love how there are pretentious video essays that just repeat the book and meander and ramble about house of leaves. it's what zampanó would have wanted. it is not, however, what I want
1 note
·
View note
Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries
Day 9 of TUI-Mas
Warnings: pregnancy, angst, mention of Harris's bio mom, happy ending I swear
WC: 1.5k
September 1999
Another school year is underway, the warm weather slightly chilled with the beginnings of an autumn breeze. The leaves remain on the branches of the oak tree in front of Jeff and Viv’s house, providing a sliver of shade as you walk up the front steps.
The two of you try to get together once in a while for a mom lunch; Eddie usually brings Harris over to play with Ettie while he and Jeff reminisce about the good old days of Hellfire Club and playing pranks on Principal Higgins. Today, however, Harris is at Wayne’s for some “Grampa-Har Bear bonding time,” so you and your husband are on your own.
“You look gorgeous,” Eddie murmurs in your ear as you ring the doorbell, hearing the chime softly echo from within the house. “Wish that wasn’t a maternity dress so you could wear it all the time.”
You roll your eyes at his flirtatiousness, a giggle giving away how tickled you are at the compliment. You truly do feel beautiful in this dress; the skirt swishes around your ankles with each gentle movement like you’re a princess.
Viv opens the door with a smile far too wide for someone who can’t get a cocktail with her entree. “Come on in, head into the kitchen and grab some water. It’s still pretty hot out there.”
“But then I’ll have to pee.” Your unborn son seems to enjoy using your bladder as a makeshift drum set; Eddie has been telling Gareth that he’ll have some competition for the band’s percussionist once the baby arrives. Still, you oblige, trudging towards the overhead cupboard to grab a—
“SURPRISE!”
Your heart leaps at the burst of voices; you bring a palm to your chest. “Wh-What?”
“It’s your baby shower, my love.” Eddie stands behind you and rests his head on your shoulder, hands wrapping around your bump. “To celebrate Baby Munson.”
“Oh, my God.” Tears spring to your eyes and roll down your cheeks in rivulets, no doubt smearing the mascara you’d applied before arriving. You give Viv a squeezing hug—the best you can manage with both of you pregnant—and turn to the group of people in her living room.
Robin and Jess jump up from the sofa to embrace you, and your co-workers whom Viv’s invited follow suit. You get choked up yet again when you spot Max Mayfield next in line to greet you.
“Did you really fly in for this?” you ask incredulously, pulling back to get a better look at her. She’s cut her bright red hair a little shorter so it frames her face and her blue eyes hold the exhaustion from her demanding doctorate program, but she’s still the same Max you know and love.
She nods enthusiastically. “I wouldn’t miss this for the world.” She leans in and whispers, “I knew you were the one for Eddie from the first time I saw how he looked at you. Like you’re this flower that blooms no matter the weather.”
“Okay, Almost-Doctor of English literature,” you tease her poetic waxing. Jane Hopper shyly steps out from behind her and you hug her as well.
Viv clears her throat to grab the party’s attention. “Thank you all for being here today,” she begins timidly, not used to having all eyes on her. “Since Baby Munson seems to have a major sweet tooth, we’re skipping a formal lunch and going straight to dessert!” Her announcement is met with cheers and she directs the guests towards the abundance of cakes and cookies in the kitchen.
You’re pulled towards the scent of freshly-brewed coffee, still steaming in the carafe. “That one’s decaf,” Viv informs you, pointing to the pot on the left hand side. You pick it up, careful not to burn your knuckles on the hot glass, and tilt it into a paper cup with Showers of Love for Baby Munson stamped on the side.
“Should you be drinking coffee?” Genuine concern seeps from Eddie’s words. “I mean, is it safe for the baby?” Before you can respond, he’s taking the cup from your grasp and placing it on the kitchen counter.
You furrow your brows, the tiniest disbelieving laugh escaping your lips. There’s no way he’s serious, right?
“Eds, it’s decaf,” you reassure him, still unsure of his intentions. “Besides, having a little bit of coffee isn’t going to hurt the baby.” You reach for the cup, but he just pushes it back farther from you.
His jaw steels, carefully mulling over his words despite his building frustration towards your dismissiveness. “Right, but it still contains trace amounts of caffeine. And it could stunt his growth and lead to, like, brain development issues.”
“Look,” you seeth, a hushed tone poorly masking your raging hormones, “I don’t need you hovering over me, okay? Do you not trust me or something?”
“I do. I do trust you.” But there’s a telltale pause beforehand that makes you believe otherwise. He notices your small step back, a dagger dangling just above your heart. “Sweetheart, it’s–”
You walk away with a shake of your head, determined to enjoy your baby shower. Eddie is a protective person–it’s one of his qualities that you most admire–but this errs on the side of controlling.
Dutifully, you sit down on your chair at the head of the Reynolds’ living room, digging into a slice of vanilla sponge cake and easing back into the upbeat atmosphere. You unwrap boxes of cartoon-stamped shirts and onesies, the tiniest clothing articles you’ve ever seen. Max has even managed to find a pajama set with the outline of an electric guitar stitched on the front. Your lap overflows with bottles, crib sheets, and pacifiers while Eddie hangs back in the kitchen.
“This last one is just a little something we all chipped in for,” Jess announces, excitedly thrusting a small envelope in your direction. You tuck your thumb under the seal and open it, revealing a gift card to Enzo’s.
“For your first date night after Baby Munson’s arrival,” Viv chimes in, her fingers curling around her own coffee cup. “Jeff and I will babysit,” she offers kindly. “It’s important to keep the romance alive.”
Robin scoffs from her corner of the sofa. “Yeah, like these two will have a problem with that.” She playfully rolls her eyes. “If you look up ‘lovesick’ in the dictionary, you’ll find their pictures.”
Your cheeks burn with embarrassment’s heat as everyone else agrees with her. From the corner of your eye, you see Eddie pouring a fresh cup of decaffeinated coffee and preparing it just as you like it. He shuffles into the room, his empty hand shoved into his front pocket. The brush of his lips on your scalp is an apology, a sentiment you both echo and accept with a squeeze of his forearm.
“See?” Robin continues with a teasing grin. “Absolutely sickening.”
“Thank you guys,” Eddie says, resting his palms on your shoulder as you take a sip of coffee. “For the gift card, for the shower, for always supporting us.”
You place your hand on your bump and nod. “Baby Munson is already feeling the love,” you agree. As if emphasizing your point, he softly kicks within your womb in a heartbeat-esque flutter.
The car ride home is quiet but not uncomfortable, you and Eddie unwinding after the eventful day. Angus Young croons in the background as Eddie speaks.
“I trust you.” His fingers hover over your thigh, hesitant to touch you if you’re still angry with him. “And I know you’re not…I know this isn’t like with Harris…” He stumbles over his words, trying not to offend you while still making a point.
“Eds.” You hold his hand in yours, eyes shiny with understanding. The unconditional love you have for Harris, the ease with which he calls you ‘Mommy,’ often has you forgetting that you’re not his biological mother. “I’ll never, ever do anything to hurt our children. I feel bad enough when I accidentally step on Harris’s toes.” You lean over and kiss his cheek, leaving a remnant of lipstick on his stubble. “Decaf coffee, in moderation, is fine during pregnancy.”
Eddie lets go of you to rub the swell of your stomach. “Little man’s not gonna be doing backflips in there?” he asks with a mischievous grin, the tension between you dissipating.
You laugh and shake your head. “Nope, just doing his best Pelé impression,” you say with a wince as the baby kicks again.
He notices when you stifle a yawn moments later. “I’ll wake you when we get home,” he promises, lowering the radio so you can rest.
You’re lulled to sleep as he drives, hearing him hum along with the music under his breath. Since your eyes are closed, you don’t catch the way he looks over at you and smiles.
“Love you, sweet girl,” he whispers, bringing his attention back to the road but keeping his thoughts trained on the woman he loves.
--
302 notes
·
View notes
I cannot stop thinking about infatuated Remus x reader in the library 🙏 I’m dying for a part two of their date - maybe where Remus shows reader the constellations and there’s lots of sweet fluff and vulnerability and flustered Remus <3
i can't stop thinking about them either! maybe i could make a lil mini-series out of them???? maybe. thanks for requesting, lovely! hope you enjoy!
1.6k remus x fem!reader fluff language probably completely wrong astrology information
masterlist
"Are you cold?"
You're sitting across from Remus on a blanket he stole from Lily. He's not sorry about stealing it, but he is sorry that he didn't think to steal another to wrap around you. It's the middle of December and even though you're bundled up in one of the university's merch jumpers and a puffy jacket, Remus is worried this date is his worst idea - like, ever - and that you're going to freeze to death. But despite the cold, thin air, you're smiling happily over at Remus, gloved hands wrapped around a cheap hot chocolate from the canteen and your cheeks rounded out in a smile.
You look so gorgeous, Remus thinks. Your nose has gone slightly red from the cold, and your cheeks have followed suit, but your eyes are glistening with the glow of the festive fairy lights hanging from the lampposts in the distance that line the walk ways of the university grounds. He'd really like to kiss you, he thinks. He has done. Twice, since that day in the library. It'd made his knees buckle both times. Once, leaving the pub a little tipsy and dazed, high off of the flirtatious talking and touching all night, pressed up against the wall with the smell of smoke in the air, and once more when he'd dropped you off at your flat door. That one had been sweet, much softer than the one outside of the pub. A simple goodnight followed by bashful smiles and a heartfelt promise to see each other again soon.
He doesn't kiss you, but he does rub a doting hand up and down your leg, attempting to bring some warmth to it under your thin leggings, even when you protest and promise him devotedly that you're okay. How could you not be? You're there with him, after all. Remus concedes under your assurances, moving so he's directly next to you. Thigh to thigh, shoulder to shoulder. He can smell the sweetness of your perfume, the strawberry of your shampoo, and he's so beyond grateful you've given him an opportunity to be so close to you, again.
"So, are you gonna tell me why we're out here?" You ask Remus, head turned and tilted to look up at him.
You're giving him that smile. The one that makes his chest hurt and his blood thrum in his veins. The one that he likes to believe means you're happy to be spending time with him, that you're enjoying yourself, that you'd be happy to be out here counting the blades of iced over grass just because he's there. You'd never admit it if he asked, but you know in yourself it's true. You'd sit here all night freezing your arse off with shitty canteen hot chocolate just to spend time with Remus Lupin. It's sick, honestly. Marlene would laugh at you something awful.
Remus hums, eyes flitting to your lips distractedly before he remembers himself, "The stars."
It's a poor explanation, Remus knows, but he hopes you remember your tipsy giggles, the way you'd gushed about how pretty the stars were this deep into the countryside, and how you'd love to know everything you possibly could about every last one. Well. Remus isn't good at a lot. He's constantly forgetting to remove his reds from his washing and dying all of his clothes pink, he can't cook to save his life, he can't sing, or wax poetic, but he can sure as hell lie on the freezing cold ground in the middle of December and tell you about the constellations. For goodness sakes, it's part of his degree.
The excited smile that comes over your face does absolutely nothing good for Remus' heart rate nor his sanity. He thinks you're going to drive him mad. James says it's not possible. He did, eventually, ask if your beauty could be a leading factor in Remus' inevitable death via heart attack and James confidently told him that it's simply not possible. Remus disagrees. What does he know, anyway? He's not even fully qualified, yet. Idiot.
"Ooooh," You shimmy impossibly closer to Remus excitedly, eyes alight with joy, and pull him to lay down with you.
He complies, your bodies pressed together and emulating a warmth that shouldn't be possible for the minus two degree weather. It startles Remus how right this all feels. You're here, with him. Pressed comfortably to his side, your left hand threaded through his right, puffs of cold air coming from your mouths and fading away into the night air. He'd not sure what he ever did to deserve such an opportunity, but he'll be damned if he's not going to make the most of it. Of his time with you.
"Okay, so, this one." You point to a cluster of stars directly above you both with the hand that's not interlocked with his.
Remus does his best to follow, mapping with his eyes the collection of stars you've pointed to. "That's Orion. Most visible in the UK during the winter, supposed to be January til' April, but it's a really clear night, I s'pose."
You hum to show you're listening, lips parted ever so slightly, and Remus extends his own hand, "If you follow southeast from here," he wiggles his finger and you press the index finger of yours to his, following his line with a giggle, "it leads to Sirius."
"Brightest star in the sky." You whisper, voice in awe of the bright, twinkling star just right of you both.
Remus scoffs. Hell if he'd ever forget it, he's heard his best friend proclaim it enough times. You seem to come to this realisation, too, laughing and pushing the side of your face into Remus' shoulder. He rests his head atop yours, allowing you to take the warmth and hiding place from him, continues on in his mini-astronomy lesson with a finger pointed at a new collection of stars.
"Ursa Major is over here," His voice is a quiet murmur, careful and sticky sweet, "It's like, one of the most famous in the Northern Hemisphere. It's known as 'The Great Bear'."
He looks down to find you staring at the cluster of stars with a smile he can't read. He thinks it's you realising how big the universe is, how small you and Remus are, in comparison. Remus would disagree. He thinks wherever this thing with you goes, his feelings are going to carry on throughout the entirety of the universe. He's sure of that much. And listen, he's studied an astounding amount about the universe, it's gravitational pulls, the sheer size of it, the possibility that there are more out there. He's spent hours upon hours writing thesis papers, studying the actual cold hard facts, the universe is massive. That's a simple statement in and of itself.
But Remus knows. He knows for damn well sure that he's going to fall head over heels in love with you, and he's going to make sure that love fills every single bit of the universe there is to cover. He's not an idiot, though. He's not going to tell you that on the first - official, anyway - date. He thinks maybe you're having a similar thought process, though. At least, he'd like to think.
"Do you ever think about how tiny we actually are?" Your voice is soft, awe stricken, almost, and he doesn't have to look down at you to know your kind eyes are still roaming the night sky.
He makes an amused sort of hum, lips tilting into a cocky smirk and you meet his gaze, a questioning look lingering there. "Well, no. 'Cause I'm a whopping six foot and you're five foot nothing, love."
Your eyes light up when you scoff, using your free hand to whack at his chest and Remus laughs. It's loud and it's obnoxious but you're laughing too. His eyes find yours again, soft and careful, hoping you can read just how genuine he's being when he tells you, "All the time. In the grand scheme of things, we are specks of nothingness. At least, I used to think that."
Your brows furrow, Remus reaches up to pad his thumb over the crease lines before you can even talk, "Why don't you anymore?"
Remus shrugs. Is it too sappy to admit you've singlehandedly changed his opinion on such a subject in the three weeks he's properly known you? Is that coming on too strong?
You're looking up at him, soft lips parted, waiting on an answer and Remus decides fuck it, he's not going to ever refrain from telling you how much power you have over him. "You."
"Me?"
Remus nods, the ghost of an overly fond smile on his lips as he reaches up to push a fallen strand of hair away from your face, "Yeah. How could a girl like you be anything like an insignificant speck of nothingness?"
You both preen at and shy away from his praise, his flirtatious comment, and Remus feels his heart thrashing against his ribs at the way you whine his name. He chuckles softly as crimson takes over your neck and cheeks, an obvious change from the wind bitten skin from before. He smiles cheekily, chasing the line of your sight, head dipping to meet it.
"I'm serious, you know." He tells you.
You look transfixed for a moment. Ethereal. Entirely too beautiful and enamoured with his words. He's about to kiss you when your own cheeky grin comes over your face, eyes bright as you turn to point at the sky, "No, silly," You chide jokingly, "That's Sirius."
And oh, for fucks sake, Remus is well and truly done for.
280 notes
·
View notes
Guardian Angel
Chapter 6: Compound Living
Summary: Your recovery continues in the Avengers Compound. You open up to Wanda about your past and have a heart-to-heart that may lead to something more for the both of you.
Warnings: None
Word Count: 2.5k
A/N: Sorry for the delay! The next chapter of Guardian Angel will most likely be posted after the holidays. I hope you enjoy!
Guardian Angel Masterlist
If you had to stare at another cup of jello, you might just scream. After being stuck in the Med Bay for two weeks, you were craving something sweet from the shop. You were surprised that the food wasn't better given that Stark could have brought up filet mignon if he wanted to. You were extremely grateful that you were finally leaving the Med Bay today, even though you weren't going far.
Wanda would be here shortly to help you move into her old room in the compound. The redhead had been coming to visit you almost every day when she wasn’t out on a mission or at home with the boys. It was the highlight of your day when she walked through your door and brought some much-needed color and personality to your plain old Med Bay room.
Every moment spent with Wanda you learned something new. Her childhood and the happy memories she had of Pietro, despite the struggles they faced growing up in war-torn Sokovia. She waxed poetically about her parents. How her father would bring home American sitcoms that she fell in love with while simultaneously learning English. The Chicken Paprakish her mother lovingly prepared.
Despite all the information you had learned about her and everything she knew about you, you still felt like you were holding back. You couldn’t miss the look she gave you when Dr. Cho said she couldn’t reach your parents, but you were too scared to mention the kiss you had shared when you first woke up after the accident. You feared that Wanda would dismiss it as a mistake caused by your shared vulnerability. However, you knew you couldn't avoid it forever.
Dr. Cho and Banner entered your room, interrupting your thoughts. "You're all set," said Dr. Cho, handing you your discharge papers and aftercare instructions. "Remember, your first follow-up appointment is on Friday."
“Thank you both so much. I'm really grateful,” you said, choking up.
“Okay, who’s ready to bust out of this joint?” Wanda announced pushing in a wheelchair.
Oh great, my driver is here," you joked, wiping your eyes before Wanda could see. "Will you ever stop treating me like a baby? I've made significant progress in my recovery thanks to the cradle.”
“Not a chance,” helping you shift from the bed into the wheelchair.
*^~^*
“Steve, Bucky, and Sam are at your apartment getting your stuff and Natasha should be back from the Candy Bar any minute with an update from Harper on the shop,” rolling you down the hall and into the elevator. “Because you can’t just rest and let yourself heal, you have to be a workaholic,” Wanda mumbled.
"I have never missed a day of work, not even when I had a fever of 102," you proudly declared.
Wanda sighed and said, "I'm sorry Y/N, but I don't think that's the kind of flex you think it is.
"Good afternoon, Ms. Maximoff," said FRIDAY.
“Oh, my God!” You exclaimed. “Who is that person?” If you could stand up from the wheelchair, you would have.
"Relax, it's only FRIDAY," Wanda said as she laid a hand on your shoulder.
“What?”
“Tony's AI interface is integrated into every function in the compound and can provide assistance with any needs.”
“I notice that you have a guest, Ms. Maximoff.”
“Yes, FRIDAY. This is Y/F/N Y/L/N. She’s going to be staying with us for a bit in my old room.”
Welcome Ms. Y/L/N. Please let me know if you need assistance.
“Hi FRIDAY, it’s nice to meet you too.”
“She’ll be your new best friend,” Wanda joked.
“Stark really can do anything,” you said.
The elevator stopped as FRIDAY announced your arrival in the living quarters. Doors opened to a stunning common area, leaving you speechless. Needless to say, it was much nicer than your apartment.
"Welcome to the common room and the kitchen," Wanda said, as she led you through the room. "We usually keep some late-night snacks in the fridge, and if you ever need something sweet, I can show you where Clint keeps his stash of chocolate," she giggled.
"This is amazing," you say, your eyes wandering around the room.
“What did you expect?”
“I don’t know. I mean, you hear rumors about the Avengers Compound, but you don’t know if it’s true. Oh my god! Look at that plasma screen TV! A Ps5!” Squealing like a little kid.
“Yes, when they're not working, you'll find the boys and some of the younger ones gathered around that ridiculous thing.
“I want to play!”
“Y/N, you only have one good arm.”
“So, I could still play! Call out moves,” you pleaded as Wanda rolled her eyes.
“Tony’s lab is down that corridor to the left. He’s usually in there tinkering away at all hours of the night until Pepper comes and gets him.” Wanda continues to roll you down a separate hallway, “Team bedrooms are down this way.”
You passed a few doors before coming to a stop. “This is my room,” gently opening the door and pushing you inside.
“Wow, Wanda, this is awesome.”
If you walked in a forest at first light, if you let the awakening green hues into your soul, that would be the sense that was her bedroom. There was a calmness, a serenity, a feeling of optimism. The same feelings you felt whenever she was in your presence.
“Thank you. It’s not as fancy as some of my teammates' rooms, but I loved it,” helping you out of the wheelchair and onto the bed. “I did my best to make it my safe space. So no matter what was going on outside, no matter what happened out in the field, I could come home and find my peace of mind again.”
“That’s beautiful, Wanda.”
As you looked up, Natasha called out "Knock knock" from the doorway.
“Reporting back from the Candy Bar, boss,” Nat said walking towards you.
“Oh God, I’m almost afraid to ask.”
“Relax, everything is fine,” Nat said as she sat down on the edge of the bed. “That Harper girl has the shop running like a well-oiled machine.”
Thank goodness, you exclaimed. "Do we need anything? I could place an order from here," you said, reaching for your phone.
"Y/N, you shouldn't be working. Your number one priority should be your recovery," Wanda interrupted.
You simply grumbled at her response before turning back to the Black Widow.
“I called Harper and let her know you were coming. Is there any chance she didn’t fangirl over you when you arrived?”
“If you consider knocking over a jar of jelly beans and dropping some kid’s ice cream on the floor keeping her composure, then sure. She was very composed,” Natasha said.
You ran a hand down your face, imagining your best friend's clumsiness. You said, "Thank you, Natasha. I owe you one. I have been going crazy not being there. It was a relief to have someone in there to keep an eye on the place.
“No problem, Y/N,” patting your leg. “Oh, and one more thing,” bringing her other hand out from behind your back. “I brought you back a little something.” Holding up a bag from your shop. “Harper told me what you liked. The first rule of compound living - guard your snacks or they will be eaten by one of the boys,” handing you the bag.
“You’re the best! I’ve been craving some sweets from the shop,” taking the bag.
“I know,” Natasha smirked. “Second rule of compound living - I know everything.”
“It’s true,” Wanda confirmed.
“Delivery!” Sam called out as he walked into the room carrying a couple of boxes with Steve and Bucky trailing behind with boxes of their own.
“Wow, did you pack up the entire apartment?” Nat teased.
“We wanted to be prepared for every eventuality,” Bucky said. “We weren’t sure what Y/N would need.”
“Wow, thank you so much, you guys,” you said.
Steve said, "We'll be happy to help you unpack after our meeting with Hill," placing down the boxes.
I'll come with you guys," Nat said. "See you in a bit, Y/N.
“Bye,” you waved.
Wanda fluffed the pillow behind your back before sitting down on the bed next to you.
“Comfortable?”
“Yes, very much so.”
“Is there anything I can get you?”
“No, I’m alright for now,” a small yawn escaping your lips.
“I should let you get some rest,” rising from the bed.
“Wanda, wait,” placing a hand on her arm.
She turned back toward you, her face curious.
There's something I need to share with you. It's the reason why I'm here, recovering away from my family," you say, your gaze fixated on the soft comforter. "You see, my parents and I are not on good terms. We're estranged.”
Wanda’s face softened at the admission.
“My parents founded Onyx Petroleum in California in 1978. They're not exactly Tony Stark rich, but pretty close. Growing up, I always felt resentful towards them - they were never the kindest people in the world, and their wealth and status just made it worse. But once I started researching climate change and the impact of fossil fuels on our planet, everything changed. It was disgusting to see the sheer amount of pollution that Onyx Petroleum, one of the world's top five most polluting companies, was responsible for. And yet, despite all of this, they still don't seem to care even an iota. It's just not right.”
Wanda's calming hand on your thigh pulls you back into the present moment as you take a deep breath.
“Throughout my entire childhood, my parents never failed to remind me that one day I would inherit and run the family business. When I turned 18, they presented me with a legal document that would bind me to take over the company as the Chief Executive Officer after completing my college education. The mere thought of it was enough to make me feel physically ill,” you look down at your lap as you recount the painful memory. "I remember the day I told them that I would rather live on the street than work for their business," you said softly. "I had always dreamt of doing something that aligned with my values and passions, and I knew that working for them would compromise that. But they didn't take it well. The very next day, they cut me off and kicked me out of their lives. It was as if I had never existed to them." Your voice cracks a little as you finish your sentence, and you take a deep breath to steady yourself.
"Oh Y/N," she said, gently placing a hand under your chin and tilting your head up. Your eyes glistened with tears that threatened to spill over.
“I moved in with Harper,” wiping at your eyes. “I funded my college education using the savings I had accumulated over the years and pursued a degree in entrepreneurship. Upon graduation, I took a leap of faith and established the Candy Bar with Harper. It has been the saving grace of my life," you breathed out, feeling a sense of release from the burden that had been weighing you down.
Wanda didn't respond immediately. As you looked up, you saw tears shining in her eyes. "I am grateful that you trusted me enough to share all of this with me. I am so sorry that this was your reality."
“It was a long time ago. I’ve built a life and a business that I love, and I don’t think about it for the most part. But, when I heard Helen say that she couldn’t get a hold of my parents after the accident… I don’t know,” you trailed off.
“I understand that the accident must have brought up some painful memories for you. Trust me, I know firsthand how much courage it takes to face such buried trauma," she said, placing her hands gently on top of yours. "You're an incredible woman, and it's a shame that your parents aren't here to witness the amazing person you've become.
You nodded silently before meeting the gaze of the redhead. Those beautiful green eyes caught your attention once again.
“If you ever want to talk about this I’m always here, or I can talk to Bucky about introducing you to Dr. Raynor. She’s a terrific therapist.”
After thanking Wanda, you thought the conversation was over, but you could see her contemplating something. "What's wrong?" you asked her.
Oh, nothing. Nothing’s wrong. I just… I’ve felt so guilty about what happened between us after you woke up in the Med Bay,” struggling to get the words out. “I felt like I took advantage of you and how vulnerable we both were in that moment.”
"Oh, thank God you finally said something!" you exclaimed, relief washing over your voice.
“What do you mean?” A look of confusion on her face.
"I felt the same way, but I was too scared to say anything. I've been wanting to bring it up for two weeks, but I was afraid you would dismiss it as a mistake in the heat of the moment," you rambled. "Then I thought maybe the reason you weren't bringing it up is because you did think it was a mistake, and I didn't know--" Wanda cut you off by placing a finger over your lips.
“Shhh…”
You didn’t realize that you were out of breath.
"I like you, Y/N. It's the first time I've felt this way about anyone since Vision, and it scares me. From the moment I saw you in that cafe, I haven't been able to get you out of my mind, and then when I saw you in that car..." She started to choke up.
I know," you reassured her. "I haven't stopped thinking about you either. When I woke in the Med Bay and you were there," reaching up and stroking Wanda's cheek, "I knew I was going to be okay.
Wanda leaned into your palm as her eyes met yours.
“It wasn’t a mistake, Wanda.”
“No, it wasn’t.”
As she leaned forward, you could feel your heart racing with anticipation. Suddenly, her lips met yours again for the second time. It was a soft and tender kiss at first, but then you felt Wanda's hands gently cup your face, pulling you closer to her. You could sense a deepening urgency in her touch as her lips moved against yours with a newfound passion. In that moment, you forgot about everything else - your worries, fears, past, and future. All that mattered was the intimate moment you were sharing with Wanda. When you finally broke the kiss, your eyes met and you both knew that you had found something special in each other.
*^~^*
After their meeting, Steve, Bucky, and Sam kept their promise and returned to help you unpack. When Steve knocked on your door, there was no answer. Upon slowly opening the door, he discovered that you were sound asleep on the bed. Your good arm was wrapped around Wanda, who was peacefully dozing while snuggling up against your chest.
“Should we wake them?” Sam asked.
"No, let them sleep. We can start unpacking the boxes," suggested Steve.
You woke up a couple of hours later with the afternoon sun shining on your face. Wanda stirs slightly next to you.
"Hi," you muttered wearily.
"Hey," Wanda said while stretching and looking up at you.
“I guess we fell asleep.”
“It’s lunchtime. You should eat something. Let me grab you some food,” she said, looking at her watch.
“I'll come with you. I'm tired of being cooped up in rooms.”
As the two of you sat up in bed, your eyes widened in surprise as you took in the state of the room around you. You couldn't help but notice that all your belongings had been carefully unpacked and placed in their proper places, giving the space a neat and organized feel. The room was adorned with delicate fairy lights that cast a warm, inviting glow around the space, while a beautiful bouquet of flowers sat proudly on the coffee table, adding a touch of elegance and charm to the overall decor. It was evident that someone had taken great care and effort in decorating the room, and you couldn't help but feel grateful and touched by the thoughtful gesture.
“Um, can FRIDAY unpack boxes?” you asked
Wanda smirked and said, "I don't think she can." Then she added, "In case it isn't clear, I think the team likes you too, Y/N."
“Wow,” you were completely amazed.
82 notes
·
View notes
hey :3 can you do a fic about mc who kept her feelings for solomon secretly for more than one year? and mc was fighting with a lower demon who was saying that she likes one of the brother and then she says that it was solomon not the brother/s but she didn't confess because she was afraid that solomon would reject her because he don't want to lose another lover and like those worries? muahh
solomon overhearing your confession
includes: solomon x gn!reader (no pronouns mentioned)
wc: .7k | rated t | m.list
a/n: lmao he's so dumb i love him sm. thanks for requesting and i hope you enjoy!! my inbox is open to chat, request, or leave feedback so come say hi <33
warnings: (mildly humerous) depictions of (poorly executed) bullying
please reblog >:0
“admit it,” a lower-level demon says, pressing her finger into your chest, “you like lucifer!”
“i do not,” you protest hotly.
“fine then,” another says, rolling his eyes, “mammon, then!”
“i don’t like any of the demon brothers,” you argue.
“that’s such a lie!” the leader dismisses. “anyone would like at least one!”
“i thought you didn’t want me to like them,” you say, confused. “otherwise, why would you be threatening me?”
“we obviously need you to admit which one you like so we can warn you off of him,” a third demon says.
“this is so dumb. i already told all of you, i don’t like any of them! there’s actually someone else i hold close.”
“now you’re just making excuses. if that’s really true, then who do you like?”
you hesitate. it’s not as if you’re lying–you really do like solomon–you’ve just never admitted it to anyone and can’t believe the first time you do will be under duress.
“see, you’re not saying anything,” the second one speaks up again, “that means you’ve got to be lying!”
“what is with you weirdos! i like solomon, okay!”
“solomon? you mean like that shady sorcerer?”
“figures,” the third demon says nastily, “two humans, meant for one another.”
“why do you like him?” the leader asks. “how can i believe you without evidence?”
you groan. this is so freaking cliche. “he might be shady, but he’s really smart, okay? and he’s got a good sense of humor and strong morals. they may not be good morals but he knows what he believes in and stands up for it. he also is like, super attractive.” you go on but for the sake of brevity, it will get left up to imagination.
“wow, you must really like him,” the leader demon finally says, face crinkled. “why haven’t you confessed?”
“well, he’s never given an indication that he likes me back,” you say, wondering how you’re life has gotten to this point, “and i don’t do well with rejection in general.”
“i believe in you,” the second crony says passionately. “i’m sure he likes you back! you just have to take the first step!”
“i thought you guys were threatening me,” you say, confused.
“well, we were,” the leader says like you’re stupid, stepping back. “but we don’t actually dislike you. just threats to our chances with the brothers.”
wisely, you hold back the fact that you don’t think they have very much of a chance at all. “so you’re encouraging me now?”
“obviously. it’s kind of pitiful how down bad you are, you know,” the third says. “you seriously need to just jump in with both feet and be brave.”
after a few more inspiring words, they leave you, even more confused and honestly just ready to go back to the house of lamentation. but before you can, a voice speaks up, and seriously, this is way too cliche.
“now, that was interesting,” solomon says, and you turn to him with a scowl.
“how long have you been standing there? and you didn’t help me?”
“well, i got there and was going to help, but then you started waxing poetic about my cheekbones and i figured you had it in control.”
“kill me now.”
“ah, ah, ah, none of that,” he says, clicking his tongue. “at least not before you tell me if you meant everything you said. because if you did,” he continues before you can protest, “that would very good news for me indeed.”
you don’t dare to believe what he’s implying. “maybe,” you say instead. “what would you do if i had?”
his face splits into a handsome smile. “well, take you out on a date, of course,” he says like it’s obvious. “one where you can tell me more about how you like my charming wit and dashing aura.”
“oh god,” you say with feeling. “what have i gotten myself into?”
“the start of something beautiful,” solomon replies grandiosely, taking your hand, and for once, you actually think he might be being serious.
leviathans-watching's work - please do not copy, repost, or claim as your own
451 notes
·
View notes
Bestie pinnie!! I am so very tipsy, is there any chance you could do some hc's of the icons with a drunk/tipsy s/o? One that's affectionate and shit?
Hope the dungeon is going well!!
[This was a while ago, hope you're okay lmao. The dungeon is alive and full.]
TW: Dubious consent.
Vesper finds this so cute. Oh, you're so adorable. A couple drinks and you want to climb him like a tree, you're just the cutest. Vesper meets your affection twofold, cooing and goading you into waxing poetic about how you feel regarding him. He's also definitely taking this as an invitation to find out what type of drunk you are doing sex. Do you get sloppy and lazy or are you the type that comes alight with passion? The giggly ones are always fun.
Zizz also thinks fondly of these moments. He's one of the icons that drinks the least, so you can get pretty drunk around him, Zizz will be there to protect you (though never from himself). He welcomes your affection, enjoying petting you while you ramble half-coherently and love on him. He's the type to lay there with a wagging tail and point to several parts of himself, asking you to kiss them if you really love him. Eventually, he'll recommend you sleep it off on him, what he does to you while you're in a drunken slumber stays forever a mystery...
Kalymir finds this so fucking funny. Look at you, you little bumbling fool! What a lightweight! He's on his tenth bottle, you're such a pussy (you are worryingly drunk, that was not a drink for humans). He definitely makes fun of you, leaning out of your reach when you try to kiss him and goading you into getting irritated enough to drunkenly snap at him. If you're half-crazy enough to bite him out of frustration, that's what he wants. For every smooch and coo you land on Kalymir, he slaps your ass and pokes around at you, but your pathetic state is getting to him. Wanna sweat that alcohol off, runt? Start running, he'll give you a head start since you're already giggling about it. He's laughing too.
Vorticia drinks plenty. There's nothing like a fine wine, even if she also indulges in harder stuff often enough. Point is, you're not drinking alone with her more often than not. By the time you're tipsy, she's hammered. And you'll note the way her serpent tongue gets the best of her because she starts slurring those "s"s pretty heavily. It's actually very easy to fluster the Queen in this state, so you'll get her to blush and laugh loudly, laying down somewhere just to enjoy some pleasant moments with her charming Queenie. She's definitely going to try to at least finger you a little, joking around when you react in shock, as if she's not really doing anything weird. You're likely to get very sloppy, drooling oral. She'll empty a bottle on you and go to town.
Cero is chastising you for having absolutely no self-control, even if there's a drunken tint to his cheeks as well. You're a complete mess, this is shameful, get a hold of yourself- Why yes, he is handsome. He's very kind to you, that is also true. My my, you're being very honest today, aren't you? What started as chiding and bitching very quickly turns into a reluctant tolerance, and then very eager conversation- As Cero blushes heavily and his usually frowning visage melts into a genuinely soft look full of adoration for you. He'll let you cling to him, kiss around and even stain his outfit, if only just to hear you say you love him more than anything, that you think he's so hoootttt and prettyyy and smart and wowwww. You should get drunk more often, he concludes.
Rinx has such an endless selection of liquor, it's a small miracle you're only tipsy and not blacked out on the floor. He's very talkative when he drinks, so your affectionate quips are returned with his own affectionate thoughts for you and invitations to try different brands- This one's so old, it might kill you, better not. He can't help picking you up and walking around with you under his armpit like a purse dog as he rambles on and on and flusters while you kiss at him drunkenly. There's definitely going to be some very messy humping at one point, he has yet to shut the fuck up, even when you kiss him.
Livius gets as drunk as you do, which takes more drinks than it does for you. Since he mirrors a lot of your mannerisms in all sorts of situations, he's also going to mimic your drunken stupor, to the best of his abilities. "I loves you"s are met with "I love you more"s and it escalates into stupid, cheesy comparisons. His voice gets high and whiny and Livius needs to have his arms coiled around you, he might even be more affectionate than you. He's very prone to tickling you a lot in this state, just to hear you laugh and try to torture him back. It's adorable and painfully lovey-dovey from start to finish.
205 notes
·
View notes
For the writing asks: 41 + any ship with Zoro. Or any other ship you like : )
41. Fake Relationship/Kissing Undercover/”Couples” Banter
zosan + fake relationship
The cook looks at him like it’s his fault. Zoro’s halfway ready to scowl back at him when the waitress comes by with their orders. The cook waxes poetic about the plating and the smells and Zoro wants to call the whole thing quits, but the waitress smiles and looks between the two of them with a hand over her heart.
“You lovely couple enjoy your meals,” she says, then skitters away.
Zoro watches as the cook’s expression morphs into terror and he bursts out laughing. The cook slaps a hand over his mouth, but Zoro doesn’t even care. He reaches for the cook’s fingers, slowly prying them off with a grin that he knows just grates at the cook’s nerves.
“That’s not a nice thing to do to your husband, is it?”
The word alone breaks the cook. Zoro prepares for it to all fall apart. He wants to watch as the restaurant staff realizes they’re not really a couple—married for a few months, but together for years, like the cook said—and that they’ve lied just so the cook could try his fancies with the waitress.
But the cook is quick to catch on, letting go of Zoro completely and turning to simmer in his rage quietly. Their little scene was still enough to get the attention of the waitress, who stands awkwardly near their table, probably unsure of whether or not to encroach on what she might assume is a lovers’ spat.
“Is everything okay?” she asks, stepping closer and closer with each word.
Zoro looks over to the cook, but he’s stunned into silence—the cook’s never been good at lying. He reaches over, slow as not to scare the cook into a frenzy, and glides his thumb across the underside of the cook’s jaw, moving inward and stopping at the corner of his mouth.
“I just had something on my face,” he murmurs, but he’s looking at the cook, daring him to say otherwise, to break this whole charade and have it blow up in his face.
The cook just stares at him, eyes wide, lips gently pulled apart. His eyes search, like they are looking for something, but all he’ll find is Zoro.
Zoro looks to the waitress and offers a nod. “We’ll let you know if we need anything else.” He pauses, waiting for the cook to yell at him for dismissing the waitress so flippantly, but the cook is still staring at him. It’s almost unnerving, if it wasn’t so annoying.
He rolls his eyes and moves his hand back to the table. He might as well enjoy the meal—it’s on the house for sweethearts, or so the waitress said—before someone in this damned restaurant figures them both out. He starts eating, but he notices the way there are more eyes on him than he wants. He looks up and finds the waitress still at the end of their table, her eyes big.
“You two are really cute,” she says, voice hushed like she’s telling a secret. “I wish you both the best!”
The cook finally pulls his gaze away from the side of Zoro’s head, but he doesn’t meet the waitress’ eyes. “Yeah,” he murmurs, but he’s quiet, distant. There’s a redness on his skin, traveling up from his neck and flushing his cheeks, but Zoro doesn’t say anything—doesn’t really know what to say. “Thank you.”
87 notes
·
View notes
For Riddlers
He's giving a present to S/O and they're like "But I didn't do anything to deserve it." They have a mindset that any type of present or affection for them comes from being useful.
You're doing great with requests!
"Deserving" Riddler party x Reader
Ahhh thank you! I hope I'm still doing okay with requests given everything, hahah. I've definitely noticed a drop in note numbers but I guess it's to be expected now I'm not posting as much. As long as someone is enjoying it, right?
TW: implications of emotional abuse
Gotham
Oh no. He understands that a little too well. We don't know much about Gotham Edward's history, but personally I like to think there's a reason we don't know much about his past. He doesn't speak of it. There are no fond hallmark movie moments he can reminisce on in conversation.
He'll want to just talk about it. Perhaps even talk about his own childhood while he's at it. Why he's worked so hard for recognition and then felt so angry and disappointed that everyone merely saw him as a freak. Doesn't he DESERVE good things? He uses it as framework to show how either side of the argument is illogical and toxic.
You don't need to earn good things. Not from him, not from anybody.
60s
Why would you need to do anything to deserve a gift? How is he supposed to shower you with gifts and jewelry and affection if you need to earn it first? Because he's going to keep doing those things whether you think you "deserve" them or not. Really, it'll become a point of pride for him to slowly break that down over time.
You ask what you've done to deserve it, he tells you he looked at your eyes and thought of how beautiful the color was. Your laugh left him tickled. You woke up that morning, you are alive and you are his person. That's the only reason he needs.
BTAS
This is merely an excuse to up the ante. If you don't deserve such things, then why does he keep doing it? Why is he so delightfully infatuated with showing you his adoration when you're not being useful? Perhaps it's because you don't need to do anything at all for him to want to do good things for you. To give you things he wants you to have.
He'll ask you quite plainly if you only give him things or love him when you think he's deserved it. You don't, correct? Then think about it logically. Why should you have to be useful? He wishes you could see the person he sees.
Zero Year
Does not compute. Once you explain it to him, he understands it logically, but not emotionally. For some people, childhood events that can make one person feel they don't deserve things unless they are useful can turn hard the other way. Edward deserves the world. He's intelligent, he's handsome, and certainly he's charming.
So why would you, in the excellence he's deemed for you, feel undeserving? Does he need to wax poetical about you? Tell you of the celestial pedestal he's brought you up upon to look down on the other mortals? You deserve things because you are deserving of everything. Let him show you all the things he can lay at your feet...
Arkham
Don't be absurd, just take the damn thing. If he's giving it you, you deserve it. There was likely a brief point in his life where he felt something similar- Mostly in him trying to impress someone who refused to be impressed (his father). Going so far as to cheat to get his father to acknowledge his brilliance, which only failed. It fizzled away and turned to needing and deserving it all simply for being himself.
He thinks of it as a weakness of yours. Not... trying to be mean or intentionally callous about it, yet it can certainly come off that way. He'll get annoyed if you try to wave off gifts from him or affection because you don't "deserve" it. No, now he's even more determined that you need to have this. And you'll thank him. And he doesn't want to hear you ask that question again.
Telltale
You don't want it? He'll gauge your reaction. If you truly don't want it, you don't have to accept it. He sees that flicker in you, that hesitation that says of course you do but...
"Then I suppose you'll have to accept it or I'll be insulted." And places it directly into your hands.
He is going to trick your self-conscious brain into taking this gift and feeling you deserve it. He won't harp too much on him being upset or mad or anything to make you feel BAD- but he'll use little talk arounds to convincing you to take it. Look, it's yours, so obviously you didn't need to do anything to receive. So thank him with a kiss and think nothing of it.
2022/Nashton
Similar to Gotham, he understands far too well what this feeling is like. Just slightly different reasons. It's practically the entire reason so much of his lifeline was hanging on the renewal project and wanting to be involved in it. If he could be useful and pull himself from the muck....! They'd love him. They'd all have reason to love him.
Seeing that same unhealthy trait in you- Well it's different. It's different when it's you! He'll tell you this while also being the exact same way. If he is in some kind of therapy/is on the mend, he might recognize this pattern. Not only that, he'll take the steps that BOTH of you need to improve that line of thinking.
Little gentle reminders if you say something, "ah, ah! We don't need to be useful to be given nice things and love." When you do the same back, it'll make him soft and gooey. You'll both get better about it, you have each other.
57 notes
·
View notes
hii can i get nikolai lantsov with prompt 2 or 5 please? thank you sm <3
Prompt #5: Jealousy, Jealousy ♡
“After receiving a few anonymous Valentine’s, it doesn’t seem like your partner’s too happy about it…”
Character: Nikolai Lantsov **Check out the Valentine’s Event Here.
A.n: Thank you for requesting! Someone else requested prompt #2, you can read that here. I hope you enjoy!
It was a quiet day at the palace. You were lounging in your study, reading over some official documents and daydreaming about what surprise Nikolai had planned for Valentine’s day, when suddenly - “Y/n!” Nikolai burst into the room, brandishing a thick stack of crumpled letters. “Look at this! It’s outrageous!” You sat up straight, slightly startled. Nikolai sat down beside you, holding out the letters, gesturing for you to open them. “’To her majesty, Queen y/n,’” you read aloud. “’The sun pales in comparison to your ethereal beauty. May your feast of Sankt Valentine be blessed with joy and love.’ Oh, that’s lovely… I wonder who sent it?” Nikolai looked at you incredulously. “Okay, open the next one, then.” You hummed as you struggled with the thick wax seal. Nikolai passed you the letter opener that sat on your desk without a word. “Thank you, my love- why are you acting so strange?” “I am acting perfectly normal. Please read your letters.”
You huffed, and unfolded the card. “’Dear y/n l/n. Sankt Valentine has truly blessed us with such a wonderful person as yourself. I would be honoured to be your valentine. -F’ Are all of these Valentine’s cards, Nikolai-?” “Yes! All of these people are sending you mass amounts of cards - flowers and chocolates too!” You smiled, touched by the generosity of your people “Really? How kind of them.” Nikolai stood up in frustration, wringing his hands in exasparation. “No, not kind! You’re my wife! Not theirs! Why are all these people sending an openly married woman Valentines?” He sat down again, his head in his hands, and sighed dramatically. You placed a gentle hand on his back. “My love, tell me you’re not jealous of these people? I expect that they’re simply sending these out of obligation - after all, it is my first Valentine’s as Queen.” Nikolai shook his head, stilling hiding his head in his hands. “No, some of them are really very poetic. And from Noblemen too!” “ Nikolai Lantsov, did you read my Mail?” He looked up at you now, desperately shaking his head. “I was worried! You were getting so many letters, and many from noble families…. and then you were out all morning, and I couldn’t find you to ask, so I had to take matters into my own hands.”
You kissed his cheek. “You don’t need to worry, my love. You are the only one that I have eyes for. And plus, now we have our decor for the festival next week, and we get to enjoy all those chocolates, too.” He smiled and leaned into your embrace, before picking up the official document that you were reading before he had come in and making a face. “Oh, this reminds me, I ought to go send off those documents to Kerch.” He gave you a quick peck on the lips. “I’ll see you in about an hour, okay? And make sure you’re ready for later this evening, I have something great planned. Talk to you soon, my love.”
43 notes
·
View notes
I just have to wax poetic about the beauty of gentlebeard, particularly why I, as an autistic person, love them so much and project onto them so badly
This might get a little long, so a read more will do
But first off, some fun brief history lesson on autistic relationships in media :). Which sucks most of the time :)))
Ok I'm really not gonna get too much into it cause most of its the same; white autistic man/white allistic woman (The Good Doctor, Adam, etc). There have been steps in more diversity when it comes to this (Jane Wants a Boyfriend and Extraordinary Attorney Woo, a flip on this trope, and Heartbreak High has an actually autistic actress as a main lesbian character) but some of these media aren't being continued anymore (Everything's Gonna Be Okay you will always be missed)
As of right now, the themes of these stories are usually about the disability, teaching allistics and just overall centers around autism itself, which considering how many of these projects aren't led by autistic people, it's shitty repetitive portrayals (The Good Doctor, Atypical, Extraordinary Attorney Woo, As They See Us, blah blah blah blah blah)
But then you got these two pirates.
And let me explain how they pressed all the right buttons for me:
1. Both neurodivergent coded
Stede Bonnet my autistic icon. Just, the way he goes about social interactions and his knowledge about things is so reminiscent of trying to understand social rules and masking and special interests. There's even the little things like his love of books and needing things spelled out to him and when he commented on the textures of the privateer clothing.
And there's definitely a reason loads of people love to read Ed as adhd: his brain thinking of plans ahead in the future, feeling stuck in life, collection of items in a "messy" room, and that fancy French party man. His reading is less overt and more nuanced to me, but I still feel connected to him like I do with Stede, like how I would feel when watching a show about autistic people.
2. Their neurodivergent relationship
I've said before that most relationships we see are with an autistic/allistic. It falls under the "teaching" category and makes me feel like its trying to make a point, like yes, autistic people can have relationships like anyone else and they are lovable enough to neurotypicals!!!1!!1!
So imagine my absolute glee at how when Stede and Ed have their first proper conversation, it goes like
Ed seemingly seeking a sensory touch from the softness of a fabric
Stede instead of judging him on doing something "weird" asks if he enjoys it
And because they find they both enjoy this certain thing
Stede shows him his safe space to Ed full of this same kind of thing Ed liked
Ed then expresses his personal feelings to Stede
And gets no judgment, in fact a show of agreement and sympathy
And then they do something that's like an inside joke that's really only funny to them
And then Ed encourages Stede to be confident by supporting him
This is thee meet-cute, nothing can ever top this cute and honest beginning of a medium-burn relationship, change my mind
Most of what autistics want more than anything, romantic or otherwise, is to feel listened to and accepted. And we get this almost immediately, with BOTH Stede and Ed feeling appreciated!!!!
3. No neurodivergent preaching
When autistic love is shown in media, it's usually never the focal point. The main thing is about the person having the disability - even shows I love and praise for its relationship representation like Extraordinary Attorney Woo and Everything's Gonna Be Okay do the same thing
Ofmd acknowledges issues existing like colonialism, racism and homophobia, yet this show is not about that. The characters are allowed to exist and be themselves and happy without having this fact shoved down their throat every waking second and the villains who keep up the systemic issues get their comeuppance, usually by that person they were hurting.
And I here what you're saying: that neurodivergency is not canon and so doesn't have the direct acknowledgement like the other issues I mentioned... well.
We don't see sexism in ofmd, yet we all understand how Mary wouldn't be able to make the same choices Stede could on leaving their family. We know that the French party were entertained by Ed, not just cause of his stories as Jeff The Accountant.
Stede was bullied in his childhood by his father and classmates for not fitting in, for standing out - yes this obviously reads as homophobia, but many neurodivergents can relate to feeling exactly like this, some i bet almost being in the same situation as Stede is when it comes to things like crying easily and liking to pick flowers
So a moment like Stede playing Stark Revelations, where he gets to make fun of people that were like those in his old life AND being able to defend his one and only friend? That felt pretty damn good to watch myself.
Even without the romance, you still have a show where the two main characters are encouraged to be themselves in every way. This is a far cry from other media where even though they aren't explicitly stated to be neurodivergent, they are generally unlikeable and/or characters around them scold and pressure them to change into something "better" (Sherlock, Big Bang Theory, etc etc). Doesn't change the fact they are read as neurodivergent and thus seen as harmful representation for people who are "similar" to them irl
Meanwhile, Ed and Stede love each other because of who the other is, no narrative about them having to fall in love with the other despite their differences... but because they found something in each other they always wanted to find, and to feel loved in return
And the narrative doesn't preach to you or tries to fix them. Instead it says "this is our main character who happens to be white and middle aged, and this is his love interest who happens to be middle-aged and a Māori man, and this is their love story". And it is so goddamn neurodivergent
196 notes
·
View notes
Story of Kunning Palace E03 (semi-live reaction)
So, it's our heroine's fate to always be crushed on by the spoiled Princess? LOL
There's no way a young woman who climbed all the way to Empress can avoid most of the path to that fate. In most of the webnovels of this type I've read, reaching that type of pinnacle means you have a fate with it, regardless of the ultimate outcome. The best Xue Ning can do is flip the script on circumstances while doing her best to skirt around the thornier aspects of future events.
1st Life: the Princess thinks back to her first encounter with Xue Ning with humiliation, embarrassment and rage
2nd Life: the Princess will think back on their first encounter with pride, happiness and warmth
So far so good. Although I totally get why she'd want to avoid tangling with a temperamental royal who she had a terrible experience with.
...
I really like how this show is shot. Sometimes you never know with cdramas if you'll get a cheap or pedestrian directing style or a dramatic and/or compelling one.
...
The show is still building its foundations and I'm just so eager to jump into the action!
*fight sequence starts 1 minute later* AND HERE WE GO!
Dude is more pissed off by the damaged qin strings than the assassination attempt! HA!
Xue Ning, as hostage: *minimize connections to minimize involvement* Mr. Hostage-taker, sir, I know Xie Wei only through the grapevine...
Xie Wei: MISS XUE NING, PLEASE DON'T SELL OUR CONNECTION SO SHORT! YOUR FATHER AND I ARE GREAT FRIENDS! IN FACT, YOU ARE MY LIFE SAVIOR!
Xue Ning:
...
Take me instead.
Mmm. Something about the silky oomph with which he said that line combined with his expression... Okay, okay, Zhang Ling He. It took three episodes but you got me: the character of Xie Wei is now officially attractive to me. All he had to do was low key deliver a line that just vibrates with high key threat.
Man, what era are my hormones in? Between finding my mojo over one ML threatening to tear an offensive man's tongue out and fixing my posture when this one is nothing but velvet menace, I need a name for it. I need to know. Should I be worried? Scared? Aroused?
oh. oh. he's so sexy... okay, now you're just showing off; put the murderous sexiness away
Not this man calling her out, leaving her neither a fissure to hide in or a crumb for modesty!
I... I can't wait until he's incandescently in love with her because I just know, I just know it will be so magnificent I won't know what to do with myself.
Girl, while you are absolutely right to defend your current relationship with Yan Lin and right to say it is a flirtation that is undeserving of such rude scrutiny... you (and us) know that man speaks no lies. You are trifling with Yan Lin and you would have done him plenty of harm without the benefit of literal 20/20 hindsight.
That being said, I see @dangermousie point: kicking off a relationship trying to gin up, stoke and maintain fear in the other party is an excellent way to receive future comeuppance in the form of watching the woman you desperately love side-eye you as she lavishes protection and support on her other suitors.
...
I like Yan Lin. Not too sorry to say that. Hopefully Life No. 2 keeps him off the rapist track.
It's nice seeing Xue Ning enjoying festivities. The impression I have of her first life self is that while she reveled in being "wild", she likely didn't really allow herself to enjoy being young and with friends, too busy being hungry.
Dear. God. That seamless transition from earnest Yan Lin in Life No. 2 waxing poetic about his first impressions of Xue Ning to embittered Yan Lin in Life No. 1 waxing poetic about his first impressions of Xue Ning with the exact. same. words. Add to it the implied threat of sexual violence in LIfe No. 1!!!
Chills.
*gagging* Did I say I like Yan Lin? Show, it's going to be hard for me to keep that opinion if you keep flashing back to that.
Me during the Life No. 2 Ning x Yan kiss scene:
I want no part of it.
All right, dude, are you telling me you raped her because she plain text told you she planned to marry someone who could help her achieve her goals?! She didn't sell you out to the devil... Or refuse to shelter either you or wounded family members... but because when you were at your lowest, like the bitch she admittedly is... was..., she told you the truth and cut ties? I mean, that's reason enough not to warn her a coup is coming for her ass in Life No. 1. There's no reason for rape, ever; even if she lit your dog on fire, you can't rape her. Just WTF, guy?!
...
Not that it excuses any of her horrid behavior but I can see how lonely Xue Ning is in what should be her familial home. That cozy scene between her parents and half-sister where in her absence there is only affection and warmth and in her presence, only awkwardness and discomfort.
She lived a childhood in poverty and exile being spoken and looked down upon; returned to her parents' home to find herself being shunted as second-born (in an era where hierarchy matters) and defective instead of receiving proper homecoming. I can see why the attraction of her sole dream, her ultimate goal - becoming Empress - would become all-consuming, especially if such a dream sustained her in exile and fueled her defiance at home.
...
Oh, jesus christ, Yan Lin, don't be an idiot! Don't believe in an enemy soldier during wartime, like...?!
...
So Xue Ning might have accidentally sold Yan Lin out to the devil.
But in her defense, that wasn't her intention. Just to watch him. Like a politics-minded creeper.
Me to Ning as she reads her former coachman cum spy to filth: GET HIM.
26 notes
·
View notes
it's enough to make a girl blush
Summary: You want to get high but don't know how, Eddie offers his services in more way than one. (6.8k words) read on ao3 here
Pairing: Eddie Munson x popular!reader
Warnings: NSFW, smut, drugs, nervous and shy eddie but we all know what he's like in bed (*cough cough* the black handkerchief), face sitting (f receiving), whole lotta praise going both ways, PIV sex, playful/mean banter, fluff, dacryphilia, mentions of one non existent and sexual slap, let me know if i missed anything!
A/N, okay this is totally based off of Wet Dream by Wet Leg, i was listening to it on my way to work and it was making me think of eddie.... kfjdghjkhdfg this is so embarrassing, anyways. enjoy this disgusting mess
It’s unlike you, he thinks, when you approached him on that perfectly normal after school afternoon.
Eddie doesn’t know you. You don’t know him. But you’re popular so he knows what you’re like, how you act and recently you had been looking like someone had sucked everything out of you. Life, light, whatever you wanna call it. You had been completely unlike yourself lately so maybe he should have seen it coming, actually. That one of the most popular girls in school would approach him, in need of something to make her forget, take her some place else.
Something was in the air. Summer just around the corner, the promise of graduation sweet yet righteous on his tongue. Change was a’coming, indeed, and with it, a new longing, a fire appeared in you.
Maybe it was just the leftover weed fogging up his brain, making him wax poetic to himself. Maybe he was still high from his mid afternoon sesh. Maybe that’s how he managed to act so cool around you.
You’re sitting on a bench out front with your ‘friends’ (using that word very loosely) when the final bell of the day goes off and the kids coming pouring out of the doors in loud, boisterous chatter.
You hear him before you see him. Eddie Munson screaming after one of those kids he hangs around for some reason. The kid follows Eddie to his van, bothering him about something. You pretend not to look or listen as they walk by, but frankly anything was better than whatever the fuck these people around you were talking about. You quickly choose to clue back into Eddie and his curly haired companion.
He scolds the child away and suddenly what you see is an opening. A way out. You stand abruptly from the bench and head over to Munson.
“Where are you going?” Someone calls after you. You roll your eyes and ignore them.
Eddie’s got his back to you, yelling something final at the kid who walks away, clearly defeated.
“Hey.” You shout, approaching where Eddie stands leaned against his van. He jumps, spinning around to face you.
Eddie’s eyes go wide, quickly jutting his arm out to lean against his van casually. You think his cheeks go red but your face also feels hot so you don’t think about it for too long.
“Oh, hey you.” He says like he knows you.
He doesn’t. He definitely knows of you but you’ve never actually spoken before. Until now.
“Hey.” You repeat, totally forgetting why you even came up to him in the first place. He stares at you with those big, brown eyes that make him look like a baby cow, a smile grows on his face while you try to remember what you wanted to say.
“I um… I heard you have dr-”
“Yup, yup. I definitely have those.” He nods, quickly trying to cut you off before you fully just ask for drugs in the school parking lot.
“Okay well, I want some.”
Eddie looks at you for a second, his smile only growing. He laughs.
“Really?” Eddie quizzes, lifting an eyebrow at you and you glare at him, trying to hold your ground. “You, Miss Popular, want to get high-” He says in a mocking, singsong voice before you shush him, quickly looking back at your friends.
You grab Eddie’s arm and pull him to the passenger side of his van, away from where your friends can see you.
“Woah, hey, no need to get handsy.” He smiles, very much enjoying your smaller hand grasping at his jacket.
“Fuck off, Munson.”
He just smiles at you. You’re standing offly close to him, you realize. You take a step back and he resumes how he was leaning against his van, lean arms crossed over his chest.
“I’m serious.” You press, not sure why he’s passing up on some easy money. Doesn’t he sell to anyone?
Eddie gives you a once over, trying to decide for himself if he wants to do this.
“Well if you’re so serious, I could uh, I have them back at my place if you want them right now? I could drive us there-”
“Yes. Yeah now is good.”
Eddie nods, his hand wrapping around the door handle and opening the passenger door for you. He motions you inside with a theatrical hand wave.
“After you, sweetheart.” You let a small smile crack across your demeanor as Eddie takes your hand in his and helps you into the tall van. He slams the door behind you and jogs to the other side. He glances quickly at where your friends are sitting as he rounds his van, he sees them gawking at him and where they probably just saw you both talking.
He gets in his van regardless, looking over at you staring out of the window, already dazed at something that’s clearly on your mind. He swears he doesn’t let his stare linger at the way your skirt rides up on your thighs.
“Your friends were staring.” He informs you, starting the van which ignites obnoxiously loud.
You huff something annoyed, rolling your eyes before turning to glare at him for a second “I don’t care. Just drive, freak.” You force a smile and hit his thick arm. Eddie smiles and pulls out of the school parking lot.
//
You’re out of it.
Your mind is blank the entire way there, nothing but those rings of his, glinting and gleaming in the late afternoon sunlight as he grips the steering wheel all the way to his trailer. It’s mesmerizing, the way he drives, sexy even, you find yourself thinking. The way he taps on the steering wheel, the competence.
He had put the radio on, you’re sure of it. Something was playing but you couldn’t hear it until it was abruptly being cut off. You had arrived at his trailer and he was already jogging to your side again, helping you out.
“Oh, thanks.”
“Of course, m’lady.” He jokes, running up the steps to his trailer. You snort, muttering ‘nerd’ under your breath as you follow him up the stairs.
He’s quick to unlock the door, you're right behind him before he’s spinning around, putting both his arms out as he stands in the middle of the doorway, blocking your entrance. You nearly walk into his chest while he peers down at you, smiling.
“Uh, let me in.”
“My uncle isn’t home. The place is a mess, just stay out here while I clean up-”
“Eddie, I don’t care-”
“Thanks, I'll be quick!” And he’s slamming the door in your face.
You groan, annoyed while you hear him throw shit around, turn the sink on and yell to himself. You’re out there for a total of five minutes before he’s stomping towards the door again, muttering ‘fucking shit’, while it sounds like he trips over something before he’s swinging the door open again.
He breathes your name, clearly out of breath, “What a surprise, I had no idea you’d be here, please come in.”
You roll your eyes but smile as you squeeze past him, your shoulder grazing his chest.
“This is my castle.” He grins, way too pleased with himself.
You walk into his living room and look around, it’s dark, warmly lit and it smells like him, not overwhelming like that boy smell, that I haven’t left my room except to piss and shit smell. It smells comforting, you sort of like it. Oddly enough.
“Alright so weed, I’m guessing?” He asks as he stalks back into his room, already looking for his stash.
“Y-Yeah.” You stand there awkwardly, not sure if you should sit down or just wait till he gets back, hand him the money and leave. He returns too quickly and tosses you a little plastic baggie that you nearly miss.
“There you go, missy. That enough for you?” He jokes, smiling as he comes to stand in front of you.
You look at the bag, totally clueless. “Yup, looks good. How much?”
Eddie’s eyes go wide, like he hadn’t even considered it. He hadn’t, truthfully. He scratches the back of his neck, pulling his Hellfire shirt even tighter across his torso than it already was.
“Uh… just give me like ten bucks.”
You nod and quickly fish out your wallet from your bag.
“Is that okay?” He asks, suddenly feeling weird about making you pay him. He’s already giving you a discount, okay, more than a discount, he’s basically just giving you his weed for nothing but pennies and he so badly wants to point it out, to let you know that he’s doing something nice for you. Maybe because you’re pretty. Either way, he says nothing.
You pull a ten from your bag, smiling and handing it to him. “Yup.”
Eddie smiles and takes it from you. You put your wallet back in your bag and look at the weed in the baggie. It’s so green and fuzzy, you’re suddenly very aware that you don’t know what to do with it.
Eddie observes you observing the weed, smiling to himself as you move it around in the plastic bag, inspecting it while biting your lip.
“Have you never smoked before?” He asks, a little incredulously. You shake your head no, clearly very embarrassed.
Eddie smiles, wishing you’d look at him. He’s never seen you look so small before, so shy and timid. But here you were, in his trailer asking him for help. Something blooms in his chest and he desperately tries to swallow it down.
“Do you want me to show you?” Eddie offers, like he could read your mind.
“Yes. Yes please.” You breathe, a little relieved that he offered, saving you from pathetically asking.
Eddie grabs the little bag back from you, you mutter a tiny and quiet, “Thanks.”
“Pleasures all mine, princess.”
Then he’s grabbing your hand and pulling you into his room. And you let him.
Eddie rearranges a few things while you take the liberty of sitting on his bed, looking around at all the posters and art he’s got on his walls. It’s very him, everything screams Eddie.
He finally sits down next to you, hunching over his bedside table as he crumbles up the weed into a little paper roll, rolling the crushed up plant before he brings it up to his lips to lick the paper shut.
You look away when he does that, feeling your face go hot.
When he’s done, he holds out the joint to show you the finished thing.
“Cool.” You say lamely. You cringe but Eddie smiles.
He puts it between his lips, digging his lighter out of his jacket pocket and brings it up to the tip of it, lighting it up as he sucks, hollowing out his cheeks. He inhales, quickly in short puffs, and you watch mesmerized as the tip of the joint lights up red with the flame and Eddie quickly controls it, blowing out the gray smoke from the corner of his mouth before handing the joint to you.
“Got it, babe?”
Babe.
Your stomach flips at the sweet name. Could you be high already? No, that definitely wasn’t possible.
You nod your head, not trusting your voice as you hold the joint awkwardly, bringing it up to your lips and trying to inhale it like he did.
He coaches you through it, and after a few failed attempts, you declare “It’s not working, I don’t feel anything.”
Eddie snorts, “You’re not inhaling it properly, look.” He grabs the joint from your fingers and holds it up to your lips himself.
“Inhale it into your mouth and then once the smoke is in there, inhale again so it goes into your lungs.”
His fingers brush against your lips as you take the tip of the joint into your mouth, maintaining eye contact with Eddie. Fuck, you could die right now. This was so humiliating.
“Breathe with me okay?” You nod your head, pursing your lips around the joint, sort of kissing his fingers and watch as he breathes, following along with him.
Breathe in, into the mouth. And then again, into your lungs.
You feel it go in because you cough like you're dying, your lungs and chest on fire. Eddie smiles, proud.
“There you go, atta girl.” He puts his hand on your back, rubbing it in small circles as you try to compose yourself, tears welling in your eyes.
“You okay? Need water or something?” He’s already going to stand up to get you what you need but you shake your head, grabbing at his arm to keep him close, keep him with you as you cough a final time.
“No, no I’m okay.” You croak, wiping your eyes.
Eddie’s heart fucking soars in his chest, you’re so fucking cute. You’re a pretty crier.
“Fuck that hurts. How do people do this?” You whine, wiping more tears that fall. Eddie gets comfortable next to you and lays down on his back. He puts the joint back between his own lips.
“You get used to it.” You look back at him once you’ve composed yourself and turn so you’re sitting facing him.
He’s got one hand behind his head, the other holding the joint between his lips. His shirt rides up on his torso and you can see bits of his stomach poking from underneath, the trail of hair on his lower stomach that goes south, below his jeans and you have to stop yourself from staring at it.
“Come here.” Eddie asks, voice gone soft. You tilt your head at him, unsure of what he means.
“Lie down, I have an idea.”
You do as you’re told and lie down on your side next to him. He rolls onto his side so you’re face to face. His cheeks light up bright.
“I’m going to take a hit and then blow it out into your mouth.”
“O-Okay.”
“That way you won’t cough, I mean.” He stutters.
You smile, “Okay.”
Eddie shuffles closer to you a bit, putting the joint back into his mouth and sucking in.
“Open your mouth.” He tells you and your tummy swoops low into the bowl of you, you clench your thighs.
You lean into him. “Don’t try anything, Munson.”
He scoffs, like it’s ridiculous, like he wouldn’t absolutely try something. Only if he knew you wanted it.
You open your mouth, a breath away from him. His heart fucking soars at how easily you did what he asked of you. He briefly wonders what else you’d do, if only he asked.
He leans in too, instinctually palming your jaw to encourage you to keep your mouth open. He opens his and blows the smoke into you. You close your eyes, but Eddie keeps his open, watching you. The way your lips open for him, how plump they are, how close you are. He could literally kiss you right now. He could literally just lean into you-
You giggle.
You lean back from him and open your eyes, having inhaled all the smoke. The whites of your eyes are redder, heavier to open suddenly and you giggle like it’s funny, like you both didn’t almost just kiss.
Eddie giggles too.
“Good?” He asks, out of breath. He hadn’t realized he was holding it.
You look up at him through your lashes, nodding your head. “Gooood.” You giggle again.
Eddie’s transfixed. He stares at you for a moment while you just sort of smile to yourself.
“D-Do you wanna watch a movie or something?” He suggests without really thinking it over, without thinking if you would even want to hang out with him.
But your eyes are loud with something when you look up at him from underneath your lashes.
“Yeah.���
//
You’re both sat next to each other, backs against his head board, arms touching. You’re so close together for no reason but neither of you have made any sort of move to distance yourselves from the other. He took his jacket off so he’s left in nothing but his club’s shirt, you can feel his body heat radiating off onto you and its fucking intoxicating.
Eddie pops something into his VCR player. He picks something classic, something you’ve both seen before. Perfect so that he can just stare at you the entire time.
“Stop staring at me, Munson.” You smile, feeling his eyes burning a hole into the side of your face.
“I’m not.” He says while continuously staring at you, smiling as well.
You turn to look at him and he’s quick to turn away, head snapping back to the small TV he’s got across from his bed.
You’re so close to him, you can see so much of his face.
Since when was Eddie Munson pretty. Pretty hair, pretty eyes, oh my god his eyes. You could stare at them all day.
You giggle to yourself, tilting your head and resting it on his shoulder. Eddie’s breath hitches in his throat, caught off guard by you literally snuggling into his side.
“You smell good.” You smile, pressing your nose into his arm and inhaling. Eddie giggles. You giggle too. You can’t stop fucking giggling.
You look up at him from your shoulder, blinking those big eyes at him, lashes fluttering. Eddie can see the tips of them kissing the tops of your cheeks, caressing the skin there like he wishes he could. He wants to be a fucking eyelash on your face if it means being even closer to you.
You bite your lip, getting lost in his big eyes. Eddie groans.
“Don’t give me those eyes, baby.”
Baby. You smile, you fucking beam.
“What eyes?” You ask innocently, even though you’re semi aware of how you’re looking at him.
Like you need him.
“Those… those fuck me eyes, those please fuck me Eddie eyes.” He snorts but his expression remains serious, his eyes remaining on yours, pleading you to stop but he doesn’t really want you to stop.
And all you do is giggle.
You sit up, coming to face him and suddenly you’re climbing into his lap, throwing a leg over him and sitting yourself down right on his crotch. Eddie groans, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. This cannot actually be happening, you cannot actually be sitting on him right now.
“You’re really fucking high right now, aren’t you?” Eddie groans, your name leaving his lips like you’ve already gotten him breathless.
“So are you.” You smile, putting your hands on his shoulders, tracing them along his neck, his jaw.
“Yeah but you- you don’t actually want this.”
You scrunch up your face, furrowing your brows and Eddie’s worried he’s said something to upset you. “Who said that?”
“No one had to say it. Girls like you don’t want guys like me, princess. Not that hard of an equation.”
You giggle again and he really just wants to kiss you.
“Aren’t you failing math?”
Something pangs in his chest.
“That’s not the point-”
“Then what is?” You press, leaning into him, rocking your crotch against his and Eddie groans again, his gorgeous neck straining.
“T-The point… the point is uh- um.”
You lean into him, pressing your lips on his neck, kissing the vein that pulses with his thrumming, nervous, fucking alive pulse. And you suck on it.
“Yes?” You ask, pulling away to let your lips brush along his skin to beg the question.
“You’re just- I’ve thought about you, this before and-” You pull away, shocked by his admission.
Eddie looks up at you, startled by you pulling away, by your swollen lips coated in your own spit, those wide eyes you give him. Fuck, what did he say? The growing bulge in his pants is sucking up more and more of his brain power the longer you’re around him-
“You think about me?” You ask, voice bright and delighted.
Eddie squeezes his eyes shut, like that would somehow make him more sober to process whatever the fuck was going on right now.
“Yeah.” He finally admits, voice tight and strained in his throat.
You lean into him, resting your forehead against his, nudging his nose with yours and Eddie’s breath shudders.
“When?”
“W-What?”
“When do you think about me?”
Eddie groans again. “You’re fucking killing me.” He lurches forward, trying to capture your mouth with his but you pull back, a shit eating grin on your face and he wants to slap it off of you. He wonders if you’d like that.
“When, Munson?”
He chews on his lip before growling at you, “At night. I think about you when I’m alone, at night, right here, in my bed. I think about you when I touch myself. Is that what you wanted to hear?”
Your mouth drops open, you’re completely shocked. He gave you the exact answer you had hoped for but yet, you couldn’t have expected it to be the truth. Eddie huffs, pleased he finally shut you up.
“Any more questions?” He asks rhetorically before surging forward and shoving his tongue down your throat.
You moan into his mouth, letting his warm tongue inside and trace along yours. His lips are plush, warm and wet and you find yourself wanting to bite them but you’re too lost to his touch to do anything about it. Eddie’s hands go up your back, one pulling on your hair and the other going around your throat, not squeezing but just keeping it there, almost in a reassurance.
Your hands go to his chest, gripping the neck of his shirt so tight like if he were to ever pull away, you’d surely die.
So you pull away first. You push on his chest and his lips move from yours, not without a whine on his part. You’re both breathing heavy, you smile, pleased with how disheveled and absolutely fucked he looks.
“W-What makes you think you’re good enough to think about me when you’re touching yourself?” You ask, voice no more than a whisper as you’re barely able to muster the words.
Eddie moans wantonly and lunges back into you, latching his teeth into your neck and biting. You moan in pain, curling into him as he soothes the bite mark with his warm and wet tongue, kissing all over. He groans against your sweet skin, he needs to know if you’re sweet somewhere else.
“Sit on my face.” He mumbles, so low and gravely you barely hear it but he’s shifting under you. You scramble to hold onto him, trying to understand.
“W-What?”
“Sit on my face, need to know what you taste like.” Eddie groans, toying with the hem of your skirt.
You nod your head quickly, lifting yourself off of him to pull your skirt down and you very quickly realize you’re wearing a less than flattering pair of underwear.
“S-Sorry I didn’t realize this would be happening, I would have-” You babble as he pulls you back down into his lap like it’s second nature at this point, to have you on him.
Eddie smiles, running his thumbs along your hips, letting his fingers get hooked into the waistband of your panties while he admires them.
“Would have what? Not worn your cute little panties with hearts and bows all over them?” He sneers almost meanly, nipping at your cheek and you whine.
“No,” he continues, “I’m glad you did, they’re fucking cute. Little miss innocent.” You giggle at that, at the stupid nickname.
“Can you keep them on?” He asks, begs sort of.
You nod your head with vigor, smiling. “Y-Yeah.”
“That’s my girl.” Eddie says, kissing your lips once before he's making you sit up on your knees so that he can slide underneath you until his face is directly underneath your cunt. You can feel his warm breath fanning out onto your thighs and the space in between them.
My girl my girl my girl my girl-
Eddie presses feather light kisses over your underwear, right where you leak for him and you shudder. He brings his hands up to the tops of your thighs, gripping the flesh there. The coolness of his rings bites at your heated skin.
“I said sit on me.”
And he’s hauling you down onto his face, so that you’re truly sitting on him and you yelp at the sudden contact. Eddie chuckles darkly, nuzzling his nose through your clothed folds and you gape at him.
He kisses you there, just over your underwear until the fabric is wet with his saliva and your arousal alike, until he can taste you through the fabric and you’re shaking above him, begging him to do something. It’s dirty, disgusting, and wet and fucking obscene. No one’s ever kissed you over your underwear before, no one’s ever gone down on you. It makes you grow hot in the face, embarrassed almost.
Eddie finally pulls your underwear to the side before you can ask him to, and he’s shoving his face into your cunt, lapping and eating you so hard it has you gripping his headboard, resting your forehead on it so you can look down at him underneath you, in between your legs.
His eyes are closed, his jaw working while he takes and takes and takes and all you can do is let him. He looks so pretty down there, totally blissed out.
“F-Fuck, Eddie.”
You squeal when he runs circles around your clit, flicking it quickly before shoving his tongue as far as it’ll go into your hole. You moan and work your hips along his face, riding his tongue while he grips your thighs, helping you move faster.
“T-That feels… that feels-” You can barely think, your barely formed sentence being cut off by a ragged moan bubbling through your chest, up your throat. Eddie hums against you, into your pussy and your hips stutter against his face from the vibrations.
“Good?” He mumbles against you and you moan.
“S-So good- shit, I think…”
It comes out of nowhere, your orgasm. You rock your hips two, three more times before you go silent and convulse, thighs and pelvis shaking as you come in his mouth, crying out his name shamelessly. Eddie groans, drinking what you give him until you’re squeezing your eyes shut, and trying to pull away from his relentless mouth.
He pulls you back down, holding you against his lips, his open mouth. He licks at you with his broad tongue.
“You taste so fucking good, sweetheart.”
You’re breathless, you can’t fucking speak as he pulls himself up from underneath you, sitting back next to you on his bed. You fall into him, trying to climb back into his lap and he smirks, lips swollen and wet with you and you so badly need to taste yourself from his mouth.
So you kiss him, you shove your tongue into his mouth this time and tug at his shirt, hands frantic and moving to his belt, trying to unbuckle it.
Eddie tries to pull away from you, he says your name, “W-We can’t, you’re too high.”
“Shut up.” You groan, trying to work his belt but it’s much more confusing than it should be. The buckle looked like faux handcuffs and you briefly wondered if he had a real pair somewhere in his room. It wouldn’t surprise you. If anything, it excites you.
“I’m serious.” He insists.
“So am I.”
He takes your hands into his and grips them hard, stopping you from undoing his belt any further.
“Fuck off, Eddie, you can’t make me cum like that and then not fuck me.”
He says nothing, just lets you kiss him all over his face while he weighs his morals in his head.
“I’ve wanted this.” You tell him, pressing your lips to the corner of his mouth.
“Really?” He asks, like he didn’t just fuck your pussy with his tongue for the past fifteen minutes.
“Yes oh my god, how many times do I have to say it.”
You push him on his chest until he’s flat on his back, staring up at you with those big eyes while you take his shirt off.
“I want you, Eddie. I want you to fuck me so bad.”
You peel the white shirt till it’s off him and get caught up staring at his tattoos. You didn’t realize he had so many, they’re extremely attractive and you find yourself wanting to touch and trace and ask about each one. You want to know which one is his favorite, which one he got first, which one he got last-
Eddie’s caught you in a moment of introspection, he grabs you and flips you over so that you’re underneath him.
“Fuck you’re pretty when you beg for me like that.”
He sits up on his knees above you and undoes his belt, whipping it off with a loud smack before shucking his black jeans and boxers down his legs.
You sit up abruptly at the sight of his cock. It’s prettier than you thought it’d be, just like the rest of him. Eddie pushes you back down, you whine.
“I-I want you in my mouth, please?”
Eddie groans, grabbing the base of his cock and squeezing his eyes shut. “God fuck, next time okay? If I don’t get inside you in the next three seconds I’m going to cum all over your stomach.”
Next time. You smile and nod your head. Him cumming on your stomach doesn’t sound half bad but you don’t protest at the promise of getting fucked soon.
You pull your shirt over your head while Eddie pulls your wet panties down your legs and across his room somewhere. He pins you underneath him, holding both your hands above your head, stretching you out all nice and pretty. His eyes glance over at the handcuffs by his bed, but he decides on using those another time. He doesn’t want to scare you off with too much too fast. He doesn’t know what you like yet.
“I can’t believe you’re in my bed.” Eddie admits, his cheeks pink, full lips twitching into a smirk.
“Me either.” You whimper, smiling. You can’t stop smiling at him.
Eddie leans down and sucks a welt into your neck, his dick brushing against your lower belly and you arch into him, needing him inside of you.
“How do you want it? Tell me how you like getting fucked.” He asks, mouth still wet on your neck. You groan, eyes squeezed shut trying to process what the fuck he just asked you.
“I-I don’t know, just, however you want it.”
Eddie pulls back to look at you, his eyes big and wanting, pure black obsidian even in his blacked out room. You give those same eyes back to him and he sweats he could cum from the sight alone.
“Do whatever you want to me, Eds.”
Eddie throws his head back, neck straining as he bites back a moan, a groan erupting through his throat.
“You’re a fucking wet dream, baby.”
You hum, your mind a million miles away yet so intently focused on the feeling of his weight on top of you.
“Please…” You whine, totally aware of what you’re asking before but if he stopped and asked you in that moment you wouldn’t be able to answer.
He’s quick to compose himself at your plea. He reaches over to his bedside drawer, pulling out a condom and quickly ripping it open with his teeth, rolling it onto his thick cock. The act is so simple, so normal, yet you cannot look away, totally mesmerized by the dexterous movement - the way you know he’s done this so many times from how quick he is.
Eddie shuffles himself back in between your thighs, slicking up his dick with the wetness that continuously seeps from you and notches himself at your entrance, barely pushing the head in.
“W-Whatever I want?” He asks again, eyes meeting yours in a final reassurance. You wrap your arms around his neck, hauling yourself into him and wrapping your legs high up on his waist, trying to push him into you but he’s stronger, holding himself right where he is until you answer him.
“Say it, I just need you to say it, princess.”
“Yes, yes whatever you want,” you cry, “fuck me however you want Eddie I can take it - shit!”
He suddenly pushes the entire length of his cock into your slick pussy in one harsh thrust. Fire splits up through you at the sudden intrusion, the sudden split of your cunt around him and he watches, completely mesmerized by the way your jaw falls open, nearly completely slack. How your eyes go wide and then nearly instantaneously roll into the back of your head. You’re fucking beautiful.
Eddie repositions himself, rolling his hips out and then back in more slowly this time and you cry out, trying to cling to him but Eddie pushes you till you’re flat down on his mattress. He takes the crook of your knee into his hand and folds your leg until it's pressed against your breast.
“I’m not going to be gentle, next time maybe but I can’t-”
“Stop talking and fuck me, Munson.”
“Don’t have to tell me twice.”
“Well apparently I do because you keep fucking talk- oh fuck.”
Eddie saws his hips into yours with a force that takes the breath from your chest. He pins you down beneath him and quickly begins to pummel into your pussy. The stretch is divine, it makes you feel alive, makes you feel your own fucking pulse as he continuously pushes his body in and out of your own.
Eddie is mesmerized watching him disappear inside of you, the way your body so eagerly sucks him in, gripping him so tight he has to physically pull himself out just to push back in.
“Shit, shit, shit…” He mumbles to himself, eyes pinned on your puffy, glistening pussy.
Somehow, he manages to go harder, rutting into you so hard you swear you can feel him prodding at the base of your stomach.
“E-Eddie, oh my god…”
“I know baby, I know. S’fucking good, your pussy’s fucking perfect.” He babbles, leeting go of the death grip he had on your legs and falling into your chest, burying his face into your neck and kissing you as he shamelessly fucks into almost desperately.
Eddie fucks you so hard it has you seeing stars, tears prickling the corners of your eyes as he gives it to you so good. You feel a tear pearl and roll down your hot cheek. Eddie notices.
“A-Are you crying? Do you want me to-”
“No!” You scream, a sob escaping your throat as soon as he even begins to pull away from you, hauling him back onto you. Eddie chuckles, looking at your face for any sort of pain or hesitation but when his eyes meet yours, your eyes gone black like his, your feet digging into his ass to push him further into, he realizes you’re crying out of want, out of pure lust and pleasure.
More tears continue to fall as he picks up the pace again, holding himself above you on strong arms as his hips swing into yours, driving his cock into that spot so deep inside you over and over again. Moan bubbles up from your chest and you cry around it, totally fucked dumb on Eddie’s dick.
“Shit, you always cry this pretty when you’re getting fucked?” He asks, a teasing lilt to his voice as he noses at your cheek. You shake your head no, teary and bleary eyes meeting his.
“No?” Eddie presses, mockingly so, “those other guys not giving it to you good enough, sweetheart?”
You bite your bottom lip and shake your head no again, “J-Just you, Eds.”
He fucks you harder. Determination and pride coursing through him.
“Aww, what a shame. None of them know how sweet you feel, how tight you are.”
“Eddie-”
“No, it’s just me. Isn’t that right, princess?”
You squeeze your eyes shut, nodding your head yes vigorously as you quickly begin to chant yes yes yes yes yes yes over and over again.
Eddie chuckles darkly, licking at a salty tear that pools in the corner of your mouth. You’re quick to turn your head, to attach your lips to his and Eddie is all too happy to shove his tongue back down your throat while he’s balls deep inside of you. He feels so close, so enveloped in your sweetness, he feels fucking addicted to you.
“M’gonna cum.” You warn him, your chest arching into his, pebbled nipples brushing along his tattooed chest.
Eddie growls something possessed, something lustful as he takes his hand and holds your arched back against his body, his other hand comes up your throat, around your jaw and onto your cheek to press the side of your face down into his pillow. He presses his face into your cheek, lips brushing against the corner of your mouth as he speaks through clench teeth.
“Fucking do it, cum all over me baby. I want it, want it so bad.”
He feels you clench around him, feels how you pulse, how your eyes go wide, flit between both of his before they’re rolling back into your head and you cry out for him. Your nails sink into his back, scratching and clawing at him for dear life as you cum and cum harder than you think you ever have.
Your throat feels raw from the force of it, your face and body wet with tears and sweat and something else and Eddie’s close behind.
“That was so fucking hot, you’re so fucking hot, I’m gonna-”
“Please.” You beg him. His hips are quick to stutter into yours, his thrusts gone sloppy and imprecise but still just as hard.
He shoves himself into you two, three more times before he’s convulsing over your spent body, shoving his face into your neck as he groans pathetically, filling the condom. You suddenly wish you could feel that warmth spread inside you. But once Eddie’s body falls on top of yours, you can’t complain too much.
You’re both sweaty, no doubt a little messy. Eddie’s suddenly rolling off of you and you pout to yourself, watching as he carefully pulls the condom off of his cock, tying a knot and throwing it somewhere in his room.
“Ew.” You scrunch up your nose. Eddie looks at you, eyes wide, cheeks incredibly flushed a deep red. He looks beautiful. He smiles at you, flopping back down onto his back. He opens his arm and hauls you into the crook of his shoulder.
“I’ll get it later, I can’t get up right now.” He laughs and you feel it vibrate throughout him.
“Mmmmm… me neither.” You say, suddenly sleepily. Eddie looks down at you on his chest, your little sweaty face.
“Yeah? I tire you out?”
You snort, a retort building but quickly dying on your tongue as you just nod your head. Yeah, he fucking tired you out alright. You nuzzle your nose into his side, where his chest meets his arm. He still smells so good. You don’t want to pull away but you don’t know if you should, don’t know if he wants you to stay or go.
“You wanna just, wanna sleep here?” He asks innocently enough, like he could read your mind.
His hand finds the back of your arm and he traces his ringed fingers along your heated skin. It raises goosebumps in his wake and you shudder into him. You look up at him from underneath your lashes, exactly like you had when you first cuddled into him during the movie.
“Can I?”
A sly smile stretches across Eddie’s pretty and wide plump lips.
“Yeah, I’m not done with you yet.”
407 notes
·
View notes
another hermit hollow fic!! Hope you guys like this one, and stay tuned for some Interesting two fics in the future <3 enjoy, @majickth
People didn't move in to Hermit's Hollow. That just wasn't the case. Then again, no one moved out either. It was just a small, insular community, full of people who it seemed had known each other for years.
So imagine the surprise when a new person came, greeting Pearl with long built up feelings.
Her brother, they'd learned. A recently fired journalist, looking for peace and quiet for once.
Word travels fast in the Hollow.
Thus did news of his investigation into the hooded figures that townspeople dared not acknowledge.
It passed through trees, between lumberjacks. The blond one lugged a tree over her shoulder as she walked back towards town, pausing only to see her companion frozen in place.
"Ren?" She called to him. "What's got into you?"
"By the pricking of my thumb.." Ren muttered to himself, "something wicked this way comes.."
Shakespeare. She'd recalled Ren to have been a fan. Still, she didn't quite understand the usage of it now.
The news was spread among customers in a small bookshop near town. The librarian refused to say anything beyond cryptic messages and poetic waxing, all of which received eye rolls and "typical Joe"s from the customers. Except for one. A blond approached the counter, trying to look as casual as possible as he fidgeted with his feather earrings.
"Did-.. did he really say he was investigating.. them?"
"That's what I heard." Joe Hills, the owner of the bookshop, nodded and closed the book on his desk. "He's a journalist, I like journalists. They remind me of myself in a way... never know when to quit. Yknow, I think I met a journalist a while back. Some two,,, three? Years ago?"
The blond tuned out Joe's rambling, hastily paying for his books and leaving very quickly. Far too quickly for Joe to not at least be a little suspicious. He eyed the customer behind him, and shrugged.
"Oh well."
______________________
Hermit's Hollow was full of uneasy souls that afternoon. Coincidentally all blonde, a thought that crossed Ren's mind as he watched his,,, friend? Friend sounded good. Watched his friend stare at a scar on his wrist. The symbol was an almost perfect rectangle, permanently etched into the skin. Martyn had told him once what had marked him. A hot iron. Ren shuddered at the thought of it.
"You know, staring at it isn't gonna make it go away, dude." Ren called, arms crossed as he watched him.
"I know." Martyn sighed. Tired and drained, and so, so frustrated. "I don't know what to do at this point. Do I talk to him- ? Tell him its a bad idea?"
"I guess you have to.. Would he listen?"
"That's what I'm afraid of..."
It was certainly a fear not unfounded. And he wasn't the only one who felt it.
"Baby, you pacing is gonna make me dizzy." A soft laugh echoed through the electronics store, the owner of said store leaned over the counter as he watched his partner traverse the small shop, occasionally stumbling and tripping over his feet.
"Sorry.." He stopped, instead hugging his thin frame with a worried huff. "You know why I'm so freaked out.."
"I do." Tango nodded as he stepped out from behind the counter, frowning at the sight of his anxious partner as he pulled him into his arms. "C'mere... you wanna go home?"
"No,, no I'm okay.." He shook his head, relaxing into Tango's arms slowly. "Sorry.."
"Don't be sorry, Jimmy.. I get it.. hey, maybe it's just a rumor. Yknow?"
"Yeah.. rumor.."
The bell above Decked Out rang and Tango untangled himself from around Jimmy's frame, quickly ducking behind the counter again. "Welcome to Decked Out, what can I help you with?"
Jimmy turned to look at the customer, and all the color drained from his face. Exactly as described. Wiry frame, red sweater, glasses, journal and pen.
"Hi, I was told I might be able to find one James Tek here?"
Tango narrowed his eyes at the stranger, while Jimmy cleared his throat and stepped towards him.
"I'm him. Please, just call me Jimmy, everyone does."
"Jimmy, perfect." The stranger grinned. "Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?"
"I know what this is about.." Jimmy sighed. "I'll be back, Tangs..."
"Stay safe, baby.." Tango called out as they left.
Turns out, this was the rumored stranger, Grian. Pearl's brother. And Jimmy wasn't the only one being asked.
Martyn was also approached by this stranger, and asked the same question Jimmy dreaded now.
"What do you know about The Watchers?"
89 notes
·
View notes
savor it, lick it, say it’s bon
genre: romance; est. relationship au
pairing: han jisung x fem reader
word count: 3.6k
warnings: highly suggestive, allusions to sex (safe, sane, consensual) but not explicit, unorthodox use of chocolate again (well… only a bit), swearing, they just love each other a lot okay
request: no
a/n: set in the same universe as i will melt into you, a year and a half later, this fic is steamy and sweet. while not necessary, reading the original fic is highly recommended. you’ll appreciate a lot more of the dynamic here. oh, and this may or may not be an excuse for me to wax poetic about jisung without a shirt. enjoy, darlings ;)
↠ masterlist | comments & feedback appreciated! ↞
↠↞
Jisung sighed contentedly, snuggling down into the smooth sheets on the freshly made bed, the fluffy duvet adding just the perfect weight to be comfortable but not smothering. He could hear the crickets in the grass through the open window, their song swelling and ebbing like the crash of surf. How easy it would be to simply fall asleep to them. But before he could so much as turn out the light, Y/N appeared in the doorway.
This was expected. Normal, really. They lived together, after all. What was a bit unexpected for a quiet Friday night in was the set of lingerie she wore, the lace hugging her curves in ways Jisung could write songs about—and had. What was truly unexpected, though, was the bowl of melted dark chocolate she held in her hands.
“So,” she began, leaning nonchalantly against the doorframe, “I was thinking.”
“Always a dangerous pastime,” Jisung teased.
“Hush, you,” Y/N pouted. “I think you’re going to like what I have in mind.”
Jisung simply raised an eyebrow as Y/N came to sit on the edge of the bed, the delicious scent of the chocolate wafting to him. It was clearly still warm.
“So, we both know how much I love chocolate.” Y/N stated. It was a well-documented fact, after all. “And you know I love you.”
“Of course,” Jisung agreed, rolling onto his side and propping his head on his fist. Where was she going with this?
“Well, why not combine the two?” Y/N asked with a grin that could only mean trouble.
“Are you suggesting what I think you are?” Jisung drawled, tone belying his racing heart.
“That I lick this melted chocolate off your abs and everywhere else while you try not to scream?”
Jisung could feel the blush heating his face and how his pajama bottoms suddenly felt like five layers of clothing rather than one. “Oh.”
Y/N smirked as she noted his flushed skin, his sudden but minute squirm. “So, I take it you like this idea, baby?”
Jisung scrambled back up the pillows, shoving the comforter to the end of the bed, moving so quickly Y/N was forced to stand or be flung off the bed. “Fuck, yes, Y/N,” he exclaimed. “Promise you’ll let me do it to you, too, though?”
“Of course, Ji,” Y/N crooned, setting the bowl of chocolate on the nightstand and causing a small frown to pass over Jisung’s brow. But then, she slid fully onto the bed beside him and the feeling of her body pillowing against his as she leaned in to kiss him set Jisung utterly at ease. While the kiss was chaste and brief, Jisung knew what would follow would be nothing of the sort. He had the feeling he was in for a long night.
“So, darling,” Y/N murmured, “where shall I begin?” She traced her finger over his lips, his pectorals, his abdomen… lower, asking, “Here?” as she passed over each spot. Jisung watched that finger as she fully indulged in the feel of his skin against hers.
When Y/N slipped both thumbs into the waistband of his pajamas, Jisung immediately arched his hips off the bed so she could remove them. Y/N grinned, then, licking her lips and sitting up to straddle his thighs.
Jisung’s chest rose and fell, his eyes blown wide under Y/N’s gaze. He felt like a fawn caught in the piercing gaze of a wolf.
And he loved it.
There was nothing Jisung loved more than to trust Y/N entirely with himself, mind and body and soul. Even now, Jisung could feel his mind floating away and she hadn’t even started. Fuck.
Y/N must have been able to see it in his eyes because she cupped his face, thumbs stroking over his cheekbones. “I’ve got you, baby. What do you say if you want to stop?”
“Mint,” Jisung said, knowing he had to say at least that if he wanted her to continue. The feeling of the word in his mouth brought him a bit of clarity, a reminder that if he so much as breathed that word, everything stopped.
“Thank you, Jisung, so good.” Y/N kissed along his jaw as she praised him. “May I continue?”
“Yes,” he breathed.
“May I pour a little chocolate on you, baby? Lick it off you like you’re my own personal feast?”
Jisung whined and nodded enthusiastically, wriggling a bit underneath her.
Y/N giggled as she retrieved the bowl from the nightstand and dipped one finger into it before bringing it to her lips. “Ah, perfect,” she said, letting her eyes close. Once again she gathered chocolate on the end of her finger, but this time she pressed it to Jisung’s mouth. “Have a little taste. It’s good.”
The chocolate was delicious and not hot, just pleasantly warm. She had let him taste it not only for the chocolate, but to reassure him that he would not be harmed. Never.
So, Jisung watched as Y/N held the bowl above his chest and the molten chocolate poured over his chest, some of it sinking into the valley between his pectorals. Before he knew it, Y/N’s mouth was on him.
Sure, Jisung had enjoyed the wonders of Y/N’s tongue on his body innumerable times, but there was something different about this. The fact that she was licking chocolate off his body… Jisung couldn’t describe it. All he knew was that it was driving him slowly but surely into insanity.
Y/N sat up again to reach for the chocolate, and Jisung saw that her chin and lips were shiny with spit and chocolate. The sight had him feeling just a little fucked up.
When the chocolate hit his abs, Jisung keened softly. He could feel it slowly sliding toward downward, as if leading Y/N to where they both knew this would end. And, fuck… Her tongue laving over his skin was hot and so wet, and she was pinning his hips to the bed as if she knew he was getting desperate.
It felt too good.
“Jisungie, baby,” Y/N said, looking up his torso at him, a bit of chocolate somehow running down her neck. Jisung watched it, mesmerized. “Would you like me to keep going?”
“Fuck, please, Y/N,” Jisung begged. “Please.” He wasn’t ashamed. He would beg, if only to have her continue.
“I’m so glad you said that, darling. I’ve been enjoying the taste of you with that chocolate. How about I get an even better taste, hmm?”
Jisung let out a breathy Ah and felt his abs contract involuntarily as Y/N poured more chocolate on his stomach. Then, she laid her hand flat in said chocolate, thoroughly coating her palm before sliding it just that little bit further down his body. Jisung’s mind went wholly blank at the feeling of the chocolate against his most sensitive skin. How could it feel so… silky? All he could do was whimper softly and hope that Y/N would have mercy on him.
Jisung still felt like a fawn trembling before a wolf, Y/N teasing him and foiling his every attempt at release, at going up in flames. Each time he thought he could just let go, she would simply stop and return to leaving open-mouthed kisses over his skin.
When she finally had mercy on him, when all he could think Please, please, please, please, Jisung did scream in pleasure.
As his breathing returned to normal, Y/N trailed a finger through the mess of chocolate on his stomach, humming thoughtfully. His eyes closed, Jisung didn’t see the vulpine look she gave him as she surveyed her handiwork. (As expected, Jisung looked utterly debauched. Just how she liked him).
“So,” Y/N mused, licking her finger clean, “that was hot.”
Jisung could only nod in agreement, struck dumb by the pleasure she’d wrung out of him. When Y/N’s lips met his, he thought he could taste something mingling with the chocolate coating her tongue. Her kisses were gentle, grounding.
Suddenly, Jisung froze. “But what about you—” he asked, trying to sit up. “You didn’t…”
“It’s okay, baby,” Y/N reassured him, stroking his hair. “You can repay the favor later.”
“I will,” Jisung promised, his mouth set in a determined line.
After a considerable amount of lazy kissing and giggling, and so many repetitions of “I love you”, Y/N helped Jisung sit up and drink a little water. She then guided him to the shower, gently washing his hair and body before making sure he was okay to be on his own. Once he had dried himself, Jisung wandered back into the bedroom to find that Y/N had changed the sheets and set out more water for him.
“Do you want to get into some pajamas, baby?” Y/N asked.
“Nope, I’m fine. Kinda just want to feel you, you know?” Jisung replied.
“Alright, darling. Let me get out of these, then.” Y/N quickly shucked off her lingerie, then slipped in beside Jisung, opening her arms to him. “Come ’ere, Ji,” she murmured.
Jisung curled himself around Y/N with a contented sigh, her lips pressing a kiss to the crown of his head. He was going to sleep so well.
↠↞
Unlike most mornings when Y/N had to rub the sleep from her eyes—after snoozing her alarm several times and giving herself a pep talk to force her body out of bed—she awoke feeling surprisingly well-rested, considering the late hour at which she had fallen asleep. (This, of course, had been her fault. Y/N had been the one to suggest the chocolate and had been just this side of insatiable when it came to her boyfriend covered in melted chocolate. But who wouldn’t be? Regardless, any lost sleep was entirely on her). So, she wasn’t sure what had her eyes opening so early, but here she was, awake nonetheless.
Jisung was still asleep beside Y/N, his countenance softened in the pre-dawn light. His hair, growing longer by the day, fanned out against the pillow and looked not dissimilar to a bird’s nest from the number of times she had run her fingers through it the night before. His lips were parted ever so slightly, his little exhalations of breath tickling the hairs on Y/N’s arm where it lay folded between them. If she hadn’t been loathe to wake him, she would have leaned forward and gently kissed him awake.
For Jisung to sleep the night through was a rarity these days. Y/N’s heart ached for her boyfriend—well, perhaps more than just a boyfriend, she hoped—who loved nothing more than to curl up in a nest of blankets on the couch and watch a movie or read together. But the demands of his profession necessitated long hours and little sleep. Y/N was happy for him, that his career as a musician was successful, but sometimes…
Sometimes, she wished that he had chosen a different career path, even if simply to allow him a bit more rest. Y/N knew it was selfish, but he was her partner, her lover, Jisung. And in Y/N’s book, Jisung deserved the world.
They had moved in together just about a year after they had started dating. Jisung was practically living at Y/N’s apartment by then anyway, so it made sense. They had also gotten a cat together, a fluffy orange tabby named Oscar, who was, in all honesty, the most adored feline in the neighborhood.
And Y/N was happier. So, so much happier with Jisung around. It was as if his presence held at bay any tendrils of stress that followed her home from work and let in only light. Sure, she was still Jia’s executive assistant and still had a vendetta against Will in Finance, but her stress no longer seeped into every facet of her life. Y/N’s continued love of chocolate likely helped, too.
Still cocooned in the duvet’s warmth, Y/N rolled over onto her back just in time to hear a faint mew from the kitchen. Ah. So she was not, in fact, the only one awake. The cat needed to be fed.
Suppressing a groan, Y/N swung her legs out of bed and winced as her toes hit the cold planks of the wood floor. It was cold enough that a shiver scampered over her skin almost immediately. Cursing softly, Y/N picked her way through the mess of clothes on the floor to close the window that had been left open all night. Despite it being late summer, it was already getting chilly at night, the smell of autumn in the air. A glance out the window told her that it was just before dawn, the sky not yet beginning to color.
Y/N scanned the floor for something to throw on. Jisung’s floor-closet system occasionally had it benefits—cold mornings when she didn’t want to search too hard for something to pull on while she fed the cat and those nights when they couldn’t get out of their clothes fast enough before tumbling into bed together.
An oversized t-shirt caught Y/N’s eye now and she quickly slipped into it before easing the bedroom door open. Jisung shifted in his sleep, his hair flopping over his forehead as he made a pensive little noise. Y/N glanced over her shoulder just to be sure he hadn’t awoken, then slipped into the hall. Reaching the kitchen, she went through the familiar motions of portioning out the cat’s food and refreshing his water. It was better to feed the Oscar before he resorted to meowing loudly just outside their bedroom door.
While the cat licked his way through his food, then washed himself with a methodicalness Y/N could only hope to achieve, she made tea. Waiting for the water to boil made Y/N realize just how cold the kitchen was, and she was about to turn off the stove when the kettle began to sing. She quickly removed it from the heat and filled her mug to steep the herbal tea before making her way back into the bedroom.
Y/N found Jisung sitting up in bed, staring out the window at the sunrise. A smirk danced over her lips as she beheld him, the sheets laying across his hips doing nothing to hide the fact that he was still very much naked. The sun’s first rays seemed to seek him out, turning his skin gloriously golden.
As Y/N set her tea on the bedside table, she felt Jisung’s gaze on her, following her every movement. It was evident from his silence that he still had one toe in dreamland. So, Y/N climbed onto the bed, throwing a leg over Jisung’s so that she ended up in his lap. Really, this was her favorite position with him, straddling his hips.
“Good morning, darling,” Y/N murmured, leaning forward to kiss the tip of his nose.
“’Morning, honey,” Jisung replied, chasing Y/N’s mouth with his for a kiss. Mission accomplished, he asked, “Why are you up so damn early? It’s Saturday.”
“Had to feed Oscar,” Y/N mumbled into his shoulder, nosing at the divot along his collarbone. Jisung rested his hands comfortably on her hips, cradling her to his chest. “Figured I’d make some tea, too, if you want any.”
“I can think of other ways to stay warm, Y/N,” Jisung purred.
“I’m sure you can,” Y/N chuckled. “It’s not like you think of anything else, baby.”
Jisung’s hands found their way to Y/N’s ass, cupping it and pulling her closer to him. The movement made it obvious that there was only a sheet separating her bare skin from his, the friction igniting something deep inside below her navel.
“True,” he admitted, thumbs brushing over Y/N’s skin beneath her—his—shirt, “but can you blame me?”
“No, not when I can’t keep my hands off you either, baby.” Jisung grinned at that. For a moment, Y/N preoccupied herself with kissing along the line of his jaw. When she whispered something in his ear, Jisung nodded vigorously, whining “Please,” as he snuggled down into the pillows a little further.
Y/N smiled indulgently, smoothing her hands over his chest, admiring the love bites she’d left the night before as she’d licked that melted chocolate from his skin, color now blooming over his skin. Despite wanting to add a few more, Y/N refrained and simply kissed each one. She ran her hands over Jisung, soaking up his warmth as she did so, paying particular attention to his pectorals.
Soon, Jisung’s desire was evident and Y/N pressed herself closer to him, earning a muffled, “Shit.” She grinned and Jisung slid his hands into her hair, hauling her to him for a kiss. It was slow and deep, passionate and tender. When Y/N knotted her fingers in his hair, pulling lightly just how he liked it, his little gasps made her want to eat him up.
The blood pounded within Y/N, need rising, and she gripped Jisung’s shoulders to kiss him with such care, such urgency. Jisung understood. He grinned against her mouth and murmured, “Take me, love.”
Y/N settled herself on his thigh, and her clever fingers soon had Jisung moaning so sweetly it nearly took her breath away. It was he who then guided their bodies together, Y/N whispering against his mouth, “That’s it. You’re so good, baby.”
She continued to praise Jisung as they made love, making damn sure he knew just how much she loved him and how good he was making her feel. How lucky she was to have him.
And she truly was. There were times when Y/N couldn’t believe that Han Jisung was the man she was dating. It was incredible. Y/N couldn’t think of anyone else she would rather be with than her Jisung. Sure, call her a fool in love, but she was. Y/N was so deeply in love with Jisung that she sometimes had to take a breath and blink back tears, even at the simplest things.
As Y/N leaned in to kiss him once again, they locked gazes. The sunlight illuminated his soft brown eyes as he stared at her, wonder and worship limning his features. If Y/N had not already been kneeling, she would have been brought to her knees by the trust, the utter devotion in those eyes…
Y/N blinked rapidly. “I love you,” was all she could manage to say, voice coming out a little choked as she continued to move her hips in a steady rhythm.
They knew each other’s bodies like you know a childhood home—all the nooks and crannies, all the secret places in which to hide away, all the places that were safe, all the little bits that were yours… Loved.
They kissed and kissed as they breathed together, moved together, the chill of the room forgotten. Their pleasure was a slow-building thing, finally washing over both of them as the sun broke over the horizon.
Panting, Y/N sat back to admire Jisung beneath her, his skin glowing in the morning light, utterly radiant, as if he were lit from within. And, in a way, she supposed, he was. His hair was still in disarray from sleep and the many times Y/N had combed her fingers through it. The color high on his cheekbones was like the first pink hues of the sunrise that morning.
To Y/N, he was nothing short of divine, all laid bare in golden.
Cradling Jisung’s cheeks with her palms, Y/N kissed him again and again. He caressed her body with light touches, massaging her hips, her back. Y/N felt more than a little like putty under his fingers as they stayed like that for long moments. Content, Y/N laid her head on his shoulder, kissing the strong column of Jisung’s neck. She he could have sworn the low, rumbling hum he voiced was more like a purr than anything else.
Eventually, Y/N’s desire for warmth won out and she rolled off Jisung onto the bed. Once he had cleaned himself up, he pulled the sheets and blankets back over them. Jisung held Y/N fast to his side as she curled against him, a leg thrown over his waist and an arm across his chest so she could play with his hair. Occasionally, Y/N ran a knuckle over his cheek just to feel the little bits of stubble forming there. It made her smile a quiet little smile.
Y/N was just beginning to doze again when the bedroom door creaked open. Jisung poked his head up to see their fluffy ginger cat pad into the room, then leap onto the bed. With practiced ease, Oscar snuggled down on Jisung’s stomach in just the right spot to receive pets from both of his doting parents.
Y/N smiled, thinking that their cat certainly had his priorities straight. She snuggled closer to Jisung as he lazily passed his fingers over her skin in abstract whorls. His fingers in her hair had her melting. Just as much as she’d wanted to savor the taste of that chocolate and Jisung the night before, Y/N wanted to savor this, too—this moment of love and rest. The morning air was still cool, but the bed was warm and comfortable. Soon, Y/N was lulled to sleep, the three of them basking in the warm morning light.
207 notes
·
View notes
All of these are based on my headcanons of the boys, which are based just the slightest bit on how the characters were actually written lollll
Frankie - I just have a soft spot for him. To me, he is a gentle man who wants his woman to feel cared for and satisfied. Frankie would be a good warm up and would get me relaxed and raring to go for the rest of the boys. I see it being more akin to making love than fucking. Soft, sensual, caring.
Joel - I thought of putting him first, but the thought of him getting up in there all mixed up with frankie does things to me, so he gets to go second. I picture frankie being soft touches and whispered compliments and love, whereas I picture joel a little more powerful: some soft dom vibes with a little dirty talk and a little more rough. I think he would make sure I was enjoying it, but his main concern would be doing what he's there to do: put his load in me (he would also have to make sure I cum on his dick though)
Javi Peña- I put him in the middle because I see him as a little more indifferent to where he is in the lineup. I think he would just care about giving me what I want/need. I hc that he's very open sexually so I don't think that he would be particularly turned on or off by the thought of other dudes' cum already in there. I also think javi would have some goooood dirty talk. Just picturing him bent over me, whispering in my ear about how he's going to fuck the other guys' cum so deep into me before he adds his own to the mix 🥵
Ezra - I would just love to hear him wax poetic about all the seed the guys have planted in me and how my fertile womb will be such a hospitable environment for this precious life we're creating, all while he's just railing me.
Marcus Moreno - still surprised by my own brain for this one. I think I'm just into the idea of this clean cut, glasses wearing, dad vibes dude sliding into a hole that's already sloppy from three other guys. I hc that he would be a little unsure, but he's gotta help this damsel in distress, so he steps up to the plate and actually kinda likes it more than he expected to. The idea of him being like "okay I just need to help her out, I'll cum and be done", but then actually being turned on by watching the other guys with me and being lowkey excited when it's finally his turn?!
Dieter - My precious dieter. I have such strong hcs for him. I'm a fat woman and I think that he would be obsessed with how soft and squishy my stomach and thighs are (not in a fetishy way, just in an appreciating comfort way). Also seeing how my body jiggles when he fucks into me? He would be delighted. I think of him as a very tactile/sensory based person. I think he would love feeling himself slide through the other guys loads and knowing that I was already nice and loose for him. He would also def get down on his knees after filling me, using his fingers to keep in the cum that he can, and using his tongue to help clean me up.
Please tell me where you agree and disagree. I LOVE hearing how other people headcanon characters, especially when a lot of the pedro boys don't really have that much source material to base hcs off of!
Also, please don't block me for this 💀
Okay, first of all, I want you to know that I would NEVER block you for this. EVER. I want my blog to be a safe space where people can share their thoughts, fantasies and kinks and not feel shamed about it, so please do not worry about this.
SECONDLY. HERE ARE MY THOUGHTS - BELOW THE CUT BECAUSE IT'S FILTH BUT HERE WE GO.
Frankie fuckin' Morales.... YOU ARE SO RIGHT ABOUT THIS BKA. Frankie is the perfect first man - he's gonna get you all relaxed and warm and pliant, he's gonna make you feel special. He's gonna make you feel loved. LITERALLY THE PERFECT FUCKING MAN TO GO FIRST OKAY.
Joel Miller, son of bitch. Joel, in my mind, has the dirtiest mouth of all the Pedro boys, idk I just know that man wouldn't shut up the whole fucking time praising you - in my mind I can already picture him saying 'so fucking pretty with Frankie's cum in you, gonna fill you up even more pretty girl' - FERAL.
I love this canon about Javi Peña being sexually open because I see this too - I think he knows he's there to do a job, he knows there have been people before him and will be people after him and he's just concerned about making sure you have a good time and I kinda vibe with that? I just fucking love Peña with my life.
I have to admit that I've not seen Prospect - it's literally one of the only things I've not watched Pedro in, but holy shit I kinda love this - just a man getting all poetic about getting me pregnant? HELL YEAH
Marcus - I'm still loving this little left field choice - I reckon this man has HELL of a daddy kink - don't ask me to explain this, but I reckon he'd be obsessed with you talking to him through it, like 'I'm gonna make you a daddy' and he'd be like absolutely wild for it? And him being worked up watching everyone go before him is so Marcus Moreno to me, like at first he'd be so shy but by his time comes around he's already on the edge just from watching you get railed by everyone else? DELICIOUS.
AND DIETER MY BABY HOLY SHIT THE LOVE I FEEL FOR THIS MAN. As a fellow fat woman, I vibe with this so hard BKA. I just know this man would be obsessed with a body like ours and him eating us out after? FOR SURE THIS MAN DOES CUM PLAY LIKE NO OTHER IN MY MIND.
Okay, so now I have to go and take a fucking breather because this has FINISHED ME OFF. Thank you for sharing, for feeling comfortable enough to do it and for really making my day with this!
24 notes
·
View notes
Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love!
<333333333 hi
CLAUDE!! <333 Hi friend! Thank you for coming into my ask box and cleansing it from the insanity of yesterday night.
Okay, this was hard to do, but these are five of my favourites:
The Killing Time (unwillingly mine) - Rated M. My unhinged murder husbands. They are so, so dear to me! Remus being a little psycho is really important, actually.
Remus becomes the most prolific serial killer in modern history because Sirius is a slut and won’t stop getting engaged.
back when we were dinosaurs - Rated E. These fluffy, dino obsessed boys are extremely personal. I also love that it's Canadian! So rare to find in fics. You don't need to know Toronto to enjoy it, but it adds an extra layer if you do!
Remus is the ROM’s newest curator of the paleontological wing. Sirius manages the gift shop and has a dinosaur obsession. They are cute little nerds together and sometimes they have sex in the archives
Only Get (My Rocks) Off - Rated E. What can I say, HOA violations as foreplay is something that can be so personal.
They say that every time a bell rings, an angel gets its wings. Every time Remus has to listen to his neighbour’s fucking drainpipe clink against the side of the house, Remus gets a migraine and a hard-on.
touching me (touching you) - Rated E. I know that I just wrote this, but honestly it's my favourite installment of the Hatefuck series. These boys have become so important to me.
“Right, and what’s with the socks?” Remus holds them in front of him with a frown, like they personally offended him.
“I figured you could branch out. If you insist on wearing socks with your boat shoes, they may as well show some personality, since you clearly don’t have one.”
“Did you have to get me a pair that says Don’t Bully Me I’ll Cum in bright, rainbow lettering?”
“…yes, obviously? Isn’t that your motto?”
In ár gCroíthe go deo - Rated T. I have so many short wee stories, but this one is a fav. This started out as a way to wax poetic about Remus with a red beard, and turned into a meditation on the meaning of home, and what it means to long for a place that lives in your bones. Enter: Irish Remus.
Remus hadn’t been home for a long time, and never with Sirius. He had missed muggle Ireland— nowhere else in the world filled his heart and soul in the same way. Even Sirius with his easy smiles, warm heart and boisterous laughs couldn't quite manage to fill this particular void.
10 notes
·
View notes