#i wrote it when i was half asleep at three am last night | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mysicklove · 6 months

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𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐈𝐍 𝐀 𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐘

DAY 31: MASTURBATION

With: Izuku Midoriya

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: subish! Izuku, fem/afab reader, izuku masturbates to your voicemail and pretends to fuck you, reader calls him baby, and he calls u hun, needy izuku

A/N: masturbation fics are so fun to write for no reason. anyways, my last kinktober fic. crazy. it doesnt feel this way cause i wrote it halfway through lol.

Izuku was left alone for too long. On the verge of three weeks to be exact.

He wasn't left completely alone, of course. He was just overseas, on an important mission. He was separated from you, but that to his love-sick brain, meant he was left alone. His sleep schedule is all messed up from the times he stayed up late at night to wish you goodmorning, or the times where he woke up super early to catch you before you ate dinner.

He missed you, an ungodly amount. When he comes home to his luxury hotel, and flops onto the bed, the only thing he can think about is you. What it would feel like to wraps his arms around you, and melt in your warmth. The way your fingers would run through his hair, and comfort him from all he did that day.

Of course he had those innocent, romantic thoughts most of the time, but somehow one way or another those fantasies began to change. The touches reach lower, your words begin to drip with honey, and your lips seem to be more passionate, desperate even. Until five out of the seven days, he daydreams about fucking you.

He lays against the bed frame, shirtless, and dick pulled out of his boxers. The trip back to the hotel was long, and he's been thinking about doing this for the past hour now. He prepared everything ahead of time, because if he was doing something as pathetic as this, at least do it right.

The lights were dimmed, and his eyelids are drooping, exhausted from the day. He slowly reaches toward the nightstand and grabs a couple of tissues, setting them down next to him. Then with a sigh, he puts his phone up to his ear, and brings his hand to his cock.

He gulps when he hears your voice, wishing desperately that you weren't asleep. Its got to be around 5 am by that time, and of course he wished he was patient enough to wait a couple hours for you to talk to him. But, he was desperate, and the voicemail you left him a couple hours earlier did the job.

“Hey baby,” Your voice broadcast, and immediately he seems to melt. His eyes fall shut and his hands begins to move up and down his half hard cock. He hums in reply, not caring if you cant hear him. “I miss you. Saw a kid walk by me with your merch on, made me smile,” You say, your voice slightly muffled from a task you must be doing.

He huffs a laugh, head falling to the side. “Yeah?” He breathes, thumb rubbing at the tip, and then falling back down to his shaft in a repetitive motion. You continue on about your day, mentioning nothing too important, just how you went grocery shopping and a nice walk after work. “You shouldnt be working. Can take care of you,” Izuku mumbles, eyes peering open just slightly to watch his movements.

His cock was on full display now, the tip a pretty shade of pink, and beginning to leak. You always called it pretty. A strange thing to say about a penis, but he soaked up the praise, taking pride in his cock now.

The thought made his mind wander. Would you praise him for what he was doing now? He wasnt supposed to touch himself without you, but its been three weeks, you have got to understand. Were you touching yourself thinking about him? The thought sends a thrilling shiver down his spine.

Your voice was now a background noise, just listening to the tone, the sound of it, but nothing of what you were saying. Maybe you were cooing at him. Telling him how good he is doing. Or maybe you were calling him a pervert for doing something so gross without you knowing. He lets out a shaky moan, mewling out and picking up the pace of his hand.

“I miss you,” He warbles into the phone, on top of your speech. What were you talking about now? A dog you saw? Nothing important. Why weren't you touching yourself to his voice? He would die for an audio of that. Or even an audio of where you give him directions of how to do touch himself correctly.

No Izuku, slow down. Don't hurt yourself, baby. Your voice clouds his mind, and he nods, peering back to his cock and slowing his hand down. Thats it. Tighten your hand, and focus on the tip. He obeys, moving his hand up to the head, and making small pumps there. “S-Sensitive there,” He groans to the empty hotelroom, shaking his head from side to side when his heartbeat begins to pick up.

“Went into Victoria's Secret today,” You hum, and his eyes widen, attention snapping back to your voicemail. He quickly turns up the volume and pressing the phone closer to his ear. “Bought something you’ll love. Red is your favorite, yeah?”

Lewd images flash through his head of dark red lingerie sets and he nods. “Fuck. Please,” He moans, wishing he was there to pick it out with you. His dick twitches, and a glob of precum leaks out. Green eyes flicker to it, and he uses his thumb to swirl it around the head, flinger glazing over the slit. “Wanna see,” Izuku pants, growing hot.

You seem to have heard his reply and it makes him whine. “You don't get to see till you get home. A nice reward for doing so good all this time you are away,” You purr, making a short kissing noise into the mic and laughing.

His eyebrows furrow at the possibilities and his mind drifts off from your voice again. Suddenly he is there with you, his rough hands trailing up and down your body. The dark lingerie looks perfect against your skin tone, and his mouth waters at the sight. Well, look how needy you are Deku. Do you want to fuck me that bad?

He nods his head frantically, hand unconsciously picking up the pace. “Please. Please, beggin’ you,” he chants under his breath, his back slightly arching off the frame. He dully notices that the voicemail has ended, but doesnt pay attention to it, too immersed in the movie playing in his head.

His mind cuts the scene forward, growing too impatient and desperate as his orgasm begins to approach. You are under him, sending scratch marks down his back while moaning out. His thrusts are frantic, and he tries to pretend that his hand is you. Its not the same, but it will do.

“Am I doing good?” He mumbles, dropping his phone onto the bed and resting the other hand on his thigh. You nod at him, kissing his cheek with redden cheeks, and lazy grin. A view he has seen so many times that he has a perfect mental image of it.

So good, Izuku. You wanna cum inside?

He moans, louder than he should, considering the thin walls, but he doesnt care at the moment. He never gets to cum inside – this was something he was waiting to hear. “Fuck. Pleaseeee,” He whimpers, eyebrows furrowing and hand frantically moving up and down. His cock is lubed up with pre, and its easier for his hand to move now.

He climbs closer and closer to his high and now hes hunched slightly over on himself. Suddenly, he hears his phone ringing, cutting him out of his perfect daydream. Just a couple of seconds, he just needs a couple seconds more of fucking you, and then he can take this call. He whines slightly, and peers over at it, not stopping his movements.

When he sees your name his eyes light up, and he grabs the phone and brings it to his ear immediately. His hands makes a lewd squelching noise, but he too fucked out to care if you hear.

A couple of seconds go by, and he breathes into the mic, waiting. And then he hears a groggy, “Hey baby,” and he cums on the spot. Groaning into the phone without a care as cum spills out on his hands and his whole body shakes.

Another second goes by, as you wait silently on your side, confused on what was happening, but too sleepy to put two and two together. Izuku's chest rises and falls with every breath, and he stares at his cum covered hand, trying not to let out a sound of complaint when he realized he forgot to cum into the tissue.

He blinks a couple times, exhausted but glowing. “Hey hun. Was just thinkin’ bout you,” He hums, grinning at his sticky hand and closing his eyes when he hears your girlish giggle.

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heavenlyhischier · 8 months

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𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐛𝐲 𝐚 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐮𝐭𝐬 - 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐧 𝐡𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐬

word count: 7.6k (i got very carried away im sorry)

summary: after months of feeling like you've lost quinn, he ends up losing you. will the two of you find your back to each other?

warnings: angst, self-destructive tendancies, drinking, cursing, MINORS DNI - 18+ content below the cut, shower sex, fingering, oral (fem recieving), unprotected sex (use protection guys), teeny bit of a praise kink, brief breath play, please let me know if you see any mistakes. i finished this at 2 am and my vision was a little blurry at that point

note: this is part of my follower celebration! i'm so glad i finally wrote about the future captian of the vancouver canucks please guys im begging you.

Two years ago, you had met Quinn Hughes through a mutual friend, and he’s been a part of your life ever since. In the beginning, the two of you took things slow, wanting to truly get to know each other before getting into a relationship. Quinn wanted to make sure that his intense schedule that involved him being gone for long periods of time wasn’t going to overwhelm you, or make you feel alone. You wanted to make sure that, after all you had gone through, Quinn was going to remain a man of his word and make your relationship work despite the many odds that came with his job. And he did, at first.

For the first year and a half that you were with Quinn, he was texting, calling, facetiming as often as he could when he was gone. If he wasn’t doing something that related to his commitment to the hockey team, he was talking to you in some way. He would send you pictures of the places he would visit with short captions of how he wished you were there with him, and you would always smile at them and tell him that you would be, one day. Though, a few months ago, those texts started to become less frequent, and when you did get them, they sounded forced, almost like they had been rehearsed.

For a while, you tried to reason with yourself. Telling yourself that he was just getting busier, and the stress was getting to him. You tried to understand just how demanding and exhausting his job must be, so you brushed off his deteriorating communication. Instead, you tried to hold onto the hope that when he was finally back home, things were going to go back to normal. Quinn was going to walk back through the door to your shared apartment and hold you until you fell asleep. Then, that stopped happening too.

The first time you realized that Quinn was truly pulling away from you was when he didn’t come straight home after a seven day roadie. He hadn’t even told you that he was close to home yet. You only found out because Natalie had posted a snapchat story of JT holding Owen, and you were immediately dialing your boyfriend's phone number. Your heart sank when it only rang three times before cutting to his bland voicemail message.

You remember spending the rest of that night crying into your pillow, thoughts of what you could have done to make him distance himself from you clouding your brain. You knew that hockey players had an abysmal reputation, but you have never lumped Quinn into that group of men. You’ve always thought the world of him, considering yourself lucky to have the luxury of being loved by him. This had you questioning everything you thought you knew about him. When he came home later that night, he gave you a half-assed apology and explanation followed by a string of kisses that had you melting back into him.

Though even that started to dwindle, and eventually it stopped all together. When Quinn was home in Vancouver, he rarely made the effort to spend time with you, and when he did, it was almost like he wasn’t there. His face would always be buried in his phone, or he’d be playing video games with his friends and you’d simply be sitting next to him on the couch. Quinn had stopped trying to plan dates, and honestly, you couldn’t remember the last time you’d gone on one with him. You could barely remember the last time the two of you had shared a kiss that was more than the obligatory chaste peck on the lips before bed.

You tried to reassure yourself and ignore the aching in your chest, but the way he put as much distance as he possibly could between the two of you, the less you were able to do that. Eventually, you’d decided that enough was enough, and if it felt like you weren’t in a relationship, then you weren’t going to be in one. No matter how badly it hurt.

The thought of breaking up with Quinn made you feel like someone was holding your head under water. The panic settling into your chest as you realized that you couldn’t breathe; your lungs burning the longer you went without any air. No matter how hard you tried to break the surface and gasp for air, your head was only shoved deeper and deeper into the water until you realized that the only escape was leaving him. Leaving the man you were still in love with was the only way for you to be able to breathe again.

When he finally came home that night, he didn’t even notice you sitting at the table, his head shoved in his phone as he walked through the door. “Quinn,” Your quiet voice bounced off the walls of your home. His head snapped up, eyes wide with surprise that you were still awake at this hour, but you continued, “We need to talk.”

“Okay,” He drew out, brows knitting together in confusion as he slipped his phone into his pocket, “What’s this about?”

His eyes darted throughout the apartment, and you watched as his shoulders fell when he realized that stuff was missing from all over. Your stuff. With Quinn avoiding your home like it was, or rather you were, the plague, it gave you enough time to gather everything you’d brought over with you, and temporarily move it into a friend's apartment until you could find your own. Despite the multiple breaks you had to take because you kept breaking down, you managed to do it all in one day.

“I think you know what it’s about,” You chewed at your bottom lip, blinking rapidly to keep yourself from crying.

“Baby, I-,” He tried as he reached over the table to grab your hand, but you quickly cut him off. The chair scraped against the floor as you abruptly stood, shoving his outstretched hand away from you.

“Don’t call me that,” You spat, vision blurring from the tears, “You can’t call me that anymore.”

“What are you trying to say,” He asked, his voice breaking, and that made you angry.

How dare he act like he was hurt when all he’s been doing is hurting you? He put you in this position. He pushed you away, made you feel like he didn’t want you anymore. He did this, and he doesn’t get to act like he’s the one that’s hurting.

“I’m saying that we’re done, Quinn. I’m breaking up with you,” You asserted through the salty streams falling down your cheeks. Though the words tasted bitter as they came out, you felt a slight, very very slight, sense of relief wash over you as you said the words out loud.

Your words hung over his head as you fell into an uncomfortable silence, eyes staying trained on him as you waited for a response. He stood at the table with his palms pressed against the wood, head down as he let out a shaky breath followed by a weak question.

“What do you mean ‘Why’,” You scoffed, shooting daggers into the top of his head, “Quinn, you’ve barely said a full sentence to me in the last week. You don’t talk to me when you’re gone anymore. Hell, half the time I don’t even know you guys are back unless someone posts about it. I just- It just feels like you don’t want this anymore, and that’s okay, but what you’ve been doing isn’t.”

“No,” He breathed out, his voice small and broken as he shook his head, “No, it’s not and I’m sorry. I don’t- Fuck, Y/N, I don’t know what to say right now. I lo-“

“Please don’t,” You interrupted, tearing your gaze away from him as you choked on your own cries, “Please stop, Quinn. I can’t do it anymore. I love you so much, but it’s gotten to a point that the person I fell in love with is gone even though he’s right in front of me.”

A part of you did want him to beg you to stay, to beg you to give him another chance because he will change. He will change as long as it means he got to have you, and he couldn’t live without you. But the more logical part of you was holding the spear, and it was telling you that you were doing the best thing for you. That leaving Quinn, while it’s the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do, it was the right decision for you.

“I’ve already got all of my stuff moved out,” Your voice cut through the thick silence, “You’re not home much so it made it pretty easy.”

You couldn’t help but throw the jab in there, but it was only to cover the thinly veiled agony that was truly going on in your heart and bleeding into the rest of your body. You didn’t want Quinn to know that saying goodbye to him was like death by a thousand cuts, and so you masked the pain the only way you knew how. With anger.

“I wish you and your team the best in the rest of the season, I really do. But I think it would be better for both of us if we don’t talk after this.”

Not waiting for his response, you made a slight show to toss the key to what was now his apartment onto the table in front of him, the gentle ding of the metal hitting the wood echoing through the empty room, before walking out of the door. You’d barely made it into the elevator by the time your feelings washed over you an aggressive wave that came seemingly out of nowhere and everywhere all at once. You were thankful that the ride down to the bottom was quick and no one else joined you, and that the main lobby was only occupied by the security guard who’s more than likely seen his fair share of crying women.

That night, you went to your friend's apartment and broke down into a mess of screams, tears, and pain. She held you as you cried, held your hair as you threw up, held your hand through the shower curtain because you didn’t want to be alone. She stood by you in your most desperate time of need, and she made it her own personal goal to maim the hockey player should she ever see him again.

Quinn didn’t text or call you, but you knew that he wasn’t doing the greatest for the first few weeks after your breakup. Petey and Brock had both called to check on you once they had figured out what had their teammate in the state he was in. They asked how you were doing, and not-so-subtly mentioned that Quinn wasn’t any better off than you were. Though, they quickly learned to not mention him unless they wanted to listen to you call them obscene words before ending the call and ignoring them for a few days. You knew their intentions were good, but you didn’t want to hear about how “awful” Quinn was.

If he had acted like he cared about you half as much as his friends were telling you he did, maybe you would have made the effort to ask about him. If he loved you half as much as they said he did, but he didn’t. And he’s made that clear to you. Of course you know you told him that you thought it best if the two of you didn’t talk anymore, but you had secretly hoped he wouldn’t listen. That he would be calling you and texting you, begging you to come back. Telling you how in love he was with you, but it was complete and utter radio silence.

Eventually, you were able to pick yourself back up enough to find your own apartment. Leila had insisted that you staying with her was never going to be a problem, but you knew you couldn’t stay there forever. You needed to try and move on from him, even though you weren’t quite ready to let go of him yet. You needed to try and find yourself again, and you couldn’t do that sleeping in the guest bed of your best friend and her boyfriend's apartment.

Leila’s worried eyes were practically carved into your skull at this point, but you didn’t blame her. She’s had to pick you up, physically and emotionally, more times than she had anticipated when you initially turned up at her door with puffy cheeks and bloodshot eyes. Though she should have realized how deeply hurt you were the fourth time she held you after you had woken up thinking that your breakup was a nightmare, only to realize that it was reality that haunted your dreams.

No matter how hard you tried to forget about Quinn Hughes, the city you lived in was as riddled with memories and reminders of what once was. He was on every street you walked, in every store window you passed by. He was everywhere, and it made you feel like there was a shard of glass piercing your heart, unrelenting and unmoving. You wanted nothing more than to forget about the man who had torn your heart in two, and you were willing to do anything to do that.

The bar air that clung to your body was sticky with alcohol and sweat, but you didn’t seem to mind as you moved your hips to the beat of whatever terrible remix they were playing. The unnamed man behind you had his hands planted firmly on your waist, but you didn’t pay him any mind as you let yourself dance. The alcohol swimming through your veins aiding your ability to forget about all of the hurt you had yet to heal from.

For the last three months, you often found yourself in some sort of bar or club to drink your pain away. It was cliche, but you hadn’t stumbled upon any other outlet that allowed you to forget about the constant ache in your chest. Leila had tried to guide you towards less self-destructive ways of healing, but you didn’t listen to her. This way was guaranteed to ease your heartbreak, at least for the night and that was all you needed.

“I’m Wren,” The man yelled into your ear, an off-putting smirk slapped on his less than desirable features.

Your mouth dropped open, the blood pounding in your ears covering the music entirely. It was too close. His name was too similar, and it made the one thing you were trying to forget flood itself into your head. Images of Quinn and memories of the way his voice sounded pushed their way to the forefront mind, and suddenly you couldn’t breathe.

Without another word, you pushed the man away from you and scrambled towards the exit of the bar. Your vision turned bleary and clouded, from the tears or the alcohol, you weren’t sure. Ignoring the worried calls from strangers you shoved past, you rushed out into the crisp Vancouver air.

You stumbled over into the mostly empty alleyway, clutching at your chest as your back came in contact with the brick wall. You were aware of the many lingering eyes on you, but the feeling that was consuming you made their attention appear miniscule and irrelevant. All you could think about was Quinn and how he never even fought to be with you. How he gave you up so easily.

Leila’s boyfriend had seen you run out of the bar, and immediately darted towards the bathroom so he could grab her. With the help of a few random women, he was able to get her attention much faster, and she was rushing out of the bar and leaving him to close their tab. Leila heard you before she saw you, and that alone made her chest burn for you.

“Honey,” She delicately approached you, her voice calm and collected, “What happened?”

The words were on the tip of your tongue, but nothing was coming out but strangled breaths and mangled cries. Despite having seen you in this position more times than she could count, it broke Leila’s heart all the same. She maneuvered your body so that she could pull you into her lap, ignoring the fact that she was sitting on the ground in a dirty alley. She began rubbing soothing circles on your back and instructed you to try and follow her breathing pattern.

Once you were able to catch your breath, you let out an almost incoherent, “Why didn’t he come back?”

Leila was able to calm you down enough to get you back to your apartment nearly an hour later. She kept insisting that you just come home with her, but you already felt guilty enough for intruding so much on her personal life. You knew she didn’t mind, but you did, so you managed to convince her that you would be okay by yourself, and that you would call her if you needed her. Though, she wasn’t the person you ended up calling.

“You have reached the voicemail box of Quinn Hughes. Please leave a message after the tone.”

“I hate you, Quinn,” You started, your voice already raspy from the moments prior, “I hate you so much for making me believe that you ever loved me back the way that I loved you. I thought we were forever, you know. That’s what you told me. That we would get married and have our own family, but we saw how that turned out. It was never going to be me, was it?

“I just wished you would have had the balls to tell me that you fell out of love with me, if you ever did in the first place, or found someone else or whatever the fuck happened. It would have made it a hell of a lot easier knowing that I, or you, did something to make you not stop loving me. It’s just- The worst fucking part about all of this is, is that I’m still so in love with you that it physically hurts me to be without you, but that doesn’t matter does it?

“Fuck. I don’t even know why I’m doing this. I guess I'm just trying to give myself closure so that I can really move on from you. I don’t know that I’ll ever stop loving you, but I’m going to try.”

Hanging up the phone, you threw it onto your couch and let out a gut wrenching sob that ripped through the stillness of your apartment. You fell to your knees and let everything you had been bottling up for the last three months bleed out of you. The world spun around you, your lungs burning as you gasped for air. Your fingers grasped at anything they could possibly wrap themselves around in an attempt to keep yourself steady.

You felt as if you were back to square one, and you hated that all it took was some man having a name that too closely resembled his. It was stupid, you thought, blatantly pathetic how easily you were thrown back into the fire you had done your best to crawl out of. You had almost healed all of the cuts Quinn’s treatment of you had left in your heart, but now they were gaping open once again.

Minutes passed by, or maybe hours you weren’t sure, and you had fallen into a limp ball on the floor of your living room. You had no energy to move from the spot as silent tears escaped their previous confinement. You stared lifelessly at the ceiling above you, mind too tired to fight off the dangerous thoughts floating about inside your head. It was only when sleep finally graced you that you were able to escape the pain of what-ifs.

The following morning, you were rudely awoken by someone aggressively and relentlessly knocking on your door. The sound ricocheted across the nearly empty walls of your apartment, and worsened the already excruciating pounding in your head. Pushing your tired body off the floor, you let out a quiet groan as nausea rippled from your core.

You passed by a mirror that Leila insisted you hang, and you outwardly cringed at your appearance. Your face swollen from last night's breakdown, and your makeup was smudged all across your face. Needless to say, your unwarranted guest was not going to get a presentable version of you.

Not bothering to check the peephole, you pulled the door open and time froze all around you. Quinn stood there with his hands in his pockets, head covered by the hood of his blue Canucks hoodie. His face was decorated with overgrown facial hair and deep set bags had found places underneath his eyes. Truly, he looked awful, but the sight of him in front of you made the already growing ball of nausea burst.

Quinn watched as your eyes simultaneously widened and hardened with an undetectable emotion, but he’s sure he could guess what it was. When he had woken up that morning, the last thing he’d expected to see was a missed call from you, let alone a voicemail. He’d listened to it a dozen times before calling Petey, asking him what he should do.

After a lecture that closely resembled the one he had already gotten from his teammate months prior that was followed by words of encouragement, he set off to your apartment. He only knew your address because Brock had accidentally let it slip when they passed by it one night. Truthfully, Quinn was expecting you to not answer the door or to slam it shut in his face when you saw him. That he was prepared for, but what he did not prepare himself for was you darting to the bathroom.

He stood in the hallway, conflicting emotions battling with each other as the sound of you retching reached his ears. He wanted to follow after you and comfort you like he’d done many times before, but he also didn’t want to make you even more uncomfortable than you undoubtedly were already. He opted to step inside and wait for you in the living room, preparing himself for whatever you were going to throw at him.

You were heaving into the toilet, panic running through every nerve in your body as you tried to focus on breathing rather than throwing up. The last person you had expected to show up at your door was here now, and you left him standing in the hallway. A million thoughts ran through your mind as you flushed the toilet, pushing yourself up off the floor for the second time in the last fifteen minutes.

Why was Quinn here? How was he here? You never gave him your address. Though a brief reminder that Brock knew where you lived was enough to answer that question for you, but nothing you could come up with answered why. You remember leaving him a voicemail in your drunken meltdown, but you couldn’t wrap your head around just what had gotten him to seek you out.

You stared at yourself in the mirror for far too long, and you wondered if Quinn was still here. You’d heard the door shut, but you couldn’t figure out if the footsteps that followed were inside your apartment or in the hallway. After quickly brushing your teeth and convincing yourself that he had left, you stepped back into the living room and were proven wrong. He had settled into the spot on the couch that he chose every time if he could; closest to the kitchen. His leg was anxiously bouncing up and down, and he was biting at his fingernails.

“What are you doing here,” You called out, nails digging into the palm of your hand as a way to keep yourself grounded.

The sound of your voice had Quinn’s head turning on a swivel before he was standing and taking a few steps towards you, but he stopped when you stepped backwards. He swallowed thickly, knowing that he was already treading through very dangerous waters by showing up at your apartment unannounced, and he didn’t want to do anything to further worsen that.

He instantly registered the tortured look in your eyes because it was the same one he’s been sporting since you left. Quinn knows he’s to blame for the downfall of your relationship. He should have fought harder. He should have fought, period, but he had his own reason for letting you go.

“You called me last night,” He started.

“I was drunk,” You firmly stated, heart beating loudly in your chest, “It didn’t mean anything.” You were lying, and he knew that, too. Quinn could always tell when you were lying.

“It meant something to me,” He rushed out, “Hearing your voice- Hearing you say that you thought I never loved you ripped me to pieces. I know I don’t deserve it, but can you please listen to my explanation? I know it won’t repair the damage I’ve done, but please. I was too scared before, but I’m not now.”

He rasped your name out like it was something sacred, like it held the entire world within its syllables. His eyes were glassy and filled with unshed tears as they bore into your own. He could tell that your heart and brain were at war with each other by the way you kept taking sharp breaths, and your eyes kept flitting away from him.

“I don’t know, Quinn. I’m trying to move on, and hearing you out will only undo all of the work I’ve put into doing that,” You tried, turning away from him but still staying in the living room.

“I know, baby,” The nickname tumbled out before he could stop it, sending a jab to your chest, “I know, but please. I will leave you alone after, if that’s what you really want. I’ll do whatever you want.”

You weighed your options in your head before letting out a hesitant, “Okay. I’ll listen, but if I want you to leave after, you’ll go?”

Your heart had won this battle, but you’re relying on your brain to save it later if need be. The sound of his approaching footsteps made the breath catch in your throat, but the feeling of his hand sliding into your own sent a jolt of electricity through your entire body. Your head snapped to his own, your eyes full of anxiety and familiarity.

He gently pulled you over to the couch, dropping your hand so that you could sit as far away from as you wanted. The air was crawling with nerves from both parties, but the lack of anger radiating off of you brought him some sort of comfort as he gathered his thoughts. Though, in your defense, you could never be angry at Quinn, no matter how badly he hurt you.

“I know that no apology can fix the hurt I’ve caused you, but I am sorry. I am so sorry for pulling away from you instead of talking to you. I never fell out of love with you, ever. Not then, and not now. Do you want to know the best thing that’s ever happened to me? It isn't hockey. It isn’t money. It’s you, and that terrified me. I was so scared that I was going to screw everything up.”

You opened your mouth to interrupt him, but he cast you a stern glare and shook his head before continuing, “I never let that bother me until I overheard you talking to Leila about marriage and children, and I got scared. I started questioning if I was good enough for you. If I was even good for you. I’m gone so much with the team, and I’ve already missed so many of your accomplishments because I was on the road.

“I started thinking about us having kids. How many appointments would I miss? What if I missed the birth? What if I missed the baby’s first steps? I couldn’t imagine putting you through all of that by yourself, so I started pulling away. Was it a good idea? Absolutely not, but it made sense to me. I thought I was going to save you from heartbreak in the future, but all I did was cause it now instead.

“I didn’t call after you left because I thought I did the right thing. I thought I was doing what was best for you, but then I heard your voice this morning and I knew I had to fix it, if you’d let me. I couldn’t let you think that I never loved you, because I do. I love you so much, and I will do anything to prove that to you, should you give me the chance.”

You sat there in silence, digesting the words that had just been said to you as you let out quiet sobs. For nearly the last year, you had believed that Quinn didn’t love you, and now he was saying the exact opposite. He was begging for another chance, and that was what you had wanted, right? It still was, but the damage that was done wasn’t going to be easily fixable. You would have to start back at the beginning, and you’re not sure if Quinn was willing to do that.

“Baby,” He whispered, your silence lighting his skin on fire with nerves, “I don’t know what’s going through your head, but I want you to know that I meant what I said. I will do whatever it takes to fix this mess I created. Anything.”

The gears were turning in your head, trying to conjure any sort of coherent thought to tell him that you wanted this, but you were scared. You’d put so much faith and trust into Quinn, and he tore all of that down out of fear. What if he did that again?

“I want to,” You whispered, “I do, but what if you do it again? I can’t go through it all over, Quinn. I felt like I was going to die without you, and I can’t go through losing you all over again if you get scared.”

You felt his weight lift off the sofa, and before you realized what was going on, he was wedging himself in between your legs in front of you. He cupped both of your cheeks in his hands so you were looking at him, and you swear you blacked out for a second. Just because Quinn had hurt you, doesn’t mean the effect he had on you went away.

“You won’t lose me ever again, okay? My heart belongs to you. My heart beats for you. I promise to love you for the rest of my life, even if you don’t love me for the rest of yours.”

His hands were still on your cheeks as you gulped down the lump in your throat, his pleading eyes darting all across your face. Lucky for you, your heart and your brain had linked together as you let out an almost silent, “Kiss me, please.”

And he did. Quinn’s lips were on yours in an instant, hands dropping down so he could pull you into his chest. The kiss was full of desperation and months of lost time as the two of you clung to each other. He was holding your hips so tightly that you’re fairly certain they were going to bruise, but you didn’t mind. You were pulling him into you just as desperately, afraid that he was somehow going to disappear from right in front of you.

He briefly pulled away so that he could sit on the couch, pulling you into his lap not long after. He quickly reattached his lips to yours, and he kissed you with so much fervor that it had your head spinning. You could feel some of your sadness melting away, being replaced by passion and desire for the man underneath you. Almost as if a switch had flipped within you. You shifted your hips on his lap, and a throaty moan escaped his swollen lips as he slightly threw his head back.

“Be careful with that,” He let out a breathy laugh, “You know what that does to me.”

There was a teasing glint in your eye as you spoke, “I know.”

“Fuck me,” He groaned, subtly moving your hips against him.

“If you insist,” You drew out, leaning down to ghost your lips over his neck.

He threw his head back against the couch and screwed his eyes shut as your warm breath fanned across his neck. Your eyes flicked up to his face, and you couldn’t help but let a mischievous smirk form before dragging your tongue across the expanse of his neck. He let out a string of profanities as you latched your mouth onto the spot you knew would send him spiraling, but you quickly pulled away and hopped off of him.

“I need to take a shower,” You announced, a teasing tone to your voice, “I’m still gross from the bar.”

Quinn’s eyes snapped open, watching as you began to walk away. Only when he heard you ask if you were going to join did he jump off the couch and scramble after you. He shed his clothes as he followed you to the bathroom, leaving a trail of fabric in his wake. By the time he had reached your bathroom, you’d already turned the shower on and rid yourself of your own clothes.

“I do not deserve you,” He mumbled as his eyes raked over your naked body.

He’d already memorized every dip and curve of you, but he always treated it as if he was seeing all of you for the first time. Your body captivated him in all of the best ways, and it left Quinn breathless every time you graced him with it. He considered it a privilege to be able to bear witness to the Goddess of a woman in front of him, and he worshiped it like it was.

Despite all that has happened between the two of you, you still felt comfortable enough to share this part of you with Quinn. Unlike the guys who had seen you naked before, none of them treated it the way he did. He never made you feel insecure, and he always made every other part of you feel just as loved as your body. He admired your character, and even your flaws, all the same.

“You gonna stand there or are you going to join me,” You teased as you stepped into the shower.

The water enveloped you like a welcomed hug, and you let out a sigh of relief as the stickiness from last night was washed away. You were facing towards the shower, eyes closed and head tilted back. You heard the curtain rings slide against the rod before you felt Quinn’s chest pressed against your back. You wiggled against his hardened length, and he took your teasing as a green light.

His fingers trailed up along your hip, across your waist before dancing over your breast. He made a point to slightly lift his touch so he just barely grazed your nipple, and you let out a whine when he did. His hand briefly paused when he reached your collarbone as if he was going to change his mind, but he carefully wrapped his fingers around your neck and leaned down to brush his lips against your ear.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” He whispered before dipping his head down and attaching his lips to your neck.

While one hand tilted your neck to give him better access, his free hand trailed down your stomach and towards your center. The knot in your stomach grew the closer he got, but he was taking his time with you. Relishing in the moment he never thought he would have again.

“Quinn,” You whimpered, “Please.”

“Please what, baby? I need you to use your words for me,” He briefly broke his contact with your neck.

“I need you to touch me, please,” You were begging him, needing him to give you the release that no other man has before.

“Good girl.”

He slid one finger into you, an almost pornagraphic moan echoing off the tiles of your bathroom. You threw your head back against his shoulder, gripping at the slick shower wall for any sort of support before your knees buckled from under you. He carefully moved his digit inside of you, stretching your walls so he could add another.

“Jesus, baby. You’re so tight,” He groaned into your ear.

“‘S because no one’s touched me- Oh fuck,” You cried out as he inserted another finger, “No one’s touched me since the last time you did.”

Quinn knew he shouldn’t be as turned on by that as he was, but he couldn’t help it. Knowing that you didn’t let another man have you the way that he did only made him harder, and he didn’t think that was possible.

You were writhing against him as he pumped his fingers in and out of you, your moans filling his ears like they were his favorite song. He moved his thumb to press against your clit, and it was then that Quinn had to use his own strength to keep you standing. He worked his fingers against you, and he’s gotten you to the finish line enough times to know that you were already just about there, so he didn’t stop.

“Oh my god,” You cried out as his thumb rubbed circles and his fingers curled inside of you, “I’m almost the-Fuck.”

“I know, pretty girl. I know,” He murmured, keeping his pace steady.

Your legs are shaking and your vision becomes spotty as the knot inside you comes undone. He captures your lips with his own as you come all over his fingers, kissing you with the same amount of passion he’d had before everything happened. He was still supporting you with the hand that was previously on your neck, but you slowly regained the strength to support yourself as you came down from your high.

“You okay,” He asked, turning you around so that the water was no longer hitting your front.

“More than okay,” You gave him a sloppy smile, still slightly dazed from your orgasm.

“Good, because that was only the beginning,” He smirked, switching places with you so he could back you into the corner of your shower.

You watched as he turned and shifted the shower head so that it was spraying against the two of you as much. You pulled your brows together in confusion as you questioned him, “What about you?”

“What about me,” He feigned confusion as he slowly fell to his knees.

“You know what,” You quietly spoke, eyes wide in anticipation as his hands gripped your thighs.

“I’m getting all I need, baby. Don’t worry,” He glanced up at you, eyes sparkling with pleasure.

His fingers trailed against your thighs that were wet with a mix of water and your own juices. Goosebumps rose in wake of his touch, sending a shiver throughout your entire body. You kept glancing down at him with your lip pulled between your teeth, your heart still rapidly beating from your orgasm only minutes ago.

Quinn spread your legs with his hands before placing feathered kisses on the inside of your thighs, eliciting a few breathless moans from you. He stopped when he got against your aching core, his breath hitting it as he spared you one more glance.

With a swift movement, he was lifting your leg over his shoulder and then he was diving into you like it was his last meal. His facial hair was tickling your inner thighs, but all it did was add to the sensation flowing through your body. His hands were gripping at your legs to not only keep you steady, but to give him something to hold on to.

He was devouring you in a way that made it seem like he was enjoying it more than you were, but you highly doubted that to be true. His tongue worked against as he led you to yet another orgasm, mouth sucking and swirling in all of the right places. You tugged on his hair as you felt the familiar fire burning in your stomach, your head hitting against the tile wall.

Your second orgasm ripped through your body, rendering you temporarily blind yet again. He carefully placed your leg back beneath you, placing open mouth kisses against your stomach as he stood leaving behind a mixture of his saliva and your cum against your skin. He attacked your lips with his own in a dizzying kiss, his hands cupping and squeezing at your breasts.

“I’ve missed you so much,” He mumbled against your lips as he placed his forehead on yours.

“I missed you too. So much, Quinn,” Your eyes became misty with tears, but you tried to push them back.

“I’m not trying to ruin the moment or anything, but thank you for giving me a second chance. I definitely don’t deserve one, but I will keep my promise and do whatever it takes to win you back.”

You pressed a gentle, chaste kiss to his lips before saying, “Well, you can start by properly fucking me.”

The softness in Quinn’s eyes darkened to something full of desire and lust, but he still managed to keep the look of pure admiration and love. His hands found purchase on your hips, pulling you into his chest and meeting your lips with a hungry kiss. You could feel him pressed against your thigh, and it made the already wet pool between your legs worsen.

“Need you to hold on to me baby. Wanna look at you,” He instructed as he pulled away, gesturing for you to wrap your arms around his neck, “Good girl.”

Quinn rubbed himself between your folds, teasing your entrance and watching your face twist in desire and want. Slowly, he pushed himself inside of you and let out a mangled moan as your walls clenched around him. He paused and let you readjust to his size, doing his best to remain still and not roughly jerk his hips back.

“Move,” You whimpered, bucking your hips forward for any sort of friction, “Please move.”

With your pleading, Quinn was pulling himself nearly all the way out and slamming back in at a pace he knew you both liked. His thrusts were hard and deep, filling you in just the right way to leave you gasping for more. He grabbed one of your legs and hooked it on his hips to allow himself a better angle, and you swear you blacked out for a second. You were grateful for the strength he has from hockey or you’re certain you’d both be on the floor by now.

Your loud moans mixed with his own, surely filling the entirety of your apartment with the sound. A part of you hoped your neighbors couldn't hear, but a bigger part of you didn’t care. You finally had him back, and the both of you were making up for lost time. His hips snapped against your own as he brought his free hand back up to your neck, squeezing at the sides with the pressure he knew wouldn't hurt you.

You were clenching around him, sending him into a fit of blinding, white hot ecstasy. No matter times Quinn had imagined you when he fucked his own hand, it was absolutely nothing compared the real thing. Watching as your eyes screwed shut and his name fell from your lips in desperate whines was a sight he would never get tired of.

“Oh my god, Quinn,” You shakily cried out, your eyes rolling backwards and the top of your head hitting against the shower wall as he thrusted into you, “Jesus, fuck.”

“Such a pretty girl,” He praised as his hand dove between your bodies, his fingers coming to rub at the bundle of nerves, “You look so pretty wrapped around me, you know that? Fuck, you feel so good.”

You were gripping at his back as he split you open, your vision coming in and out as he rubbed at your overstimulated clit and repeatedly slammed into you. Your name was tumbling from his lips in grunts, only tightening the coil in your stomach as his forehead dropped to your shoulder. You could feel the heat swirling inside you as he rammed himself into you, and you knew you weren’t going to last much longer.

“Quinn, I’m going to- I’m gonna,” You stuttered as he worked himself deeper, harder.

“I know, baby. Let go,” He whispered your name like it was holy and just, “Come all over my cock, pretty girl.”

His words sent you flying over the edge, your third orgasm of the night sending you into a fit of unmistakable pleasure. Waves of contractions washed over your body as Quinn fucked you through your orgasm, his own crashing over him not too far after. His thrusts became sloppy and slow as he came inside of you, his head burying itself into the crook of your neck as he let out stifled moans against the skin.

You’re not sure how long you clung to each other with him still inside you, sounds of your heavy breathing replacing the previous moans that were probably still echoing somewhere in your apartment. However, what felt like hours but was probably not even five minutes later, Quinn pulled himself out of you, guiding your still shaking leg back down and keeping your body upright.

“Time to get cleaned up, yeah,” He teased, his thumb and forefinger coming up to grab your chin.

“Good thing we’re already in the shower,” You bantered back, eyelids slowly drooping courteous of the man in front of you.

You lazily pulled Quinn back into your hold, meeting his lips for yet another searing kiss. Yet this time, there was no desperation. There was no hunger. There was only love, and hope. Hope that, despite the damage that has been caused, the two of you will return to the best version of yourselves and let yourselves be happy without worry or fear.

again, please let me know if you see any mistakes. and let me know what you think! xoxox

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes imagine #nhl #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #vancouver canucks #quinn hughes smut

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kookslastbutton · 2 years

Text

don't leave yet ༓ jjk (m)

✑ Summary: "Shh baby," he breathes against your lips. "Focus on us right now."

Jungkook doesn't want you to leave for work so soon. Especially since it's your birthday.

Pairing: boyfriend!jungkook x girlfriend!reader

AU/genre: Fluff, smut, established relationship

Rating: M, 18+

Word Count: 1k+

Warnings: jungkook just being a devoted bf, dom!jungkook, sub!reader, shower sex, birthday sex-ish

Now Playing: Infinity - Jaymes Young

A/N: I wrote this on a whim a few days ago. Hope you enjoy 💜 im always soft for kook 😳

Sunlight peeking through the window blinds, you flutter your eyes open, breathing in the morning air. Your bedroom feels a bit brisk today but the arm currently settled around your waist gives nothing but heat and comfort. Upon glancing over your shoulder, you watch as your boyfriend sleeps soundly next to you. He always has the sweetest face that makes you want to just grab it and kiss it over and over. But you best not wake him up now. Jungkook only got to bed three hours ago. Obviously must have been a busy night for him in that computer room of his. You giggle at the thought.

Turning your head towards the alarm clock you notice the time reads 6:02am. Ugh. You let out a small groan, not wanting to get up. But you have to. The daily grind is calling you, once again. Stacks of unorganized files and emails are waiting for you at the office after all. What a pleasure. Well, better stop lingering and hit the shower, you think.

In one quick motion, you toss the blankets off your body and swing your legs out to the edge of the bed. While shifting to stand up a hand stops you mid-motion. It gasps you by the wrist and pulls you back down on the mattress. You find yourself suddenly face to face with your half-asleep boyfriend. He's managed to put you in a firm straddling position, wide grin on his face. You notice his hair's all ruffled like he he's just rolled around in some hay but it's cute. And those abs, they're on full display right now. Try not to stare too long. How did you manage to get this man? You're keeping him forever.

"Just where are you going without a birthday kiss baby?" His voice is a bit raspy from just waking up but you know what he's insinuating and it's tempting you immensely. You see, Jungkook's idea of a kiss typically starts with his lips and ends with his length burying itself deep within you. But oh yeah, it's your birthday. Another day older. You nearly forgot.

Bringing your hands up to his head, you run your fingers through his soft strands. They were delicate at the touch. Soothing almost. "Hm? I have to get to work Kook. It's still a weekday after all." You bring your hands down and wrap them around his neck. "But we can kiss Iater."

"Why? It's only 6 am, stay with me a little longer. I'll miss you." He nuzzles his nose into the juncture between your shoulder and neck, applying light, feather-like kisses to the area.

"Mm Jungkook, I'll miss you too and this is wonderful but we can't start this now." It's not that you didn't want to. Not at all. But if you stay any longer with him trailing up your skin like this, you were never going to leave this bed. Which sounds absolutely heavenly, but the last time this happened you were three hours late to work. Your boss was not too pleased with you that day.

Sighing, he breaks from your neck to stare deep into your eyes. "We have plenty of time. Let me make you feel good before you go in. Promise it'll be worth it." Oh it was always worth it. That surely was not the issue.

You bite your lip in contemplation. Saying no to Jungkook was like torture. He could convince you to do anything with those doe eyes. But you had to stay firm this time. "I can't baby but we can kiss all you want when I get home. I'll be all yours then."

"But I have something special planned tonight. Have to do this now," he insists, eyebrows slightly furrowed.

"Something for tonight? What is it?"

He shakes his head at you, "It's a surprise. Not saying."

"Aw come on, it's my birthday. I should be allowed to know if I want," you whine, just to see if he'll cave.

"Uh uh, no. Be patient." Leaving you no time to reply, he leans down and captures your lips with own. It's gentle, just the way you like it. You feel his tongue push between your lips within seconds, rolling it around with your own. Your heartbeat quickens and a moan slips out.

"Jungkook—"

"Mm?"

"It's getting late."

"Shh baby," he breathes against your lips. "Focus on us right now."

"But I have to…shower soon."

"Then I'll join you?" He removes himself off your lips, patiently waiting for an answer. You consider it for a brief moment before a small grin slowly spreads across your face. Technically you would be getting ready, right? He smirks in response, satisfied.

Back pressed up against the wall of the shower, a pair of strong arms hold your legs in place. You feel your boyfriend's length pushing in and out of you at a slow, sensual pace and for a while, you both just stare into each other's eyes, without a word. Sex with Jungkook was always exciting but it's times like this you craved the most. Deep, silent passion.

"Ah—Jungkook," you gasp, finally feeling about at your edge.

"Close?"

"Mhm," you nod. "Just a little more."

"Okay sweetheart," he pecks your lips. "Wrap your arms a little tighter." You do as he says, bringing your bodies further together. Once your settled Jungkook thrusts his hips faster, deeper, and sharper. The change in pace has you fighting for your breath.

"Fuck," he groans as he nears his own release. You watch him as he continues to work in you. Everything he's giving is his love, his soul. As hot water rains down from above, you relax your shoulders and fall into a blissful state. Never have you felt so connected with another person than in this moment and in a matter of minutes, you're coming together.

"Happy birthday, baby," he says, bringing you into a kiss.

"I love you completely," you murmur before melting into his mouth. Truly, how did you get this gift of a man.

A/N: I'm so pleased that you'd come read my fics and do hope that you will find some joy in them 💕

Masterlist

#jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts x reader #bts au #fic:dontleaveyet #kookslastbutton

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withacapitalp · 1 year

Text

Countdown Pt 3

Part One Part Two

Tw: Slight suicidal ideation and general grieving

--------------------------------------

They only carry a couple things with them on the run.

Surviving the apocalypse isn’t pretty, and it’s easier to make a quick escape if they’re always traveling light. Essentials only, with a few sentimental items so they don’t completely lose their minds.

Nancy had her journals, Max had her skateboard (even if she couldn’t use it right now), Will brought a pack of colored pencils, and Steve was pretty sure Hopper had somehow saved a half a pack of smokes.

And Steve….Steve has a shoebox.

It’s an old thing, held together with duct tape and decorated with sharpie doodles. Wayne had given it to him right before he left town, along with the necklace that Steve kept around his neck every moment of every day.

He’s never let any of them look in it. They think he’s insane, but they’re not the ones with zeroed out timers.

This shoebox is all he has left of his soulmate.

What’s inside would seem like junk to most people. A handful of rocks of varying size, shapes, and colors. A leather cuff with spikes that Steve had immediately put around his timer wrist to hide it from view. A matchbook from a gay bar in Indianapolis, a Spalding bouncy ball. Some hand-sewn patches with logos he didn’t recognize, three different mini figures, a dozen faded beautiful photographs, and a single mixtape.

Only Robin knew about the mixtape. He had only told her in case they needed a song for him. That mixtape was the only thing in the world that had the song that could save his life.

But the most important thing in that box was the letters.

He read one every night. He had promised himself he wouldn’t read more than one. It was routine. When it was his turn to be on watch and the rest of their family was sound asleep, Steve would open his shoebox, pull out a letter, and read it.

The first one is probably his favorite. It was written in dark red marker on yellow construction paper, the edges ripped and torn with age. The marker bled through the back of the paper where the child who wrote the letter had pressed down too hard, and Steve could imagine the way his fingers must have stained from the ink. Blood red. The same way his fingers were stained when he died.

7/4/1971

TWO SULMAYT,

HI.

I AM EDDIE MUNSON. I AM FIVE YEARS OLD. I LIKE TRUKS. YU SHUD LIKE THEM TO. WE CAN WATCH THE BIG TRUKS!

WHAT IS YUR NAMY?

BIE

LUV EDDIE

P. S. I HAD A NANA FOR BRIKFEST. YUM.

There was a picture of two giant monster trucks under the words, and a tiny thing Steve assumed was a banana under the postscript. Steve keeps that one tucked in his jacket pocket, just in case he ever loses his bag or his precious shoebox.

He keeps the first in his side pocket, and keeps the last one in the breast pocket right above his heart

6/13/1986

Hi Love,

The first one says ‘Two Sulmayt’ but every one after that starts with ‘Hi Love’.

Steve can’t help wondering if Eddie would have eventually called him ‘Love’ if they had gotten more time.

Well, if you’re reading this, then I guess my plan to be the one that lived really didn’t work out. Damn, that sucks. Probably a little bit more for you than for me.

I don't know how you dealt with knowing we only had five days, but I thought it was kinda fucked. Like damn, really? Five? The universe sure has a funny sense of humor, doesn’t it, Love? Or maybe it just hates me. That is also a very real possibility.

Maybe. But if the universe hated Eddie, then it must hate Steve more for making him continue to live. For giving him other people to love, people to care about, people to force him to not give up.

Anyways this is how I dealt with it. If you only get five days to have me, I’m going to make sure you know me. Or know who I was at least. One letter a month for the last 12 years, and a bunch of random one off ones from when I was little. Before I lived with Wayne it was kind of catch as catch can with paper and stuff, and I was also like seven, so how many letters do you really want from a seven year old who still can’t spell ‘Difficulty’?

I know how to now, by the way. Mrs. D, Mrs. I, yada yada. Do you ever wonder why all those women are married? I think that’s stupid. Forced conformity, even in our nursery rhymes.

That joke always made Steve laugh. He’s read this letter so many times it’s starting to come apart at the creases, but it still made him pause and chuckle.

Anyways. This is yours. Eleven letters a year for twelve years is one hundred and thirty two. Adding in the ones from before, it’s probably around a hundred and fifty. It’s not the same as having me around, but if you spread them out, you might get thirteen years or so before you have to start rereading them.

Or read them all in one sitting. Do whatever you want.

Steve had counted. It was one hundred and forty one. He read one new one a night, because every single day they survived seemed like a miracle right now.

He only had seventy three more left.

Not like I can stop you, haha.

That’s probably not as funny to you as I want it to be. Sorry, Love.

It wasn’t funny. Not in the slightest. Steve wanted Eddie here, wanted him to tell him to wait. He wanted Eddie to write him more letters.

Oh, I also included a bunch of stuff I thought was too cool to lose, and a mixtape with songs that I wrote for my band. I thought you might want to get to hear my voice. It’s probably stupid, but you don’t have to listen to them if you don’t want to.

Steve listened to it. They had been forced to scrounge up new batteries for his walkman three times because it kept dying.

Everything in this box is yours, Wayne has strict instructions to give it to you. And, anything of mine Wayne doesn’t want is for you too.

Wow. A whole trust fund of trailer park trash. Some people leave their soulmates huge inheritances. I left you rocks and pictures and a shit ton of letters. Aren’t you lucky, Love?

He was lucky. He had seventy three more letters. Seventy three more reasons to survive another day.

After that…Steve wasn’t sure if he would be lucky anymore.

Now if you’re good at math- which I hope you are, because I’m terrible at it- then you might be saying to yourself ‘Is my soulmate an idiot? Does he not know there’s twelve months in a year?’

No. I’m actually incredibly smart, even though my grades don’t really show it. I rewrite this top of the box letter every year on my birthday, and then I burn the last one. It’s a fun, extremely morbid, tradition.

I’m 20 today, Love. I wonder how old you are a lot. I hope you’re close to my age at least. Maybe you’re like fifty years older than me, and I meet you when you’re on your deathbed, and that’s why we only have five days.

They had only gotten five days because Steve hadn’t just taken Eddie and run. He should have just told Eddie to go as far from Hawkins as possible the second he realized. Fuck the rest of the world, fuck stopping the apocalypse. The best part of Steve was already dead.

Two whole decades, but somehow I’m still in high school. I failed. Again. I wrote a lot about it in my letter last month, so I’m not going to talk about it again. Suffice to say I’m pretty bummed. I mean, c’mon, even Steve Harrington managed to graduate last year, and that guy barely even went to class during senior year.

That part of the letter always made his stomach turn. He hated the reminder of all the wasted time, the little nudge that always told him it was his fault they barely had any time.

If he had only looked up.

Oh, well. This one is it. ‘86 baby! I’d say I want this to be the year I meet you, but I really want to graduate, so maybe hold off for just one more year? Stay wherever you are for just twelve more months, Love, just to be safe. Then I can put a picture of me flipping off my principal in this box for you. I’ll add my diploma in too, just to prove to you I did it.

Eddie wasn’t going to get a diploma.

If you wait a year, I’ll give you twelve more letters. So just wait one more year. By then, I think I’ll know what to say to make this better. I’ll know what to do to fill the gap I know you’re going to have. I’ll have something to say that will fix all this. I say that every year, and I never do, but hey, ‘86.

Nothing anyone said would fix this. Nothing Eddie could write would fill the hole left in Steve’s soul. Nothing.

I’m sorry.

I say that every year too.

Steve didn’t want apologies. He didn’t want letters. He didn’t want a hard to hear voice on a single mixtape.

He wanted Eddie.

Well. Happy birthday to me. One more year without meeting you. Eleven more letters. You better be doing something just as nice for me in case it's you that bites it, or I’m bringing your ass back just to kill you again.

Steve didn’t care if Eddie killed him. Eddie could reappear right now and immediately shoot Steve and he would die happy. He just wanted one more minute. Just a little more time.

…Wait just a little bit longer. I’ll have better words next year.

Can you do that for me, Love?

P.S. You should read the first letter I wrote to you, just to appreciate how eloquent and charming I am in this one.

Eddie called him ‘Love’. Eddie asked him to wait. Eddie wanted to have the right words. He wanted to live long enough to save Steve from his own broken heart.

Steve wishes he had waited.

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edutainer2022 · 6 months

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So I got under the weather - fever, sore throat, snuffles, the works. But I am "busy" (tm) and, therefore, need to be "fine" (tm). So I'm indulgently reposting a little fluffy Tracy-fever piece I wrote out this summer. I may or may not be eyeing another fever-snippet in my notes. Depends on how "fine" (tm) I am. Please, enjoy!

PUPPY BASKET

A puppy basket. Jeff didn't recall who exactly coined the term - his wife or himself. Or maybe his mother. The point was - with three kids so close in age (and then two more down the line) the flues and colds, and stomach bugs tore through the bunch like a wildfire. There was not enough manpower in the household to keep up with sick boys quarantined in different rooms. So it was just easier and more expedient to stash the sniveling and coughing, and sniffling, and generally miserable puppy ball in the master bedroom. Lucy and himself took shifts sitting vigil, giving meds and fluids, kissing burning up brows. If he were planetside, of course. Later, when the boys' mother was gone, it would be, likely, Scott's room and the elder boys taking up watch hours, while he was busy with grief and work. The one time he came home from New York to find all five boys succumbed to a flu, pretty much delirious in his room, little Alan hoarse from crying - even Scott too weak from fever to call Grandma (and too anxious to call 911 lest child services got a wiff) was a memory he didn't dare revisit often.

He could distantly recall that a feverish Scott would be restless, Virgil would be cuddly, John would be clingy. Gordon would peel off any scrap of clothes on him. Someone would invariably end up upside down with feet propped on the pillow.

That morning got him investigating in Scott's room first thing. Gordon and Alan drew a short straw and were off for a supply run early on (a bright and whistling Gordon and a grumpy half-asleep Alan). Virgil was not expected down this side of 10 am, John was just back from orbit the night before. But Scott never made it to see the Tinies (did they even call the boys that anymore? Alan was starting college in a month!) off, have his run and a morning coffee-cum-strategy session with Dad - something that had become a new, cherished routine for them. The parent alarm in him, that never lay quite dormant even through the endless night of the Oort Cloud, was now blaring full force.

Fair enough, Jeff found his eldest room in an uncharacteristic disarray - a blanket kicked off all the way from the foot of the bed down to the floor, last day clothes scattered on the carpeting - something he came to recognize more as the youngest style, not Scott, who had tried to emulate Dad's military crisp order since he was five and learned to make his own bed. Scott was soon found by his father's increasingly concerned gaze in the middle of the bed, tangled sheets and disheveled curls a testament to a night of tossing and turning, breathing shallow and raspy. Jeff's immediate guess was a nightmare - heaven knows he was no stranger to warding off those, plaguing his boy's naturally light sleep. But a fine sheen of sweat, covering Scott's face and neck, belied a different answer altogether. Jeff wasn't surprised, when the brow he reached for to smooth away the soaked fringe, was burning. Scott wasn't asleep per se - eyes squeezed shut against a headache - but he definitely wasn't alert and present either. Jeff wasn't surprised, but he was getting increasingly panicked. His own mother gave him a semi-clean bill of health and was currently in Kansas, helping a friend out. The time difference made the call tricky. Not impossible, of course, there was no inconvenience Grandma wouldn't go through for him or his boys, for which Jeff was eternally greatful, but all the more weary to disturb his getting increasingly fragile Ma more, than necessary. Kayo was visiting with her own father, so that was not an option as well. The problem was, with Grandma away, there was no medic on the island. Unless, of course... Jeff remembered Virgil determined and precise with a medscanner, and later - all business and in-trade jibberish with the medical staff at the rehab center he had to spend first months back on Earth at. Despite budding worry, as Scott keened quietly and shifted under his father's soothing touch, Jeff smiled fondly. Virgil was, arguably, the closest to his Grandpa in looks and demeanor, but it appeared he followed his Grandma's professional leanings. He should try and wake Virgil up. Scott was definitely under the weather.

As if on cue, the door opened and a gigantic burrito walked in. Jeff started. The burrito was, upon a closer inspection, a human, barefoot, wrapped up in a blanket head to toe. The walking burrito was also eliciting grunts and a lung-splitting cough. Ouch. The intruder ignored Jeff completely, sidestepped the bundle of clothes on the floor, and collapsed on the bed, next to Scott, wrapping the latter immediately in a cocoon of limbs and blanket, like a cuddle pillow. Scott is restless, Virgil is cuddly... Jeff was beginning to get a bad, bad feeling about it. A quick dive into the fluffy depths of fabric and hair confirmed his fear - Virgil had a fever too. That left...

"John!" - he had to spring from the edge of the bed with speed and agility that would make his physiotherapist proud in time to catch a swaying ginger son from planting face first on the floor. John appeared soundlessly, a ghostly vision, almost translucent where he would normally be pale. A sneeze almost send them both toppling again, but Jeff managed to maintain balance and helped John walk the short distance to the other side of the bed. There was no question how the ginger was going to spend his spiking fever - the moment he climbed onto the mattress, John attached himself to Scott side like a limpet, the way Jeff had only seen Alan do so far. When sick, Scott was restless, Virgil was cuddly, and John was clingy. Well, the more things changed, the more they stayed the same. Puppy basket is go!

Jeff was halfway through the mental checklist of things he would need to make the logistics of his three eldest sons down for the count work (fluids, medscanner and monitors to keep track of the fevers, ask Brains if the medkits were in the same spots now, call Ma as soon as the time difference would permit, coax, trick and blackmail the boys into cold meds and cough syrup, call Gordon and Alan to stay away for the day and to go fetch Grandma from the farm, make sure Brains was alright and quarantined in his lab and rooms, check himself up, because Jeff needed to be on top of his game for the sick boys - the day and the following night could be tough), when a loud shriek pierced the silence of the room. Scott was frowning and trying the disentangle himself from Virgil's death grip. Jeff reached for his agitated son's shoulder and rubbed a thumb over - in the haze of the fever Scott could get disoriented and start fighting any restraint. Jeff knew the boy would never forgive himself, if he hurt Virgil, even unintentionally. But Scott was not to be easily placated. His face contorted with effort and, likely, a worsened sinus pain, to Jeff's astonishment, the young man grabbed a barely protesting John, lifted him bodily over his own frame, like he was a... well... puppy, and stuffed him into Virgil's arms, that immediately closed the hug around a different brother, as Scott rolled to the side in a sleek stealth maneuver. He would have rolled all the way over the edge of the bed, had Dad's arms not stopped him. That must have computed to the cold addled brain as "safe", since Scott stopped struggling almost immediately and let out a snuffle in a voice Jeff hadn't heard since when the kids' mother was alive. "M'hot", Scott complained without opening his eyes. Jeff reckoned he should probably be more concerned about photosensitivity and the fact any of the boys was yet to notice or acknowledge him. Jeff made an attempt to hoist Scott up against the headrest, but thought better of it as another painful moan escaped. Instead, he sort of rolled the son back to the center of the bed, closer to the pile of other brothers. Scott seemed game for that and shifted to snuggle and spoon against John's back. That elicited a hum and a sneeze from the ginger. Virgil didn't stir. Puppy basket indeed.

Satisfied that Scott was settled for the moment and the other boys seemed to have fallen asleep, Jeff felt confident enough to go looking for the fever vigil supplies and an extra coffee for himself. But he didn't leave before leaning to reach the assorted temples and forheads for the mandatory kiss better and a soft stroke. So sue him, he missed a lot longer than eight years of being their Dad first.

A detour to the infirmary, a chat with Brains, a lot more strained one with Ma and an anxious one with the Tinies later - Jeff was on his way back to Scott's rooms. Gordon and Alan, of course, offered to come back and help with their ailing brothers immediately. But Jeff shuddered at the idea of having all five of the boys sick at once. He was good, but the tenure in space was taking its toll. The youngest boys would be well supervised under Grandma's watchful eye, till it was safe (or absolutely necessary- something Jeff tried not to dwell on) to return to the island.

The sight that greeted him upon return to the bedroom tugged the corners of his lips up despite himself. Seeing his sons sick or hurting in any way brought him no joy, but the picture was just too precious and hilarious at the same time. John had shifted upside down, somehow, so Virgil was now cuddling his brother's feet. John was also curled in an upside down ball, head resting on Scott's stomach. Scott, in an attempt to cool off, cast his long, long limbs every which way, including over Virgil's lap and head, in a comical replication of the Vitruvian Man. As Jeff stepped in, though, the eldest shifted again, to curl himself around John protectively and to draw Virgil into a side hug. Jeff needed to go ahead with the med scanners and to get the boys awake long enough to make sure they got a drink of electrolytes and some saltines, but first he paused to reach for his comm watch and snap a picture of the puppy basket. He would cherish the moment while it lasted. And he could always use it as blackmail backup against these three running themselves to the ground - under the threat of the photo being leaked to the Tinies.

#thunderbirds are go #scott tracy #scott tracy needs a hug #virgil tracy #john tracy #jeff tracy #jeff tracy needs a license update in fathering #thunderbirds 2015 #scott tracy needs his dad #my fic #methinks i have astronomy

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justabigassnerd · 9 months

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hey y’all I just wanted to try something out so I wrote this little Ethan Hunt x daughter!reader fic on the car journey I was on earlier to just practice & explore their dynamic/characterisation.

this was inspired by this tiktok & was furthered by talking to @horseslovers2016 & @maverick-wingman

1k words

Warnings - mentions of kidnappings & death/murder

“Dad, you really need to take a nap.” Ethan looked up from where he was intently staring out the window of the safe house to where you were watching him with folded arms and a raised eyebrow.

“A nap? What am I, three?” Ethan retorts with a light scoff, returning his gaze to the hustle and bustle that was happening outside the window. Sometimes he longed to be like the people outside, ignorant to the IMF and their missions, living their happy lives with no worries.

“You hardly sleep through the night. You’ve been doing nothing but stare out the window since we got her despite the fact you’ve got no orders. You’re almost willing something to happen. You need rest if you want to stay on top form.” You say, crossing to the window and leaning against the wall as you watch him carefully.

“y/n, if I’m asleep and something happens-”

“Dad, you literally made sure I have Benji and Luther on speed dial. Hell, I have Ilsa and half the IMF on my phone if I need to contact someone. I just want you to get some rest. It’s been quiet since we got here we should take advantage of it.” You say softly, your eyes giving away the worry you had for your dad. You knew your dad was on edge, the last mission had taken a lot out of him, a lot of them did and you wished he’d use the time you had now to rest rather than worrying about something else happening. Ethan turns his head to look over at you, softening when he sees the worry in your eyes.

“y/n/n, I’m fine. You don’t need to worry about me. It’s my job to worry about you. Not the other way round.” He says, resting a gentle hand on your shoulder and squeezing it softly.

“These missions are exhausting you more and more dad. You need to rest. Just for an hour or so. I’ll call Benji and he can keep watch with me while you rest.” You say, eyes pleading as you look up at your dad. Ethan lets out a soft exhale through his nose at your insistence. You were too stubborn for your own good. Too much like him.

“I’ll rest. I won’t sleep but I will rest.” Ethan attempts to bargain, watching as you fight the urge to roll your eyes.

“You will sleep because you need it. You’re going to go in your room and get in that bed while I call Benji. If you’re not in there by the time Benji picks up I’m asking him to bring a damn sedative.” You say firmly, folding your arms once more as Ethan lets out a soft chuckle.

“You really are my kid aren’t you?” He says fondly with a gentle shake of the head.

“Absolutely I am. Now get into bed.” You order, making Ethan hold his hands up in mock surrender as he crosses to the door to his room.

“You know I’m the parent here, right?” He says with a laugh as you roll your eyes, pulling your phone out of your pocket and dialling Benji’s number as Ethan disappears into his room. After calling Benji, you put your phone away and cross to your dad’s bedroom door, carefully opening it and pausing when you see Ethan sat up in bed, studying a newspaper for any hints for something that could lead to a mission.

“Dad, I swear you have one job right now and it’s to get some sleep and not think about whatever your next mission could be.” You scold, taking the newspaper from his hand, folding it up and placing it out of his reach.

“Come on, it won’t kill me to be updated on what’s going on.” Ethan argues, stopping himself from saying any more when you gave him the death glare he’s almost certain you inherited from him.

“I know you have nightmares. I know sleep isn’t something that comes easy to you. But is there anything I can do to help?” You say softly, perching yourself on the edge of his bed before your eyes light up with an idea, quickly kicking your shoes off and curling up into your dads side.

“What’s this?” Ethan asks with a chuckle, wrapping his arms around you as you curl up.

“I remember when I was little, I wouldn’t be able to sleep unless I was with you. Maybe I can help you the way you helped me.” You say, eyes slipping closed as you felt Ethan press a kiss to the top of your head. It took you a matter of minutes to find sleep, your slow and soft breaths bringing a smile to Ethan’s face as he felt a sense of calm he hadn’t felt in what seemed like forever wash over him as he allows his tired eyes to close, sleep claiming him almost instantly.

“y/n?” Benji calls softly through the small safe house as he enters, concerned when he receives no response nor seeing any evidence you were in. Benji immediately had every worst case scenario running through his head. If you were missing, Ethan would kill him, revive him to help him find you and then kill him again. Benji crosses to Ethan’s bedroom door, hoping if Ethan’s in, he’ll get some answers. Benji stops in his tracks after carefully opening the door and being greeted with the sight of you curled up in your dad’s arms, both of you fast asleep with the faintest of smiles gracing your faces. With his mind now at rest, Benji carefully closes the door and returns to the small table in the middle of the main room, sitting down at the table and putting his laptop on the table and opening it up to keep himself occupied. As he unlocks his laptop his eyes flick down to his bag and he lets out a soft chuckle.

“Guess I didn’t need the sedative.”

#justabigassnerd #justabigassnerd writes #mission impossible #mission impossible fallout #mission impossible rogue nation #mission impossible dead reckoning #ethan hunt #ethan hunt x reader #ethan hunt x daughter!reader #ethan hunt mission impossible #tom cruise #tom cruise mission impossible #x daughter!reader

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apprenticestanheight · 2 months

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Imagine rimming/pegging Adam for the first time and hes all sarcastic and sassy like convinced he wont really like it even saying youre a perv (like the smart ass he is), then the second you start hes whimpering like a bitch and spreading his legs and begging for more <3

Pegging Adam Stanheight Headcanons + blurb

OH MY GOD ANON thank you for opening the floodgates with this one. It feels like it's been AGES since I last wrote for Adam (i've spent a lot of my time focused on an AU with Lawrence and trying to get a couple ideas for other characters to work on on my off days lol) and writing a fic involving pegging just felt like the right move to make so--here's this??

I also also also am SUPER SORRY for how long this has taken--if you've looked at my blog since I started last week, you'd know I work a really fuckin weird rotating schedule and twelve hour days. This has been marinating in my inbox since before I started working, however, and before then I was just demotivated and so anxious it borderlined upon debilitating. I really hope you enjoy this one and that it makes up for the time you spent waiting for it to come out. Also hope you're okay with headcanons and a little bit of a blurb as the fic format, as it made more sense mentally for me to do it that way.

Fic type - this one is SMUT!! y'all should know what that means by now, too--minors, GO AWAY!! This fic is for those 18+ and if I see you interacting I will not hesitate with my bestie, the block button.

Warnings - pegging, praise, begging, the use of a strap-on, I wanted to get this out today so it's also unedited, and again, MDNI!!

All right, to start, you are the one who finds it interesting first. You spend a solid week wherein all of your horniest thoughts consist of Adam pinned to the bed beneath you, one of your hands holding his chin while he whimpers bc the strap-on you're using is so big and you're moving at a pace that's so slow he almost hates it.

Adam finds it mildly interesting--he's thought about it once, decided he might not like it but also decides to bring it up to you one random night bc you're both high, exhausted, and horny.

So, now you're wondering how it gets brought up, right?

WHHAAAAAAAAAAALEEEEEE, Adam brings it up half asleep, when you're both in the aforementioned state of high and horny and also very exhausted.

"How would you feel about pegging, baby?" and then you're pulling him close bc he's not close enough (his chin is tucked into the crook of your neck and you can smell the mint and cigarettes that he emanates even when he's not smoking. You just want to meld yourself to him bc when you get high, yeah time ceases to be something you believe in but when you're high with Adam you're the clingiest person Jersey ever did see)

and you're saying "yeah, that would be fun, Adam," bc it has consumed your thoughts wholly for a solid two or three weeks by then, but you're wanting to be chill about it.

both of you are completely out to the world like, five minutes thereafter.

It does, however, get brought up the next night. He agrees to it pretty easily, says that the two of you can try it the next time you have sex and if neither of you like it then that's that, and if he doesn't like it, then you respect his boundaries enough to respect that about him.

You buy a strap-on on a compete whim from a sex shop near your apartment on a random wednesday, buy lube that day too bc sex safety and all.

Both of them wind up being used on a friday night, when Adam is stressed bc post-saw vet school has taken it's toll and if he has to study one more minute, he'll lose his mind.

You have dom/sub dynamics in the sexual aspect of your bedroom and both of you are switches, and Adam asks if you have the necessary things to peg him and laughs when your face just lights up at the idea.

You prep him, and the entire time that goes on, Adams like "I'm unsure about how this'll feel, but if it's not my thing, meh. I don't think I'll like it but trying it will have been decent, at least."

AND THEN YOU START

and Adam is still thinking he's probably not gonna enjoy it as much as you will.

"When did you become such a perv, baby?" is said by him in a few different variations when you're prepping + rimming him. It eggs you on and he knows that, wants whatever comes with it.

And then, you actually start pegging him--the strap-on you bought is a fairly large eight inches in length, a fairly thick girth, and blue just because, and seeing him beneath you is probably akin to seeing the handsomest man to ever exist?? maybe??

SO ANYWAY, you start, and Adam goes from thinking he won't really like it to needing you to bottom out like, instantly. He likes how it feels to be split open in that way, doesn't so much as TRY to hold back his moans.

He does try to look away, though--he's loud and proud of it but also somewhat embarrassed bc he's not really one to be submissive in the relationship (you work in marketing and deal with people all day so you come home wanting to be fucked into thoughtlessness more than he)

you, however, don't let him, and when you push into him another inch and a half, he moans lewdly while staring directly at you. it's one of the hottest things you've ever seen.

When you finally bottom out, pressing a kiss to the sweet spot on his neck as one of your hands goes to his cock, Adam is feeling so amazing that he's convinced he'll start seeing stars.

You've heard Adam beg but a few times since you'd started dating, and it's been amazing every single time.

That night, he begs so much that you're sure you could bottle it and use it to get black-out drunk, should you have pleased.

He spreads his legs a bit more to let you have better access and moans when you start from a different but better angle.

He becomes a mess SO QUICKLY TOO IT'S THE FUCKING HOTTEST THING

all in all?? pegging him is one of the best decisions you could've made for your relationship bc both of you love it so much

"Oh my God, Y/N," he's moaning, helplessly, as you thrust quickly into him. "Oh my God. Please, please, please don't stop. Please--fuck."

"I know," you kiss the sweet spot on his neck, quickening the pace of your hand on his dick. "You're taking me so good, Adam. This is one of the best things I've ever seen. You're so hot, beneath me and begging to come, mm?"

Adam is so blissed out that he's almost not thinking, and when he comes he already knows he's gonna be a thoughtless mess from your ministrations. He's cock-drunk, loving the way that your strap-on fills him up and never wanting that to end.

"Fuck," he moans, not even trying to suppress the sound. "So close, Y/N. I'm--ah!"

You laugh, kissing his cheekbone as ropes of his come spurt from his dick and paint his stomach.

"You're so cute when you're cock-drunk like that," you laugh again. "You liked it?"

You're pulling out of him, slowly, as he nods. "Yeah," he says. "I loved it, actually."

You clean up his stomach and clean up yourself, having come from the feeling of the strap-on against your clit and the sound of Adams moans. When you climb into bed with him again, he pulls you close and holds you tightly.

"I love you, Y/N," he says.

"I love you too, Adam," is your, admittedly very exhausted sounding, response. "Next time I peg you, you're riding me while I sit with my back against the headboard. You love that position when I'm the one doing the riding, and I wanna know what the fuss is about."

Adam laughs, kisses your collarbone and gives your ass a cheeky little smack in form of a response.

You fall asleep not soon after, naked and cozy in each others arms.

#adam stanheight #adam stanheight x reader #saw (2004)

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maladaptive-day-dreams · 1 year

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Wet Dream

Eddie x fem!reader, smut 18+, 2.8k words Inspired by these lyrics from Wet Dream by Wet Leg: What makes you think you're good enough / To think about me when you're touching yourself?

CW: mutual masturbation, sub!Eddie and then not so subby Eddie(so technically switch!eddie?), praise, enemies to lovers vibes, hate sex (unprotected p in v, wrap it up kiddos)

here ya go ya filthy animals (me included bc I wrote this and am feelin a lil depraved rn)

Eddie Tags: @eddiemunsonfuxks

You and Eddie Munson have had a rivalry since he started at Hawkins Elementary in 5th grade. Neither of you are sure how it started or why but both of you were always so annoyed with each other whenever you were in the same room with each other—so much so that the Principle was on a first name basis with your parents and Eddie’s Uncle Wayne, and they were on a first name basis with each other.

You won’t deny that Eddie is hot. You even agree to it when your girlfriends all fawn over him and his hair and his voice and his waist and his hands, god his hands. But you only ever admitted to you slight attraction to Eddie in the secrecy of girl’s night—and all your gal pals know not to say a word about it to anyone.

And then, Eddie started dealing drugs once you both started High School and Reefer Rick stopped selling to you and other high schoolers since he had an inside guy now. Taking away your go to dealer gave you a new reason to dislike Eddie. Now your attraction was annoyance and while picturing his lithe body and rough hands had definitely become a part of your ‘self care’ routine, just the thought of him soured your mood.

Your friend Paul was happy to be your little deal mule once you offered to throw in an extra $20 for his ‘services’ though. But then Paul got a lil greedy and only gave you half of your order the last two times you asked him to get you weed from Eddie. You obviously gave him a lil knockabout that might’ve resulted in a black eye and a busted lip, and you having to get your weed yourself now.

So that’s why you’re here. Pounding on Eddie’s trailer door at 11pm on a Friday night after you worked up the guts to get your own weed since you smoked your last mini joint—your attempt at making your last ounce last—yesterday night. But Eddie won’t open the fucking door.

“Eddie!” you berate through the door as you knock again.

No answer.

“Stupid, fucking asshole, he probably won’t open the door because it’s me. What a dick,” you mutter under your breath. “Paul mentioned a key somewhere on the porch for in case Eddie was asleep or in the bathroom or something when he came by. But where the fuck did he say it was?”

You lift up the doormat, nothing. Check in the mailbox by the door, nothing. Raise up one plant, nothing, next plant, nothing. The only thing left is a giant stone that looks way too heavy, but as you go to lift it it comes right up.

“Styrofoam with a wood insert for weight. Clever,” you laugh as you remove the key from its spot under the fake rock.

You knock three times again before giving a warning, “Eddie I’m coming in! You’ve got 20 seconds to put away any porn magazines!”

Putting the key in the handle, you turn it until theres a click and open the door. Stepping inside, you notice that it’s surprisingly clean compared to what you thought Eddie’s place would be like. You walk further inside and drop the key on the table by the door. Shoving your hands in your jean jacket pockets you call out again.

“Eddie? I know you’re here, your van is parked outside.”

You don’t get a response but you do hear noises coming from a room down the hall. Curious, you move towards it. The giant DIO poster on the door obviously means it’s Eddie’s room, but you could also tell because the door was cracked just enough for you to see Eddie face twisted up in concentration, forehead a little slick with sweat.

Realizing what he’s probably doing, you turn around quickly and start to step away and towards the front door but you stop dead in your tracks because Eddie just moaned your name.

“Y/N, fuck me, yes.” His voice was rougher than usual, laced with lust. You squeeze your thighs together, because even though you despise him that was fucking hot as hell to hear. But then you remember that you despise him and instead of walk away you swing open his door and ask a very hard and very surprised Eddie a question.

“What makes you think you’re good enough to think about me when you’re touching yourself?”

Eddie’s eyes are wide as he removes his hands from his hard dick and quickly tries to cover himself with a blanket.

“Fuck! Y/N what the fuck are you doing here?” He asks frantically.

“I came to get weed because I ran out and can’t trust Paul to give me what I pay for anymore.”

“You could’ve fucking knocked!” he yells in annoyance.

“I did! A lot! For like 10 minutes straight! It’s not my fault you were horny and too busy thinking about me to stop touching your cock and come sell me an ounce of weed!” Your chest rises up and down quickly after your outburst. “And again, Eddie. What makes you think you’re good enough to think about me when you’re touching yourself, huh?”

Eddie shrinks beneath your domineering gaze, trying to curl away from you. “I–“

“Ah ah ah,” you tsk, shifting closer to the edge of his bed. “Look at me, and answer my question.”

Eddie’s eyes meet yours and you can tell he’s a little subby baby, which brings a smile to your face.

“I–I’m sorry. I just, I won’t, I–“

“Why are you such a nervous lil boy, Eds? Do you think I’m mad at you?”

Eddie looks at you slightly confused, “you’re not mad?”

“Oh no baby, I’m not mad. I’m just surprised, and a little upset you didn’t ask for permission first.” His eyes go wide as you toe off your shoes and sit in front of him on his bed.

“‘m sorry,” he whimpers, bowing his head. “Can I?”

“Hmm, I don’t know,” you say, running a hand up his bare leg towards the blanket bundled on his lap. “Do you think you deserve to imagine me sucking you off when you rub yourself?”

His leg twitches under your soft touch and you can see his lower stomach muscles tighten at your dirty question.

“Tell me, Eddie baby, do you think of my mouth on your cock or my pussy?”

He groans and bucks his hips into the blanket slightly, muttering a silent apology.

“Answer me.”

“Both,” he gasps as your hand finds its way under the blanket, fingertips brushing his balls.

“Good boy,” you praise and Eddie whines. “I think I’ll let you finish fucking your hand.”

Eddie’s eyes go wide again, big brown eyes searching your face for a lie.

“But,” you pause. “You have to follow my directions, and look at me the whole time. Ok?”

He nods silently and eagerly.

“Words, Eddie. Gimmie your words.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Good. Now take off the blanket and let me see you.”

Eddie’s hand reaches for the blanket covering himself and removes it slowly, dick jumping as he does.

“Fuck, your cock is so pretty Eds,” you say shifting a pillow behind you so you can sit comfortably, legs criss crossed. “You wanna touch yourself?”

“Please.”

“Ok, go ahead and stroke yourself, but keep it slow. Don’t want you cumming too soon.”

He does as you say, his dominant hand coming to grip himself at the base of his dick and slowly bringing it to the tip. He repeats the motion three times, eyes locked on yours the entire time.

“Good, now squeeze at the top this time.”

He does, and lets out the deepest groan you’ve heard from him yet. It grows from the center of his chest and releases as he squeezes his sensitive tip. You shift your hips at the sound, slightly grinding yourself on his bed. His eyes flick to your center as you do so and you decide in that moment to give him some fodder for his imagination. His eyes follow your hands as you reach down to rub yourself over your jean shorts, your strokes matching Eddie’s speed.

“Slow down baby,” you say as you unbutton your shorts and pull the zipper down. He doesn’t follow your directions and instead moves a little faster, so you halt your own movements. “Hey, Eddie, eyes up here.”

His eyes flick up immediately to meet yours. “Good boy. Slow down.” He nods and does as he’s told.

“Eye’s up still okay?” you half say, half ask. Once you’re certain he won’t look away, you resume your movements, placing your feet on the bed and lifting your hips to remove your shorts and panties. Settling back into the pillows with your legs butterflied to make sure Eddie can see you, you nod at him, allowing him to watch your hands as they trail down your clothed stomach to your mound.

You lightly trail your pointer and ring fingers down your lips, and run your middle finger through your slit on the upward stroke, Eddie sighing at the sight and sound of your arousal. You tease and circle your clit a few times before giving him his next instruction.

“Play with your balls while you watch me.”

Eddie’s free hand that was previously strangling the sheets to his side reaches below his dick to play with his heavy sack. The two of you stay like this for a few minutes, watching each other intently. Eddie touching and teasing and squeezing his balls while you circle and pinch your clit, working yourself into a heady haze, the coil in your belly starting to tighten.

“Ok baby. Stroke yourself to my rhythm,” you gasp shifting your fingers from your clit to your entrance. You circle yourself once, twice, before inserting a finger.

“Fuck,” Eddie mutters at the sight of you fingering yourself. His hand resumes it’s place on his throbbing cock. You match each other’s pacing, Eddie fucking his hand as fast as you ride your own.

Both of you are panting as you watch each other, Eddie’s eyes glued to where your fingers disappear into your cunt, and yours glued to the rough fuck of Eddie’s hand on his dick. “I–fuck–I’m close baby. Are you almost there? Are you ready to let go?”

Eddie can’t talk, his hazy desire covers him in want, but his eyes meet yours, his mouth dropped open in a moan. “Let go, Eds.”

He does, covering his stomach in his release as the coil in your stomach snaps and you coat your hand with your own release. Your moans echo through the room, paired with the wet sounds of you finger fucking yourself through your orgasm, Eddie’s eyes still glued to your glistening cunt.

“Fuck,” you say, pulling your fingers from your pussy and wiping them on Eddie’s now very dirty comforter. A sigh falls from your lips as you smile at Eddie.

“I want to be in you so badly,” he admits in his post-nut haze.

“Is that so?” you tease, shifting your legs behind you and getting up on your knees. “Wanna feel my pretty pussy on your cock? Squeezing you so good?”

“I fucking hate you,” he laughs as his dick begins to harden again.

“Mmm but you were such a good boy just a few minutes ago. Doing as your told? Such an obedient baby.”

Eddie’s eyes flick to yours as you crawl closer to him on the bed.

“I wouldn’t mind riding your pretty cock,” you say.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You hover just over his dick, hands braced on his bare chest, and you can feel the heat of it on your pussy as you slowly lower yourself onto him, running your wet cunt over him. He hisses as his tip catches your hole.

“Just fucking ride me already, Y/N. Stop fucking teasing,” he says through gritted teeth.

“What happened to my nice boy that was just begging for permission to think about me while he touched himself?”

“He came. And now he wants to fuck you.”

“Ah what a real gentleman. This is why I don’t like you,” you spit out, rubbing yourself over his cock again to rile him up.

“You don’t have to like me to ride me,” he smirks up at you.

“Yeah but I don’t know if I want to give it to you now. I kind of want to make you beg—oh fuck.”

Eddie didn’t let you finish. He grabbed your hips and slammed up into you, knocking the air from your lungs in a throaty moan.

“Not so hot when you’re not in control huh?” he teases. Smiling up at you as he fucks up into you. You move your hands from his chest to his thighs behind you, and start to bounce on his hard cock.

“Fuck Eddie, you’re so fucking big,” you gasp as his mushroom tip hits your g-spot with every bounce. Eddie’s hands grip your hips tightly, sure to leave a bruise.

“Yeah? Do I feel good?”

“Shut up.”

“Awe but I wanted another compliment,” he laughs as one hand leaves your hip to find your clit. He rubs circles around the engorged bud and lets you ride him at your own pace now.

“I still despise you Munson.”

“Feeling is still mutual, Y/L/N. We’ll just fuck and go back to hating each other. No big deal.”

Your thighs begin to burn and your movements slow. Eddie notices and lifts you up and off of his cock.

“What are you–?”

He flips you on to all fours and kneels behind you, lining himself up and entering you again, slowly this time. You squeeze around him once he’s buried to the hilt, and then he’s pounding into you at a relentless pace. His body engulfs yours as he leans over you, hand pushing your upper back into the bed as he continues to bottom out with every thrust into your wet pussy.

The sounds in the room are animalistic. The squelching from his dick moving in and out of your cunt, your moans muffled in the comforter, Eddie’s hot and heavy breath coming out in puffs on your shoulder. He leans back up, wrapping one hand in your hair to bring you up with him. Untangling his hand from your hair he wraps it around your stomach to keep your back to his chest while his other hand reaches down to give attention to your clit again.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you pant out, coil in your belly tightening again. “I’m so close.”

“Yeah,” he laughs teasingly. “I can tell, your cunt is gripping me so hard right now.”

“Shut it, Munson, and make me cum.”

“Fuck, fine, but god knows I’ll bust as soon as you do so where do you want me?”

“Inside, I’m on the pill and impatient.”

“Shit,” he mutters into your neck. Eddie puts more pressure on your clit as his thrusts become sloppier. “Cum, come on, let go.”

And you do. You both do. As soon as Eddie feels your release cover his cock, his release coats your walls. He ruts up into you a few more times before pulling out of your warm, wet cunt and leaning back on his headboard. “Never took you for a domme-type, Y/N.”

“Never took you for a hard switch. I definitely prefer you as the sweet little obedient sub from earlier though.”

“Not a word of that to anyone, okay. I’m the dom with most hookups, you just caught me in the moment.”

“You really think I’d admit to people that we fucked?” You reach for and grab your panties and shorts before sliding off the bed to slip them on. “I can’t let people know I caved,” you laugh. “So, how much for an ounce?”

Eddie laughs, “not gonna lie, I forgot that’s why you were here.”

“How much for an ounce, Munson,” you sigh slipping your shoes back on.

“Why do you want so much?”

“The fewer times I have to see you outside of school the better.”

Eddie feigns heartbreak, “ouch, Y/N, that hurts.” He pouts as he reaches into his bedside table and pulls out a bag of weed. “I’ll do it for $80. We can call it the Wet Dick Discount.”

“This is another reason why I don’t like you,” you mutter, handing him the money.

“Listen, I got off, you got off, I got money, you got your weed. I think it was a solid interaction.”

“Yeah well, don’t expect it to happen again.”

“Have $160 next time then. Or plan to see me a little more often in your free time.”

…it definitely happened again…a few times…of course the Wet Dick Discount was only ever given to you…

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #sub!eddie munson #switch!eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut fic #eddie munson st4 #stranger things smut #stranger things smut fic #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson smut oneshot #eddie munson smut one shot

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simp999 · 1 year

Text

I'm so proud of you, Pt. 2☆

Ship: Giacomo x GN! Reader

Series: Pokémon

Word count: 4.2k(9.1k total)

A/N: My longest fic yet, I stayed up 'til 4 am for this, I wrote every lyric out myself help

Warnings: swears in song lyrics, skipped some lyrics to shorten it up. You can skip playing the songs, but I'd suggest playing the last one for sure!

Themes: Comfort, fluff, friends to lovers

Taglist: @ultranimallover33 @5centsanhour

Masterlist

Chapter 1

Giacomo woke up to rays of sun shining into his room, getting too bright for him to continue snoozing. He laid on his side, his arms in front of him, almost as if he should have been holding something. …Hey, hold on a sec. He should be holding something, or rather, someone.

‘No, no, no! This can’t be right, it was too real! It couldn’t have just been a dream,... right? I finally had the guts to confess and it was just in a dream?’ His face starts to feel warm, and he begins to feel his eyes sting slightly. Giacomo attempts to smile to himself.

‘Man, I sure am hopeless.’

Giacomo is about to roll back over to fall asleep to waste the rest of the day away, but an odd smell interrupts him. It smells like food. Tasty food. Pancakes? His nose forces his body to sit up and turn around to look at the kitchen area of his dorm out of curiosity. There he spots you, slightly swaying your hips and bopping your head to the sound coming from- are those his headphones? Sneaky.

He can’t help but notice his heart skip a beat, or two. Maybe three if he pays close attention. Giacomo lets out a breath he didn’t notice he was holding in, and silently makes his way over to you with a smile on his face.

He gently puts his arms around your waist and his head in the crease of your shoulder, reassuring him that yes, you’re really here. You, on the other hand, were completely focused on your pancakes and may or may not have gotten spooked by Giacomo. You pull his headphones off of your ears to rest on the counter next to you, clicking the button on them to pause the music. Bluetooth headphones sure are nice.

“Mornin’ sleeping beauty.”

Giacomo begins to sway a little, just like last night.

“Mm, can I help?” His voice is deep and muffled, given that he just woke up and has his head in the crook of your neck.

“Nah, m’ almost done.” You begin to put some carefully cut strawberries on top of your guys’ pancakes. Giacomo glances over at the nearby clock that reads 11:09. ‘No point in going to school now, I guess.’ Not that he minds spending the rest of his day with you, of course.

“How long've you been up?” Man, you could definitely get used to his morning voice. And clinginess.

“Hmm, since around seven or so.” You had to thank your mental alarm clock for that. It can be useful, you’re just about never late for school, but it even happens on days off at times. There were so many mornings where you’d wake up every hour, or even half an hour, in fear of missing school and being a 'bad example'. You finish up the pancakes by sprinkling a tiny bit of icing sugar on top, asking Giacomo to bring the maple syrup to the table so he can decide how much he wants.

“Damn, this is hella good.” He was genuinely surprised at how good the food is. Yes, it did smell amazing, but he’s also seen your sandwich skills. Yeah, not too hot when it comes to those.

You snicker at his phrasing and tell him that it’s one of your favorite breakfasts for the days when you’ve got time to yourself. Which doesn’t happen often, so it’s more of a weekend kinda thing, but this is an exception.

“And Gia?” He looks up at you from his place, his mouth completely stuffed and you can barely hear an ‘mhmm?’ from him. “Thank you. For yesterday, I mean.” You now have his full attention, “All this ‘trying to be a good example’ and being ‘the perfect champion’ isn’t something I can do anymore. It’s not like I’m just gonna quit being champ or anything, but I’ll try to take it easy from now on. Which means I won’t care about what others might think of me anymore, and I’ll be more outgoing and expressive in public. Y’know, let the people think and do whatever they want.”

“Cool.”

You look at him expecting to get more of an answer, but you look over to him only to see him shove even more pancakes in his mouth. Okay sure, that’s cute and all but come on, man.

“Gia…”

“Mhrm?” Once again, very muffled. You’re so close to laughing but you’ve got to keep your composure!

“This means I’d like to hang out more, outside of just our dorm rooms n’ stuff.”

He’s quick to chew up the last bit of food he had in his mouth, (and may have choked on it a bit).

“Oh.”

He looks at you like you’re kidding, even a little. You know that people are going to assume stuff about the two of you, and are probably going to make fun of you for hanging out with a former ‘bad guy’, right? He can’t tell what emotion was written across your face, but he could tell you weren’t joking.

“Wait like, for realsies? I’m not exactly a good example.”

You sigh, it seems this really isn’t getting through his thick skull. You grab his hand.

“Yes, for realsies. I mean it when I say I don’t care what they think anymore. And I’d say you teaching that new student guitar made you a perfect example, sweetheart. Just depends on the subject.”

He flushes a little at the mention of that scene, you remember him teaching that kid? That was forever ago. Right around the time you guys first started meeting up to battle, right? Guess you really meant it. Yet again, his heart can’t seem to slow down. So you guys will be hanging out a lot more, then. That’s fine, that’s completely fine. He’s not nervous about that, not at all. Why would he ever be nervous, huh? Not like you guys never hung out outside of school. In public. With other people around.

It’s normal for your heart to feel like this, right?

Man, you’re good at making him feel weak.

He stands up from his chair, collecting all of the dishes you two just dirtied. After he clears his mind a little, he’s back in reality.

“Um, then, what now?” He fidgets with the sleeve of the hoodie he fell asleep in.

“Well, my team and I make it a point to go outside at least once a day, and it’s quite nice outside, so how about a walk to the park?”

Of course, he’s down to go. He grabs his hat and pokéballs from the corner of his desk and Mabosstiff is already at the door, wagging his tail, ears perked up at the mention of the word 'walk'.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Mabosstiff is enjoying the walk and the warmth of the sun, while Giacomo notices a slight irritated frown on your face. He asks if something’s up, and you know that you said that you wouldn’t be worrying about stuff like this, but there’s somebody sneaking pictures of the two of you from behind. Seems like it might be someone from the journaling club. You’re not annoyed that they’re getting pictures of you and Giacomo and probably going to write about you two, actually, you might like the idea. Not that you'd admit that to Giacomo, though. But cutting in on your personal time with him? What a pain.

As soon as you mutter “Photographer, five O’clock.”, he’s making his way behind you to shield your body from the camera in one swift motion. You eventually notice that the dude left after giving up, but it seems Gia hasn’t. Makes sense, he’s probably not used to this. You bring your hand up to his and lock pinkies, bringing him back up beside you to show that you guys had nothing to worry about now. You begin to swing your arms back and forth absentmindedly.

‘Cute.’

The two of you finally make your way to the park and take a seat while your pokemon start to play. Skeledirge crawls over to Mabosstiff and they start to carefully duke it out. You find it funny how gentle Skeledirge is with its chomp, and the same goes for Mabosstiff when it uses ice fang instead of using crunch or payback.

The playfight reminds Giacomo of a certain dark-type user who’s supposed to come tour in town. He heard that he had another artist he respects from Unova coming to make a special appearance, too. Now, how is he supposed to bring this up casually? You still have a busy schedule, right?

“Hey, so, um-”

Is he asking you on a date? No. Why’s he so nervous about this then? It should just be pure excitement, given that this artist is his favorite.

“If you’re not busy tonight, I heard that there’s a concert going on in Levincia later if you wanna go?”

“Of course, who’s going to play?”

“A dark-type user from Galar, He does lots of rock and alternative music. Heard he just recently retired from being a gym leader, so now he’s got time to tour.”

“Piers?! Man, the one time I didn’t check online to see if he was touring he comes right here. He’s my favorite artist, know just about all of his songs, too. And yeah, Marnie, his younger sibling, took over the gym for him.” It was pretty hard to contain your excitement. With how busy you’ve been lately you haven’t had time to even consider concerts or anything of the like, but you’re taking a day off, so who cares? If you aren’t going to worry about what others think anymore, then why not take it to the max?

“Hey, think I have time to get a haircut and get some new clothes? I’d rather fit in with the crowd more there.”

“For sure, let’s go to the hairdresser’s and get you a new fit. Actually, would you be down for getting your makeup done too?” He’s shocked that you know the artist, and so very glad that you enjoy his music. Better make this a memory worth remembering, so he’ll give it all he has to make this the best concert you’ve ever gone to.

“Depends, what were you thinking?”

“Hmm, black eyeliner and messy black eyeshadow?”

“Bet.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The next few hours were spent shopping for alternative style clothes. You’ve always loved punk and alternative fashion, but you haven’t been able to wear it comfortably while being champion. Layering accessories and wearing messy clothes is so fun, you’ve seriously gotta do this more often. Now that you’ve got your outfit on and your hair done, it’s time for the makeup. Your accent color is red, you wanted to match the hot pink that Piers has but it seems there aren’t lots of pink accessories with the style you were going for. One last look in the bathroom mirror and you walk out to see Giacomo on his swivel chair with all the makeup beside him.

“Damn, you look awesome. Ya’ ready for the makeup?”

You give him a nod and walk over to him, unsure of what to do next. He pats his lap, silently telling you to come sit. Once you’re all settled, he gets to work.

It doesn’t take long, he just has to messily put on some black eyeshadow, whatever thickness eyeliner you chose, and a bit of red under your eye to make it all pop- and match your accent color.

Okay sure, maybe he took a little longer since he couldn’t help but lock eyes a few times. And maybe steal a few glances at your lips. And when you asked if he had black lipstick? Even better, a good excuse for him to keep staring. And is that technically and indirect kiss? Never mind, forget about that. Maybe he took advantage of the situation and kept his hand on your chin and face whenever possible. But whatever, it’s all done now, and you look so “damn badass” right now.

You’re finally allowed to look in the mirror on the desk, and you’re elated with the outcome! The smile on your face says it all. It’s not one of those ‘kind, respectful’ smiles, it’s the one that shows all your teeth, and had you grinning from ear to ear. He’s surprisingly good at makeup, and your eyeliner is really even and sharp. You’re really about to go see your favorite artist with your favorite person. It doesn’t get much better than this, does it? You’re about to stand up to go make any last adjustments, but not before sneaking a quick peck on Giacomo’s cheek to thank him for his efforts. It takes him a minute to remember where he was and what he was doing, maybe even who he was.

“Hey, get back here! I gotta fix your lipstick now, idiot!”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The two of you finally make it to the concert, definitely not the first people there, but you’ve got a good view of the stage from where you are. The hype builds up as the crowd continues to grow, the time of the concert nearing.

“Get ready for a mosh pit with me and my party. Levincia, it’s time to rock!”

You grab Giacomo’s hand in anticipation, excited to finally be able to belt out the lyrics of your favorite songs at full volume.

“I’ve got a shotgun tongue”

“And tick like a timebomb,”

“All black everything.”

“I’ve got a switchblade wit”

“That cuts like a bitch,”

“And I think you two should meet.”

You take a deep breath in, and let it all out. Finally able to enjoy yourself and have fun for the first time in what feels like forever.

“I wanna BREAK FREE from my humanity,”

“I wanna release the animal in me.”

“B-B-B-Break free your curiosity,”

“You’re gonna give me what I need.”

Giacomo has never seen you like this before. He never expected this side of you. You just keep breaking that fake, perfect image of yours, and he’ll admit it’s pretty hot. The bright lights of the stage beaming on your face, and the giant smile written across your face contrasting the darkness of your clothing were seriously something to cherish. He’s only ever seen you this happy a few times. In, and out. Deep breaths. He’s ready for the next verse.

“I’ve got blood on my hands,”

“No guilt on my conscience.”

“The war in your path,”

“The sex in your violence,”

“ALL OF MY FLAWS, I WEAR THEM WITH HONOR!”

“A purple heartbreak for all we’ve suffered.”

“I am the enemy,”

“I am the enemy”

He could have sworn he heard your voice raise just for that one line.

Piers got the crowd to wave their hands, to jump, to yell, to do whatever he wanted the crowd to do and it was awesome.

“Give me liberty or death”

“Charge me more and pay me less,”

“I SAID GIVE ME LIBERTY OR DEATH!”

“Ahh f**k, it, just give me death.”

He chuckled a little at that line, it almost sounded like you made it personal when you sang it. The concert was going so well, he’s so glad you seemed to be enjoying it.

“ALL OF MY FLAWS I WEAR EM’ WITH HONOR!”

“A purple heartbreak for all we’ve suffered!”

“I am the enemy,”

“BRAND NEW NUMB!”

And that was the first song. Giacomo looked over to see you trying to catch your breath, him doing the same. What an experience, there sure isn’t anything that can match this, not even playing it as loud as you can at home can even compare.

The next song immediately had a catchy beat. It was pretty cool to immediately see everyone bounce almost in sync.

“I see a red door and I want it painted black,”

“No colors anymore, I want them to turn black.”

“I see the girls walk by, dressed in their summer clothes,”

“I have to turn my head until my darkness goes.”

“I see a line of cars, and they’re all painted black,”

“With flowers and my love both never to come back.”

The song gets even catchier, and Giacomo notices the way the chains on your belt jump while you bounce to the beat.

“I see people turn their heads and quickly look away.”

“Like a newborn baby, it just happens every day!”

You notice how he’s looking at you every so often and you smile at him, as well as offer a thumbs up to show that you’re doing good. He must be checking up on you, concerts can get overwhelming, after all. But you’re having the time of your life.

“Maybe then I’ll fade away and not have to face the facts,”

“It’s not easy facing up when your whole world is black!”

“No more will my green sea go turn a deeper blue,”

“I could not foresee this thing happening to you!”

“If I look hard enough into the setting sun,”

“My love will laugh with me, before the morning comes.”

“I wanna see it painted, painted, painted black!”

“Black as night, black as coal”

“I wanna see the sun blotted out from the sky.”

“I wanna see it painted, painted, Painted black!”

Lots of good tunes so far, you definitely remember blaring these songs from your headphones lots of times in the past.

The next song was very sudden, but as soon as you heard the first lyrics, you knew it was about to get hella loud.

“Suffocate, everything,”

“They complicate, everything,”

“They steal your fate, every day,”

“But you can’t believe it!”

“Take yourself far away from nothingness,”

“A million miles from emptiness.”

You loved to see the way Piers rocked out to all of his music, it was definitely his passion. He’s a lot more enthusiastic when he plays live than when he battles.

“Remember the days, of the innocence,”

“Before it came in waves?”

“Remember the trust? It was blown away,”

“Into oblivion.”

“Remember love,”

You glance over at Giacomo for a quick second, seeing him scream the lyrics at the top of his lungs. He sure does have a nice voice, you’d love to hear him make at least one cover. But the right song hasn’t come on yet.

“Remember hate, remember everything,”

“They said just to break you again.”

“Remember all, all of your enemies,”

“Forever and ever, they,”

“Suffocate everything, they”

“Complicate everything, they”

“Steal your fate, every day”

“But you can’t believe it!”

A taller person ends up in front of the two of you, and Giacomo can tell you’re struggling to see Piers. He motions for you to get on his back after bending down for you. You can’t hear him over the music, but can tell what he’s getting at. Now that you can both see, it’s back to enjoying the music.

“Forget the decay, and the endlessness,”

“Of all of our mistakes,”

“Forget all the blame, and the apathy,”

“And throw it all away.”

“FORGET THE PAIN,”

“FORGET THE HATE,”

“FORGET ALL YOUR ENEMIES,”

“THEY WILL NEVER BREAK YOU AGAIN!”

He could feel how powerful your voice was thanks to how close you were to him, he could feel your belly and chest move every time you took a deep breath.

“LEAVE IT ALL BEHIND YOU!”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It had now been nearly an hour since Piers had shown up on stage.

“You all better enjoy this, I don’t do encores, and we have a guest artist joining us for our last song.”

The crowd went crazy when a short girl with white hair walked onto the stage.

“Yeah! Ya’ll better get hyped for this last one!” Roxie's voice came over the speakers.

You looked at Giacomo in disbelief, he never mentioned having Roxie up on stage tonight! He just shrugged and smiled at you.

Your heads immediately turned to the stage as soon as you heard the first note. Another note along with the first lyric, and you were singing the hardest you have all night, hoping and praying to Arceus that Giacomo knew the lyrics. There was a good chance you’d lose your voice after this one, you’d definitely need to drink lots of water tomorrow.

“You’ll never take us alive!"

He looked over at you and started singing his part, almost like he was waiting for this moment the whole time. Not like he checked the setlist beforehand, or anything.

“We swore that death with do us part,”

“They’ll call our crimes a work of art!”

You started bouncing in place to the beat, so excited to be right here, right now, with him.

“You’ll never take us alive!”

“We’ll live like spoiled royalty, LOVERS AND PARTNERS,”

“PARTNERS IN CRIME!”

“Partners in crime~”

You grab his hand again and squeeze it tight, grounding yourself. This is one of your favorite songs, you had no idea he even knew this song existed.

“This, the tale of, reckless love, living a life of crime on the run,”

“I brush to a gun, to paint the states green, and red.”

“Everybody freeze!”

“Nobody move!”

“Put the money in the bag,”

“Or we will shoot!”

“Empty out the vault, and me and my doll will be on our way,”

“Our paper faces flood the streets,”

“And if the heat comes close enough, then we’ll play with fire, ‘cause!”

“You’ll never take us alive!”

“We swore that death will do us part,"

“They’ll call our crimes a work of art”

“You’ll never take us alive,”

“We’ll live like spoiled royalty, lover and partners,”

“Partners in crime!”

“Partners in crime~”

“Here we find our omnipotent outlaws, fall behind the grind tonight.”

“Left unaware that the lone store owner,”

“Won’t go down without a fight!”

“Where we gonna go?!”

“He’s got us pinned!”

“Baby I’m a little scared,”

“Now don’t you quit!”

“He sounded the alarm, I hear the sirens closing in!”

“Our paper faces flood the streets,”

“And if the heat come close enough, then we’re burning this place to the ground, ‘cause!”

“You’ll never take us alive!”

“We swore that death will do us part, they’ll call our crimes a work of art.”

“You’ll never take us alive,”

“We’ll live like spoiled royalty, lovers and partners,”

“Partners in crime!”

“Partners in crime~”

(The Placerville sheriff’s police department, come out with your hands up, we have the place surrounded. Put your weapons down, PUT YOUR WEAPONS DOWN! Ready men, aim, FIRE!)

The thrill and excitement coursing through yours’ and Giacomo’s veins were the only thing keeping you two from getting flustered over the lyrics. This is like a dream come true. Was this basically you two shouting your love for each other? Yeah, and you both were none the wiser.

“The skies are black, with lead-filled rain,”

“A morbid painting on display!”

“This is the night the young love died,”

“Buried at each other’s side.”

“You’ll never take us alive,”

“We swore that death will do us part,”

“So now we haunt you in the dark,”

“You never took us alive,”

“We live as ghosts among these streets,”

“Lovers and partners, partners in crime!”

"Partners in criiiiiime~"

“PARTNERS IN CRIME!”

With both of you completely out of breath, no longer able to hear anything but the crowd cheering, you jump tackle Giacomo for a hug. He spins you around and you can barely tell what he’s saying, only thanks to the way you saw his lips move could you tell what he was saying.

“That was epic!”

He knew that you couldn’t hear him, so he figured he’d chat with you more after the concert.

People slowly started getting out of the way, you and Giacomo were pushing through the crowd, attempting to get some merch. You ended up getting ahead of the crowd, and you bought shirts, keychains, bracelets, and pins for yourself and him, and got him a CD of Piers’ latest album. You even managed to get a quick picture with Piers and Roxie after and got him to sign the CD.

Only after all the commotion was over and you guys were back at his dorm, you on his bed and him on his chair, did he start to think more clearly.

“Hey, you spent a ton today, didn’t you? You shouldn’t have bought me all of that stuff at the concert, at least let me pay you back. I could have bought my own stuff you know.”

You bring your head up from where it was resting.

“You can’t even buy half a potion, shut up.” You snicker a bit at that, always taking any opportunity to make fun of Gia. “But seriously, you’re like, the best. Ever. I should be thanking you.”

You look at him and your smile turns sincere.

“You deserve the best, love.”

His cheeks go pink at the nickname, but he’s not too flustered for a comeback.

“You are the best, sweetheart.”

Songs used in order:

Brand new numb - Motionless in white

Paint it, black - The Rolling Stones

Leave It All behind - Cult To Follow

Partners in Crime - Set it Off (my favorite band!!🔷️⏳)

5h 20m

Jan.25-26.23

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creepercraftguy · 1 year

Photo

NAEGIRI WEEK Day 1 - Overtime.

Kyoko was expecting to return home to a quiet house on this cold winters night, not expecting the surprise that would greet her in the doorway...

@naegiriweek

Full Story below the cut. You can also find the story on my WattPad - https://www.wattpad.com/1287541962-naegiri-week-2022-creepercraftguy-day-1-overtime

[3:42 am]

That was the time that read on Kyoko's watch, which she stared down at, dourly.

It was cold that winter night. So cold that it was snowing. And even for someone like the Ultimate Detective, who always retained laser-like concentration, be she on the job or not, it was challenging for her to resist the urge to fall asleep.

As you probably may have guessed, the reason why Kyoko was walking through the snowy streets so late in the evening was that she has finally tied the knot on a big case she'd been working on for the majority of that winter month, involving a secret terrorist plot. She and her team endeavored not to leave a single stone unturned and to not let a single detail go missing from their report.

Kyoko was lucky to work with a group of individuals who took their jobs so seriously. One of them was a boy who had graduated from the academy with the same Ultimate Talent as her; a boy named Saihara. What wasn't so lucky is the team may be too diligent because they burned the midnight oil down to the last drop. So much so that the date changed and she didn't even notice until she took a look at her watch.

If Kyoko had been doing this for herself and her family, she wouldn't have minded so much, but given that she had been living with Makoto, it complicated things.

Abrasive as she was, Kyoko Kirigiri always valued time with him. Shortly after graduating from Hope's Peak as classmates, she and fellow Ultimate Student, Makoto Naegi, had started dating, and now they lived together. Kyoko kept her job as a detective even after she graduated, but being the Ultimate Lucky Student, Makoto's options weren't particularly widespread. However, he had committed to getting a job as a teacher at the academy they had learned together. Kyoko had even heard that the current headmaster; her father, Jin Kirigiri; was considering allowing Makoto to become headmaster in his place when he retired.

Makoto's job typically didn't require him to work this late though, so Kyoko half expected that he would already be asleep by the time she got back. It was a shame since it was the end of the week, and she had very much liked to spend some quality evening time together with him.

*Because of the scale of this investigation, the department did warn us that we may be putting in extra hours...* the detective deliberated, *but that doesn't make it any less tiring...*

She yawned as she got to the end of this thought. Continuing down the street, she approached her household but stopped in place as she noticed the lights were on.

*That's rare...Could Makoto have fallen asleep and forgotten to have turned the lights off?* she, as she often did, started to think of several possibilities in her head at once, *no, that seems unlikely...It was he who brought up the idea of saving energy when we wrote the contract after moving in together...*

However, Kyoko didn't need to think about it for too long. As she approached the door, she heard the lock click open from the inside, and the door creaked open. The bright, warm light poured out at her from the doorway, and Makoto stepped through. He smiled at her, his smile warm as the light from inside the house, but his eyes looked tired, and his usual liveliness and optimistic glow were near absent.

"Welcome home, Kyoko," he simpered, "good job today at work."

There was a long pause where both of them just stared at each other, Makoto in bliss and Kyoko in surprise. Kyoko eventually became the one to break the silence.

"So...you were awake?" she inquired.

"Yep," Makoto replied cheerily.

"You do know it's gone three in the morning, right?"

"I know."

"Are you ok? You weren't worried about me, were you? I know I should have called..."

"No, no, it's ok! You were busy, I understand. This isn't because of you, I just...couldn't get to sleep..."

"Evidently...You have bags under your eyes," Kyoko sighed, "I know it's the weekend, but it's not good for your health to stay up like-"

Kyoko didn't finish her sentence. She reached out to cup Makoto's cheek in her hand, and as soon as her fingers felt his skin, she frowned.

"Why are you so cold?" she asked sternly.

"H-Huh? Oh, uh...don't worry about it," he scratched his head, "come in. I saved dinner for you, and I can run you a bath if you-OW OW OW!"

"Answer my question..." Kyoko growled, pinching his cheek, tighter than she meant to, "and be honest about it."

"Alright, alright, please, just let me go!" Makoto cried, rubbing his sore cheek after Kyoko released him, "it's because...I kept coming in and out the house...and I wasn't exactly dressed for the occasion..."

Makoto was wearing some very casual clothes. Not indecent, but not warm enough for the frigid winter weather.

"Are you an idiot?" Kyoko asked, "you could have caught a cold by doing that!"

"I know, I'm sorry..." Makoto pouted, "I just...missed you...and I wanted to see you as soon as you got back. I kind of got impatient and...well, I just sort of wandered around on my own...I'm sorry..."

Despite a delayed reaction, Kyoko stepped forward, and slumped her bashful head onto Makoto's shoulder, burying her face into him. She also instinctively reached out and wrapped her arms around his body.

"A-Ah! Kyoko! Um...I'm glad you're back, but can you please let go?" Makoto pleaded.

Kyoko didn't respond.

"Oh well..." Makoto chuckled, "if you're that tired...then I guess it's fine if you use me as a pillow. Just...maybe come inside so neither of us catches a cold?"

*What is it about this man that renders me so incapable when all others fail?* Kyoko didn't move her face, even as Makoto pulled her inside, afraid he might see just how flustered she was. *I can't explain it but...I need to marry him soon...*

#naegiri #naegiri week #naegiri week 2022 #kyoko kirigiri #makoto naegi #danganronpa #danganronpa 1 #dr1 #danganronpa trigger happy havoc

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lovefromskyee · 4 months

Text

6/1/24

still not quite free enough to write daily entries (I have a physics theory paper on Monday), BUT I am free enough to give a bullet point recap of everything interesting that happened during this last exam week

I fell asleep during my business studies paper. Thankfully, it was after I finished writing it and still had a half-hour left, but my four hours of sleep that night really did catch up to me. The invigilator had to quite literally shake me awake.

Almost cried in front of said invigilator on the same day during the next paper (biology theory) that day, when my biology teacher (who is a LIAR) said that her paper would be easy but it SO wasn't.

Same biology paper, they printed one less copy. My bio teacher saw the two copies in her hand, the three students without a paper (with me sitting right in front of her, by the way) kept walking past me, gave the papers to the other students, and then had me wait twenty minutes while she went and printed another paper. This has got to be some personal vendetta.

Wrote such an amazing descriptive for my English paper today, and finished half an hour early which is a monumental feat. Got another half-hour of sleep.

That's pretty much it actually. It's my brother's birthday next week and I might log back on to update y'all about that, but the chances are low.

Love from Skye <3

#exam season

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booksforevermore13 · 2 years

Note

Ty for answering my last question (oneshot request)

i was just craving some hinny fluff oneshots (to be specific, the first time they said ily)

if you have an existing one shot, do you mind sharing it? If you dont, and if you are free, and if its possible, do u mind creating one? I love ur writing!!

if you aren’t able to, dw, i shall enjoy ur other oneshots :)

tysm! Have a great day/night/afternoon

A/N: Hello! First of all, thank you so much for reading my work! You have no idea how happy your words made me :) Secondly, I just realized not more than 24 hours ago that I'd literally never written something around Hinny's first i love yous'. And because that suddenly made me so excited at the moment, here's a small one-shot I wrote.

Summary: The first time they say those three words, Harry realizes that it just might be for forever.

...

AND THIS JUST MIGHT BE FOREVER

And I can still see it all (In my mind)

All of you, all of me (Intertwined)

“If you steal the blankets, I am going to put my cold feet on you.”

Harry smiled, then with one hand, brought over Ginny’s legs and laid them over his own.

“Well I’m not going to share, so you better get in closer,” he smirked, his eyes glinting with mischief as Ginny looked over at him, an equally devious smirk on her face.

“That’s a half-hearted attempt at flirting if I ever saw one.”

“Are you complaining?”

“I am most certainly not,” she said, burrowing her head into his shirt, and Harry still couldn’t help but feel the tingles running through his body, threatening to overcome him, wherever they made contact.

He stroked her hair, kissing her forehead gently, inhaling the flowery scent that he could get drunk in anytime of the day. “If you keep doing that, then I’ll fall asleep,” Ginny mumbled, and Harry smiled to himself, loving the way her body fit so comfortably with his. Like in that moment, they were the only two pieces needed, the only two that mattered.

“Sleep then. You need it.”

Ginny looked up at him, and then gently kissed him, soft buttery kisses that held the power to melt him in one moment.

For a brief second, he contemplated saying them. Those words that had been fighting to get out since the day she had returned from Hogwarts. Since the day he’d seen her at the train station, her red hair flowing back with the wind, the sunrays reflecting on them and turning them into a few brilliant shades of red; when he’d heaved a sigh of relief to see her safe and thought in that second that that would be for forever.

Ginny kissed him again, bringing him out of his reverie and he looked into her eyes, those warm chocolate brown eyes that had comforted him for since as long as he could remember.

“I think I’ll just fall asleep now,” she whispered, and Harry breathed out, placing his head over hers, feeling the way her breath slowed down until she was asleep.

It wasn’t long before he did too.

…

...

There was chaos in the morning, with Ginny on her way to tryouts and Harry on his way to a hearing. If it was up to Harry, he would have gladly avoided going to his hearing so that he could go be with Ginny.

“You sure you don’t want me to drop you?” he asked her when they were leaving out the door. It had become a tradition these last couple of weeks, them leaving together. No matter how late either of them were, coming back home, they made sure they left together. If Ginny was late, Harry would go and wait outside the stadium for her. If Harry was on a mission, then he’d make sure she knew about it before he left.

Made sure that both of them knew that the other was safe.

“Nope,” Ginny mumbled out, her mouth stuffed with the waffles he had made in the morning.

“Gin,” he urged, holding her by her shoulders. “Say the word, and I’ll go with you there. Damn with the hearing. Ron will manage that by himself.”

Ginny gulped down her waffles, before soundlessly opening the door and motioning him to get out.

“You do your work,” she said. “I think I can manage my tryouts on my own.”

“And I have absolutely no doubt about it,” Harry smiled. “Even with the way you practised, I daresay Gwenog’s already duly impressed.”

“As she should be,” Ginny quipped. “Now go. Don’t bother me.”

“Oh, I’m bothering you, is it?”

Ginny smiled, before yanking on his tie to bring him closer, capturing his lips in a kiss. Before he could bring her closer to him though, Ginny pulled away with a smirk.

“Go,” she urged, and Harry smiled, waving to her as he apparated into the endless expanse.

…

...

It was when he was entering the room when Harry realised it.

That at that particular moment, the hearing wasn’t the place he was supposed to be.

Merlin’s hell, he cursed, as he stepped back from the flooplace.

“What’s gotten into you?” Ron asked him as Harry wordlessly tossed him the shrunken folder he had in his pocket.

“I need to be at the tryouts.”

If he hurried, he could just make it before it ended. Stuffing his wand into his pocket, Harry walked faster, aware of the countless eyes watching him march out into the hallway. Paying no heed to them, he started running.

There was someone waiting for him, and he certainly wasn’t going to let her wait any longer.

Slamming into the apparating station, Harry cut in front of another man wearing green and purple robes, shooting him an apologetic smile before vanishing into the chamber.

The next time he opened his eyes, he was in the telephone booth in front of the stadium.

Harry broke into a run, sprinting over to the entrance, wondering whether the yells coming from inside the stadium indicated anything good, whether Ginny’s tryouts were already finished and done.

“Sir, you can’t go in unless you have an ID,” the guard at the door said as he reached there. He was a muggle, and completely unaware of anything that happened inside the building he was guarding.

“I’m, uh, I’m Ginny Weasley’s boyfriend,” Harry said, already feeling that sense of giddiness that overcame him when he realised that he was actually her boyfriend. Her boyfriend.

“Yeah, right,” the man sharply said, blocking the entrance in front of him. “Unless you have an ID, you can’t go in there.”

“Look, I’m already late - “

“I don’t care.”

Before Harry could slam him against the wall, a tall woman stepped out of the door, looked at the two of them, and then glared at the man. “Let him go, Charles,” she said, annoyance tinging her voice.

The man looked at him, and then back at her, as if wanting to protest, but the woman merely nodded at Harry and he took his chance to rush into the building.

There, there she was. On the opposite side of the glass door.

She was smiling, her broom resting comfortably on her shoulder, and even at this distance, Harry could sense that familiar victorious smirk on her face that had once irked him to no end. But he had always loved it.

When the glass doors opened, he watched as her eyes lazily flitted across the stadium, before resting on him. He watched as her eyes widened and the broom slipped out of her hands and landed gently on the grass below. He watched as she broke into a run, and he stepped forward, laughing as she launched herself at him.

“What the hell are you doing here?” she laughed, wrapping her hands around his neck, and Harry smiled, recognizing the tone of relief under all the surprise.

“I missed you too much to not see you make the team.”

Ginny met his gaze, and laughed, throwing her head back. “I made it,” she said, sounding breathless. “I really made it.”

And then once again, it was as if Harry was pulled back into that reverie. But this time, he knew that he was going to say it. He was going to let her know how much she really meant to him.

“Gin,” he said, a smile appearing on his face as she jumped down from his arms. With one hand he brushed a few stray hairs away from her face, lifting her chin up with the other, so that he was looking into her eyes. Eyes that had comforted him for as long as he could remember.

“I,” he breathed out. “I- you..” Again, it was the nervousness that overcame him, because it was the first time he’d be telling her he loved her, after thinking about it for weeks and weeks, and knowing it for months more.

Harry wanted to spend the rest of his life with this woman.

Ginny chuckled, then pushed his glasses further up his nose. “What about me?” she said with a huge smile on her face, her hands resting lazily around his neck.

“It’s not about you,” Harry stuttered, then cursed. “It is about you, Merlin’s hell. It’s-I-I just can’t get over how a few years ago, all I could think about was kissing you, and now -”

“You are kissing me?” Ginny quipped, looking at him with one eyebrow raised.

Harry sighed, and then blurted out, his hands damp and shaky around her waist. “No, Merlin,” he sighed, exasperated at his own lack of tact, “I just wanted to say “I love you” for the first time without stuttering, but that isn’t….”

He trailed off, his eyes widening, but Ginny simply smiled up at him, not a hint of hesitation on her face.

And it was like the world had stopped for him for a second, as he looked into the eyes of the woman he loved, knowing that this, this was forever, however long that lasted.

“Well, you should have just led with that,” she said, before rising on her tiptoes and kissing him, her hands disappearing into his hair, as his arms tightened around her waist. Maybe time stopped when his lips met hers, and he wasn’t sure if nature rooted for this moment or if his mind had tricked him into a perfect present, but like every time he had been with her, the warm feeling her lips gave against his, although destabilising, left him asking for more.

“I love you Harry, I love you too. In every possible way,” she whispered as she rested her forehead against his, the sun through her hair, turning it into a brilliant ten shades of red.

And he knew that this just might be forever.

I once believed love would be (Black and white)

But it's golden (Golden)

#asks #harry potter #ginny weasley #fanfiction #hinny #living together #first i love yous #fluff #romance #one shot #harry/ginny #hinny fanfiction #hinny fluff

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