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saerins · 1 year

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─── 𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

+ itoshi sae x f!reader | wc 4.7k | content: fluff (i promise), slight insecurities, comfort, 5 times he says yes and 1 time he says no

notes: ok ok so guys !! i know i’ve been posting angst recently so i offer you comfort sae !! <3 this man has my entire heart so i’m just gonna embrace it hehe may or may not have been thinking of ‘daylight’ when i wrote this .

summary: the way sae loves you is beautiful. it’s nothing like you envisioned and something you never knew you needed.

“be my girlfriend, then, idiot.”

he’s handsome, seventeen.

even more handsome when he’s on the field, being the beast you know he is. he dribbles past everyone like they’re robots, like they’re snails. he gets into the penalty area and scores, and everyone in the stand cheers.

if there’s one common knowledge in your high school, it’s that itoshi sae is one of the world’s best soccer players.

maybe it’s no wonder that you’re holding a bag full of gifts for sae for valentines, being assistant manager for your school’s soccer team. it’s astounding how heavy this bag is. but you’ll know that in the end, whatever’s inside will likely get distributed between the entire team anyway, given how sae never accepts a single one.

“is it that time of the year again?” sae sighs, squirting water from his bottle into his mouth, towel hanging around his neck as he walks out of the locker room shirtless, fresh after a shower and hair all damp, sticking to the sides of his face.

still handsome.

“would it kill you to accept at least one of them?”

you expect one of his usual retorts—maybe a yes or a one of them could be poisonous. but instead, he grabs the bag from you, still frowning. “fine then,” he says, opening the bag and peering inside before he turns his gaze back onto you, “which one’s from you?”

the one with the purple post-it attached to sae’s favourite candy bar.

“i didn’t give you any, itoshi,” you lie, keeping your calm and crossing your arms. but sae cocks a brow because he doesn’t believe you. “really!”

“yeah, you sure about that?” sae’s tone takes a surprisingly gentle turn, and you find it hard to get used to. especially when it’s coupled with an amused expression.

“really, i’d die before giving anything to a grump like you.”

sae nods his head like he doesn’t believe you and starts rifling through the contents. he takes something out—a candy bar with a purple post-it attached to it. you can’t escape from him even if you tried.

“you’re the most irritating smart handsome guy i know, i hope you make it to the big leagues, i’ll never get tired of watching you play,” sae reads out loud, monotonously because it’s his way of mocking you. his gaze shifts from the note up to you, and he has his answer by your unwillingness to meet his eyes. “slick.”

“oh, shut up,” you tell him before turning on your heels and walking off.

“you want me so bad.”

“you wish, itoshi sae.”

“hey, take the rest of these away from me,” sae calls after you, referring to the big bag of valentines’ gifts you’d just left him with.

you turn around, walking backwards. “i’m not your girlfriend, itoshi, not my job!”

sae smirks. “be my girlfriend then, idiot.”

taken off guard, you fail to watch where you’re walking and fall over a broom, knocking several of the janitor’s stuff over. sae runs over, straight-faced while he holds his hand out to you.

“damn klutz,” he remarks as he pulls you up on your feet.

you’re thankful sae’s not the kind to make jokes like how he swept you off your feet, but the close proximity is making you giddy, in a good way, and you’re not sure you want to pass up on that.

“so?”

“so what, itoshi? and let me go,” you say, trying to pull away from him. he doesn’t let go though.

“say yes, then i’ll let go,” he tells you, and you can feel his breath fanning your lips and you’re sure he’s having a field day watching you get flustered.

“sure you want me, itoshi sae?” because a part of you finds that hard to believe, with the way he rejects other girls left and right and barely feels any remorse.

but what you don’t know is how different you are to him. if he dare say, special. maybe it’s the way you’ve always seemed like the stubborn kind, the kind of girl that refuses to ask for help but secretly wants to be protected. the kind of girl who can always help herself, but kill him if he thinks you’re someone who wouldn’t mind having someone to lean on.

maybe at some point, he started to want to be that person for you. no matter how many times you scream his name for not complying to schedules, no matter how many times you flip your hair against his face. you have everyone on the soccer team on a leash, and most of all sae.

that’s the first time he tells you—yes, he wants you.

“not even if you bribe me.”

at nineteen, sae’s serious about you.

it’s no secret that he’s devoted—you can feel it. because sae isn’t the type to profess his love every day, no. he’s the kind that shows it through his actions, through the way he automatically carries your shopping for you, through the way he always takes your side in public, through the way he looks at you whenever you’re talking.

you have no doubt about it. it doesn’t even cross your mind that he might stray. yeah, you have your priorities, and he has his. you’ll go after them, and he’ll go after his—there’s no reason why you can’t chase your dreams in parallel.

your parents think otherwise, though.

like some rather typical parents do, they’re sceptical; sae can see it in their eyes. the way they furrow their brows whenever you invite him to chime in during dinner, the way they ask investigative questions—things about his past history that even you never asked him.

“mom!” you’re fed up with their interrogation tactics, shooting a warning glare at your parents.

your mom and dad look at each other in resignation before resuming to quietly eat their dinner. you’re reluctant to leave sae alone at the dinner table with your parents while you help to wash up, but sae tells you he’ll be fine. because he will.

they’re humans. they’re like you, just older and less prettier. why should sae be scared?

as expected, the moment you turn the tap on, your parents jump on him.

“you know, she really likes you,” your mom tells him. “i can’t say the same for you, though.”

sae’s never navigated around conversations with parents. he doesn’t know the first thing about this. he’s just keeping his fingers crossed he doesn’t fuck up.

“you look like someone who has a lot of girls, itoshi,” your father chimes in before sae can speak up. “you have a lot of girls on the side?”

he could not be more wrong.

“none, sir.”

why does this effort feel much more than necessary?

“why y/n?” your mother jumps in, and for the first time tonight, sae spots a genuine curiosity in her eyes.

not the best question to ask someone who doesn’t even remotely talk about their feelings. sae finds himself stumped, but your mother is, fortunately, a nice person deep down.

“just tell me this,” she leans forward, and your father seems to relax a little bit, sinking back against his chair. none of you realise the tap’s turned off. “do you love her?”

that’s… premature, if sae has any say in it. and he thinks it’s criminal that he’s telling your mother before he even tells you, but he knows that not admitting it would likely cause a rift between you and them—not something he wants.

making you miserable? no thank you.

so he nods, “yes, i do.”

“you realise that—”

“sir, let me put it this way: you can’t force me to stay away from her, not even if you bribe me.”

from the kitchen, you smile as you listen. looks like you had nothing to worry about after all.

“they’re nothing compared to you.”

you love seeing sae living his dreams; love having front-row seats to his matches, love catching the fleeting glimpses he gives after he wins.

he’s twenty-one and thriving in the soccer scene, more than ever. world-famous and revered. the two of you are stronger than ever, still, because despite how sae looks, he’s much softer than people think.

when he’s running late from practice, he texts you the moment he can, tells you what’s up. when he has to cancel on you, he makes sure he makes it up to you. if he has soccer obligations on special occasions, he’ll let you know.

it’s funny thinking back to the days when you used to squabble with each other, to the days when everyone was tired of hearing you and sae argue.

not that that should be a problem now anymore—why? simple, because non-disclosure agreements are ass. but a highly recommended thing by his publicist; to protect his image, and then he told you not to take it personally because he’s asking all of sae’s close contacts to sign it too.

which didn’t take long.

it was mostly rin and his parents, and some other guys he used to know back in high school.

oh, and there’s you. apparently, you can’t divulge anything about being in a relationship with itoshi sae. so, as far as the world is concerned, he’s a bachelor.

“it’ll sell better,” was all the explanation his publicist offered.

sae had been against it, because why should he hide you from the world? and it’s stupid. but his publicist is smart, pointing out that you might get harassed online if his loyal fans find out. (to which sae begrudgingly agreed to, for the interim.)

it was fine, up to a point, but you’d never really considered how you’d feel seeing all these headlines of sae possibly being romantically linked with all these socialites and up-and-coming movie stars.

a part of you, the prideful part, is too stuck-up to ask your boyfriend for assurance. mainly because you think it’s stupid. sae constantly texts you when he’s not with you (as much as his schedule allows), and whenever he’s done for the day he goes back home and calls you if he can.

the other part of you, the lovestruck one, is afraid that maybe you can’t measure up to everyone else. that just maybe, you’re worlds apart and you’re not good enough.

usually you’d wait for sae to tell you he’s home, you’d let him rest his mind on the way back, but this time you’re impulsive and you’re dialing his number before you know it.

“hey, what’s wrong?” he asks, picking up after just two rings. even he knows you don’t usually initiate the calls.

“um,” you stutter because you don’t actually know how to tell him you’re calling to ask for assurance. despite having been together for four years, you realise that neither of you have actually sat down and talked about feelings.

“babe, talk to me,” sae urges you, and you can hear him getting off the bus. he must have just reached his apartment complex. he must’ve been tired from an entire day of intensive bootcamp and here you are, calling him with your trivial matters.

“it’s nothing, sae, forget it.”

“wait, what—”

you hang up before he can say anything and quickly text him.

i’m feeling a little sick tonight, just going to rest early.

sae leaves you on read and you think you’ve fended him off.

you did not.

an hour later, he’s at your door, carrying all your favorite convenience store snacks and a worried expression.

“what is it?” he asks you. you’re a little too stunned to speak. sae lets himself in, placing the snacks on your dining table before he really looks at you, surveying your face. “what were you crying about?”

you suddenly feel stupid for thinking your puffy eyes wouldn’t give you away.

sae tips your chin up when you try to look down. “y/n, tell me,” and he sounds only concerned, and the guilt builds up inside you.

so you tell him—you tell him about your intrusive thoughts as he lets you lay against his chest on the couch. you tell him about your insecurities as he sits in silence and listens. you tell him that you think it’s stupid of you to think this and you’re beginning to think you’re an ass for keeping him up so late when he has training tomorrow morning.

but sae doesn’t feel that. not one bit.

“it’s not stupid,” he tells you, and if you’d been able to see his expression, you’d know that he can never look at anyone the same way he looks at you. “all those girls you’re worried about, they’re nothing compared to you.”

“really?” you sniffle, appreciating the fact that even though he’s horrible at talking emotions, he’s trying his best for you.

sae pulls some hair away from your face and you pull back to get a good look at him. “really, stupid.” you laugh and he laughs, and now you’re really feeling stupid because there’s no way sae would ever choose anyone else over you. would never dream of having any other option.

“promise?”

sae sighs, in that lovingly way he does. “yes, i promise,” and he means it—he’s never thought of being with anyone else. “i love you, don’t i?”

you nod, chuckling because yes, yes he does. and yes, you know that more than anyone. even if it has to be kept under wraps for now; there’s no cause for concern.

when you fall asleep on his chest and sae’s too cautious to wake you up, your mother wakes up to take some water and stumbles upon the sight. she greets sae with a nod and a smile, the softest one he’s seen so far.

“my daughter has good taste.”

“that’s a secret.”

sae’s only getting more and more famous as he gets older. a year later and he’s already garnering attention from everyone, with girls lining up to be a possible mrs itoshi.

you’re still unknown; hidden in the crevices, tucked between pieces of signed contracts. you’re dealing with it, it’s fine. it’s going great, only because you’ve learned to get used to it. it was either that or to call everything off, and you don’t want that.

it’s a friday night and sae’s away for another match, this time in london, and you’re watching post-game interviews on your screen while you finish your pack of chips.

they finally get to sae, throwing the normal obligatory questions like how he feels after winning the match, how he feels like being the man of the match. until they start asking personal questions like who he’d like to dedicate his win to.

he dodges the first few easily with vague answers. but then they get even more personal.

“so, itoshi, rumours have it that you’ve been in a long-term relationship now, is that true?”

you freeze up hearing the question, noticing how sae momentarily looks to the right before he rolls his eyes and turns back to the interviewer.

“maybe,” he answers, and you’re surprised. that’s the first time he’s probably not listened to his publicist.

“now who is this lucky lady?”

sae sighs, “that’s a secret.”

his interview ends there as he retreats back into the locker room, your phone vibrating almost immediately after.

one day i’m gonna show you off to everyone.

you smile as you type your response.

sure you want the whole world to know you belong to me?

you expect a retort about how it’s the other way around, but he does one better.

fuck yes.

“you make me lose my goddamn mind.”

you’re both comfortable, twenty-three and lounging in sae’s apartment, curled up in the couch, fingers intertwined and spending a lazy sunday in.

it’s right smack in the middle of his break and you’ve got him to yourself for four entire months. it’s been good, so good.

everyday you’re reminded of why you love him, of why he’s yours. the way he pulls you back against him in the mornings when you wake up. the way he says your name when he’s sleepy, the raspiness in his voice known only to you.

“hey, i’m heading out for a while,” he tells you, slipping on his slides and unlocking the door.

that’s how it usually goes; you’re still not allowed to admit to your relationship, even if sae has hinted at being in a committed relationship. what his publicist considers as minimising risks is that both of you shouldn’t be seen out in public together. that’s why you’re having fun nights out at odd hours and being romantic in private.

sae often just leaves in the middle of the day, some alone time and maybe get some groceries since you can’t let yourself be seen leaving his apartment. it’s not an ideal situation, but you’ll take it. the last thing you want to do is make his life harder.

while he’s gone, you do the chores—make the bed, defrost some chicken breasts, vacuum, maybe wash the laundry. he’s doing his best to learn the right way to do chores (because one time when you asked him to help vacuum he ended up vacuuming the bathroom too), but you find it’s easier if you just do them instead.

usually he comes back by now, takes about a half an hour because his apartment is nestled in the centre of town, surrounded by all the stores and amenities he could need. but you stare at the clock.

it’s been an hour and a half, what’s he up to?

sae doesn’t even respond when you text him. right as you’re about to call him, worried, you hear his keys jangling and the door opening.

you expected to find him carrying a huge bag of groceries with the amount of time he was gone, but he’s empty-handed and you’re starting to think maybe he was hounded by paparazzi.

“did you have trouble with some press?” you ask innocently, mop in your hand.

sae sighs, “fuck no, thank god.” he toes off his slides and tosses his keys on the dining table, taking his cap off and tousling his hair. his pretty pretty reddish brown locks.

“oh, then where’d you go?”

sae smirks at you this time, hiding something behind his back.

“what’re you up to, itoshi?”

he rolls his eyes because you only call him that when you’re afraid. “relax, baby,” he coos, inching closer to you and revealing what he’s holding.

sae’s holding up your keychain; a mini figurine of sae you got from one of the gift shops during his match. but you spot something that wasn’t there before—a key, painted black like the door to his apartment.

“sae?”

“this key’s yours.”

you blink at him, a little stupefied. “sae, did you get lost while trying to find the key copy place?”

sae clicks his tongue, annoyed. “shut up, do you want this or not?” by the way he’s all red, he did get lost.

you take the key from him, suppressing a grin. “aw thanks, now i can let myself in.”

sae sighs again, “i’m asking you to move in, stupid.”

“y-you want me to move in here?”

“yes.”

“like, you want to see my face everytime you wake up and before you go to bed?”

“yeah.”

“you want me to live here with you, together?”

“yes and if you ask anymore i’ll take it back.” because sae’s aware that you’re asking out of disbelief—he loves his alone time yet here he is, asking you to be with him whenever he’s back home. which isn’t that hard to believe for him; you’re the only one he’d ever want to be alone together with.

you giggle, “okay okay, roomie.”

sae only sighs. “you make me lose my goddamn mind.”

“i don’t want this anymore.”

it’s your fault, it’s all your fault.

sae’s publicist is at the house, screaming at the top of his lungs, and by sae’s unamused expression, he’s not having it. he’s just controlling himself so he doesn’t end up getting a lawsuit filed against him for employee abuse.

“who thinks it’s safe to go out wearing their boyfriend’s jersey, which isn’t even for sale yet by the way,” he rants, staring straight at you, “and go down and buy a birthday cake on his birthday and take it up to his apartment, all while knowing that the press is gonna be camping outside the complex?”

he makes you feel stupid.

sae steps in front of you, his broad shoulders the only thing making you feel safe from his publicist’s constant attack. “you yell at my girl one more time and you’re done,” sae threatens, managing to get his publicist to storm out of the house.

apparently, sae had a big endorsement deal all planned with the one stipulation being that he had to appear a bachelor up until the stunt was over. and now his publicist’s mad because that’s all down the drain and his commissions are gone.

“hey, you okay?” sae asks you, gently, and you can’t bring yourself to look at him.

you’re fine, you’ll get over it. it’s just what his publicist said that gets in your head.

it’s like you’re trying to ruin his deals.

being with a famous pro player comes with some form of caution, you know that right?

she’s just in the fucking way!

weeks pass and it’s not easier to drown out the voices. sae’s good at it, so he’s already moved past it, resumes work as per usual, assumes you’re okay too because of the multitude of times you insisted that you are.

but really? it’s fucking difficult.

if you thought you were insecure before everyone knew about you, it’s ten times worse now. while the majority of people are nice about it, saying wonderful stuff like how the two of you are so sweet and look so good together, there’s still so many people who shit on you.

wait, i thought he was with that model from that one shoot? damn, he got the short end of the stick with his gf lol

lmaooo what a downgrade from that other soccer star he was dating

@itosae you okay, dude? you blind or something?

there’s a lot more than that. a lot. some of them even found your account, messaged you directly and said some less-than-nice things.

you keep it all from sae, though. the last thing you need to do is distract him any further, especially when he has the champions’ league coming up.

“i’m fine, mom,” you say one night when your mother calls to check up on you. “i promise.”

you’re a bad daughter, keeping these from your mother who’s just concerned. she isn’t convinced, but she hangs up anyway afterwards, telling you to rest.

it’s easy for things to spiral when you keep them all to yourself. the voices in your head that belongs to sae’s disgruntled fans growing louder, drowning out the words of affection sae tells you everyday.

until one day you think you can’t take it anymore.

they’re all telling you that you’re not good enough, that you’re just a burden. his publicist is nowhere near your side, instead silently siding with the fans who berate you. sae’s oblivious to it all, you think, because he doesn’t do anything about it.

one day you’re just sitting side by side, watching a movie, sae’s arm around your shoulders, his fingers idly twirling your hair.

“sae, we need to talk.”

like the lover he is, he pauses the movie, adjusting himself to look at you. “yeah, what is it?” he’s smiling at you because he has no idea what’s coming.

and you know, you know if you tell him what you really think that it won’t work, so you put on your best game face. truth be told, you’d been building up to this moment anyway, purposely telling him you’d be busy whenever he’s back from his games just so you won’t spend time together. it was all to give him the illusion that you just weren’t interested anymore, no matter how fucked up that sounds.

“i don’t want this anymore.”

sae furrows his brows. “what? what’s this?”

you sigh, feigning frustration. “this, sae. us. i don’t want this anymore.”

“why not?”

“because i’m tired. i’m tired of dating someone who’s half here and half not, i’m tired of tolerating your stupid habits, i’m tired of being with you, sae.” you’re raising your voice, but sae doesn’t flinch. his expression doesn’t even change. you’re beginning to think you broke him, made him malfunction.

when sae doesn’t say anything, you continue.

“i want to break up.”

sae looks away from you, at the patch of rug on the floor beside him, jaw clenched. he blinks a few times before he looks back at you.

“no.”

now it’s your turn to be confused. “w-what?”

sae tilts his head to the side, concern etched in his expression. “i said no, y/n,” he repeats, sighing. he puts his forefinger under your chin, his thumb caressing the side of your face. “who are you trying to fool?”

“i-i mean what i said, sae.”

you’re in disbelief. you hate how he knows you better than anyone else, maybe better than yourself, and you’re beginning to realise no one can come close to sae for you.

“so you don’t love me anymore? don’t wanna be my girl anymore?” he asks, but it’s redundant because he knows the answers. “i love you, okay? and i’d be a shit boyfriend if i let you go like this.”

you’re speechless, so you don’t say a thing, just sit awkwardly in front of him while for the first time in his life, he resolves to being there for you.

“look, i don’t know what mean things people are saying online, but fuck them,” he tells you.

“sae, it’s not easy,” you sniffle.

“then talk to me, and stop shutting me out, you idiot,” he chastises, and you find yourself falling onto him. “i fired my publicist too, by the way. couldn’t stand him spouting shit about you even after i told him to shut the fuck up.”

you laugh at his exasperation, your chest somehow feeling lighter.

“and, do me a favor? ignore the mean comments, yeah?” sae tells you, softer this time. “i kinda don’t ever wanna lose you, so.” he has his head resting on top of yours, your fingers intertwined and your heart soaring.

until now, you’d thought it’d be easy to drive sae away. you thought if you’d been enough of a nuisance, an eyesore, that he’d just take your word for it and run, that he’d throw a fit and let you leave.

but he doesn’t.

sae stays. and he tells you to stay. because he doesn’t know much about laundry, or how to handle feelings, but what he knows is how to love you. he knows what you need and he knows what you’re thinking, even if he doesn’t necessarily tell you about it.

and sae is a bitch to the world. he’s not the friendliest to fans nor does he care about making friends or enemies.

but to you, he’s everything. he says no to either of you straying and he says yes to whatever you ask except when it doesn’t make sense and you never knew that this was the beauty of being with someone who wants you—in every sense of the word.

there’s a certain threshold to pass before you can see everything clearly. suddenly it’s like the mean voices are faded into the background, and suddenly sae’s love is all you hear, and nothing is blurred because now all you can think about is how even if the world fails you, sae never will.

“hey, sae?”

“mhm?”

“thank you.”

he smiles against your head and you can feel it. “i love you, stupid.”

and you love him; recognising your handwriting and sweeping you off your feet. you love him; braving your parents, living his dreams. you love him; protecting you and showing up at your door. you love him; bashful yearning and unwavering emotions.

so you kiss him in response, and that’s all he needs to know that you’re with him for life.

#itoshi sae x reader #bllk x reader #sae x reader #blue lock x reader #sae itoshi x reader #itoshi sae fluff #itoshi sae imagines #blue lock fluff #blue lock imagines #bllk fluff #sae itoshi x you #sae itoshi x y/n #bllk x you #bllk x y/n #sae x you #sae x y/n #૪ aeri’s fics !

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livlaughloveluke · 23 days

Note

underwater moments w/ Poseidon!reader x Luke

𝗦𝗔𝗧𝗨𝗥𝗡 - 𝗟.𝗖

daughter of poseidon! reader x luke castellan 🪸

[headcannons]

summary: you’re dating the famous hermes boy 💘

warnings: no betrayal luke 🥳, percy is a lil bro, fem reader, not all of these are underwater moments

a/n- i’m back for now guys!!

sneaking out for starlit swims !!

you and luke spend your nights secretly swimming under the dark waters of camp half-blood, while the moon grazes the surface and turns the black depths glittery. you and him try to remain quiet, but how could you resist laughter when he almost accidentally drowned, twice?!

the famous underwater kisses <3

with little privacy at the kid-filled camp, you and luke rarely found moments alone. all you had time for were sneaky, quick kisses in between planned activities. as a child of poseidon, you found a way to solve this intimate problem—underwater kisses. creating an air bubble under the lake allowed for a moment with no curious glances—at least from most. (the fishies and a certain pesky brother often interrupt)

going pearl diving!

luke likes to sunbathe in the gleaming sun, resting on the docks while you splash around in the blue lake. you dive down deep, searching for the prettiest pearls underwater and placing him on the wood surface next to him. this could go on for hours, you entertained by the adventure and luke just happy to be in your presence. the next day, luke graciously gifted you a gorgeous necklace made with the pearls you excavated.

surfing and paddle boarding 🏄‍♀️

while the calm waters don’t offer many waves, every once in a while you like to manipulate the liquid so you can surf. not to mention, you love to instruct luke, too. he’s not the best, but he’s willing to give anything a try. (if we’re being honest, he hates it. he hates constantly falling off the board and sharply coming into contact with the water, but he’d do anything if it meant you were happy.)

in contrast, he loves to paddle board with you. it’s more gentle, and he can actually talk to you while in the water.

the olive theory! (but with cherries)

definitelyyyy the type of guy to pretend he doesn’t like cherries just because he knows you love them more. every morning at breakfast, he slides you his small fruit cup with only the cherries remaining, and you eat it up every time. unbeknownst to you, he’s only doing this to see you smile. he loves the way your lips curl up into a smile when you eat them, the juices staining your lips with a shade of red. he would give up anything to see you smile like that.��

carrying a waterproof digital camera around 📸

he loves loves LOVES to take photos of you! whether your swimming in the lake or picking strawberries in the fields, he’s by your side with the camera directed towards you. he’s the number one candid picture taker! and when you ask why, he usually presents you with some dumb excuse or pickup line to conceal the fact that he’s totally whipped for you.

“ew, stoppp! i look so bad right now! why do you like taking so many photos anyway?”

“dunno. you’re the subject of all my dreams, sweetheart.”

late night beach bonfires

singing, laughing, and cuddling by the warmth of a campfire with all your friends is a weekly occurrence for you and luke. it feels like you’re both just normal teens, living life with no fear of monsters attacking or angry greek gods. plus, he makes BOMB s’mores.

CHAOTIC game nights with percy

attempting to play charades with your little brother, but overall he just gets mad and rage quits because you couldn’t guess the word. oh, and we can’t forget the craziest uno nights. you and percy arguing over the rules while luke just stands awkwardly in the corner.

“you can’t place a draw two on a draw four! it doesn’t work that way!”

“yes you can!! suck it up and draw your six cards!”

“uh, guys…? 🧍‍♂️”

the annual cabin decoration contest ! (yes, i made this up)

when that time rolls around, you and percy are DETERMINED to have the best cabin. you hang up seashells, scatter around the prettiest dried coral on shelves, and buy fairy lights for a cozy atmosphere. luke watches from afar as you and percy playfully argue whether a lana del rey poster would “fit the theme.” to be fair, it was a tunnel under OCEAN blvd poster.

[luke masterlist] ★ [request here] ★ [poseidon moodboard]

#luke castellan #luke castellan headcanons #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan blurb #liv’s writing !#liv yaps

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tteokdoroki · 1 year

Text

*ੈ🌩️‧₊˚— after sickness, after health + sae itoshi.

૮˶ᵕ ༝ᵕ˶ა synopsis — your ex husband is a menace. married or not, you'll always belong to him.

⭑ warnings — please read + mdni ! characters aged up to 20s, smut, angst, divorce, custody battles, you have kids, cheating (with sae lol), manipulation, possesion, slight yandere if you squint, dub-con, tummy bulges, hold the moan, spit!kink, drunk sex, unprotected sex, toxic relationships, previously established relationships, mentions of arguments, ex husband + pro player!sae, fem!reader - not beta read !

⭑ words — 1.5K.

⭑ notes — hello... i was not meant to write this but,, i fear i cannot escape the bllk brain rot lmao !! sorry if he's ooc or too mean but i hope u like it ily guys mwah <3 - m.list ✩

oooo ex husband!sae is so annoying, jarring, he’s horrible.

the divorce is somewhat amicable. both of you pretend it is. you were young and in love but now you’re growing out of affectionate shoes that are too small for you now. it hurts. but you pretend.

ex husband!sae takes what’s his and you take what’s yours. sae doesn’t want what you have and what he gave you — being the big bread winner he was, you keep the house and the cars, the expensive wedding gifts his parents sent from abroad. pity presents, he calls them. he doesn’t want you to be out on your own.

the only thing you and ex husband!sae fight over are the kids — it’s a long and drawn out battle. very messy with tears on your end begging him to call it even and take the deal your lawyer offers up so that the public stops tearing you down. he likes that you’ve called him against the wishes of your lawyers, you’re coming to him as his ex-wife — pleading with him in that way that makes his lips quirk up in a cruel smile because it’s been so long since ex husband!sae heard you beg for him like that.

maybe the custody battle was only to drag you through the mud, make you hurt a little bit so you remember ex husband!sae for the rest of your life. the time you spend with kids is split down the middle.

ex husband!sae hears it from one of your little girls on the way back from their ballet class that mommy is seeing someone new. your other daughter likes him a lot, says he gets them ice cream on the weekends where you have them. and sure enough, your ex doesn’t like that, a weird and sick sense of possession curling around his heart and lungs because you’re not supposed to have been able to move on from sae. you’re only supposed to be happy with him.

ex husband!sae who invites himself over to dinner with your girls on the night he knows that your new boy toy will be there. a sense of pride washes over him as he takes in your expression when you open the front door to him; your eyes wide, pretty lips parted in a delicate ‘o’ — you look as though you might cry, asking him if he’s here for the girls and blinking quick when he says he wants to join the four of you for dinner. he watches the curve of your ass as you lead him inside, wanting to rip that little apron right off of you and make you his again in front of your boyfriend.

the kitchen is cramped with both men politely arguing over how to make the girls’ favourite dinner while they watch bluey out in the living room — paying no mind to the tension building down the hall. your boyfriend seems uncomfortable with how comfortable ex husband!sae is in your space. he knows where the spices are, how you like to wash the dishes as you go along, the way you set the dinner table. your stress runs high as sae flits through your home, after all he did live here once too.

your boyfriend puts his hand on your shoulder. sae smiles when you shrug him off.

the polite yet snide comments continue when your girls are seated for their meals. ex husband!sae makes it known that your current partner has no place at the table, that he could never have you because you’re too loyal to the routine and life that you know. you turn to the fancy bottle of red wine sae bought with him as stress relief.

you’re slightly tipsy when ex husband!sae puts your children to bed — he stops on the creaky stairs because he can hear you drunkenly argue with your boyfriend about tonight’s events and he can’t help but feel as if he’s won. your boyfriend doesn’t think that sae should be around, that he’s bad for you, for the girls too for picking fights in front of them. and like the loyal little thing you are, you defend your ex-husband because he’s a good father and he takes care of you. he always has.

sae only steps in when he sees you getting upset, crumbling under the weight of the evening, the stress of being a single mother with someone who doesn’t understand it the way your ex does. no one else should have the power to make you cry like the midfielder does. that’s sae’s job. the steps of the stairs groan under the weight of his footsteps as sae trudges down them — intervening when you flinch away from your boyfriend who’s raised his voice at you in an attempt to get you to see that ex husband!sae is bad for you.

you screw your eyes shut and clench your fists, not intoxicated enough to fail to gently remind your current partner. “please don’t yell at me.”

you sound so hurt by the argument and that only serves to piss sae off.

“i can take care of her from here,” ex husband!sae brushes past your boyfriend to pull your swaying frame into his chest — sweeping in like your knight in shining armour and ushering the man out of his house with a sick smirk. “i think you should leave.” your boyfriend says he’ll text you later on, no doubt, with the intention to smooth things over while he still feels threatened by your pro-football player ex. but you don’t find the time to respond when later does eventually come around.

because later that night, you give into your urges and succumb to familiarity where ex husband!sae has your knees pressed into your shoulders and your hot cunt wrapped around his shaft — milking him so good like you always have. like you’re meant to be. the midfielder shudders above you, listening out for the squelching symphony your sex sings for him as he fucks you nice and slow. sae fills you up until you can feel his cock in your lungs, dragging his milky pre along your walls as if it’s his signature on your body.

the older itoshi brother would be lying if he said he didn’t miss you, your body, your kisses. the way you dreamily echo his name like it’s a prayer every time he angles his cock to hit your sweet spots. you find his hands within the messy sheets, the slickness of your heat making it easier for sae to grind himself into you. he feels lightheaded with ecstasy, his grunts turning to deep rooted moans as he swoops down to kiss you with tongue — a poor attempt to silence your squeals since your girls are sleeping just down the hall.

the bed that you used to share betrays you, crying from underneath the languid push and pull of your bodies working together for orgasm. ex husband!sae is torn between capturing your teary face in the now and reminiscing all the times he’d fucked you or made love to you against these very sheets. the thought of your new boyfriend doing the same makes him hotter, makes him move faster — slurring and spitting his praises into your eager mouth as his balls clap against the curve of your ass and the crude mix of precum and your juices tie sae itoshi to you.

licking into his mouth, you lift a hand to curl into sae’s roots and tug hard in the way that he likes. “sae,” you mewl, breathless and bambi eyed. “feel s’fuckin’ good. hah! d-don’t stop, m-missed you!”

“don’t tell me what to do, ‘couldn’t stop even if you begged for it.” sweat beads on ex husband!sae’s forehead and he closes his eyes, hips stuttering even though they piston into yours. he can’t tell if you actually miss him or if it’s the sex that’s making you feel this way — and quite frankly, he’s in the same boat. he hooks your thighs over his shoulders and presses the entirety of his body over yours, putting all of his energy in to deep, long strokes that make you choke on your words and gush sweet and clear streams around the base of his throbbing cock.

“you feel me here, love?” your ex husband!sae, asks, magenta hair flopping over his eyes — his hips flush against your puffy clit as your juices pearl along side it. he gives you a rough thrust, fucking you like it’s your wedding night all over again and he hasn’t made the last few months of your life a living hell. like he loves you. “c’mon baby, pay attention. can’t believe you’re so shameless, letting me have you like this again. do you feel me?” sae presses down on your tummy where his thick dick bulges, the sensation making the whites of your eyes visible as they roll back into your skull.

you nod, delirious with desire, pussy trapping your ex husband inside of you. “y-yes, sae! f-feel you!”

“good, because i belong here, sweetheart,” ex husband!sae coos, an evil spark haunting his aquamarine eyes. “i’m the only one who ever gets to fuck you here. because no matter what happens — you’ll always be mine and i’ll always be yours.”

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marycorcaroli · 7 months

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sub!luffy x fem!reader

dom!fem!reader with sub!luffy? hmmm..

req ♡ : sub!luffy getting fucked silly by another captain of a rival crew who's also trying to find the one piece, and luffy being all needy and stupid.

mary ♡ : thanks for the request and sorry if it was too long ! 💌 i hope you enjoy everything, i tried really hard ! love luffy too much <3

english is not my first language, i apologize for my mistakes ♡

rules ; masterlist

your hips keep pounding against luffy's thighs, ignoring his pleas to stop, because he can't cum anymore, but can he? his cock is throbbing inside you, and legs are trying to pound into you themselves to fill you all over.

"y/n, please make me feel good, only you can do that, ah-h" luffy tried to say something intelligible, but nothing came out, it felt too good that his brain refused to think. he didn't remember how many times he had cum, three, four or five? you clouded his mind, he could only think about you and your soft cunnie that was so right for his big cock.

you picked up your pace with each passing second, realizing that you were close to orgasm, but it wasn't your plan to show that to luffy, you just needed a map and some information about the one piece, but instead you were bouncing on some strange boy whose cock surprised you as much as he did.

"your body was made for me, wasn't it sweetie? i know just what to do to make you cum like you've never cum before, hehe." your lips descended on luffy's nipples, leaving wet kisses on them and lifting up to his chin "just tell me anything i want to hear and i'll even let you cum inside me, isn't that a gift, darling?"

when you stopped you felt luffy's hands grasp you sharply and his eyes became glassy, he started to cry and tried to make you resume your pace, but you continued to sit and wait for the answer to your question, running your finger over the places where you had left your marks for everyone else, with your claw you left the name of your team, that's how everyone would know whose slut luffy really was.

yours.

he was your whore from the first moment you met him, at the bar, the night you sought out zoro and offered to join you, but he was a son of a bitch and left you to your own devices until a strange guy came along and tried to hit on you.

"you want zoro? join my team and he'll be with you all the time." his cocky grin threw you off balance, but it was time for luffy to get scared as your hand grabbed his cock through his clothes and began to massage it gradually.

"yes, i want zoro, but now i want to destroy you even more." your hot breath on luffy's neck gave him goosebumps, he was lost in space and didn't realize what was going on, but he knew one thing for sure, he wanted you to fuck him in the dirtiest way possible.

as you replayed the memories in your head, you didn't hear the pleading along with luffy's whimpering, he was like a little kid, but wanting your cunnie very badly.

"y/n? p-p..lease i'm.. begging you, s-start moving and i'll tell you everything you want, i'll let you get to the one piece, j-just, fuck it all out of me." his eyes were like puppy dog eyes, it was impossible to refuse them, but you didn't want to, did you? after all, when else would you have just an obedient boy who would do anything for your pussy.

your gentle palm touched his cheek and slowly traced down the whole side of his face, and your eyes stayed on luffy's eyes, you wanted to see how pathetic he'd become in just one night and you were the reason why.

with a quick motion you planted luffy and slowly began to move in time to his hips.

"you look great when you're begging for something, all sweaty and red eyed, i'm going to make you feel good baby, but after this you're not likely to be able to walk or think properly." throwing him back on the pillows and squeezing his fingers tightly, your pace began to quicken again, and luffy's moans grew louder and louder.

it was a delight to your ears, knowing that he was only like that for you, only you see him that way, but or not really....

you didn't notice zoro with his red cock in his hand, he was watching you and jerking off, but he also wants to feel himself inside you or luffy, he hadn't decided yet, but he knew that you and him could destroy luffy with your dirty words and endless orgasms.

#one piece #one piece live action #one piece x reader #one piece x you #inaki godoy #inaki godoy x reader #luffy #luffy imagine #monkey d. luffy #luffy x reader #luffy x y/n #luffy smut #one piece smut #sub!luffy #nonnie's req <3 #mary ♡

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nnnyxie · 8 months

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kuroo, atsumu, osamu, bokuto, ushijima, & kenma with a chubby s/o (i added ken as a little treat [lowkey to myself..])

(pretty & beautiful are used, could be considered suggestive)

(requested by @starrbright)

kuroo tetsuro ;

as much as i love to slander him— he is a true romantic and will treat you like you’re a higher being.

he doesn’t care if you’re chubby or not. he’s the type of guy to say “that just means there’s more of you to love” (which is lowkey kinda cute, he’s so dumb)

i hate him (affectionate). he just adores you and loves your to hold your stomach and hips (he will whisper awful pick up lines in your ear while holding you though [he’s such a loser /aff]). he just can’t get enough of you, he’s constantly touching you, it’s a spectrum of linking pinkies to yk..

anyways… he’s always showering you in affection and gifts. takes you to specific stores that have plus sized clothing. to be more specific, expensive plus sized stores. he makes you try on everything. yk how men do that whole manspread thing?? yeah, he does that on the couches near the dressing rooms and does that little finger whirl to make you twirl (that rhymes).

he’s always telling you how beautiful you are to him and how breathtaking you are. he’s so in love with you it makes him look stupid (affectionate).

he’s ALWAYS bragging to his friends about you and telling all of his coworkers that he has the prettiest partner (he’s so dumb, i love him)

miya atsumu ;

is he a major asshole? yes. but does that extend to you? absolutely not.

he’s another absolute LOSER (affectionate). he’s so in love with you. you could stab him and he’d thank you. i strongly believe he’s very into thick/chubby people. he loves laying on your thighs or stomach.

ngl when you first heard about how he was in high school, you were vv uncomfortable w/ him because you thought he’d treat you the same (even though you’re MSBY’s manager)

so you didn’t interact with him unless it was to pass out towels/water bottles or go over notes (which you tried to get that over with quickly). and it kinda pissed him off cause he thought you were so pretty (it’s physically painful how attractive you are to him).

he decided to confront you one day. the team was in the locker room, yk just doing their thing, and he was finally able to get you alone. so he strides on over to you (like the loser he is) and asks why you avoid him. and obviously you hesitate but he kept pushing for an answer. when you told him, he was genuinely stunned. he stutters out how he’s sorry he made you feel that way and offers to take you to a restaurant as a way to start new (aka he tricked you into going on a date).

anyways— after a few more ‘hang outs’ of getting to know each other, he finally asks you on a proper date (osamu made him. he said that atsumu couldn’t just keep tricking you to going on dates. atsumu protested) (ps if u got boobs, he’ll squish em HARD so beware)

miya osamu ;

my LORD he loves chubby people. you CANNOT change my mind !!!!!

okay okay so…….. he met you at a farmer’s market <3 you had a booth and you were selling his favorite seasonings !!! he didn’t really LOOK at you until he went to pay for his spices and good LORD he basically drooled all over himself.

he whimpered a little… your curves made him feel a teensy bit crazy. and when you spoke?? when you laughed at a corny joke about seasonings?? he fell in love right then and there.

he asked for your number after the small conversation and invited you to try his food at his restaurant. when you realized he was the owner of onigiri miya, you were kind of shocked. you only ever ordered online. plus, i mean— you only got his first name. but that’s besides the point

anyways, you would have cooking/dinner dates and afterwards you’d just cuddle, yk cutesy stuff. he always made it a point to hold all of you or at least most of you. (he just loves touching you)

he has his hands on you whenever he can and he’ll squeeze whatever part of you he could. his favorite though— your butt and thighs. but sometimes he’ll squeeze them too hard and you’ll have to pinch him.

bokuto koutaro ;

okay so— let’s say you work at onigiri miya. you’re the sweet new employee that the team has yet to meet (aside from shitty [/aff] atsumu).

the moment he walks through that door and sees you, it’s like one of those cheesy romcoms where the main character sees a glow around you and everything is in slow motion. brows up, eyes wide, mouth agape, face red. he’s genuinely in awe of you. (atsumu notices and makes sure to get a seat in your serving area)

when you come to bring them their food, bokuto is so nervous— his palms are sweaty and his whole face is red. at first you thought that maybe he was red because he was upset about not getting the other server (yk like red in the face anger??).

he ends up asking for your number at the end of his meal. you thought that maybe it was a joke cause, well, he’s a big ass athlete and usually those people don’t go for your type (which is so stupid bc chubby people are <3 [they’re very much my type]). but those thoughts left when you saw how nervous he was about it. this 190+ cm man was shaking because he was so nervous (it was cute).

he definitely messages you as soon as he leaves. he ends up calling you later that night, just so he could ask to take you out on a date (poor guy was too nervous to ask when he saw you) (the date went well and was very nice).

he’s very physically affectionate so expect his constant need for touch. when you’re both sitting, he likes to hold your thigh. especially when he’s driving (yk like— the one hand on the wheel, one hand on your thigh thing). he also loves to hold your hips and squeeze them. he says it gives him energy— doesn’t make sense but okay !

ushjima wakatoshi ;

he’s like— a chubby chaser but also not?? if that makes sense???

anyways !! i’d like to think you two have been together since the end of high school <3 you guys met through tendou in your first year (he was totally setting you two up) and oddly became fast friends. then he asked you out after the karasuno match (you were comforting him and the question just came out on it’s own. like he was thinking about being with you and his mouth said something before his brain could comprehend).

so yes, you’ve been together for a looong while.

he unintentionally brags about you. like— the adlers will ask why he declines their invitations to go out sometimes and he’ll say “my partner is making dinner at home. they’re very good, i’d rather have their food. restaurants don’t make food as good as theirs” but that ends up in the adlers coming to your house to try your food. (a warning would’ve been nice)

speaking of food and when you’re cooking— he loves to hold you while you do so. he’ll squish your stomach and hips (his favorite parts) while swaying to the music that’s playing (maybe you got soul and r&b playing [i am currently fixated on lauryn hill so bare with me]) it can get a little annoying (i like cooking alone so,,, yeah) but he’s very sweet and cute and amazing, so he gets a pass.

mmmm this man loves to cuddle, i just know it. he loves the position where like— half of his body is draped over you and he has his head on your chest cause it lets him touch his favorite parts of you.

kozume kenma ;

he doesn’t care what you look like. if you have a good personality then that’s all that matters to him.

when he’s gaming, he likes to sit on the floor in front of you so that he’s in between your thighs and they sort of rest on his shoulders. which can be dangerous because sometimes he’ll get so excited and try to jump up but drags you off the couch/bed.

whenever you’re playing games (maybe you’re taking turns??) he’ll turn himself (yes, he’s still on the floor) and rest his head between your thighs or lays his head on one of them. sometimes he’ll lay on the couch/bed so he could hug your waist (i like to think he’s clingy when he’s close w/ someone).

he’ll brag about you on his stream and taunt kuroo for not having a partner yet. he’ll actually be so mean to kuroo saying shit like “you’re the only cat at a horse orgy party” (they have such a beautiful friendship)

he also likes to sit in your lap (i wanna cradle him… i think i have issues??) and usually faces towards you when he does

he’s a BITER!!!!! if he’s ever laying on your lap or sitting between your legs— he’ll just fuckin bite you. when he has his head on your stomach??? CHOMP. when you’re cooking or putting dishes away?? shoulder bite. he’s just the type of guy to bite as a way of showing affection (me too tho ???)

my boys <3

sorry this took so long!!

#haikyuu x reader #kuroo x reader #atsumu x reader #osamu x reader #bokuto x reader #ushijima x reader #kenma x reader #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu x chubby reader #hq x reader #hq x chubby reader #/ᐠ - ˕ -マ works — ♡︎

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kneelingshadowsalome · 10 months

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Just Friends (König x F!Reader)

How to Tell Her You Love Her 3/4 (Word count 4.5 k)

Summary: König is a horny, creepy killing machine obsessed with a shy, kind reader who has a raging knife kink.

Tags/warnings: 🔞 Eventual smut, eventual violence, angst, dark romance, canon divergence. Crack treated seriously. Yandere undertones, implied stalking, panty stealing, major character death, size kink, voyeurism, possessive sex, twisted, fluffy feelings. Loner boy/gentle girl dynamic. Protective!Obsessive!Top!König. Reader works as a cleaner at the base. She is described to have hair and prefers to wear dresses off work. Not safe or sane but mostly consensual.

A/N: Finally I can share the rest of this crazy story with you guys! Chapter 4/4 will be posted right after this one. Also if you haven't yet seen @shizukaay0 's amazing fanart for this fic, go take a look, it's steamy!

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

She wakes up next morning only to find König gone.

The restless night nearly makes her sleep in, and when she notices that the man has left while she was still sleeping, something twists like a blade inside her stomach. She throws the covers off, scours the room with her stare, and notices a note and a small sunflower on the bedside table.

He has left his knife – or one of them – here too. Another gift.

The steel is dark, nearly black; the handle olive green, with sturdy finger grooves and a heavy guard to protect the fingers. The saw-toothed portion on the back of the blade gives the knife a look that most people would probably deem ugly. The blade is wide and ends in a vicious, fat tip that looks sharp enough to puncture flesh without having to apply much pressure.

She doesn't know what a Glock knife looks like, but this is exactly how she sees König: petrifying, big, and brutal. In her eyes, beautiful… Stunning.

The knife juts from the table and holds a note in place although there is no risk of wind to take it off.

Flower for my Engel

I'll see you tonight

The clumsy, hurried message immediately makes her smile. The disturbing thoughts from last evening are only an odd memory – his offerings make her insides glow with warm milk and honey, she feels silly, like summer – and the promise to come to her every night doesn't feel like a threat anymore, it feels… magical, a secret romantic meeting, something wild, something she has always avoided from fear of trying new things.

The floral dress on the floor doesn't appear as evidence of her ruining anymore. It's fairytale-like: that he leaves flowers and knives wherever he goes. The destroyed bra makes her almost giggle. When has a man ever done something like that to her in the heat of passion?

The night feels like another odd dream: König had barely fit to sleep in her bed, and she had barely fit to curl around him. He had slept like a baby, motionless and peaceful, while she woke up every few hours to admire him: to watch the slow pulse between his collarbones barely revealed by the hood and listen to the faint snore that stopped for the smallest moment when she brushed her fingertips over his stomach.

Her muscles ache from lying half on top of him all night. Changing position was out of the question because he held an arm of steel around her all night. Luckily, it prevented her from falling from the bed. But now her muscles were coated with pains of not getting enough sleep while being held in place by a giant for almost 9 hours. Not to talk of the fresh aches born from their activities before getting those precious few winks of sleep…

She goes to work that day with such an everlasting beam that people notice her. She's not entirely sure what has happened, but she is suddenly wildly alive, and blooming.

No one knows about her secret man, her secret, sturdy weapon. No one knows she is the one he comes to every night: the shy, invisible cleaner who has seduced the man whom everyone fears.

And they can keep their boring normalcy and dull decency. She has found something infinitely better.

He's her most precious secret from now on.

He comes to visit her in the break room in the middle of the day, and she's slightly surprised. She thought they would see each other only at night from now on.

She greets him with a smile, and he answers her delight with an amused twinkle in his eyes. He looks far more normal now that the tension is gone. It's suddenly easy to be in his company because they share a secret nobody else knows about.

"Hi… What are you doing here?"

Her shy smiles and the soft whisper should tell him that she doesn't object at all to this sort of intrusion. She might be a little obsessed now too.

"I had to see you," he says as if she's his priority from now on, and her heart feels lighter and lighter. He's equally as lovestruck as she, then.

"You look so beautiful."

She's walking in a dream again: this man calls her beautiful even when she's hidden in her cleaner uniform, stripped from her dresses and flowers and makeup. The only thing she has is her smile, really, but he's not any less adoring. She's being worshiped during her sleepy coffee break, in broad daylight, when she's dressed in dull, grimy working clothes… Who would've thought?

“Thank you,” she gives him another smile, and he moves to her; so close that she has to crane her neck to look up at him.

The kiss that follows is stolen but thoroughly consensual. She disappears inside his hood and smiles on his lips, which are far gentler now. It's a chaste little kiss that happens in darkness and in secret, like everything else between them.

"Will you come to me tonight…?" She asks as if the note wasn't promise enough that he would. He's far too decent, not even groping her this time, and it drives her crazy.

"Nothing could keep me from you," he answers straight into her mouth. His musk and the soap he uses – something breezy and pungent, tea tree, perhaps – surround her much like the hood.

"You can be on top this time. I want to see how you take it–"

"Shh…" She smiles, almost laughs at his libertine whispers. He's smiling, too.

"Don't worry. I'll do the heavy lifting if you're tired."

He retreats, the hood is taken away and her sight is filled with light and decency, but then his hands go around her waist and lift her from the ground. It's like she's flying, floating through the air before he sets her gently on the coffee table.

"Except that you're not heavy at all," he says, voice dark and thick from arousal. He moves to her neck, the hood-coated face roams up and down her throat as he moves to whisper more suggestions in her ear.

"Or you can take it in your mouth… Have you ever had a man in your mouth?"

Something tells her that if she were to say yes, it would deeply upset him. The hair on the back of her neck starts to tingle, and when she doesn't answer him, he continues.

"I could eat you at the same time. Would you like that?"

His voice is darker still, and it makes her bite her lip and grab his arm for support. Even the idea of a 69 with him is dizzying. She can barely breathe from the joy and wanting.

How is she supposed to continue her day when he pops up out of nowhere and talks such sweet filth in her ear?

"König…"

"And after that… We'll fuck until your legs shake."

"Stop," she laughs a hushed giggle in the fabric of his hood. "This is inappropriate…"

"Oh ja. I'm hard again."

Mmh.

"All your fault, Engel."

"You are incurable," she laughs.

"That's what they say."

Perhaps it's a joke, but the word they makes her briefly wonder if he has had this kind of affairs with other women, too. Perhaps she's not so special after all. The image of him fucking other women with abandon breeds a stale, bitter putrefaction in her stomach.

Has he called them angels too…?

Her hands are about his neck, but she has no memory of throwing them there. She wishes she could just dangle from him the rest of the day until he carries her to bed and does all the things he just promised he would do. Let her do all those things to him while he gets to watch – watch how well she can take him, ride him, suck him.

She makes a silent promise to herself and to him that she will be the special girl, no matter the cost.

"Do you want coffee? I just made some," she asks in hopes that he would stay for a little while longer even if he isn't supposed to be here in the social spaces of the maintenance personnel.

"Sure. I would love that."

The man wants his coffee dark, and it only makes her smile as she pours him that minimalistic, unsweetened beverage. She likes his knives dark, his hood dark, his shirts dark… Perhaps she should start wearing black dresses.

"You left your knife in my room."

"For you," he tilts his head a little, wanting to know if she likes his gift. Has he given knives to other women, too, after he's fucked them…?

"Thank you. It's incredible."

"Good combat knife," he nods. "Doesn't reflect light."

If someone was here with them right now, they would probably roll their eyes at how deranged this conversation is. What rotten lunatics they both were.

She’s completely flushed, and smiling like an idiot from receiving a fat, vile knife as a present after having been fucked into oblivion twice last night.

"Well, it reminds me of you."

He looks at her, searching for deceit or ridicule, but there is none.

"That's how you see me..?"

"Mm-hm," she hums with sudden lightness. "Incredible."

His eyes betray the same look he had when he came inside her last night: brief, fragile, naked hope. Her next smile is sadder because obviously, this guy didn't receive compliments often. She's watering a dry desert plant with a single, simple word, and his eyes light up like he's just received years and years worth of good care.

He steps forward and looks like he is finally about to sit at the table. The obsessed look has melted into pure adoration: it's even more knee-buckling than the possessive stare that has followed her for weeks.

One of the maintenance officers arrives to get a cup of coffee in a hurry; a man whose name she doesn't even care to remember, whose world seems to consist mainly of stress. He’s a typical, middle-aged, burned-out man who doesn't appear to remember how to cherish the little things – such as a good cup of coffee – but rushes by everyone and everything and blames them for his stress. She always feels pity for both people and inanimate objects that get to suffer from this man’s exhaustion.

But she doesn't even see him now: all she sees is the fierce operator who is not supposed to be here. The giant who looks at her equally as mesmerized, like everyone else has ceased to exist in this world.

The air is teeming with naked lust and barely contained, sweet hunger, but the poor officer is blind to all of that. A sudden warmth gushes on her chest as the man bumps into her while rushing by with his overfilled coffee mug. She might as well be invisible again, and the hot liquid burns, but it has no power to make her angry or sad.

“Oh–excuse me,” she chirps with a dreamy smile on her face when it’s all his fault that she has coffee all over her shirt.

Before the man gets to the door, König grabs him by the collar and hurls him against the wall. She doesn’t even catch the knife before it plunges inside a round stomach like the worker is merely a balloon to be punctured.

The blade comes away all red, then disappears into the flesh again, and again and again… She loses count after six; the knife sails inside the same hole like he’s fucking the man with the blade. The slick sounds remind her of their intense love-making last night, they taint the passion in the most twisted way.

More hot coffee ends up splashing on her thighs before the sound of a mug smashing into tiny little pieces on the floor tells her that all innocence is lost.

Her gaze is glued to the black and red mush that used to be a polo shirt and a stomach: the man stays upright only because he is not allowed to collapse to the ground. But after a few seconds that seem to last hours, he is shoved to the floor in a sad heap.

She’s still staring at the now dead man when König takes a small step toward her. It occurs to her that both her palms are over her mouth only after she raises her eyes to his, and sees that he had expected some other reaction than this.

Her hands won’t descend; they try to keep all her horror inside, try to reassure her that this is only a dream, she hasn’t woken up yet, and the relief will be immense once she does.

But that never happens.

It’s real, and she would give anything to go only a few minutes back in time where the man was still alive and König was not everything she always feared he was.

He is looking at her with bewildered confusion, then the corner of his eye twitches, just once. He forces the blade back into its sheath without wiping the blood off: a telltale sign that he is more than thrown off balance.

Her horror and disgust escort him out the door in a tornado-like state, and she is left alone with two spilled coffees and a bleeding corpse, wondering who will clean the mess because she cannot for her life do it.

. . . . . .

The shock leaves her body cold and weak as she sits on a bench in the hallway, too distracted to carry on with her day, too afraid to go into her lonely room. It feels safer to remain in a public space, even if people who pass her by look at her with pity and confusion.

She cried her eyes and heart out after the shaking receded. She understands now why shock is such a dangerous state to be in. She always thought it a lie that people could die from shock, but not anymore.

Other people cleaned the mess, after the investigation. How she was able to stay so calm and collected during the questioning is a miracle on its own. What came after was an empty, bleak abyss.

She’s still staring at the floor after the buzzing around her quiets down. Minutes or hours pass by, the work day is over, steps fade away, doors close, people leave.

“Now now… What's the matter here lass?”

It’s the Scottish dude, unbearably benign, and looking like he’s actually caring about why she looks so devastated.

So, the other operators haven’t yet heard.

She doubts if König will receive much more than a scolding for what he did, high-ranked and fiercely dedicated to his work as he is. The man’s simply too valuable to be thrown away. They will just blow enough money to cover this shit right up.

This is not a regular army, and these are not regular people.

Soap sits down next to her, and she doesn’t even mind. At least he’s normal. At least something in this world is still intact, and smiling kindly.

"König did–König did something terrible."

She snobs and snivels, nose clogged and numb, eyes still burning from the tears. Soap looks at her with unadulterated concern, then pity. His brows knit together and he swallows before sighing profoundly.

"Right. What did he do now?"

When she only continues to stare at the floor, Soap raises a hand and starts to rub her back. Rather forcefully, to make it clear that he's not making a pass at her.

“Did he do something to you?”

She shakes her head slowly, because technically, it’s the truth. He didn’t knife her down.

Soap doesn’t ask any further questions. He must know without telling that König has done something bad, something fucking foul even if she hasn't been at the receiving end of it.

"Wanna hear my advice? Just stay away from that guy. Don't talk to him, don't pay attention to him."

The hand on her back stops as he thinks of more advice to give her while her heart grows cold and lonely.

"Just pretend that he doesn't exist."

It’s another punch in the gut to hear that she, the invisible girl, should simply return to her invisibleness and condemn König to nonexistence, too. To cast him out and send him even further into exile. To pretend that he had never been inside her, never brought her gifts.

The hand disappears, but then she feels padded gloves on her chin. She's too tired to flinch, and the hand gently coaxes her to turn her head and look back at the Scottish sunshine.

"Now… Give me a little smile, lass. It can't be that bad."

He’s not flirting with her.

She’s far too plain for Soap.

Or at least, that’s how she feels: unattractive, to men like him. To twinkling brown eyes, a perfect jawline, good jokes and outgoingness… She's had a few admirers but König is the only man who has looked at her like she’s nothing short of a goddess.

Soap, however, is the only one who came to clumsily cheer her up from the slump that witnessing a violent stabfest has sent her in. Everyone else just rushed by with feigned hurry. Every kindness she receives, she usually returns tenfold… But kindness is also a burden. Under the surface, she mainly wants to get rid of Soap; wants just to be left alone. Finally go back to her room and cry herself to sleep.

So she gives him a smile, shy enough to make him believe it’s genuine.

"There we go," he smiles back like an innocent sun, and behind him, in the darkening hallway, she catches the approaching giant: a black hood and under that, a bone-searing blue gaze.

"Wait–wait, wait!"

She darts from the bench, between Soap and him, like her lithe little body is enough to shield John MacTavish from a murderous titan.

If a man who spills coffee on her deserves to be stabbed more than a dozen times, what will happen to a man who has dared to touch her and make her smile?

"Don't,” her hand meets the steel of König's chest, and the blood drunk Goliath actually stops.

“Don’t, König, please."

The ice-cold gaze drops to her, and there’s such a range of emotion behind those blues that she has a hard time catching even half of the storm raging inside her maniac.

Soap rises from the bench behind her: the rustle of clothes and the squeak of gear tell her as much.

"Caught the girl crying,” he says with poorly disguised trepidation in his voice. “Now I don't know what you have done but maybe you should apologize."

Soap’s bravery is admirable. The flash of rage that is sent behind her could scald flesh from bones.

She presses herself against König, hugs his middle, tries to guide his attention elsewhere.

Just let the him go, please, no more…

Soap could perhaps defend himself for a while, but she doubts if the Austrian war machine would stop even when he’s shot full of holes.

Gargantuan arms go around her like a cage: she’s his, and forever will be. The true cost of being cast out from heaven is heavier than she had ever imagined; the tears that arise are born from a deeper trauma than that of witnessing a homicide in her quiet little break room.

. . . . .

König waits as she goes to have a shower. He follows her like a dark cloud as she goes to throw her work clothes, stained with coffee and the memory of blood, to the washing machine. He waits with statuelike composure as she finally sits on her bed, hair still dripping wet and leaving damp stains on her cute little white dress.

Wearing white seems like an abomination right now.

"I told you I don't want you to hurt people," she says quietly while watching how the water gathers at the tip of the strings of hair and tip-tip-tips on her dress and hands.

The man says nothing to defend himself. All the rage and fury is gone, his shoulders are tense, high up in the sky, almost in his ears. He’s shielding himself, and it makes her confused – clearly, he feels empathy, so why is he like… like this?

"I don't think you understand,” she swallows, heart beating more calmly now. He’s not going to plunge a knife in her, that much is certain. But still…

"I'm afraid of you."

She raises her stare: a powerful accusation, a woman's weapon. His head pulls back – he's surprised at this newfound nerve.

"I'm afraid of you, König," she emphasizes, much louder now. The declaration rings so true that it leaves her breathless and free, even powerful.

He, on the other hand, is a paralyzed beast. A golem stripped of the magical word that makes him a soulless robot. His eyes betray fear of loss for the first time, real, actual fear. He steps toward her, and when she doesn’t stop him, walks slowly to where she’s sitting.

He falls to one knee, slowly, so slowly – like she's a bird about to fly off. It pulls at her heart, it rattles the cage of her ribs. The frigid padding of his gloves touch her cheek, and she surrenders an inch or two. Maybe more than that.

She doesn’t know who lifts the mask, he or she, but her lips meet his desperate ones under all that black.

"I'm afraid of you…"

She whispers it on his lips, in his mouth, although she’s not afraid anymore. She’s pissed, and somewhat in love, and addled, shaken, ruffled to her core.

The kiss turns into a hungry one when he notices she’s not meaning what she says. Before long, she's on her knees too, and he's devouring her until she finds herself in his arms, being gently set on the floor. A trembling hand disappears under the hem of her dress, and the fabric comes up with it as he travels up her thigh.

But the only thing that’s wet right now is her hair, everything else is parched dry, locked up, sealed like the tomb of Tutankhamun, and there are curses in store for the one who will try to enter with force. Hell, even with a trembling, delicate hand.

And it’s not because she can’t get aroused – she could, in mere minutes with him – but because she’s not wet at the very instant he’s in her presence, that makes her grab the hand currently trying to get some solace from her.

"No."

He stops but doesn’t move that hand away. He’s panting in her mouth: needy, and in a whirlpool of despair. The only thing that can make him feel better is her wetness, which she cannot provide him.

The hand probes; it forces its way up just an inch.

"No."

She's relentless, and he finally draws his hand away, only to place it hesitantly and with an immense amount of grief, on her waist. She feels tiny under that giant palm.

"I'm not your plaything," she whispers, even finds the courage to shoot a tiny glare his way.

The hand does not apply pressure. If anything, it grows lighter and lighter with the fear of scaring her away.

"I made a mistake, Engel," he breathes. "You're not a toy."

Her eyes must betray both her hurt and longing because the man ups the stakes immediately.

"I'll give you anything you want," he tries: so desperately, so seriously that it sounds quite ridiculous.

"Can you just go," she whispers while a tear or two push out from the corner of her eyes. They’re hot as hell because they’re born of odd love.

"Engel–"

"Just leave."

The fingers on her waist curl, they grab her dainty little dress like it’s his only gateway to heaven. He releases the fabric soon enough, then grabs it again and lets out an agonizing sound.

Just go, go, please just leave me be…

She wants him to understand that there are consequences to his actions, and at the same time, she wants him to just hold her, to fix everything and fix her. It doesn't take the bitter taste of betrayal off her tongue to realize that she always knew what he was. She knew.

He rises to his feet, paces around a few times, more and more confused, distressed like a tortured animal. She sniffs and curls into a fetal position, hoping that he would just leave, and at the same time, hoping that he would brush off her demands and just hug her.

"I can't," he finally wails as if he can hear even her thoughts. "You're crying…”

It breaks her heart into million pieces – how can the same man stress and fuss about her tears when just hours ago, he had murdered some innocent man in cold blood?

He comes to the heap of her again, falls to his knees, then caresses her arm so softly that at first she thinks she’s just imagining the touch.

"Little angel," he tries.

Her following sob is like that of a child's. Why does he have to be so perfect and at the same time, such a–

"I know that I'm a monster."

Her eyes want to fly wide open, but she keeps them shut. He's self-aware, so much so that it hurts. He pets her more neurotically now; it's almost as if he's comforting himself and not her.

"Don't send me away," he begs, then curls behind her in an awkward spooning, holds and rocks her gently as she cries some more. After the catharsis that lasts for good long minutes, he gathers her like a doll in his arms and carries her to the bed so she doesn't have to lie on the cold, hard floor.

"I'll make it better," he says again and again as he caresses her and strokes her hair, "I promise I'll make it better…"

“Just go,” she cuts him off with a whisper.

He leaves eventually, after some more pacing and a few sighs, and she understands that he actually cared for her all this time: otherwise, he would've just taken what he wanted.

She slips into a dream, a soft oblivion where everything is well and summer is at its peak. They hold hands and stroll through the freshly cut grass, birds are singing, and he has no mask.

Taglist:

@ghostinvenus @konigsleftkidney @stillinracooncity @valenspuppy @koionthewalls

#könig x reader #könig x female reader #könig x you #könig fanfiction #könig #mw2 smut #mw2 fanfic #könig smut #konig x reader #call of duty #mw2 x reader #yandere könig #könig imagine #just friends

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bagopucks · 5 months

Text

J. Hughes - And The Terrible Horrible No Good Very Bad Date

✄————————————

Jack Hughes x Fem!reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Warning(s): Sad!Jack :(

Something small for my comeback story <3

Thank you all SO much for the love!!! Send in some requests and I’ll keep the stories coming!

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“It’s gonna be the best date you’ve ever been on!”

What a horrible promise.

First, he was late. Something about media day extending longer than he had planned. Not his fault, but it did peeve me slightly. I hated when Jack’s work kept him from our plans unexpectedly.

Then our reservations were cancelled because we were both late, but have no fear! Jack had a backup plan.

A backup plan that went south the second he realized how hard it was to schedule a good reservation on Valentine’s Day.

So we decided to get ice cream.

Then it ended up on my dress. All because Jack’s hands simply moved too much when he talked.

I missed the guilty look in his eyes when we were both frantically trying to wipe the stain out of the fabric of my skirt. I knew how hard Jack could be on himself, but he was so good at hiding it, that I sometimes forgot to check on him.

When we left the ice cream shop, it started pouring.

Jack and I didn’t have umbrellas. He offered me his suit jacket to wear as we walked to the nearest bus stop. Only to find out that the bus wouldn’t be around for another hour. So we decided to trek home.

And just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse. I was starving and drenched and down a dress. The misfortunes didn’t end.

Jack didn’t set a timer on the oven for the pizza he put in. We only noticed when we started smelling the burnt crust.

Jack looked so tense that I hadn’t even bothered following him into the kitchen. I walked down the hall to find a change of clothes, and answer a call from my friend. I put her on speaker while I took light steps.

“Hey! Happy Galentines day! I wish you could have been there tonight.”

“I know.. me too.” I smiled sadly at the thought. It was my first Valentine’s Day that I hadn’t spent with the girls. “I miss you guys so much.” I stepped into the bedroom and pushed the door shut to a crack.

“We miss you too! But I mean- I just have to know what all you got into today!”

“Oh god, honey. If only you knew.” I giggled, pulling the wet dress off and tossing it into the hamper by the bed.

“I have all the time in the world. Did you get some wake up sex? Breakfast in bed? Did he spend the whole day cuddling you and giving you all kinds of gifts?”

“Nope.” I popped the ‘p.’ Truly I didn’t mind. Jack kissed me and wished me a happy Valentine’s Day before he left for work that morning. That was good enough for me. But now I wished at least something other than our morning had gone decently.

“Please tell me you’re joking.”

“We had plans. But his stupid media day kept him late. And then we missed our date. Then I got ice cream on my dress and it poured on the walk home. And I’m starving and Jack just burned the damn pizza.” I let out a defeated sigh as I dropped onto the bed, setting my phone beside myself as I tucked my hands between my back and the mattress to unclip my bra. “This is what I get for leaving you girls.” It was meant to be a joke, but I couldn’t muster a laugh at it.

“Wow. Talk about Jack Hughes and the terrible horrible no good very bad date.”

“Exactly.” I shook my head. “Just one decent night out was all I wanted. We barely get time together any more.” I tried to keep my voice down. I wasn’t bad talking Jack in any way. I simply missed him, and the universe did everything in its power to ruin our evening.

“You guys still have the whole night.”

“A whole night where everything else could go wrong.” I stood up and crossed the floor to find a change of clothes in my dresser. “I’d rather just go to bed and forget this horrible day exists.”

“Oh come on now. Chin up. Jack still might have a couple tricks up his sleeve.” I wanted to believe that, but I knew he didn’t, because if he did, we wouldn’t have been home already. This was plan Z, and evidently, plan Z just crashed and burned like our pizza.

“Maybe.” I relented. I didn’t have the energy to argue. I pulled on an old cropped t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants.

“I’ll tell you about my day another time.”

“No, no.” I walked back toward the bed. “I wanna hear about it.”

“It’s okay, really. You and Jack should try and spend whatever time you can together. Especially after today. I promise I’ll save my stories for tomorrow.” I heard her quiet laugh over the other end of the line.

“Are you sure?”

“Just promise you’ll call me.” I sat on the bed as she spoke, letting out a sigh.

“I promise.”

“I love you, girlie!”

“I love you too.” There was a moment of silence before the line went dead. I let out a sigh and shook my head. I turned my attention to my sweats, one of my feet stuck and refusing to go through the hole in the leg. I groaned, and gave one last forceful shove before I managed to get my foot through.

What kind of sick joke was the universe playing?

“Fuck Valentine’s Day.” I mumbled, walking into the bathroom. “Such a shitty day anyway.” I turned the sink on and waited for the water to heat up, drowning out the sheepish voice of my lover in the hall calling my name. I didn’t hear him until he was halfway through the bedroom, and standing in the doorway of the bathroom.

I grabbed a towel from the cabinet.

“What’s up, Jack?” I asked, barely sparing him a glance as I held the cloth under the tap.

“Can we talk?” I heard him sniffle, and the second I looked up, I was greeted with a heart wrenching sight. I immediately turned the sink off and set the cloth down.

“What’s wrong?” I cooed, stepping forward to wrap my arms around him. In all my days, I hadn’t seen Jack cry very much.

“I ruined Valentine’s Day.” His quiet and broken voice was such a contrast from how loud and excitable he usually was.

“No you didn’t,” I reassured him, but I could already hear the quiet cries escaping his lips. “Jack.” I tried to get his attention.

“I’m sorry.” The middle Hughes had always felt like he needed to compete for his parents attention. Through no fault of Jim or Ellen, Jack had simply never felt like enough. He always idolized Quinn, and the problem with that had been that nobody can ever see themselves measuring up to their idols. He always fought for his parents love even when there was no reason to fight. And he’d isolate himself and berate himself when he’d ever done something wrong or bad. I knew he felt worthless for how badly the day had gone.

“Jack, honey, it’s okay.”

“I know you just wanted to be home.. and I’m so sorry I messed everything up.” He tried to pull away, always insistent on distancing himself when he didn’t feel like he deserved a hand to hold. But I pulled him back in with a gentle force.

“Jack it’s one day.” I reached up to hold the back of his head. “And I never said I wanted to go home. I just wanted to be with you.”

“It’s an important day. And the girls never messed it up.” His back rose and fell with sporadic breaths. There it was. That competition. Something he felt he had to measure up to.

I sighed out a breathy laugh. “Oh baby,” I slowly pulled away, reaching for his hands as I pulled him into the bathroom. I closed the toilet lid and motioned for Jack to sit on it, which he did.

“Do you know how many years have been chaos at galentines?” I asked. He shook his head. I stepped back toward the sink and grabbed the wet cloth, wiping gently at the makeup on my eyes.

“The first year, we only had a veggie tray because everybody was too broke to actually cook anything and we were all still in college.” I glanced at Jack in the mirror. “Our second year, we didn’t even plan a consistent time, so everybody just showed up whenever, and it was in the common room during March Madness.” I finished removing my makeup and tossed the cloth aside. I grabbed a paper towel and turned to Jack, leaning forward to wipe the tears from his cheeks. He sniffled once again.

“Year three and four didn’t happen because we got too busy with our lives. Year five was held in my first apartment. We ended up clogging the sink and having to learn how to fix pipes in the same night.” I lowered myself into his lap. “Year six we were going to go to the beach. Surprise surprise, Kathy forgot the plane tickets.” Jack seemed a bit reassured about that one. At least he hadn’t ruined a vacation.

“Nothing is perfect Jack.” I ran my hands through his wavy hair.

“It should have been.”

“Yeah, but it’s not. Things go south sometimes. It took the girls and I years to coordinate the perfect Galentines Day. We’ll get there too.” I tucked a strand of his hair behind his ear.

“So we’re okay? You’re not mad?”

I shook my head. “Baby, I would never freak out over something as small as this.” I pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I might not let you plan the next date, but I’m not angry.” I finally brought a giggle from his lips. “You went through so much trouble today to make me happy. Even if nothing went well I appreciated it. Thank you so much, Jack.”

✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾

#nhl imagine #nhl x reader #jack hughes #quinn hughes #ella’s updates #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes blurb #ELLAS BACK BABY

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indouloureux · 2 years

Text

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ 𝐂𝐑𝐘𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘

summary: your best-friend’s pretty. really fucking pretty. especially when he’s got his eyeliner smudged all over his eyes from crying too much, or when he’s got scratch marks over his inked skin, or when his begging moans make him hotter than hellfire

warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI. 8k filth, sub!eddie kinda, mommy kink, overstimulation, protected sex, oral (m receiving), degradation kink(slut, whore), dirty talk, dacryphilia, biting, ball sucking (hehe), praise kink, maybe mean!dom reader, rough sex, aftercare??? multiple orgasms lol MINORS GO AWAY (not proofread. rushed)

a/n: idk man, this took a long time to write for some reason but i hope you guys like this because it took a long time okay! and ball sucking. tumblr got me horny for eddie munson's ballsack so i put it in here. enjoy. also thank u for 4k mwah mwah i love u all!

— proofread by my mi amor jess <3 (@cordiformity)

MASTERLIST

The sound of the car turning on makes the both of you raise your hands in a farewell, Wayne Munson’s silhouette inside the tinted window waves back at you and Eddie, pulling out of the driveway, wheels scraping on the gravel road outside of your home.

“Bye, Uncle Wayne!” you yell, hands cupping your mouth for a better volume. Eddie waves still, arm stretched out in the hot air, rings clinking and glinting in the hot sun as he hovers you. “I’ll miss you! You’re the better Munson!”

“Asshole,” Eddie jabs your ribs. You poke your tongue at him, turning around to go back inside your home, a hand hovering behind you as he leads you through the door before he follows and shuts it behind him. “You invite me over and you’re saying I’m the worse Munson?”

“I’m basing off the truth, dungeon master,” you bump your hips with his, leading him to the stairs. His dirty sneakers thump on the creaking stairwell, hand dragging up the rail as you look back at him. “Who’s got the working car? Who’s got better morale?”

You sigh in contentment, feeling the cold air blow the sweat off your bodies in a strong surge. Eddie wipes the sticking hair off his forehead, eyes lazily watching you sit in front of him on the broken chair, legs spread.

“Alright, Eds.” You offer your hand, rings shown that matched his – the same skull on your ring finger, a snake coiled around the middle, and a daintier one connected to your bracelet through a chain. He vaguely remembers being with you when you bought it, having to be too distracted with something else he also can’t remember. “Whip it out and let’s suck.”

Almost fooled by your racy insinuation, Eddie lifts his ass up and searches for the ziplock in his pocket, tongue massaging his upper teeth as he pulls the plastic out and shows you what you’re asking for. “You’re still paying for that.”

You scoff, snatching it from him before you pull out a crumpled twenty from your pocket. “You know I always do.”

“You always do?” he sits up, forearms behind him. Eddie’s curls loose the sticky perspiration, now flowing behind him when he shakes his head at you. You slap the bill on his palm. “(y/n), you owe me like, fifty bucks. Minus ten because you beat that sicko from the band auditions.”

“It was supposed to be a gift,” you whine, throwing your head back. “I thought we were friends, Eddie?”

“We are,” he kicks his shoes off, and he half thinks he might have already lost them in the pile of clothes. “But I need money, too. No money, and we spend the rest of our life being driven back and forth by my uncle. And you know he hates it when we smoke.”

“Which is why I keep on telling you to convince him to smoke weed,” you open your drawer. “That way you can at least emancipate the stress you give him,” you jest, searching beneath used notebooks until you spot a crutch. “I- fuck I kind of forgot how to roll a joint. Can you do it?”

Eddie sniffs, side of his finger rubbing his nostrils. “You’re gonna do it now? That’s like, a half ounce. You finish it way faster than I do,” he sits up. “Just smoke a cig with me instead.”

Your hands drop to your sides, giving him a dismayed look before you’re opening the drawer once more and tossing the ziplock and clutch back inside, making sure it’s hidden beneath a notebook.

“I’d rather not,” you slump your head on the table. “I wanna get high. That’s why I invited you here in the first place.”

Eddie huffs. “That’s the third time you’ve hurt me, (y/n).”

He sits up, the veins on his forearm catching your attention. Tendrils bulging against the tattoo on his skin, blood pumping in the same beat your heart does as you stare at them with a watering mouth before they drive down to his clenching hands that reach for the boombox, toying with the antennas before Eddie looks at you.

“You still got the tapes? Or you sold them just to pay me?” he snickers, kicking your foot. You sneer at him, kicking him much harder that simulates a groan from him. “Please tell me you have at least Judas Priest in there. I’ve had enough listening to a-ha. I have the lyrics stuck in my head that I forgot the chords to Master Of Muppets.” You glare at him. “You know? Take on meeee…?”

“Yeah. I know what that song is,” While eyes impishly glare at him, you reach for the bag beneath your desk, black almost gray from the specks of dust surrounding it. Eddie watches your hand dig into the filthy bag, looking as if you’re carding through a literal trash can before you pull out three mixtapes that he gave you a couple months ago, Kate Bush and Foreigner falling to the ground as you pull them up.

“Blizzard of Ozz,” you smack the cassette in Eddie’s open palm, a stinging clap echoing around the corners of your small bedroom. “For the one and only Osbourne wannabe.”

“Kate Bush, huh?” Eddie opens the cassette player, shoving the tape carelessly inside. “Red tell ya to listen to it?” he asks, slamming the cassette holder shut and turns the volume louder, like you hadn’t received complaints from the loud ‘satanic’ music; you don’t care, anyway, it’s music nonetheless. Your friend spins in a riveting twirl, hair spinning cavalierly into the air-conditioned wind, before he stops to face you with a thespian look, mouthing the lyrics.

You yell over the music. “Max says she could change the world!”

Eddie snorts. “People look at me and say ‘is the end near, when is the final day?’” He takes a brush from your cup holder, holding it like a microphone. You guffaw at him, watching as a hand comes down to his chest before he runs around your room, stepping on the discarded clothes and crumpled papers on the ground. “What’s the future of mankind? How do I know, I got left behind.”

“Hey!” you shout at him through the zeitgestical piece of joint electrical guitars and drums, his feet taking him to your mattress sunken, exhorting him to jump up and down like a giddy child. “Get down!”

“Come on, bats,” his hand’s still up as an offer. “Ozzy wannabe wants to make the most metal concert ever inside your garbage bedroom.” Eddie air guitars like a loser, fingers mimicking the same chords of the song and imitating riffs as if he was in a metal concert. “Don’t just sit in the crowd. Be a part of the show.”

“Do you often say that to five drunks?” you quip. “I’d rather stay here than break my neck, Eddie.”

“Fine,” he jumps off, landing right on his feet where you see his left one bending the slightest at the hard impact. His inept body refuses him to sit still, and is now telling him to touch the items on your desk as you sit and watch him poke and prod like he’s shopping. “Let’s do something else that doesn’t make you so boring.”

“I’m not boring!” you exclaim, gawping at him. “I’m fun! Sorry for making sure you don’t die in my bedroom. Because if you did, I’d leave you here to rot with the rest of my clothes. Then I’ll steal your car and drive away to California.”

“You just worry too much,” Eddie pulls on your hand, indolently limp in his touch. “Sing with me, bats. Ozzy Osbourne awaits.” when you shake your head, he sighs disappointedly; almost in a way that’s so dramatic that you think he’s not actually sad about your refusal. “Alright. Then, let’s do something that you think is fun other than using me for getting high.”

You pout at him, now clasping at his forearm for forgiveness. “Aw. Eds, I don’t use you. You’re my best friend.”

Best friend.

Two words that compress his chest so tight he feels the pain ricocheting in his inked limbs. Eddie plasters this pain he doesn’t know why he feels when you call him your best friend by a short laugh, biting his bottom lip. “Yeah yeah. Think of something before I go find somewhere else fun.”

“Don’t you just wanna lay down beside me while we listen to Ozzy Osbourne? You used to do that!”

“Bats,” he bends, face leveled with yours as his lips disappear into his mouth, forming a straight line. “I’m extremely bored without my van. I need to do something before I lose my mind entirely. I mean, you wouldn’t like seeing me—” his fingers join together, both hands placing them on either side of his head before he mimics the sound of an explosion, fingers splaying apart. “—all bloody and open headed, right? I could just drop my blood down to your carpet. Or, well, what used to be a carpet.”

You kick a few items away to show your dark cerulean carpet. Eddie’s upper lip curls up in slight disgust. “The color’s always…like that.” you wave it off. “I clean it like, once a year? I dunno. I’ll clean up my shit after you leave.”

“You should,” he scratches the back of his neck. “Now find something interesting to do.”

“Fine,” you grunt. “I have something in mind. But if you don’t want to do it, then it’s your loss.”

In the last seven years of your friendship, not once have you imagined sitting on Eddie Munson’s lap.

Sure. Maybe you’ve hugged. But it’s just a hug. All friends do that. Friends snuggle when they’re stoned, they kiss each other’s cheeks as a rushed farewell. Maybe talking about masturbation was another thing but it was normal. You’ve seen each other half-naked — he helped you pick your bra before a date, and you got him a decent pair of underwear before girls would blow him. It’s a normal best friend thing.

Sitting on each other’s lap? It’s become romanticized in cheesy rom coms. And you see its point. With the minimal space between your bodies, crotches almost on top of each other, and the air so thick with unearthed tension that you’re wary and nervous at every move you do.

The liquid kohl paints his pale skin, a flawed darkness that mends conveniently into his eccentric vogue that he possesses valiantly with pride. Eddie’s eyes bore into you, scanning each pore, or the light hair above your top lip. Mostly into your eyes that don’t directly look into his — the way your pupils dilate and shrink every so often; and sometimes he’d cheekily glance down your lips, where the tip of your tongue would poke out, which gallops his blood all over his body into an intense heat. And fuck, how long is this going to take?

His hands grasp your waist tightly, keeping you in place. Your thigh on his, drawing around his vast eyes that perceive. Ozzy Osbourne sings from the mixtape Eddie changed—your mixtape that he made for you, a mechanized voice bringing you into the stage instead of the crowd — makes you feel like you’re in a show playing house with your best friend. It makes Eddie squirm gently in his seat, almost letting you muck up what you’ve done.

“Sit still,” your hand grips his cheeks, harshly forcing him into looking at you and keeping his face pliant beneath your touch, making his lips pucker a little. “You’re gonna make me mess up.”

“Sorry,” he chuckles. “It kinda tickles.”

“The brush?”

“Yeah,” his nails scratch your back slightly. “It’s like a feather touching my eyes or something. How long is this going to take?”

Eddie sees your eyebrows furrow in slight frustration at his impatience, your hand shaking in the slightest. “Almost done, Munson.” you mutter, lips parting the slightest that shows just a sliver of your pearls.

The situation is familiar, albeit it’s not him that you’re sitting on. Eddie’s mind varies through a manifold of haunting memories, until it settles on the one that bestows him a roll of undefined covetousness. It makes him grip your waist tighter as the memory of you sitting on another boy’s lap fills his mind, in this exact activity. Eddie feels this confusing jealousy run through him when he remembers you kissing that boy with his eyeliner all smudged up.

You sense his sudden rigidness, the hitching on his breath. “What’s wrong?” you murmur, brush stopping on the outer corner of his eye.

“Nothing,” he widens his eyes a bit. “Just…remembered something.”

“What is it?”

He watches you move again, feeling the cold brush on the crinkles beside his eyes, curving upward. “When- when you and Harrison Mcline were in the back of the classroom making out,” he laughs gently. “You were putting eyeliner on him too for the school play. He looked a lot like David Bowie with it, though. But I bet I look way cooler than him.”

Scoffing, you shake your head. “Harrison Mcline is a douchebag,” you claim, nail digging deep into his cheek he thinks he’ll see a crescent indent on his flesh. Eddie looks into your eyes, full of annoyance at the sudden memory, before it shifts into embarrassment. “He’s an arrogant dickhead who trusts his pulling out ‘skills’ and kept insisting he was allergic to condoms just so he could fuck me raw. And also, you do look better.”

Heat waves through his cheeks and ears as Eddie laughs out of sympathy, but mostly to make fun of your unfortunate encounter. “Told you you shouldn't have gone for him. You’re planning on fucking Mcline? Cheer squad says he’s got a dick the size of an eraser.”

“Well, it’s not like I have any options, do we?” you snicker, brushing his eyelashes with the side of your finger before you’re back to painting the inner corner of his eye, tainting his opal skin black. “What goody-two-shoes of a man would want to fuck a girl who’s part of the ‘satanic panic’?” you wave your hand to gesture to yourself. “And I did not know that.”

“Jason Carver’s been eyein’ you lately,” he teases, eyebrows wiggling the slightest. “As well as Steve Harrington when we’d rent a shitty movie. Even Gareth!”

“Jason Carver is with Chrissy Cunningham, and he keeps on insisting that this whole metal thing is just a phase. Steve Harrington only eyes me because I’m with you. And I’m older than Gareth! It’s disgusting, he’s like my little brother.” you tilt your head at him, Eddie wincing at your thoughts about your friend. “This pious town doesn’t fuck with, and I quote, cult members. I can't even find a decent one out there.”

In a drunken momentum, his eyes trace the v-shaped column of your neck that connects to your collarbone, prominent as his irises desecrate the components of every imperfection on your skin, minus the tattoos — the unorthodox stygian tattoos so unsaint, skulls and horns sinking deep into your flesh you might as well be the Devil’s little wayward angel. The hand behind you traces the waistline of your jeans, feeling your skin that’s exposed when your shirt has risen up from your back being slouched to hover over his head.

Eddie kicks a shirt out of his way — a cut tank top with the painted devil from the Hellfire Shirt to appear more punk (one he remembers you wore when you snuck into the community pool, jumping into the chlorine water with nothing but that shirt and a pair of denim shorts, gave him a goddamn boner when your bare tits poked out). “There’s some decent guys out there.”

He wants to say ‘me’, however not in an amorous way. Simply the mind that hasn't seen any cunt for the past month, and he’s desperate to the point he’d literally fuck his best friend. But maybe hidden beneath that word could mean something deeper, something he’s chosen to deny and decides to forget about. Eddie knows it’s wrong; to imagine you, his dear friend for ozzy knows how long, all bent and spread for him to fuck because he’s horny. But who wouldn't?

“Easy for you to say,” you scoff. “You almost fucked that mom from the community pool back summer. And that junkie who blew you when she came to your show and thought a blowjob was enough of a payment for weed.” He feels the rough pad of your thumb rub a spot beside his eye, stinging slightly.

“She gives really good head,” he nods slightly. “ ‘m just saying, sweetheart. You just need to look hard.”

“Oh yeah?” you take your eyeliner away from his eyes, snapping the cap back in place before your hands rest on his shoulders. “Like you? Because I think that your little friend—”

Your finger drags down his chest, movement sedated and teasing, nail scraping on the printed typography before they press deep into the thick flesh of his torso, trailing down like you’re exploring uncharted territories. They come across his thighs, hard and thick, short nails scratching the denim before you tease and sink deeper, feeling up the sudden rock in his pants that presses right onto your crotch.

Eddie blames you for the hard on in, had you not been subtly grinding on it for the past minute or so when you were applying eyeliner, acting nonchalantly when he felt so constrained in his tight jeans. His bottom lip feels so raw from all the biting he’s done just to not moan out loud. And it feels sick — perverted — to have a boner when your best friend sits on your lap.

“—kind of agrees with me,” you trace his bulge, unevenly round and thick, your hand wanting to squeeze but you spare him the insanity. “He’s been poking out ever since I sat on your lap. I think he wants you to say that you need some help.”

“And I think I’m the only one who can know what my dick says,” he sneers, his hand coming out from behind you to grasp your forearm and run his thumb on the inked bats on your skin. “And he says he’s perfectly fine staying inside until he gets home and feels the love of my hand.”

You tut, pouting as you brush the hair out of his face and tuck it behind his ears, bangs unruly on his forehead that it almost pokes his pretty eyes. “Shame,” you pop the eyeliner back on your cup, chastely placing your hands on his shoulders instead. “Would have been happy to help.”

His saliva sticks to the walls of his throat, blocking the next words from coming out because holy fucking shit, you’re flirting with him. Or he thinks you’re flirting with him. Because friends don’t flirt, right? Best friends, as you so proudly say to others. Best friends don’t flirt, or offer to get rid of someone’s fucking boner; he shouldn’t feel this proverbial hunger towards you, like the words that had rolled off your tongue was a drop of water that rolls down his throat, still leaving him thirsty.

“Tsk,” he chuckles dryly, palms running up and down your bare thighs. You expected him to say something else, but it seemed like he’s at a loss for words whenever you graze his bulge when you adjust your seat to remove the numbness of your calf. You feel like the senile chair would snap it legs and drop you into this void of just him and you, left alone to be stubborn and in denial.

“I could, though,” you murmur, fingers grazing his slightly coarse hair. “I can h-help you. With your problem. I don’t mind.”

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie sighs heavily, his hot breath fanning your face. “I don’t want you to feel like you’re forced to just because I got a boner while you’re on top of me.”

“It’s not that,” you grip his shoulders tightly, trying to stop yourself from grinding again. Because god, fuck, if you had a dick of your own, you’d be as hard as him. “It’s just a friendly offer. Both of us hadn’t had fuck since last month and, well, we’re here now, are we? Might as well just…get on with it.”

It’s atrociously fun, your offer. Because even though you’d agree to forget about it in the end, both of you would certainly not forget about it. Eddie knows nothing would be the same if he agreed, if he acted like he’s wanted to fuck you for ages. You’d know with the way he’d act, with the way he speaks, that he’s always yearned for it, and he’s afraid it would cause a strain to your friendship. But fuck—you’re offering it yourself; and he’d cut his own dick off if he ever denied the chance.

Giving in into having sex with you just because he hasn’t had a decent fuck in a while? Was it selfish, maybe, even if he knows it’s going to change everything. But hey, the chance is right in front of him.

Eddie’s silence deludes you into thinking that he might have been disgusted by your offer. You don’t see the way his pupils widen and shrink ever so often, and it makes you remove your hands from his shoulders and sigh. “You know what? Forget about it. I don’t even know why I said that,”

“Hey,” he reaches out to clasp your wrist when you stand up to leave. Your right leg’s on the ground, the other still bent beside his thigh. Eddie looks up at you with unsure eyes, thumb running along your pulse point. “I was…going to say why not.”

Your lips part. “Really?”

“Yeah,” his eyebrows furrow and his nose wrinkles as he says it, urging you to sit back on his lap by the gentle pull on your hand. “I mean, you know, it’s just a one time thing, right? We can- we can act like it never happened after. Unless, you don’t want to.”

You don’t know if he’s saying all of that to spare your feelings, or if he wants the same thing you do—being fuck buddies, and whatnot, until you’d both come to terms that you actually like each other. But maybe that’s just your fantasy that he felt the same way you did, and that Eddie’s only saying yes because he’s just as deprived as you are.

“We don’t have to think about that now,” you sit gently on his thighs. The hand that he doesn’t hold tugs on the thread hanging on the bottom of your shirt, fingers twirling and pulling slightly. “We can just have sex. Then, let’s think about it after. That way we can see if- we can continue it or…not.”

Eddie’s looking directly into your eyes, right where you can see the specks of concupiscent dust glaze his brown eyes. And somehow, your faces are so close yet so far, with the way you feel the very tips of his eyelashes graze your cheeks ever so softly when he blinks.

“Great idea,” he says. And his hand hovers like he debates on cupping your face or holding your waist again.

“You can hold me,” you take his hands, placing them on your waist. “I’m not gonna bite,”

“Oh, I know you won’t,” he chuckles, sighing deeply when you bite your lip. “‘Y too soft to bite.”

You pull away, though still your faces are still close. Eddie’s bemused by the incredulity on your face, the way your parted lips etch into a feigned offended smile. “I’m too soft to bite?” you repeat, nails scraping on his exposed arms before you suddenly tangle your hand in his hair and pull harshly; lo and behold, he whimpers. “Aw, look at that. He made a sound.”

“That’s because it hurt,” he snaps, chest heaving against yours. “How would you react when I pull on your hair?”

“The same thing,” your other hand pushes his hair behind his ear, pouting at him. “I would have moaned like you did,”

Eddie’s nostrils flare, eyes darkening. “Fuck you.”

Leaning in to whisper in his ear, you tug on his hair again and fuck, he whimpers. “No, I fuck you.” Your nails scrape his scalp, Eddie digging his own at your skin. “What, you think just because I offered I’d let you use me? That’s not how it works, sweetie.”

You pull back, your hand still in his hair before you lean in to kiss him hard on his chapped lips.

It’s sultry, in that exchange of hot breaths between open mouths and teeth clashing. Eddie grunts against you when you coincide with your hip rolling each time your lips close around his. Judas Priest replaces Ozzy Osbourne’s yelling rasps, Love Bites deep thrumming like the chime of a bell cascades the ambience of the moment. You’re bold when your tongue slips past his lips to tackle his, sinking deeper that your nose bends on his cheek.

It’s new and it’s scary to kiss your best friend with the crisp trepidation of the future of your friendship. Because yeah, a simple kiss can change everything. It’s not chaste, it’s not for comfort, it’s not by accident; you’d both agreed to it, and it's unbeknownst to the both of you what the kiss truly meant to either of you. It’s driving you insane.

Your mind buzzes in delirium as you feel his shirt, wrinkles and damp from the sweat. He’s humming and he’s grunting with the wet clicks of your rapacious lips. And Eddie’s had enough, his hands coming down to grip the back of your thighs tightly, standing up from the chair and wrapping your legs around his waist. You fall heavily with him, your back landing on your crumpled sheets, his crotch immediately grinding against yours like a payback.

You moan, tugging on the hair on the nape of his neck. “Fuck,”

“What’s that, bats?” he taunts. “You fuck me? Say it again, sweetheart,” he rolls his hips deeper, bulge pressing right on you. “Say it. That you’ll fuck me. If you can, I’ll let you. If you don’t,” Eddie bites gently at your bottom lip, letting it go and watches as it pops right back. “Guess I'll have to be in control.”

Unpleased by his teasing, you push on his shoulders. Eddie falls back, body pinned to the mattress when you straddle his stomach, your hands gripping his wrists. “I fuck you,” you repeat, jaw clenching. “I’m in charge, you hear me?”

You don’t wait for his answer, because your hands are bringing themselves down to tug on his collar, pulling them apart until the weak shirt rips in half. Eddie’s eyes widen at the rip, lifting his head to press his chin on his neck as he looks at your damage. He laughs. “You’re lucky that wasn’t my favorite shirt,”

“I can get you a new one,” you say quickly, placing your palms beneath his chest to admire the tattoos on his fair skin. You lean back down to kiss him on his lips, gently this time, before you drag your lips down to his red cheeks, to his jawline where the faintest of a stubble begins to grow. Eddie exhales, the faint touch of your finger enough to send heat all over his chest. The Demon stares directly at you when you scrape your nails on the black art, punishing and guiding. “This still creeps me out, by the way,”

Eddie looks at the tattoo, frowning. “It’s still cool,”

His eyeliner smudges a little, making his eyes almost caliginous in his own wanton abyss. You press your lips right on the tattoo, coming down to teasingly nip at his nipple before your hands cup his pecs. And you grind on him again, your ass on his crotch and your covered cunt on the flat of his stomach as you let your hand drive up to splay across his chest.

“Christ, (y/n),” he groans impatiently. “Stop fucking dry humping me.”

“Yeah, well, what is it, Eddie?” you cock your head at him. “Who are you telling that to, hm? Christ or me?”

He sits up, hips jutting to yours that elicits a hushed moan from you. Eddie’s hands prop him up from behind, leaning up to kiss you feverishly again. “You,” he answers, shaking his head at you. “But I think (y/n)’s too formal. ‘Bats’ is too sentimental. I like to…spice things up. There’s a reason why I never call you by your name during DnD, sweets,” he lets one hand go, taking your cheek into his palm. “Whatcha say? Let’s try something new other than bats. Like…like mommy.”

Your rutting slows down a bit, uneven by surprise. You turn your head to him, and he almost comes undone with the way your eyes almost blacken by the dilation of your pupils—the way little glints of arousal light your eyes. Eddie bites his lip when the hand beneath his collarbone nears his neck until you're digging your fingers on either side of his neck.

“Mommy, huh?” you deride. “I like the sound of that,” you bounce lightly, and you smile when he moans lowly. “You gonna let mommy do whatever she wants? Because I think it was fucking filthy of you to get a boner when I was on your lap,” Eddie lays back down, his hands gripping your ass. “And mommy wants to punish you for a bit, is that alright?”

He nods. “Y-yes.”

You crawl down slowly. “Yes what?”

Eddie whines softly, his palm resting on the thin layer of sweat forming on his forehead. “Yes mommy.” he grunts. “Still gonna call you bats, though. Feels uncanny,”

“Commit to it,” you unbuckle his jeans, handcuffs clicking as you do so. “Don’t be shy and naughty, Eddie. You wanted it.”

He lifts up, helping you tug his jeans down. Eddie could care less if you lose his jeans in the pile of clothes on the ground, because you’re beneath him. You’re not exactly kneeling—a sight he’d kill for—but seeing your face hovering over his cock hidden by his briefs was enough to make his mouth water and suppress a loud moan. Eddie breathes heavily when you press a kiss on top of his bulge, looking so cherubic and innocent it’s driving him insane.

Now you are mine, In my control. One taste of your life, and I own your soul

You sing it against him, exhaling at each worth that your hot breath makes him jolt. Eddie whines, looking down at you to see that you’re hooking your fingers on the band of his briefs, tugging them down until his feet slip past the holes and you’re throwing it aside.

Amused by the sight of your tongue licking your lips at the sight of his hard cock slapping against his happy trail, a glob of precum leaking down to land on the coarse hair above his dick. Eddie’s hand comes down to brush your hair out of your face. “‘S not fair that I’m naked and you’re still clothed.”

“Patience,” you scoff, leaning back to shed your shirt. You shiver when your bare tits feel the air conditioned air nip at your exposed nipples, but you smirk when Eddie gawps at the sight of you being bare chested and kneeling at the end of your bed right in front of his cock.

Not once did he imagine the sound of a zipper going down could excite him this much, but fuck, your removing your shorts and tossing it at him. Eddie catches it, shamelessly bunching it up in his fist and digging his nose into the crutch point, where he whiffs at the faint scent of your arousal.

“I can imagine just how wet you are,” he throws it aside. “I can fucking smell it on your shorts.”

You’re standing up, right where the exploration of his eyes land on the black lace that covers you, shows well your bumps and the askew imperfections on your thighs. Its floral folderol craves him for the exposure, and it has him tracing the other integrants of you—the matching bat tattoos on your forearm that you’ve both gotten when you turned 18, your Cockatrice dragon to his Wyvern on your other arm; your own demon on your waistline inspired by Gene Simmons, the coiling snake beneath your right breast, and a bell right between your collarbones. It makes Eddie sit up.

“That’s new,” he points to the black bell. “When’d you get that?”

“Last week,” you drag your finger across it. “Metallica’s growing on me.”

For Whom The Bell Tolls. That’s hot.

Eddie bites his lip when you sway your hips side to side as you leisurely get rid of your black lace, your head lifting to gaze coquettishly at him. “Wanna know how wet mommy got, Eddie?” you hum. He nods his head, muttering a low fuck yeah, his lips all swollen from the lip biting that he eases the pain by licking his lips.

His cock throbs at the bare sight of your cunt, not fully exposed but he sees the small triangular bush on top. Eddie stops himself from touching his length right there and then as the lace slips past your knees and soon your feet, tossing it at his face that he clumsily catches. You gasp when he sniffs every inch of it, licking the crotch with the flat of his tongue before he’s flinging it somewhere in a corner.

“Smell good, bats,” Eddie growls. “Fucking delectable.”

You come back to kneel at the end of the bed, right between his legs before you're laying on your stomach. Eddie watches with a parted mouth as you trail kisses up his thigh. And you waste no time to spit on your hand and wrap your hand around his shaft, pumping him in an adagio manner. He lets out a moanish sigh, taking two pillows to rest his head all while he watches you tease him.

“Think you deserve my mouth?” you drawl, biting gently at the fat of his thigh. “Tell me, Eddie. Do you deserve mommy’s cock? After being so naughty? I wonder what other girls would think of you having a boner when you sit on their lap. ‘S like you’re a poor little virgin.”

Your thumb traces the slit of the bulging mushroom head, and it’s taking all of his strength not to thrust up. Your touch is burning, only on his cock but felt tactile like the blaze spreads through his veins like a wildfire. Eddie whines. “Please,” he begs. “I’ve been good, mommy. Jus’ couldn’t help it. You looked hot.” you look up at him. “So fucking sexy sitting on my lap, bats.”

Giggling, you shake your head and press a short kiss on his tip. “You’re lucky flattery works with me.”

A loud moan, louder than Rob Haldford, leaves Eddie’s valiant mouth when you sink your head down his cock, your throat opening to welcome his tip that gags you, your nose grazing the bush of curls. It was a sudden suck, the way your cheeks enclose greedily around his length that makes his legs shake. His fists curl your sheets as you begin to bob your head.

You slap his hand away when it comes down to the back of your head, pulling out and squeezing his shaft. “Keep your hands to yourself, slut. And stay still. If you so much as thrust up my face without my permission, I’m leaving you here all wet with your balls blue.”

He definitely almost came. “Fuck. I’m sorry, m-mommy.”

When you take him into your mouth again with glaring eyes, Eddie thinks of the other girls—a wrong moment to do so, but he remembers how incompetend they were at making him feel so good by the simple touch on his dick. They didn’t send shivers up his spine, they didn’t bear the same dominancy you did; didn’t make him submit indigently the way you made him to. He’s never felt this good in a long time, and it’s just your fucking mouth around him.

“Your cock’s so big, Eddie,” you press your palm on the vein beneath his shaft, kitten licking his tip. “Taste so fucking good, too.” like the way I imagined, you almost say. But you don’t want him to know that; it’s embarrassing to make him think that you’d hump a pillow and imagine fucking his face.

“Feels s-sooo fucking good—shit…bats,” he pants. You close your lips around his helmet, hand on his shaft pumping him as you bob your head around his tip but never fully taking him into your mouth. The feeling was still unexplainably stupefying, your tongue pressing flat on the throbbing flesh of his tip, hands fast and gyrating around his slick shaft that he hears wet sounds against your palm and his sensitive skin.

His grunts and loud moaning sends a hot pool between your legs that it’s starting to drip down your legs to the bed, sticky and sweet and painful from the lack of touch. You take your vacant hand down between your body and the bed, fingers reaching blindly for your clit. And when you rub the swollen nub, you moan against his head that sends vibrations.

“Shit!” his ass clenches, stopping himself from bucking up. Eddie looks down to see your arm wedged uncomfortably beneath you, and he feels his orgasm build up to the edge of the wall when your eyes close as you rub your clit and suck on his cock. “Are you- touching yourself?”

You hum around him, head bobbing in rhythm to the music. You pull away from his cock, to kiss your way down to his heavy balls. Eddie mewls, whining when you rub your clit faster as you lick his balls. Everything feels overwhelmingly good when you suck on his balls, tongue lifting his heavy sack and enclosing your lips around the dark flesh. Eddie’s eyes roll to the back of his head, throwing his head down to his pillow and covering his eyes with his forearm.

He feels the eyeliner transfer to his sweaty skin, his sweat taking the liquid kohl and dripping down his temple. But it might have been the tears that threaten to spill past his eyes that sets the makeup off down his face, because your sloppy sucking and quick pumping, it felt so good it renders him an almost sobbing mess beneath you.

“Mommy,” he heaves. “I’m close,”

“Hold it in, then,” you order. “I’m not done. You can touch my hair now, by the way.”

You capture his sack with the most pure look you could muster, as if what you're doing isn’t so fucking unholy. Like you’re at the gates of heaven proving your innocence. Your hands leave him and yourself to push on the back his thighs, letting his feet plant on the mattress, pushing them wide apart to give yourself better access. Eddie moans, almost a scream ripping out his throat and it’s when the tears slowly start, your hand coming back to pump his wet cock loudly, your muffled moaning like music that comes with the squelching of his cock.

“Such a pretty dick,” you tease. “So pretty and good. Wonder what it would feel like to have you inside me. I’m gonna fucking milk you dry until you’re crying and in pain.”

Eddie pats your head, running his fingers through the tangled mess as you look up at him, eyelashes wet and curled, mouth full of his balls that you suck greedily. His missing orgasm is painful, and he finds himself begging embarrassingly. “Bats, can I cum, please? I’ve been good. Fuck—I’ve been such a good boy for you. Please let me cum.”

Your laugh is sardonic and mean, pressing a kiss to his heavy sack before you’re licking up from his balls to his shaft and tip. “Since you asked so nicely.”

Vampishly, you sink your head down his cock again, gagging around him that a string of saliva drips down your neck and the valley of your breast. Eddie mewls, and with a couple more closed cheeks, head bobbing and sucking and licking, he’s shooting his seed at the back of your throat. His warm delicacy coating the walls of your throat.

You don’t stop until he’s milked, sinking your head deeper and deeper until his cum starts to drip out your mouth. Once you’re done, you let him go with a pop. Your finger scooping up his cum and pushing it back into your mouth.

“Mother of Ozzy,” he whispers, watching you suck on your fingers, his legs dropping down. “S-shit. Come here, bats.”

You come back to sit on his lap, his dick still hard but bends down when you grind your cunt against him. Eddie’s (and your) moans are muffled when you kiss him, taking his face in your hands as you kiss him with fervor, slowly grinding on his shaft like you did earlier. Eddie wraps his hands around your back, keeping your chest flushed against his as his tongue evades your mouth.

“You taste like my cum,” he murmurs.

“Tastes good,” you giggle. “Aw, your eyeliner. I worked hard on that.”

Eddie pouts. “You give the best fucking head, bats. Couldn’t help it.”

Tracing his jawline with your finger, you smile at his praise. “Think you can handle one more? Or you just want to lay back and watch me touch myself?”

Eddie chuckles, shaking his head. His answer dies in his mouth when he looks up at you—and Ozzy, you’re fucking beautiful. With your lips plump, eyes glazed in mutual titillation. Like you’re not just fucking, like you didn’t just suck him off just to replenish your venereal hunger. But he doesn’t know what it is, and so do you (though only because you try to ignore the real reason you can’t fathom).

“Me? I can handle more. Fuck me in the ass if you want, bats,” he presses a quick kiss. “You got any condoms?”

With a hand on his shoulder, Eddie keeps you in place as you lean across the bedside table and clumsily open the drawer. You pull out a pack, splayed out in the wooden cabinet from its box, holding it between your middle and index finger as you wiggle your eyebrows at him. “I got twenty more.”

“Easy there, mama,” his voice is low and almost growling as he looks at your lips. The mixtape whirls as you rip the package open with your teeth. Seek and Destroy by Metallica starts playing, your fingers taking the condom from the foil and placing it on your mouth, lips around the plastic ring before you bend down to wrap the condom around his cock. “Fuck.Where’d you learn that?”

You take him fully in your mouth again, cheekily sucking before you pull out and push your hair out of your face. “Steve Harrington. Junior Year,” Eddie gawps. “Right after Nancy Wheeler dumped him.”

“Holy shit,” despite the panging jealousy, he laughs in shock. “You’re something else, baby.”

Baby.

Heat brushes your cheeks, makes you laugh shyly as you take his sensitive cock in your hand. “Lay back down.”

Eddie complies with the help of your hand pushing his back to the bed. You kneel, hand grabbing his cock and straightening it until his tip’s prodding your entrance. You keenly breathe in when you sink, his thick girth splitting your wet pussy open. He lets out a moan that’s almost painful, greedy hands coming to palm your waist to help you sink.

“Shiiiiiiit,” you gasp. “God, you feel fucking amazing, Eds. So fucking big.”

“That’s it mommy. God, so tight,” Eddie’s eyes drip heavily. “You like my dick?”

His neck stretches when you choke him, his head falling back. “Fucking love your fat cock,” you mewl, throwing your head back. Eddie removes his hands from your waist to palm at your tits, feeling his mushroom bulge in your stomach once you’ve fully sat.

Barely a minute after he’s fully in, you begin moving. The wet sound of your pussy dragging up from his length makes you even wetter, dripping down his navel, his happy trail all sticky. Your hand leaves his neck to scratch on his chest, watching as slanted, red marks paint his skin and his tattoos before you drop down.

Eddie moans, his feet planting up the bed once more to rest your curved back. “You look so pretty,” he pants. “Riding my cock. Touched myself every night to the thought of this. And I know it’s wrong, bats, but I couldn’t fucking help it. I’d—I’d bend a pillow and fuck it, thinking it was your pussy. And all along I thought you’d let me have my way with you. But I was so wrong.”

You grind and bounce at an adequate pace, your walls clenching around him, your ass slapping against the skin of his thighs everytime you come back down. Eddie relishes in the blissful haze hailed upon you, your eyebrows scrunched and raised, jaw slack as you let out mewls with the same volume as his. Almost to the point that the loud music can’t even drown out your euphoric cries.

The tears began forming from the stinging overstimulation, his cock twitching immediately and he feels so raw. His vigor shredded and he submits himself to you, laying and moaning beneath your sedulous fucking.

And he knows, even with the rubber separating his flesh to yours, that everything has changed. No one else could fuck him the way you do, the way you sucked him off, the way you ruled over him and his body. Eddie’s tears choke his moans, the ebony makeup spilling down to your white sheets, your nails scratching all over his tattoos as you bounce faster.

“Jesus. You fucking whore,” Your eyes roll to the back of your head, eyes slamming shut as you bounce. You glow with the sheen layer of sweat coating your body, breathtaking in all your pulchritudinous galore. Eddie traces the stretch marks on your thigh and thinks he’s never seen anything more beautiful than the rare sight of you all pleasured and his. “God, Eddie, you feel so amazing.”

Your head ducks, a sob coming out of you. Your heart palpitates, the shattering sensation of being fucked open by your best friend gives you blindsiding revelation that you would rather be with him than anyone else. Because the touch of his hands is nothing but comforting after your cruelty.

You bounce faster on his cock. Eddie’s tears are stained with gray rivulets, coming up to sit and push your chest against him so he can hug you. Your hand tangles itself on his unkempt hair, nails scratching his back, whereas he’s muffling his growls by biting on your shoulder. Eddie kisses his way to your neck, sucking and biting a love bite in.

“I’m close, bats,” he pants against your sweaty flesh. “I’m gonna fucking cum. I can’t hold it in.”

“Okay,” you nod, pulling away to press your forehead against his. You exchange breathy moans, your bounces now with the help of Eddie as you slowly lose your energy. “F-fuck. All this time I’ve been searching for some rando to fuck. Should’ve just gone to you.” He wedges his hand between your bodies, his fingers dancing across your clit that makes you bump your forehead harder with his. “Fuck, Eddie. Cum. I wanna feel you cum.”

Eddie keens on his orgasm, and so do you. Sobbing and mewling into each other’s mouths as your grinding slows down, feeling his warm cum fill his condom, your own climax covering the rubber. He runs his hands up and down your back, before they come up to your shoulder and cup your face, pushing your hair aside so he could kiss you.

A kiss sweeter and more innocent than the first one. Eddie takes your wet lips into his, soft with his pants and his touch. And with his lips still yours, he helps you kneel up to pull his softening cock out of your gaping cunt. You hiss lightly, a tear coating your eyelashes that he wipes away as he sits you down on his thigh.

“That’s it, mama,” his voice is raw and croaky, you rest your head on his shoulder, hands leaving you momentarily to pull his condom out. You watch as Eddie tiredly ties the condom, reaching the bin beneath your bed and throws it inside before he’s hugging you again, fingers rubbing your jaw and thigh. “You did good, bats. Tired?”

You nod your head. Eddie urges you to lay on the bed, where you lay on your side and prop your head up with your hand, He wipes the eyeliner off with the side of his thumb, eyes never leaving you.

“So,” you scratch the column of your neck. “That was intense. Didn’t know the Dungeon Master had it in him to call me mommy but, I wouldn’t complain.”

“Shut up,” he pushes on your shoulder, mimicking your position. Eddie’s fingers trace the curvatures of your waist, hovering over your stretch marks. “I didn't know you had it in you. Did you suck Harrington like that too?”

You laugh, hiding your eyes. “No. No, I never blew him. He’s very eager with giving head, it's insane.” Eddie smiles. “But he’s really good at it. He’s got a bit of a breeding kink. Kept whining about condoms but.”

“At least he’s good at giving head,” his rings are cold against your skin. Scooting closer, Eddie nestles his cheek on the side of his elbow. “So I know we literally just finished having sex but…are you still up for another?”

“Jesus, give me a break. I’m not a machine y’know,” he laughs.

“That’s not what I meant,”

You bite your lip nervously, taking his hand into yours and staring at the difference of its sizes. Your fingers were more slender than his, but his hand in general was bigger. “I’m still up to play house. I really liked the whole mommy thing.”

Eddie smiles, seraphic and pretty. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” you brush the curls away from his face. “Uncle Wayne wouldn’t be here for a couple hours. My parents are still out. So we can fuck for as long as we want.”

Your offer excites him. Eddie takes your cups your face and kisses you once more, deciding to worry about what would happen after all this later.

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pedriscroquettes · 9 months

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𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐀 – PABLO GAVI

summary. you try to forget about your crush with a certain midfielder.

warnings. switch!gavi, reader likes someone else, kind of public s3x?, & ruining friendships.

a/n. making a series based on some of my fav bad gyal songs <3!! this one is based off santa maria.

the apartment was full of people you knew yet, you felt alone. parties that the boys invited you to always ended up like this. with you alone. every time you thought you’d crossed new boundaries with the guys you were proved wrong with the way they quickly abandoned you for their other friends. at first you didn’t mind you barely knew them anyways but it started to annoy you when you realized you had started to fancy one of them.

your feelings for ferran scared you. you weren’t even sure if you liked him or if you just thought you did because of all the guys he was the one who payed attention to you the most. maybe it was because your love language was affection and every time he placed his arm around you, you couldn’t help but blush. you kept your hopes up that he would one day read your mind and would feel the same way. instead he showed up one day with a girlfriend he had apparently been dating for over a year.

you felt stupid and you still did at the current moment watching them dance together at gavi’s birthday party. you felt like an idiot for thinking that ferran actually liked you. you realized you looked creepy just staring at them so you made your way to backyard.

every time you came to gavi’s house you were always blown away by the view the young midfielder woke up to. you always knew barcelona was a beautiful city but seeing all of it from gavi’s backyard always put it into perspective for you. you’re too entranced by your confusing feelings you don’t realize someone is making their way towards you. it’s not until you’re face to face with gavi that you wipe the tears you didn’t know had formed.

“whiskey?” he offered you the bottle in his head.

“do you even drink whiskey?” you scoffed before laughing at his antics.

“oh, absolutely not. but it was a gift and who am i to say no?” he explained. “are you okay?”

you look up at him and he’s already looking at you with a caring look. it’s probably the most you’ve interacted with him and you wonder why because he seems so sweet.

“yeah-yes. you?” you tried to pretend you were fine.

“well apart from the fact that i wish i was back home rather than here? yeah, i’m fine.” he sighs.

there’s a moment of silence between the two of you but it isn’t awkward. it’s quite comfortable as the two of you just stare at the view. or at least that’s what you think because you’re oblivious to the way he scans your face studying it.

“he’s an idiot you know?” he speaks up.

“who?” ferran. your brain already knows the answer.

“ferran. we may be friends but i don’t like the way he leads you on.” he answers.

“no, it’s my fault i’m an idiot for thinking that there might be something between us.” you groan.

“are you seriously blaming yourself right now?” he begins to raise his voice. “he’s treating you like property and you’re defending him.”

“i’m sorry, are you mad at me? we aren’t even close for you to be so upset about this.” you scoff at his words.

“so, i can’t look out for you because we’re not buddies? that’s so stupid.” he rolls his eyes.

he’s so dramatic.

“there’s a difference between looking out for me and being mean and right now you’re being mean.” you try your best to keep your voice down not wanting to alarm the partying inside.

“how am i being mean?” he scoffs.

“you’re yelling at me for no reason. you and i haven’t even talked alone the whole time we’ve known each other and somehow you think you know what’s best for me. why are you even here? it’s your birthday.” you yell at him.

the more you argue the more he guides you to the side of his apartment. you’re too focused on getting final say in this stupid argument you barely notice how much you’ve been walking away from him until your back hits the wall. you’re trapped between him and the wall. your breath hitches when you see the close proximity between the two of you.

“are you even listening to me?” he asks as he notices how you’ve disassociated to the conversation.

“why are you so concerned with me and ferran?” you ask him softly.

“i just-” he sighs. “you deserve better.”

“you think i don’t know that? every time i see them together it hurts and i know i should move on but i can’t.” you start crying. “i just wish i could forget him.”

the next couple of seconds are a blur but the kiss he gives you is tender and sweet. his brown eyes meet yours as he waits anxiously for your reaction. his shyness kicks in and he’s internally panicking for his actions. sure on the pitch he was some intense player that wasn’t afraid of tackling anyone but with you it was different. he had never been able to muster the confidence to speak to you but now with alcohol and anger in his system he didn’t care anymore.

“i can help you.” he whispers. “forget him.”

you look at him to see if he’s joking but he’s looking at you with such an intensity that only proves he’s not joking. you’re at a loss for words not knowing what to say or even knowing what just happened.

“that’d be mean though.” you let out softly. “i don’t want to use you.”

“i’m asking you though. i want you to use me.” he can feel his cheeks heating up.

once again you stare at him. you don’t know exactly what you’re trying to see in him maybe it’s reassurance or something else. meanwhile, gavi is praying that he didn’t just make a big fool of himself. you step closer to him analyzing his features, his brown eyes boring into yours. they were intoxicating and they were pulling you in.

you think it’s a bad idea but you kiss him anyways. the kiss is hesitant but his lips are tender and he kisses you with so much fervor. you break away from him for a split second before throwing all your morals out the window and leaning in again. this time he cups your jaw with his hands and the kiss is longer and wetter. it’s not long before you’re full on making out with your back against the side of his apartment.

his lips start trailing down your neck leaving wet kisses all over your collarbone. while your hands make their way into his hair tugging it whenever he started sucking on your sensitive skin. the music could be heard from down the street so you don’t even try to suppress your moans which gavi is thankful for. he hasn’t even touched you yet and you’re somehow screaming for him already. he won’t admit it but it definitely boosts his ego.

“gavi wait.” you plead.

“did i do something wrong? sorry, are you okay?” his eyes grow wide with worry.

“no, it’s not that.” you try to compose yourself. “will everything be back to normal if we do this?”

“i-” he starts thinking. “i don’t know but we’ve already crossed boundaries.”

he’s right. friends don’t make out with each other. you shouldn’t even be out here with him. but the feeling of his lips on yours are stronger than your morals. so, you kiss him again.

“gavi?” you ask him.

“yeah?” he pants the make out proving to be a good exercise.

“fuck me.”

“yeah, sure i can do that.” he nods.

he was so cute. how unfortunate that you fell for ferran and not him.

you made it clear that you weren’t interested in foreplay but rather just a quick fuck that would distract. you mumbled a quick maybe next time to the midfielder when he insisted on making you feel good before getting straight into it. as soon as he gets the memo he lifts the bottom of your dress all the way up to your waist. as soon as he sees your panties he can feel his sweatpants getting tighter against him.

“fuck i don’t have a condom.” he groans.

“it’s okay i’m on the pill.” you assure him.

“oh-okay.” he can feel his heart racing.

although you didn’t let him pleasure you, you dip your hand into his pants. you can feel him shiver as you grab his length and begin pumping it. you pause momentarily and take your hand out again to spit on it. gavi on the other hand is close to cumming from the sight alone but he stops himself. if he’s gonna cum it’s going to be inside of you.

“fucking hell you’re good at that.” he groans as you move your hand up and down his shaft.

you pull him into another sloppy kiss and simultaneously lead his length towards your clothed core. you begin rubbing it up and down your core teasing yourself. soon, it’s gavi who grows impatient and quickly moves your panties to the side. the two of you make eye contact before he slides in. your nails dig down his arms as he thrust inside of you filling you to the hilt. he feels so good inside of you.

the pleasure is so much for him he begins releasing profanities all at once you barely understand him.

“is this okay?” he asks as he wraps your leg around his waist so he can hit you even deeper.

“fuck, yeah. you can move now.” you struggle to say.

he starts off slow pulling all the way out before filling you up again. as you close your eyes due to the pleasure he can only admire you. you always look pretty but you somehow have reached a new level of beauty under the moonlight with his dick inside of you. he’s never had such dirty thoughts before. he’s also lucky that he’s wearing a hoodie because your nails are digging so hard into his arms.

as he fastens the pace your hold on him gets stronger not wanting to let go. he sneaks one of his hands up your throat and cups your jaw.

“you look so pretty like this. all fucked up for me.” he rasps.

“just for you gavi.” you whine.

he can’t take it anymore so he turns you around and now your chest is against the wall. he begins thrusting into you even faster than before. you’re thankful he has his arm wrapped around your waist to balance you. his lips attack your neck desperately nipping at the skin wanting to mark you up. you don’t mind it at all or the way he begins to pull on your hair. quite frankly you thought he would be vanilla in bed. so, you’re blown away by his dominance.

“pablo, i’m close.” you whine.

“me too. come on cum for me.” he assures you.

you grow tighter around him before finally letting go. the feeling causing him to chase his own climax. you collapse against his chest and his heavy pants invade your ears. the two of you stay there against the wall trying to collect your breaths. he turns you around before kissing you. the kiss is sweet and long unlike the other ones.

“fuck, how are we going to go in like this?” he pants.

“we’ll just tell them we were laying down looking at the view or the truth which is that you fucked me.” you sigh.

he carefully takes you inside with his arm around your waist to provide you balance. and sure enough as if on cue the trio consisting of pedri, ferran, and eric approach you. when they ask about your appearance the two of you simply lie not owing them any explanation. pedri and eric buy the story not looking too much into it but not the valencian. he’s somehow the only one that notices the love bites on your neck and the way gavi’s hand creeps too close to your ass as the two of you walk away.

when he comes over the next day to ask about it you simply say that you don’t know what he’s talking about. you don’t understand why he’s so angry but quite frankly you don’t care because gavi is currently hiding in your bathroom.

#the only thing i’m proud of is the header #it’s so cute and it matches <3 #pablo gavi x reader #pablo gavi smut #pablo gavi imagine #gavi x reader #gavi smut #gavi imagine #football imagine #football smut #gabri writes

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bl4ckth0rn3 · 3 months

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Okay no fuck you guys it is 2am and I am gonna fucking rant cuz, respectfully, some of y'all are being so dumb. Like i get that different opinions are valid but the opinions are wrong and they're fuckin annoying as shit. More than anything, the criticism of the tv show changing details from the story is starting to really fucking piss me off.

1) the book is told from Percy’s perspective - there is NO WAY of making an adaptation 100% faithful from that because you don’t have insight into when he starts noticing when something’s wrong. To me, going into it knowing that Aunty Em was Medusa or Crusty was Procrustus made so much more sense. Not just because it made sense for the audience but also because we got to see how the characters acted in that situation.

2) PLUS, Percy is the definition of unreliable narrator. We finally see this shit from outside his dumbass-12-year-old-boy brain

3) if i see one more fucking comment about the solstice deadline passing I am gonna start throwing shit. It ADDED A NEW DIMENSION. It made it seem like all their work up until that point had been hopeless which was SO POWERFUL and gave us real insight into Percy's fucking resilience. Fuck yall.

4) the pearls as well. Not being funny, but that was literally one of the greatest changes. Wanna know why, fucknuts? BECAUSE the story wasn't just from Percy's POV which meant that we got more of Sally's backstory w Poseidon which means it makes sense that he would want to save her. He loves her.

5) the story is nearly 20 years old. Let Rick update it and write it the way he wants to write it in 2024. (Prime example: Medusa = still a villain, but acknowledged as a victim)

6) ABOVE ALL, THE MOST IMPORTANT THING ABOUT THIS ADAPTATION WAS STAYING TRUE TO THE CHARACTERS (which a certain film or two pointedly failed to do). The characters are why Rick wrote the book in the first place, giving his kids a place to feel seen in mainstream media and offering up really positive role models whilst he was at it. Percy is loyal, and determined, and kind, and brave. Annabeth is proud, and brilliantly intelligent, and strong, and independent. Grover is true, and just, and innocent, and good. If you all really can't see past changes that really didn't ultimately dramatically effect character development/more general plot progression then honestly i wonder what you ever thought you were gonna get out of it.

7) it’s Rick’s story. Let him do whatever the fuck he wants with the world he very kindly gifted to us. This was an excellent tv show, y’all are just bitter because it wasn’t copy+pasted from the book.

#pjo disney+ haters dni #percy jackson disney+#percy jackon and the olympians #pjo disney+#pjo series #pjo #pjo tv show #pjo spoilers #percy jackson #annabeth chase #grover underwood #the lightning thief #rick riordan

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mrsbarnesblog · 6 months

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barbie

masterlist ko-fi ao3

Summary: Bucky takes his best girl to watch a Barbie movie and then spoils her with gifts.

Word count: 1.3k

Warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, Bucky being the best boyfriend, he's healing your inner child.

Author's note: it was inspired by Barbie movie when it just came out. I think that Bucky is that type of boyfriend who would do everything possible to make you happy<3

You had been excited about the Barbie movie since the day you found out that it was in the making, and you may or may not have annoyed Bucky with it like a million times.

You begged him to go see it on the day of the premiere, and even if at first he really wanted to say “no”, he couldn’t.

Yes, he was your grumpy old supersoldier, but he would do anything to make you smile.

When the tickets started to sell, it was almost impossible to find one because people went crazy about this movie.

When you finally had time to look for the tickets, they were sold out. Obviously. Even if you didn’t say anything, Bucky saw sadness written on your face when you didn’t get the tickets for the opening night, and it hurt him to see you that way.

So, as the best boyfriend in the world, he got them for you.

Yes, there was definitely one good thing about being a famous Avenger: you could get almost everything.

You and Sam also taught him how to use TikTok a few months ago, and besides a million videos of cats, he started to see Barbie-related content. He wasn’t really interested until he saw a video where a guy bought his girlfriend a doll and a lot of pink and cute things as a surprise.

Would you like it if he bought this for you? Did you even like dolls?

Bucky didn’t think about it too much; he just went to the store.

He probably stood in front of the shelf with Barbie dolls for way too long because, while he was looking for the one he thought you would like, a shop assistant came to offer him some help. Bucky explained his situation, and the young girl—Stassie, as he found out—was almost jumping with excitement to help him and said that his girlfriend was really lucky.

She showed Bucky two dolls that came out recently: one in the western look and one in a light pink dress. It was hard to pick one because both were really cute.

So he bought both.

Stassie gave Bucky a few tips on what else he could buy for you; that's why, after another hour in the mall, he went home with a big box full of random pink and cute stuff.

You weren’t at home, so he hid the box in a safe place and decided to give it to you after the movie.

The day before the premiere, when you two were already getting ready to sleep, laying under the blanket and ready to cuddle while watching a movie, he silently gave you a white envelope.

“What is this?” You asked, looking at your weirdly smiley boyfriend.

“Open.”

You studied his face for a few seconds, but then sat up and carefully opened it to not rip whatever was inside.

“Bucky…” You whispered as two tickets with “Barbie” written on them fell into your hand. “You didn’t—how did you get it?” Your eyes were watery as you looked at him.

“That’s a secret. But I wanted to make you happy.” The soft look in his eyes made you want to cry, but instead you just jumped into his arms, leaving kisses all over his face.

“I fucking love you, James.”

“I love you more, doll.”

It was safe to say that he got his reward for being a thoughtful boyfriend, and you both fell asleep only a few hours later.

You two walked out of the movie theater holding hands while you were still sobbing a little bit. It was an amazing experience, and you were overwhelmed with feelings. Bucky led you to the side so you wouldn’t bother other people, wrapped his hands around you, and held you close to him.

“Are you okay, baby?” He mumbled into your hair and kissed your temple.

“Yes. I’m so happy that we watched it. And that you came with me.” You wrapped your hands around Bucky’s neck and melted into him.

“I liked it too, actually.” You heard a deep chuckle.

“You know, I told you that you look great in pink, and you didn’t believe me.”

You obviously decided to stick to a non-official dress code, but it was hard to convince your boyfriend that he needed to wear something pink too. So the only thing that he liked in the store was a pink jean jacket, and you were okay with that.

An old lady that sat in the movie theater behind you with her grandkids said to Bucky that he was a really good young gentleman and that you two were perfect for each other.

Bucky didn’t really like any interactions with strangers, but you still noticed a light pink color on his cheeks and a sweet smile that he gave to the woman.

“If you think so, I’ll accept it, baby.” He was silent for a few seconds, but then smiled again and cupped your face with his metal hand so you would look at him. “I have something for you at home. Do you want to go there now and then order some food?”

“Something for me?” You frowned at him but still leaned into his touch. “And you should know better than to ask me whether I want to order food or not. I always do.”

You were sitting in your living room on the couch, where Bucky told you to stay and wait for him. He went to your bedroom and came back in a few seconds, holding a big pink box.

“This is for you.” He put the box near you on the couch and sat on the free spot at the other end.

“For me? Why? I forgot about our anniversary or something?” You tried to laugh.

You opened the lid, and your mouth opened as you saw what was in there. Your shaking hands gently pulled out two boxes with dolls, and you took a few seconds to look at them properly, trying to blink away the tears in your eyes. Then you got the rest of the stuff: a pajama set, a journal, a candle, masks and bath bombs, and a lot of your favorite candies. Of course, everything was pink.

“I hope you like it. The girl at the store said–” You didn’t let him finish before you stood from your place and sat onto Bucky’s lap, hugging him as hard as you could, sobbing into his neck.

“Sh-h, baby, that’s okay.” He wrapped his arms around your body, gently swaying you from side to side.

“T-thank you so much, Bucky, really. You didn’t have to do it.” You moved back a little bit, and Bucky’s right hand immediately flew to your face to wipe away tears. You took one of the boxes with a doll on your lap and carefully took her out of the box. “She’s so pretty... I’ve never had a real Barbie before. They are expensive.”

“It is worth every dollar if it makes you happy. I saw this idea on that video app, and I wanted to give you something special.”

He looked at you with a soft smile while you were unpacking the second doll and then gently touching her hair and clothes. He thought that he gave this present more to the younger you, and it made him feel so happy.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” You put the doll down and took Bucky’s face in your hands. “I am so lucky to have such a person in my life. Thank you for everything. Not only for dolls, it’s all amazing. I love you, James.” You closed your eyes when he moved closer and put his forehead on yours.

“I’m the one who is lucky to have you. I’ll give you anything if it makes you smile this way. I love you.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #bucky x you #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x you

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iateyourparents · 5 months

Note

hii I love your work 🙈🙈 can you do one with colby where the reader is a medium and the place is like really active?

medium | c.b.

pairing: colby brock x fem!medium!reader

summary: you’re a guest in sam and colby’s video.

warnings: use of y/n, the place they are exploring is totally made up by me, bad writing and grammar(sorry, english isn’t my first language)

an: thank you so much for this idea, i hope you’ll like it <3

“What’s up guys! It’s Sam and Colby!” Colby started video “Today we will be exploring this house” he pointed camera at the big white house behind him.

“It’s Mallory’s house.” Sam added ”The place where Mallory watched her family being murdered and then died there herself because of starvation.” he explained “People says she and her family to this day are there. Also, there’s a rumor that Mallory is waiting for the killer to come back to take her revenge. But we’ll tell you about it later!” he clapped his hands.

“But we’re not alone here.” Colby said and waved at you so you stood between them „For the first time ever, my girlfriend y/n will be investigating with us!”

“And it’s even more exciting because she is a medium.” sam moved his eyebrows suggestively and you laughed quietly “Y/n how are you feeling about it?”

“Excited, that will be the first time ever I will actually try to use my ‚gift’ intentionally.” you smiled at camera “I guess it won’t be hard since I already can feel this house.”

“Oh what do you feel?” Colby asked curiously.

“There is certainly something. I can’t really say yet if it’s good or how it feels about us being here but it’s not threatening.” you explained “I think it’s curious what we will do.”

“Good to know.” Sam smiled at you and then smiled mischievously at the camera and then at Colby “I have some surprise for you Colby.” he stated “When I was doing research I found some rumor that I didn’t tell you about.”

“What’s going on?” Colby already could tell he probably won’t like this.

“So like I said, there’s this rumor that, like you know, Mallory is waiting for her family’s killer to come back to have her revenge, but there’s also this thing that apparently she’s targeting mans that are similar to the killer.” he explained “And guess what? You have brown hair, blue eyes and you’re tall and pale, just like Many!” he cheered and you laughed while Colby sighed with resignation.

“Great” he said ironically „Let’s go, we can’t keep Mallory waiting to hurt me.”

“Don’t worry, I will save you.” you joked and he smiled softly at you and kissed your cheek.

“I feel safer now.”

|||

After your guide left you alone in the house you started to feel stronger emotions.

“I’m not sure why but now I feel everything stronger. It’s like guide was calming them.” you explained to the camera.

“They already were familiar with guide so maybe he made Mallory feel safer and now, without him here, she keeps her guard up.” Sam offered and you agreed that it was possible.

„So y/n, what do you feel, can you see something?” Colby pointed camera at you again.

„Yeah, I feel that here are few people but I can only see one. It’s a little girl standing next to the staircase. She’s observing us but she’s nice one.” you assured them „ I think it’s Mallory’s sister, Naya?”

You could see the little girl nodding and you smiled softly at her.

„Yes, it’s her.” you said „I have no idea who is it but there’s one spirit that is the strongest and definitely isn’t the nicest. Not bad or threatening but also isn’t inviting.” you stated „I can feel strong emotions like sadness and nostalgy. I think they might be trapped here.”

„That’s interesting.” Sam looked impressed „So only Naya is with us in the room?”

„No, there’s at least two more spirits but only Naya let me see her.”

„Okay, so I think we can start with a spirit box.” Colby offered.

|||

You were going from room to room and now you had only two more rooms left.

Mallory’s bedroom and playroom where Mallory was left by a murderer to die from starvation.

You were about to come into her bedroom when you started feeling weird.

„I feel uncomfortable.” you said and boys said they also felt like that „I don’t think she likes us very much.”

„So Mallory is in her room?” Colby asked and finally you all went into the said room.

„Yeah, I think she was here the whole time because I felt her before but only now I feel her presence so much.” you said.

„Okay, let’s start.” Sam pointed camera at himself and started talking „Hey Mallory, we’re sorry if you don’t like us but we’re coming in peace. We only want to share your story with the world. We don’t want to mess with you or disrespect you.”

You all heard knocks.

„Thank you for listening to us.” Colby said „We will use this box, it’s called spirit box and you can talk to it and it will communicate it to us.”

„I’m not sure what’s going on but I just started to feel really weird.” you stated and Sam pointed the camera at you „I feel uneasy, like something is about to happen. I think she doesn’t like the spirit box.”

„Oh, we are sorry Mallory, but we promise it won’t do anything to you, it only will help us to communicate with you.” Sam explained.

Colby turned on the spirit box and it immediately said „hurt”.

„Killer hurt you?” Sam asked and box said yes after a moment.

„Do you want a revenge on Many?” Sam asked and immediately after he said killer’s name you all could hear thud, like someone punched the wall.

Boys continued to ask questions but you keep quietly trying to breathe evenly. The feeling of uneasiness only got stronger and you felt as you were choked. Suddenly it stopped but the uncomfortable feeling stayed.

Your intuition was alarming you and you looked ay Colby. You could feel something you couldn’t name.

Your head started to pound and you felt need to sit down. You sat down on the floor and boys looked at you with concern.

„What happened?” Colby stood next you „You okay?”

„Yeah, I just felt like I need to sit down or I will fall.” you explained „My head hurts.”

„Do you want us to do a break? We can go outside for a moment.” Colby offered and wanted to help you up but you only waved him off.

„No, I’m okay. It’s getting better. We can continue but I need to sit for a moment, I don’t trust my legs right now.” you laughed and boys nodded but you could see they were keeping careful eye on you. They went back to asking questions.

You actually started to feel better but you couldn’t shake off the bad feeling that something was about to happen.

„Guys.” you said alarmed after a moment when you felt something „We should go to the other room. She doesn’t want us here.” just as you said it, the spirit box said „yes” and „get out”.

„Alright, lets go to the playroom.”

You changed rooms and started investigating. You still felt uncomfortable and your headache was coming back even harder but you said nothing not wanting to interrupt their conversation with Naya.

Suddenly Colby hissed „Fuck, something scratched me!” he explained and lifted his shirt showing two red lines running down his stomach.

You looked at him concerned but before you could ask if he’s okay your vision started to get blurry and you lost balance and if Colby wasn’t next you you would fall.

„Hey, hey, you with us?” you could hear concern in Sam’s voice while Colby carefully sat with you on the floor.

„Yeah, I just felt this uneasiness and headache when suddenly my vision became blurry and I couldn’t keep my balance.” you explained, blinking to make your vision clearer.

Then you felt something new and somehow you knew what that meant.

„Something is trying to target Colby.” you said and boys looked surprised „I think it’s Mallory. Sam, you said she’s targeting people having similarities with the killer?”

„Yes.” Sam confirmed while looking with concern at Colby.

„I’m not sure how but I think I already knew she was targeting him and I unconsciously was trying to shield him somehow but when she scratched him it also affected me.”

„Shield me?” Colby asked with confusion.

„I can’t explain this but when I see or feel a spirit I have some control over him. It’s like authority thing. It knows I know they are there so they aren’t sure about me. She must feel I care about you and it was harder for her to attack you but she tried.” you said and boys looked impressed.

„Amanda said something similar last time.” Sam said „Spirits doesn’t like mediums because they are afraid of their abilities. It must affect them somehow.”

„Yeah” you nodded.

„Are you feeling okay now? Do you want to stop, take a break?” Colby looked at you concerned but you denied.

„I’ll be okay but we should work faster and get out of here. Mallory doesn’t like us and I think she’s trying to hurt you.” you said, last part mainly to Colby who just nodded but didn’t stood up from where he was holding you behind you.

Sam understood what Colby wanted to do and also sat on the floor.

„We will continue investigating sitting in case y/n feel worse.” Sam informed viewers and you felt grateful.

„Mallory, what y/n said was true?” Colby asked „Do you want to hurt me but she’s stopping you?” you could hear a thud in answer. It was loud and very close to you three. „Is it because I remind you of Many?” again thud, this time even louder.

„We are sorry that Colby reminds you ab…” something interrupted Sam’s. And by something you meant a weird scratching sound that was dangerously close to Colby’s back.

„What the hell?” Colby looked at the floor behind him but there was nothing, then he suddenly yelped and his head leaned back, then he said „Something just…like pulled me by hair.”

„What the hell?” you narrowed your eyebrows and looked around the room „Mallory is angry.”

„Should we go?” Sam looked at you but before you could say anything doors to the playroom closed themselves „What the fuck.”

„I think she doesn’t want us to leave just yet.” Colby furrowed his brows and you heard knocks.

„Okay, Mallory were you the one who pulled Colby’s hair?” you asked after Sam turned on the spirit box. It immediately confirmed.

You wanted to say something more but you started to feel nauseous and your headache was back. You felt like you couldn’t move or even open your mouth, your vision became blurry and you couldn’t hear anything, just ringing.

And when you were in this state Mallory again attacked Colby, this time making bigger three scratches on his arm.

„Hey, what’s with y/n?” Sam asked concerned after they inspected Colby’s wound. Colby looked at you and immediately tried to shake you off this trance. He succeeded but only after few seconds.

„We should get out” you said panicked. You felt very off and you could feel yourself shaking „I can’t explain it but if we stay here someone’s gonna get hurt badly.” you stated and felt like someone placed their hand on your neck. You reached there and touch was gone but Sam gasped.

„Your neck, it has handprint.” he showed it to the camera and Colby immediately got up and helped you. You started taking your things when there was next thud.

„Mallory and everyone else, you can’t follow us out of the house and you can’t hurt us. You are not allowed to.” Colby said sternly and you all walked out of the house and when Sam reached to close the door after you, they closed themselves.

„Holy shit, I’m not sure if we ever got so much evidence.” Sam sighed and looked at the camera that was still recording „I think it was caught on camera how they closed.”

He stopped recording and you get into the car where boys decided to record outro and then Colby drove to your hotel.

„Are you sure you okay?” Colby asked for the hundred time since you got to your room.

„Yes, Colbs, I’m good.” you kissed his cheek.

„Promise me you will never again try to shield me. Not if it’s gonna affect you like that.” he asked „It pained me to even look at how you looked there, it was like you were about to leave your body. Don’t scare me like that ever again please.” he kissed your forehead and hugged you tighter.

You rolled your eyes, like you could ever let something happen to him if you could stop that.

„Can’t promise you that Colby, I love you too much to let something get to you.” you kissed him.

#colby brock x reader #colby brock #colby #sam and colby #snc #katrina stuart #sam golbach

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romihearts · 6 months

Text

bf headcannons ! ┊second years , first years

synopsis. how they would be as your bf!

content. gn reader, intended lowercase, swearing

her notes. 3rd year ver might get delayed wrhshshshaah

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS * ˚ ✦

strict yet caring !

love is quite a foreign concept to him, but he'll try his best to make you feel special <33

tea party dates are a must! its more commonly held inbetween the maze, where it's secluded and leaves the two of you alone

will always help you with academics, while you, in return, help him with de stressing !!

just seeing you makes riddle melt, but if he sees you in heartslabyul uniforms he'd feel as if he fell inlove all over again

love language? words of affirmation, he'll write essays or poems just to describe the absolute masterpiece of you

RUGGIE BUCCHI * ˚ ✦

would seriously give you the world!

even the small things matter, like him giving you his donut if he found out you haven't eaten yet.

its quite uncommon but he'd make you small flower crowns :3 he thinks you look so much better with them

would definitely be willing to escape leona's orders just to be with you!

love language? definitely an acts of service or quality time typa guy. he'd wipe any crumbs of food near your mouth unexpectedly and laught about how cute you are.

AZUL ASHENGROTTO * ˚ ✦

orders jade and floyd around to find you around campus when you aren't with him fr

when he's showing his #corporateceoboss side, he'll definitely wrap his hand around you waist and act cool but behind closed door he'd be very clingy!

asking not to go with a very very sweet smile. then immediately offering anything you want from the lounge just to stay, which you eventually do.

he'd love spoiling you, saying that you'd look spectacular in this or that, but in the end it doesn't matter to azul because you'll always be perfect for him in anyway !!

his love language? gift giving !! he'd give you so much that sometimes you don't know where to put anymore of his gifts because you have so much

FLOYD LEECH * ˚ ✦

he'd bite

or sometimes back hug you a bit too hard

but he definitely bites you randomly :3

but that doesn't take away from the fact he really loves you dearly <3 he'd geniunely do anything to protect you

he definitely shows that you're his favourite person, always showering you with love and flirting with you.

his love language? physical touch !! he loves squeezing hugging you, he can never get enough of you !!

JADE LEECH * ˚ ✦

definitely super courteous with you, a literal gentleman!

he'd fix astray strands of your hair, or crumpled parts of your uniform then tell you how nice you look.

unlike his brother, i find him to prefer leaving kisses on your hand or forehead.

oh he'd definitely gift you flowers too !! especially with a note saying that you're as perfect as said flowers

overall total gentleman, yet there are times where he gets a bit threatening to others, but he somehow keeps his composure ?? you truly question him on that.

his love language? words of affirmation, he'll always love to compliment you and make comments wondering how he even got you.

KALIM AL-ASIM * ˚ ✦

everyday with him is definitely very chaotic, from carpet rides or random adventures, campus life is definitely not dull.

he'd for sure spoil you with whatever you want! if he notices you looking a bit too long at a specific item, guaranteed that he'll get it for you almost immediately

like azul, he also loves giving you gifts, like big plushy bears for example. he'd get you one and say that it's as soft as you

he may be oblivious sometimes when you try some pick up lines on him yet whenever he does get some, it will never leave his mind. like you ?!?! thinking of that about him ?!?!

his love language? gift giving. self explanatory, he'll always give you anything in the world!

JAMIL VIPER * ˚ ✦

he'd be quite distant when you two first meet, buuttt after enough pushing from kalim he'll talk to you

but prior to that he definitely had a crush on you, pining for you yet he hasn't really gotten close to you yet hence, he had kalim to push him to talk to you

he'd be a very caring boyfriend, after looking over kalim for almost his entire life he's pretty used to it !

he would love cooking you meals, and would definitely supervision you when you're sick. like, constantly checking your temperature, telling you to just rest, etc.

his love language? acta of service, he'll always be there to help you when you need him !!

SILVER * ˚ ✦

cuddles with him are common! especially when both of you are sleepy and drift off to dreams in each others arms.

definitely very soft and understanding with you

he'd take you to secluded and tranquil places around the forests where both of you can talk about anything while slowly getting sleepy.

he'd take you to the equestrian club aswell and help you ride the horses

if you do learn and know how, he'd have some small competitions with you !!

his love language? qualiy time, just being with you already calms him down and brings him to peace <3

738 notes · View notes

buckybarnesss · 8 months

Note

the fact that nobody called Derek out on his sudden "no, no, we shouldn't immediately murder" attitude in season 3B is so funny

Derek killed Peter, Jackson, and wanted to kill Lydia, but when it's Stiles? Nope, suddenly non-violence is the only answer.

it's one of the things i love about 3B so, so, so much.

i think the only people who could reasonably call derek on it would be scott and peter. scott may have noticed but he wouldn't have on this. not when he was desperate. peter sort of did when derek became focused on the chessboard but instead he was kind of helpful about it. perhaps taking a little pity on his nephew.

riddled is such a great episode for various reasons. scott is terrified of what's happening to stiles. the look on his face when isaac suggests after seeing stiles room that it's insanity all but screams scott is thinking about claudia just like the sheriff is. scott may not have known the name of the disease claudia had but he knew enough. it's the first time scott sees the bite as a gift when he all but offers it to stiles. a last resort because they both know stiles really doesn't want it but it's an option and one claudia never had.

but what gets me is scott immediately calls derek. he's scared about stiles's wellbeing. scott hates involving derek in things and usually only contacts him as a last resort but not here.

scott may willfully put his fingers in his ears and close his eyes to the stiles and derek dynamic but we spent time on him realizing that stiles and derek made friends without him in 3A.

so he calls derek knowing derek will help.

derek is the most transparent we ever see him in 3B. derek enjoys having a certain amount of mystery about him with scott and company. he likes his local cryptid status with them. keeps them on their toes.

like yeah derek mellowed somewhat in season 3 but when stiles is in danger all his known methods and strategies go out the window.

he's teaching chemosignals to scott. he's revealing he knows stiles by scent well enough to be able to tell that stiles was having a fight with himself. he's purposefully seeking out argent to gauge how much of a threat he is to stiles.

he investigates what happened on the night with barrow and even takes kira along for the investigation. same guy who saw lydia was immune to a werewolf bite and went "yep absolutely the kanima gotta kill her" instead of looking for other reasons.

this man doesn't even investigate himself when he's losing his powers the next season. derek baby what you doing?

the nogitsune so called him out this by using his loft as essentially a safe place to hide from the oni. it purposefully used derek as protection right beside the sheriff because neither of them could kill stiles and it knew that.

stiles spent 2.5 seasons gaining derek's trust. stiles is the one who learns about derek's past and checks on his wellbeing. stiles is the one who makes an effort to understand him. the only two people we ever see offer derek comfort are stiles and cora.

stiles earned derek's trust so much by this point not only would derek do just about anything to protect stiles but stiles became his anchor.

the derek hale committee for the protection and safety of stiles stilinski founded 2011.

#my blog #thoughts on teen wolf #teen wolf #sterek

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loose-angel · 1 year

Text

My Princess | Neteyam

pairing: Neteyam x na'vi! reader summary: What happens when you suddenly realize your feelings for your childhood best friend, Neteyam Sully? tags: fluff, miscommunication (a tiny bit), just cute stuff :3, childhood friends to lovers w/c: 1.8k notes: aaaaaa i hope u guys like this T T took me sooooo long to write,, i still have crazyyyyy writers block but im doing my best to make the best shit for this community <333 anw enjoy the read!!

You had grown up incredibly close to Neteyam. Watching as his youthful features had turned sharp, watching as he filled out his body, shoulders broadening, voice deepening, and muscles forming. Truth be told, you had not entirely noticed the change. You saw him everyday, it was almost a routine to be around one another, whether you’re dining with the Sullys, or Neteyam (and his siblings) dining at yours, you two were attached by the hip. Inseparable. So it came as a surprise to you when one day, you suddenly noticed just how much your best friend had changed.

He greeted you in the morning, just like every morning, both him and Lo’ak offering you flowers they picked out on the way to your house. It was more of a brotherly-love action than anything else. Though you noticed something different.

“Good morning princess,” Neteyam smirked as Lo’ak bowed, offering his flower obnoxiously.

Was Neteyam’s voice always this low? Did his smile always make you feel fluttering in your stomach? Since when did his arms get so big?

“Morning losers,” You cleared your throat, bashful, you looked away, letting your braids cover your eyes. “Thanks for the flowers.” you grab the flowers out of their hands and place them in a vase along with the rest of the flowers they had gifted you this week.

“So what’s the plan today?” You ask.

Lo’ak throws an arm around you, pulling your body into his, “No idea, why don’t you play dolls with Kiri or something.” You rolled your eyes.

“Yeah, you know what? I’d rather spend time with Kiri than your sorry asses.” With that, you began sprinting towards the Sully home. As you ran, you hear similar steps behind you. You turn around and are met with the sight of the two Sully brothers chasing after you. You squeal. You picked up the pace, light on your toes.

Your fear dissipates as you approach the entrance to the Sully household, you were a few feet away when you felt a heavy impact on your body. You fall to the ground with a grunt.

You look up at your attacker, hissing.

“So sorry princess,” Neteyam fusses, pushing himself up to make it so that he is hovering over you, instead of putting his entire body mass on your small frame. This was usual between the two of you. You guys always wrestled and more often than not, Neteyam wins those sessions. So why is it now that you flush under his gaze? Before you approach your conclusion, Neteyam waves a hand in front of your face.

“Get up lazy skxawng!” Lo’ak snickers as he passes the both of you. You push yourself up and dust your loin cloth, clearing your throat.

You hated how you were so affected over his little nickname for you. Neteyam (and Lo’ak) have been calling you princess ever since you three learned how to talk. Again, it was more of a brotherly-love kind of thing, especially because you grew up with no other siblings after you. So they decided to become your brothers, yet now, you can’t seem to feel anything less than a crush on your mock ‘older brother’.

Kiri steals you away from her brothers the moment you step foot in their home, dragging you into a rather isolated corner.

“Y/N! I feel there’s something you’re not telling me,” She grinned, peering up at you cheekily. There was nothing to hide from Kiri, you told her every single thing that has ever happened to you, and she does the same.

“I’m not hiding anything.” You muttered. You hid nothing except your raging crush on her older brother, but she didn’t need to know that.

“Are you sure?” Kiri leans in, “Are you sure you’re not gonna tell me about your crush on my older brother?” You gasped, hands flying to cover her mouth. How did she find out? You could’ve sworn that you didn’t tell anyone, at all!

Kiri licks your palm, forcing you to let go. “So my suspicions were right,”

“Kiri rutxe, don’t tell anyone, especially him,” You nod in Neteyam’s direction, the both of you look over. The eldest Sully has Tuk on his hip, bouncing around and whispering jokes into their youngest’s ear, it’s an endearing sight. One that has your heart clenching and mind racing. One that lets your mind wander into the life of a family with Neteyam.

“I won't, but your ogling heart eyes won’t help hide it.” Kiri interrupted your thoughts, rolling her eyes, falling onto her side. Your eyes shift from the siblings to the na’vi girl. You bit your lip.

“Yeah, yeah, okay, I’ll try to hide it better.”

A few days had passed, and in this time span, you decided to completely hide yourself from Neteyam, which was a pretty difficult job. He had gone to your house for the first two days, and you had kindly asked your parents to turn him away with the lame excuse that you were sick.

On the third day, Lo’ak comes knocking at your door.

“Lo’ak, why are you here, I told mama to not let Neteyam in.” You sighed, eyeing down the na’vi boy who now leans against the entrance to your ‘room’.

“Yeah tsmukan, not me, skxawng.” Lo’ak plops himself into your hammock, pushing against your limbs rather roughly. You scooch over and he lays next to you, throwing an arm over your waist.

“So why are you avoiding us?” He hummed, leaning to look over at you. You turn your head to avoid his gaze.

Over the course of your isolation, you pondered over your feelings. Coming to accept that you simply couldn’t live a life without Neteyam. You tried imagining a life with the other clan members but nothing felt the same. Hell, you even tried imagining Neteyam with another mate, and your mind simply couldn’t conjure up an image. You didn’t want to tell anyone. If news spread that you, a simple Omaticaya girl, had great feelings for Neteyam, the future olo’eyktan, the whole clan would laugh at you. Yet you couldn’t bring yourself to lie to Lo’ak.

“I needed time to think,” You mumbled, hoping your answer would stave off his curiosity for the time being. Lo’ak only hummed, waiting for you to continue. “I needed to figure out my feelings.”

“For tsmukan right?” You audibly gasped, did Kiri tell him?

“Don’t go crazy, I figured it out on my own, it’s not like it wasn’t blaringly obvious anyway.” You groan and tuck your face away from the world. How many more people have noticed?

“You better tell him soon, or some other girl might snatch him.” Lo’ak sing-songed, placing a foot on the ground to rock the hammock from side to side.

“Fine, fine, you convinced me,” You rolled your eyes, “I just want to get it over with anyway.” Just as you said, you hoped that you can get these feelings behind you as fast as possible and return back to normal. Truthfully, the past few days were absolutely miserable without Neteyam’s presence, but you simply couldn’t bring yourself to hang out with him. It was difficult to just look over your new found feelings for your best friend and you actually felt like it was unfair to him for you to do such a thing, taking advantage of him not knowing about your feelings for him for some kind of gratitude.

Though, today was different. Today you were going to meet up with Neteyam, tell him how you feel, you’ll laugh at it for a minute or two, and resume your normal lives, nothing could go wrong.

After a few hefty minutes of searching, you finally find Neteyam in a calmer, less dense area of the forest. You make no effort to conceal your presence as you approach him. He’s turned away from you, yet his ears tell you that he’s well aware that it’s you who is nearing him.

“Ma’Neteyam,” You greet softly, reaching out your hand, you run the tips of your fingers on the side of his arm, the muscle tensing underneath your touch.

“Ma’Y/N,” He turns to you, gaze hardened, “My princess, where have you been?”

Your ears flatten against your head underneath the boy’s gaze. You knew it was wrong to basically cut contact for a few days but you had to! There was nothing else you wanted to do at that time but to get to the bottom of your feelings, and now, you know. You know that you’re so deeply in love with your best friend that it pains you to imagine him with someone else, though there is not much you could do about it.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to –” Before you could continue, Neteyam wraps his arms around you and pulls you into his chest, nuzzling his nose onto the top of your head. The both of you sink into the hug, muscles gradually relaxing. Although you would love to stay like this, in his arms, until the end of eternity, you still needed to come clean to Neteyam.

After a while, you pull your head away from his chest.

“Neteyam,” You called out, peering up at him through your eyelashes. “I must tell you something.”

He hums and says nothing more, opening his eyes, his soft gaze meeting yours.

“I promise you’re gonna laugh your ass off after hearing this, but here I go,” You take a breath, “I like you, Neteyam. Hell, I love you even! I spent the last few days away from you because I needed to figure it all out, I just suddenly felt. . . everything for you.” You shift your eyes away from his own towards the end of your confession. You wait a beat or two, waiting for a chuckle, a laugh, anything.

“I don’t want anything from you ma’Neteyam, I just wanted to get this off my chest and we can go back to normal.” You look back up at the boy, now nervous over his lack of reaction. He’s just looking at you. You try to decipher what he’s thinking, yet his eyes tell you nothing. His ears are flat against his head, and his tail is swinging wildly behind him, but he has yet to say a word.

“Are you serious?” He muttered. You gulped nervously.

You had prepared yourself for a scenario that Neteyam wouldn’t find any of this funny and your relationship with him would fade away as you know it, yet all the preparation in the world won’t save you from the intense heartache that you feel rising.

Before you could say anything else, Neteyam picks you up into his arms.

“Princess this is great!” He grins, spinning you around, you squeal in shock, hands tight on his wrists as he continues to spin you.

“I thought you had begun to hate me, I’m so glad you like me too Y/N, you have no idea how long I’ve waited for you to feel the same about me!” Neteyam is rambling at this point, his hands still holding onto your waist even after he sets you back on the ground.

“You like me too?” You trailed off, you could barely process what was reality at this point. Though the warmth that bubbled in your chest suggested otherwise.

“I always did Yawne.”

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