkling up at her father’s. 

Harry lets out a chuckle, “No, baby. It’s only ten in the morning, y’can’t have a milkshake. Let go home, maybe mumma will make us some blueberry pancakes if we give her lots of kisses?”

“Mummy,” Ivy agrees happily, her plush held tightly against her chest.

“She’s going to love your gift, darlin’, even though y’the best gift we’ve ever got,” Harry murmurs lovingly, pressed a warm kiss to his daughter’s cheek.

Tom has wandered back to the shoe department, eyes unfortunately meeting his boss’ right away - widen with surprise.

Harry’s eyes narrow when he finds Tom staring, “Can I help y’mate?”

“Uh-no! Sorry, just, erm, I work for you?” Tom stutters stupidly at his annoyed employer who currently has his toddler trying to pulls his sunglasses off the top of his head.

“Then I’d recommend, if you’d like it to stay that way, you mind your own damn business,” Harry bites out with a warning tone, unnecessarily rude.

Ivy doesn’t seem bothered, delighted when she tugs the shades off his head and attempts to put them on. She begins huffing as she struggles and Harry gently takes them and slides them on for her.

Tom nods, still baffled, and scurries over to Kasey. 

They both glance back when their boss isn’t looking. He hears him murmur softly, “Let’s go see mummy.”

“Pancakes?” Ivy chirps, looking at her dad for confirmation.

“Anythin’ for you, my little love,” Harry agrees, starting to walks to the elevator to the entrance of the store. 

Tom and Kasey look at each other with unexplainable expressions as they watch their asshole of a boss clearly wrapped around a toddler’s finger. 

—-

THE PARK

“Hi! Is anyone sitting here?” Savannah hears from beside her on the park bench. 

She looks up to see a beautiful, young woman looking to be around her age looking at her expectantly. She has a backpack on her shoulders and a curly-haired toddler on her hip.

“Nope! You’re good!” Savannah replies kindly, moving over to make room on the bench for her to sit.

“Awesome, thank you. I’m Y/N and this is Ivy. Say ‘hi’,” Y/N prompts her daughter with a nudge.

Ivy puts on a beaming smile, white little blocky teeth on display, “Hi.”

“I’m Savannah and the little brunette boy in the green shirt is mine - his name’s Flynn.”

“Tell her how old you are, baby,” Y/N smiles, always trying to get her daughter to socialize as much as possible.

“Two!” Ivy giggles before impatiently squirming, “Mummy, play.”

Y/N laughs, “Just as impatient as your father. Go on, stay where mumma can see you, please.”

Ivy nods before speeding off towards the little jungle-gym to automatically start playing with the little group of kids.

“I wish I had their energy,” Y/N sighs, tugging a water bottle out of her backpack. 

Savannah was obsessed with everything gucci - even though she couldn’t afford anything - so when she spots the flashy bag, she can’t help but ask, “Is that a custom Gucci monogram multipack?”***

Y/N takes a sip before answering, “Yeah, my husband gave it to me as a gift on ‘national stay at home mum day’ - which I don’t even think is a real thing. He just knows I’ll chew him out if he buys me things like this without reason.”

They both laugh, Savannah can’t help but glance over the woman a little bit closer. She had a ratty, vintage tee on, plain black leggings, and a pair of black Nikes on - nothing that screamed over the top.

But then she spots the engagement ring *** on her finger. Savannah thought it looked so extravagant it almost looked fake. But the way the faucets reflect so magnificently in the sunshine makes her sure it’s real.

“What was that?” Savannah snaps back, realizing she hadn’t heard what Y/N was saying - too busy deciding how much money she had which wasn’t right when the girl was being so friendly.

“Oh, just - do you know any mum groups around here? I was in a group but all they liked to do was gossip and bitch. And I think Ivy heard the word ‘cunt’ one too many times from them.”

Savannah barks out a laugh, Y/N turns out to be extremely funny and friendly. She has a bit of a foul mouth and a quick wit but is a good listener.

“And so I said to the dude -“ Y/N cuts off when her phone rings, digging it out and answering, “Hi H, yeah. The one with the big purple slide, okay.”

When she hangs up, she tells her new friend, “My husband is stopping by really quick. He has a business dinner later and won’t see Ivy before her bedtime. Or me before my bedtime,” Y/N laughs.

“That’s so nice of him!” Savannah says, knowing her husband enjoyed when everyone was asleep by the time he came home. Would never go out of his way like Y/N’s husband would.

Y/N says with a smile in her eyes, “Yeah, he’s really good to us.”

They continue to chat until they hear a loud engine revving into the car park, Y/N rolls her eyes and mutters, “Of course, he brings the loudest car today.”

A vintage car swings into a spot and Savannah nearly gasps at who exits the car and begins to stride towards them. No one other than her boss. 

The man who had her doing her job by the book and when one hair fell out of place he knew right away. 

The man who she avoided at all cost possibly - taking the stairs so she doesn’t have to be in the elevator with his intimidating presence.

It took her a minute to connect the dots. Y/N was married to Harry? Harry was Ivy’s dad? It through her through a loop - Y/N was just - so nice. 

But it does explain all the gucci and the massive diamond ring. She did happen to work for a fucking billionare. Y/N didn’t come off as a billionaire or a billionaire’s wife.

‘Holy shit, this is wild,’ Savannah thought.

Harry makes his way over to the bench, Y/N standing up to hug him. Harry kisses her softly with a large palm coming to slip under the back of her shirt to rub at her bare back.

Uh - this man was being loving and affectionate? Proving all Savannah's preconceived notions about him wrong. Mostly that he was a robot.

“Hi darlin’, have a good day?” Harry asks his wife, still holding onto her and tugging her into his side - looking to Ivy who was obliviously - playing on the swing.

“Mmm, don’t want you to go tonight,” Yn/Ngroans dramatically, squeaking when Harry playfully pinches her side.

“Tell me and I won’t go,” He murmurs with surprising sincerity against his wife’s cheek, smiling when Ivy lets out a loud, carefree giggle with her new friends.

“Oh! I’m being rude. This is Savannah, Savannah this is my husband Harry,” Y/N introduces the two, unknowing of their connection.

Savannah swallows harshly and gives him a timid wave, “Hello.”

Harry shows no recognition that he knows her but gives her a curt nod and rasps out a “hello.” 

Y/N rolls his eyes at her husband, patting his toned stomach, “He’s always a little crabby after work,” She jokes as he smirks at her - he’s rarely ever crabby with his wife and they both know it.

After work? How about from the time he stepped foot through the lobby doors everyday? He only had one mode at work - crabby.

“It’s ok-“

“Daddy!” A squeal interrupts them, a blur of brunette curls crashing into her father’s legs - full force with excitement.

Harry is bending down and tucking her into his arms for a hug, “Hi baby, y’bein’ so good for mumma?”

His tone had shifted into a low, relaxed drawl that Savannah had never heard. His words are kind and caring towards his daughter.

“Good for mumma,” Ivy parrots her father, dimples popping as she pushes at Harry’s face when he attacks her with kisses.

“You taste so good I could eat yah!” Harry growls playfully, Ivy giggling delightedly at her fathers antics until her cheeks are flushed pink with laughter.

“Swings, daddy,” Ivy motions with green doe eyes. Grass and mud stains the outfit her mother had dressed her in - cute striped overalls with a white tee underneath  *** and little sneakers ****.

“Oh dove, I wish I could. I have to go back to work,” Harry frowns, his thumb coming to caress her sweaty cheekbone.

Her brows furrowed and her full pink lips turned down - Savannah has to contain a laugh by how much she looks like her father with the displeased grimace on her face.

“No, no, Daddy,” Ivy argues adamantly, her eyes brimming with sad tears.

“Vee, c’mon, my love. I’ll be home later,” Harry soothes, starting to rock her from side to side to calm her.

But Ivy is in her terrible twos and doesn’t like the word ‘no.’

Y/N comes up to her husband’s side, tucking a hand into his back pocket to rest. 

“Ivy Elizabeth, we need to let your father go. Come to mummy now, please,” Her mother asks in a soft but firm tone.

“No!” Ivy absolutely shrieks with a awfully high pitch, “No mummy, daddy swings!”

The couple shares a look before Y/N is gathering her backpack on her shoulder, looking back to Savannah, “Hey! Text me, it’s about nap time for this one.”

Savannah agrees and gives them both a wave off as Harry totes his tantruming toddler to a sleek, teal SUV. It takes her a moment to scoff internally - off course it’s a Bentley ***.

And because Savannah can’t help but be nosey she googles the price of the car and quickly locks her screen when she sees the base price is £ 210,000.

Harry is planting little pecks on his daughter’s face and murmuring to her until her tears have dried up and she’s laughing at her dad once again.

After Harry straps her into the car seat and shuts the door, he gently pushes his wife back against it. His body is crowding hers, arm over her shoulder against the car.

The talk for a moment before Harry’s ducking down to pull a few kisses from her lips before she’s giggling and pushing him off.

Savannah couldn’t wait to tell the old women at in her customer relations department tomorrow.

— 

THE GAME

Cassie didn’t mind Harry actually. She made his coffee nearly every morning and she secretly knew he was the one who left those hefty tips.

She’d fumbled over his orders a few times when she’d started and apologized profusely but Harry had just looked up from his phone and said, “S’fine.”

Yeah, that’s not much but compared to some of the horror stories she hears, but she was grateful for another reason.

—-

One day he had found her crying in a empty corridor that he used to walk to his car at the end of his day.

“Y’alright?” Her boss asks gruffly, pausing to look down at her - no clear emotion on his face.

Cassie nods sheepishly, “M’sorry, I’m just really stressed out.”

Harry’s eyes flash a tad darker, “Is Carole giving you trouble?” 

Carole was her manager.

“N-no. I got declined for my school financial aid. If I don’t come up with the money I’ll have to drop out. I-I have a son and I do-don’t have the money to go without help.”

Harry doesn’t say anything, rustling into the inner pocket of his suit and fishing out something - a checkbook.

He clicks the pen and moves his hand quickly across the pad before ripping it out and handing it to her, “Good luck and use the extra on your family. Don’t go spreading it around that I did this.”

Cassie goes to thank him or refuse it but when she looks back up from the check he’s already striding away down the hallway away from her.

She lets out a loud sob as she sees a check written for £150,000 right in front of her.

—

Cassie still works at the Starbucks part-time while attending college with the help of her secretly kind boss.

The extra money she’s stowed away in an education fund for her son after he graduates. 

Anyways, she was at Man U football game that she got invited to with her boyfriend - Jacob. His dad won tickets for box seats from his work in a raffle.

Cassie soon realized that their box was right by the Styles Media and Marketing one. The way they were placed, she could see right into their area.

It was just Harry and a woman in there. 

They were obviously a couple and this was the Cruella Deville. Cassie didn’t refer to her as that as she had a bit of a different perspective of the man.

His wife was sipping on a water bottle and cheering loudly with the rest of the fans. Harry watched her with amusement at her excited behavior, at one point pulling his photo out and snapping a picture of her.

When the exciting bit is over, she seats herself on his lap and wriggles until her back is against his chest - comfortable and cozy.

His large palm comes to cup at her stomach, Cassie now seeing that she is clearly pregnant as he cradles the noticeable bump protectively.

For most of the game, his hand never leaves her belly - rubbing circles with his thumb. His head came to rest on her shoulder to watch the game.

They seem so happy together - giggling and talking animatedly throughout. His wife constantly tilting her head back with her lips puckered requesting kisses that Harry happily supplies each time.

At one point, Cassie witnesses Y/N eat two huge corndogs in a row while her husband watches her with humor in his eye. Then goes on to order her a massive spool of candy floss that he feeds her throughout the game.

It was a late game and it was now in overtime. The clock reads nearly eleven at night. Harry’s wife has dozed off against his shoulder and when he notices he gently rouses her.

As she blinks her eyes open, Harry shucks his jacket of his shoulder and helped her slip it on. They must decide to call it a night because he’s helping her up, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, and guiding her out of the box.

Cassie never tells anyone that she saw him that night or what he did to help her family.

The End.

Hope you bubbbies enjoyed. Send me requests for this verse. Smut is up next for this trope.

#Harry Styles #harrystylesfanfic #harry styles smut #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #fan fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles dad #dad!harry #husband!harry #husband harry styles #ceo!harry #ceo Harry #harry styles fic rec #harry styles request #harry styles writing #harry styles writing request #harry styles masterlist #harry styles drabble #harry styles blurb #dark harry styles #one direction

[barnesbabee]

[Z]elophilia || P.S

[ꜱᴇxᴜᴀʟ ᴇɴᴄʏᴄʟᴏᴘᴇᴅɪᴀ - ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴢ]

Summary: You never know who might be watching you... Or wanting you. Jealousy is a fuel to sexual tension, and you'd soon learn that.

Pairing: Park Seonghwa x gn!reader

Words: get out me swamp

Genre: Smut

You couldn't say you were a very insightful person. Sure, you could spot when your fries were one chip short, but when it came to noticing people who eyed you or tried to flirt with you, you were pretty much oblivious, and some people were happy you were that way, not only so they could shamelessly watch you without raising any suspicion, but also because you would pretty much accidentally turn down any possible partner.

This oblivion towards the romantic area earned you the 'hard to get' title, and so, during your college years, many people had you on number 1 on their bucket list. Some were very forward with you (maybe too forward), and those were very much purposely rejected by you. At some point you were sure you could have made a photo album with all the disgusting dick pics from random men and undesired ass shots from women who clearly had never gotten a 'no' in their lives.

Your eyes were set on someone, however. Two "someone's", actually, but although you would love to have your hot, young, mysterious professor for breakfast, lunch and dinner, he had a kid, and he was way out of your league.

The slicked back, black hair that contrasted with the tight white suit shirt with rolled up sleeves, and black suit pants, that made him look like everyone's dream sugar daddy, or a natural ruffled hairstyle, with a light-coloured sweater and tight black jeans, that made him look like a student heartthrob, Seonghwa could pull any look he set his mind to.

On your 2nd year of college, when you actually got him as your teacher, you had thought of making a move (you'd be out of there in a couple years anyway), but throughout the academic year you saw Seonghwa's disgusted face as shameless women basically shoved their chest right in his face, or slid him their number very publically, so you had just given up on the idea. That was the year another guy transferred into your class from a university that had been shut down due to a catastrophic fire that had destroyed most of it, and left the building in shambles.

He was tall, with a sharp nose and cat-like eyes. Although he looked like someone not to be messed with, he was very goofy and clumsy, and the mix of mysteriousness with adorableness won over your heart. He was very much like you, and didn't get the hint. He just thought all of these people were being nice to him because he was new and didn't have many friends.

"Hi Mingi!"

The aforementioned lifted his head up from his questionable drawing and smiled at you.

"Hello! It's... Y/N, right? Sorry, it's so many people and it's hard to remember names."

You laughed and nodded.

"You got it right! Listen, I was wondering if you'd want to get some ice cream after class, I know this-"

"Ice cream? Fuck yeah!"

You giggled at the adorable way his eyes turned into two crescents as he smiled, like a kid, upon mentioning the treat.

"Please take your seats, miss Y/N this is a classroom not an informal get togehter, please behave accordingly."

You frowned and headed to your seat as fast as possible, wearing a very visible pout whilst doing it. Your teacher had randomly started acting extremely cold towards you for no reason, and it wasn't a good look in him. He'd constantly pick on you and call you out, and you couldn't understand why.

Mr. Park carried on with the class, acting regularly with every other student. You had commented this behaviour with some of your peers, but they insisted it was all in your head, that you were trying to have a so called 'y/n moment'.

That day you left class with Mingi, side by side, grazing arms and hands as you walked out, and you were sure you could feel a pair of eyes observing you, but you were in a trance, too focused in Mingi's honey-like voice to notice anything else.

"Do you know anyone who's good in Mr. Park's class? I might need some tutoring and I want to get one now to start actually understanding shit..."

"Well I have pretty good grades! I could help you!" You kindly offered.

Your offer totally didn't have second intentions. You totally weren't thinking of those stories where a tutoring session goes... Places.

"You do!?"

There was a small silence, which you used to express your offense towards Mingi's disbelief.

He blushed slightly and scratched the back of his head, feeling embarrassed.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to come across as rude... Its just that the teacher keeps messing with you in class, I thought you had bad grades and that's why he didn't like you, cause you don't really act up."

"I've been saying that for ages! I don't know what happened, he was always kind do me but recently he's just been off... It's a shame, makes it really hard to like his class."

Mingi swung his arm over you, hugging you from the side as consolation, causing a prominent pink blush to spread across your faces.

After the small date, Mingi had asked you out once more, and things seemed to be going well between the two of you. Small, shy glances, flirty winks, and wrinkled pieces of paper you switched with sweet messages was how you spent most classes. It was all very adorable, especially for all your friends that watched with the hope that you would eventually become something, that is, until Mr. Park caught Mingi slipping you one of said papers. He walked towards you and snatched it from your hands.

You watched his face become red, and his face showed an angry expression he desperately tried to hide, but to no avail.

"You two better yet your act together and stop fooling around and distracting the class, or else I'll have no other choice but to report it to the principal and have it on your record."

He turned around quickly, as he crumpled up the paper and threw it on the trash.

You were beyond fuming. He was acting like it was a 5th grade class, constantly on your ass and reprehending you like you were 15. Your mind was set, you were going to have a talk with your tevaher by the end of the class, you couldn't handle one more hour with this man behaving this way.

So once class was over, you watched as everyone left. You told Mingi you'd meet him later, and leaned on Mr. Park's desk as he cleaned the board.

"How can I help you?" The teacher asked, back still facing you.

"Why have you been treating me differently?"

The man turned around quickly upon recognising your voice.

"I'm afraid I don't know what you mean." He faked, pretending to be too busy to look at you, desperately trying to distract himself from your thighs, exposed due to the length of your shorts, pressing together in a way that teased him way more than they should.

"There were 3 people sleeping in class today, one girl was texting and one dude was rolling a joint, and you got mad at me and Mingi because we were sending paper notes!?"

Mr. Park set down the chalk harder than he should have, shattering it in many pieces in the process. His jaw clenched, remembering the 'I can't wait to kiss you again'. Again.

Your question was met with silence, as Mr. Park was trying his best not to lose his cool.

"Would you reply, please? The way you treat me, very unfairly may I add, makes your class very tiring."

"I don't have to give my students any satisfactions about anything beside the class work, and you don't need to like my class to pass it."

His condescending tone and lack of eye contact, not even acknowledging you there, was driving you insane.

"Are you capable of treating me with a little more respect or at least tell me what I did wrong for you to hate me this much?"

The male finally looked at you, a dark, hungry look that scared you beyond belief. He walked dangerously close towards you, too close to be professional.

"I don't hate you. I like you a little too fucking much, and you drive me crazy, and seeing you with that other student drives me crazy in a different way. So for the sake of my sanity, ignore my antics and don't ask questions."

You gulped, only being able to focus on how close his pink, plump lips were, and on the way his finger lightly grazed your inner thighs.

You immediately forgot Mingi, as if you didn't even know him. After all, Seonghwa was choice number 1 anyway...

"B-but aren't you married? Don't you have a kid?"

The man smirked, seeing the way you were giving into his touch. He inhaled deeply, as he gripped your thighs ever so slightly, and bent over so he could kiss your neck.

"What? Want my baby girl to call you a parent as well? Is that it? Cause I can make that happen..." He chuckled, as his fingers and lips became more bold.

You places your hands on his chest, pushing him away lightly. You didn't want him to get away, but you had to do it.

"Sir I don't want to get in between a marriage..."

You saw his eyes darken at the word 'Sir', and for some reason decided to take a mental note.

"Miss Y/N, my divorce isn't ideal sex talk."

You blushed, embarrassed, thinking you had lost your dream chance of fucking the most attractive man to walk the university halls.

The man, however, chuckled, one of his hands coming up to wrap around your neck. His fingers gripped your throat tightly.

"You're so fucking adorable, you make me want to sin."

You rolled your hips against his, feeling his protrudent hard-on against your crotch. The male groaned, taking that action as a green card.

His lips met yours in a hungry, desperate kiss. Your hands held his face as his shamelessly groped your ass, bringing your crotch against his and rolling his hips in the process.

A small whimper escaped you, as he bit your lower lip lightly.

He pulled away, to get a good look at your face. Seonghwa's fingers wrapped around your throat once more, chuckling at the way your brows furrowed in pleasure.

"So desperate... I love to ser you like this."

You rolled your hips against his, playing his game against him.

"Sir... Please." You begged.

He couldn't say no to you, neither did he want to. Seonghwa flipped you around, bending you over his wooden desk, and hurriedly pulled down your shorts and underwear.

The man took a second admiring your figure, he held your ass in his ands and squeezed it.

"So pretty... I almost feel bad for what I'm about to do to you."

You had no time to reply, as he knelt down and started eating you out, tongue teasing at your entrance, over and over, purposely not giving you what tou wanted.

His hands played with your ass, gripping it and slapping it from time to time, and containing your minas became harder by the second. Your hands gripped the desk, in a desperate attempt to contain your sounds.

"Shit, sir please fuck me I can't take it anymore."

He stood up, and bent over on top of you, his fingers tracing the curves of your body as he whispered in your ear.

"Whatever you want, doll."

The man unzipped his pants, and you felt his hard cock slap your ass. He teased your entrance, not quite pushing inside you yet, but once he did, it was slow. Seonghwa wanted to feel and enjoy every part of you thoroughly. He filled you up to the brim, and you had to bite your lip to restrain your grunts and groans.

His hips started moving, slowly but surely, and as you grew accustomed to his size and begged for more, his hips snapped faster against yours, making the skin slapping sound echoe in the room. Beads of sweat started building up in both of your foreheads, and his once composed hair was sticking to his forehead.

The constant teasing from the male had left you very sensitive.

"Sir I'm- I'm gonna cum."

"D-Do it Y/N. I wanna feel you."

Upon his approval, you came, clenching around him in the process, allowing a small moan to be heard.

"Fuck!" Seonghwa yelled, too lost in lust to care.

He pulled out just in time, to cum all over your ass. Seonghwa wanted to cum in you, but he spared it for another time, simply focusing on the pleasing way his cum dripped down your ass.

The man kindly helped you clean up and get dressed, holding your hips and inspecting your figure once you were done.

"I won't force you to anything, but I would like for us to repeat this. Many times."

#Ateez #Ateez smut #Ateez Seonghwa smut #Seonghwa #Seonghwa smut #seonghwa smut scenario #kpop #kpop smut #ateez smut #ateez scenario #ateez scenarios #Kpop #Kpop smut

[thewritingginger]

AoT Boys - Preferences

This is something... I have nothing else to say about it lol

Also it may be a bit all over the place idk 

Fandom: Attack on Titan Characters: Reiner Braun, Armin Arlert, Eren Yeager & Jean Kirstein Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, Fem! Bodied Reader, Mentions of sex, Swearing, lot of boob, ass, & thigh talk, also switches b/w saying s/o and you I'm a mess :)

 Enjoy ~

Reiner

Reiner is a simple man that loves dem tiddies!

Big or little doesn't matter

Man has giant hands and if it fits it ships

“You fit so perfectly in my hands.”

Loves to lay on your chest - #LittleSpoonReiner

When he had a particularly rough day all he wants to do is nizzle into your chest and breathe in your scent

Likes to massage them over your clothes when y’all make out

Can’t keep his mouth off of them, licking and biting them as he also plays with your nipples

He may give them a few smacks here and there if that's the mood 😉

Honestly would so happy to just play with your chest and nothing else, especially if you really like it

Likes when his s/o rides him - not only cuz it gives them more control of the pacing but also bc he gets a full view of their breasts

If you want to make this man nearly combust send him a saucy pic while he’s out/at work and can’t get to you

Man is weak for some lacy lingerie - really likes pastels and white (to him if makes it almost feel naughtier cuz of how sweet it looks)

“I was thinking of wearing this to our date tonight, do you like it? 😇” - w/ a mirror pic of you in a matching lacy set, wearing one of his large button up shirts and make sure you put your hand on your cheek sweetly, pressing your breasts together

He would call you so fast!

“Sweetheart, I am at work! Please-”

“And change of plans, instead of going out Imma need you to be on that bed when I get home tonight because we will not be leaving that room till you’re completely fucked out.”

Really likes clothed sex - why would he just rip of that pretty lingerie you put on for him when he can continue to enjoy it on your beautiful body while he rails you?!

He just overall enjoys seeing and feeling your chest and bonus points for it also feeling good for you though he doesn’t really touch them w/o your permission/ when y’all are getting it on

However, in his sleep his hand can become a bit of a wanderer

So he is a perv but not so outwardly so

Really likes lacy or mesh shirts where can see your bra/bralette  - though sometimes it can make him feel some type of way

“Beautiful, I always love what you wear but you gotta stop doing this to me, my heart can’t take it.”

Man just melts for you! ok?! 

Armin

Armin is a Thigh Man! and I will die on this hill!!!

He loves to hold and squeeze them - in both sexual & non-sexual situations

Laying on them is prime time for him, he may even leave a few sleepy kisses behind before falling asleep on them

Also Thigh fucking is his jam!! And you can’t convince me otherwise

Not only does he love the feeling of your thighs jerking him off but also it’s about that teasing he loves to give his s/o

May even taunt them about it

“You like feeling my cock slide between your thighs?”

“My Angel wishes they had my cock inside them, huh.”

He also just generally loves kissing, licking and biting your thighs, he likes to take his time especially when he is about to go down on you

He likes to have his hand on his s/o’s thigh while sitting next to them, whether at home or out for lunch with friends - not necessarily in a sexual way well… unless you want him to 😉

Want to make him excited? Wear some thigh high stockings

If you are wearing a skirt and at some point in the day you lift the hem to show the garter strap holding up your stocking he’ll let out a little low hum of approval and needs to get his hands on you soon 

That also goes for if you want to send him a little pic in the day to show you miss him just a little

“Thinking of you bb 🥰” - w/ a picture of your skirt raised or just in a pair of cute panties while sat on your knees with your thighs pressed together would do the trick

He would blush a little at the initial shock -especially if around others-  but would be quick to excuse himself before responding

“You’re so beautiful, when I get home I’m gonna spread those pretty thighs open and have you screaming for me.”

Boy really likes not only shear tights but also fishnets

Whether you wear them under a skirt/dress or under distressed jeans and it peeks through holes and over the top he’s in for it

Has 10000% had sex with a pair of fishnets on - the ones with the extra large holes that he can fit his dick through - yes ma’am

Also just plain old ripping them open so make sure you don’t spend a lot of money of your tights cuz they might not last too long oop

Eren

Also a Boobie Man!

Whether he is just chillin on the couch watching t.v. with his s/o or making out and getting down to business, his hand somehow always finds its way to a boob

He will just put his arm around your shoulder and snake his hand down the collar of your shirt and just cup it - maybe will begin to give a few squeezes here and there mf treating it like a stress ball smh

Will motor boat you - he doesn’t care if there isn't much to your chest either cuz he will go for it anyway

If he is having sex in missionary best believe both his palms would be kneaded his s/o’s breasts

Or if from behind he will lean over and wrap his arm around their front to hold them

But lets need not forget the tiddie bounce when his s/o rides him

So many choices baby boy doesn’t know which one he likes best 🤔

Loves some tiddie-fucking

And cumming on dem boobies as well

“You look so good with my cum drippin down your tits.”

This bitch will be at work and ask for nudes smh

Of course he wants boobie pics - loves when you are topless and holding your breasts with your hands or simply just your cleavage down your shirt

“You’re always so good to me Babygirl. I’ll see you when I get home 😉”

Likes when you wear revealing tops

Of course he’ll about throw hands if someone's gaze stays a bit too long but he is proud of his baby and knows they are beautiful

Eren, unlike Reiner, is more outwardly pervy

Always encourages you not to wear a bra

“Your nipples are so cute, why wouldn’t you want to show them.”

Also you know he aint afraid to stare and when you catch him he’ll just give you a wink and a cocky smirk

Jean

Bonafide Booty Man!

Like Reiner, the size doesn’t matter!

Big or little - if he can grab he can vibe with it

This boy always has his hand on the butt any chance he gets

Cuddle Time? His hand will rubb and hold the booty

When y’all are making out? You best believe he’ll pull you real close and squeeze your ass

So safe to say that taking his s/o from behind is great booty access

Also reverse Cowgirl is a nice view as well

“Fuck, I love seeing your ass bounce on my cock.”

Loves to squeeze, jiggle and spank your butt

Also kissing and biting the cheeks are a yes in his book

Likes to bend over his s/o and go down on them from behind, having is tongue covered in their taste as his hands grope and smack their ass - sign him up

Likes days in at home with you, especially if you opt out of wearing pants - Pants are always optional in his household  😉

If he sees cheeks he’s a happy man

Expect to get little booty love taps &/or pinches while around him - mostly when it’s just you two at  home

If you want to fluster him a bit give his ass a little smack/squeeze of your own 

Likes when you send him pics but when he’s at work? He’ll have to breathe for a minute and leave the room if others are around

“Baby, should I get these?” - w/ a pic in a dressing room wearing a silky “pajama” short set that leaves little to the imagination; booty on full display of course

“Yes! 😍😍😍”

“My sweet girl, I want to see you in that when I get home.”

Big fan of leggings and high waisted pants on his s/o - all about extenuating that booty

Just tight pants in general tbh

If you ever come out in a little number and the booty is poppin he’ll grab your hand and make you do a little spin for him to get a full 360 view

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Hope you liked that! Want more? Let me know. 

My requests are open for both regular and Kinktober - Make sure you read my guidelines :3

💛 ~

#aot #attack on titan #attack on titan smut #snk x reader #aot reiner #snk reiner #reiner braun #reiner braun x reader #aot reiner x reader #reiner x reader #reiner braun smut #aot armin #snk armin #armin arlert #aot armin x reader #armin x reader #armin arlert smut #aot eren #snk eren #eren yeager #eren yeager x reader #eren yeager smut #aot jean #snk jean #jean kirstein #jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirstein smut

[emonaculate]

Streamer!Eren headcanons

❥ AU: Modern!AU

❥ Genre: Fluff

❥ Rating: Anyone can read

❥ Pairings: Streamer!Eren x Black!Reader

❥ Author Note: Ive been having the biggest brain rot about streamer!eren cause i just feel in my bones, it would be perfect for him so here are some head canons.

inspired by @sleepysnk

Eren would play any game that peaks his interest, but gets the most views when he plays any horror game, minecraft, or among us.

Its mainly due to how serious he gets when he rages over losing/dying or getting a jump scare.

"SON OF A BITCH! WHERE THE FUCK DID THAT ZOMBIE EVEN COME FROM?"

"Eren babe, not so loud."

"Sorry beautiful."

There are tons of video compilations dedicated to you walking in to shush him

His fans ADORE you

Most of them are baffled that Eren is in an interracial relationship but quickly grow used it after seeing your interactions

He often answers questions surrounding your relationship without invading what you want to keep private.

He would 100% let you sit in his lap whilst streaming

His views always rise when you are there, people just like seeing the adorable banter and romance

Everyone can tell how much he loves you

Literally he will visibly soften whenever you enter his line of view

Demands kisses whenever you enter or leave his "office"

If you ever miss a kiss, he will take a break from his stream and track you down

Plays with Jean, Connie, and Armin often

Plays with you too and gets super overprotective if anyone kills you in a game.

Once the entire gang played Among Us together and Eren went completely batshit after finding out Reiner and Bertholdt were the imposters that killed you.

The next round he is the imposter.

"And I took that personally."

He's oddly the scariest imposter.

For some reason, he becomes rational but manages to hide it well behind his usual hotheadness.

Still would never kill you tho <3

He would completely obliterate you in minecraft however

"eren stop I only have one heart left. you play too much."

"you didnt seem to mind playing when you hit me into lava... I lost all my fucking diamonds so you know what they say... hasta la vista baby"

Sucks at building but sucks at mining as well

usually fights mobs all night to stack up xp

says he's training to fight the dragon

swears he'll slay all creepers

deathly afraid of endermans

when they pop up, his screams are girly and loud

"HOLY SHIT. NO NO NO RUN YOU DAMN MIDGET! FUCKING MOVE!"

when he isn't fighting, he'll gather flowers for you and constantly leave them in places for you to find around your house

"Thanks for the flowers baby, yellow is still my favorite."

"I know princess."

he also puts gifts in your chests even though he sucks at mining, because you deserve the best.

Eren is pretty perverted and though he doesnt look at his stream chat often, whenever he sees any comments about your body or how lucky he is, all he does is grin knowingly and mumble "all mine."

HATES whenever people make it a big deal that you're black

addresses it once and swears if shit starts up again, he'll leave forever and never come back despite streaming being something he loves

will never tolerate racism or hearing stereotypes toward you EVER, even if its unintentional, pops off ever mfing time.

"Whether or not that's her real hair, it doesn't fucking concern you. Stop asking when you clearly look like you have uneven extensions, Brittany. Mind your fucking business."

"Baby chill, maybe she was just asking a honest questions."

"Nah fuck that. I don't give a damn, don't worry about whats in my baby's head."

You know those social media stars, who turn the cheek and allow people to say rude and hateful shit?

Yeah thats not Eren, he will always clap back harder and its beyond disrespectful.

"How are you gonna tell me to kill myself, when your bio literally says fly high mom? You must want me to pay her a visit or something."

"I'm too short? Well I think my height is just fine compared to your brother who seems to be just below six feet."

He has been cancelled TOO many times

its always for stupid shit

for being able to speak Japanese despite being a white man

for thinking pineapple on pizza is good

for liking Pepsi over coke

for pouring his milk in before his cereal

His COD lobby trash talk; while he doesn't say slurs or racist remarks, its too damn vulgar. He was built for that lobby 😭😭

His trash talking is elite and most times you can hear the person he is shit talking on the verge of crying. Its so fucking brutal.

In the same breath, he turn around and ask for kisses from you, as if he didn't make someone rethink being born.

That side only pops out when he is extremely pissed and he tries to avoid ever getting that mad because he knows words can hurt.

AN ADVOCATE FOR THE LGBTQ+ COMMUNITY

Gets super confused whenever someone asks what his thoughts on the community are.

"Love who you want, why the fuck should I worry about what some else gets off to?"

"If dicks makes you hard, cool. If pussy get you off, me too, lets be friends. Sexuality shouldn't matter people, grow tf up."

Donates a huge sum of the money he earns to different causes such as: cleaning up the polluted ocean charities, Black lives matter, protect Asian lives, and feed the hungry.

Basically he's caring and just wants to help despite his impulsive personality.

Once a month, he visits orphanages to talk to the kids, no camera no video nothing just to hang with the kids.

The only way his followers find out is because others posting about it.

Overall, Eren is in love with what he does and you, but if he had to pick, he'd choose you every single day over and over again <3

#streamer!eren #eren x black reader #eren yeager x black reader #tw: mentions of stereotyping #among us #attack on titan #eren jaeger #black reader #fem black reader #brain rot #eren is so cute #eren headcanons