#nice to get stuff off my chest after a year and a half

[ourautumn86]

catch me if you can

street racer! ellie williams x fem! reader

summary; heat rises on the streets, blood pumps with adrenaline in the race, and bad memories come up to the surface with a swing of the steering wheel.

cw; tension, swearing, mentions of death and death of a fictional character, anxiety… in the future there would be +18 content!

special thanks to @winfleurs and @atomicami for inspiring me i luv u! 🎀

“dina! wait up!” you screamed, your heels making it not quite easy to run after your best friend.

your ears were buzzing with the roaring of the audience and the car’s engines. it was a fresh saturday night, and the city seemed as bright as a constellation. adrenaline was pumping through your veins, you shouldn’t be out today. in fact, you’d sneaked out of your house. but you couldn’t help it if your friend asked for it so badly. her boyfriend, jesse, was supposed to be racing today. there was a lot of money on the line. probably about 500k. and dina had to be there. you know, the ‘good luck’ kiss and all that.

the cars looks amazing, modified with the newest technology. you could see the NOS tubes peeking though, ready to push though the chambers of the cars and burn the tires in the asphalt.

shit, you were getting excited.

you followed your friend through the crowd, trying to not lose her black wavy hair out of sight.

“jesse!” she screamed, a huge smile on her features as she ran towards the cars and her boyfriend, jumping onto his arms.

“hi beautiful.” he smiled, giving her a kiss as he held her. you made a gagging sound that made them laugh and pull apart.

“nice to see you too, jesse.” you said as you met up with the two of them. jesse chuckled.

“hey trouble maker, what are you doing here?”

“oh, you know… being a good best friend and all that.” you rolled your eyes, a playful smile on your lips.

“of course.” he hummed, squinting his eyes.

“although i really wanted to see you lose too.” you added and he laughed.

“there it is. i could see it coming.” you winked at him.

“i see you’ve got competition.” you looked around to the cars placed for the race. and you whistled. “a 2015 Lykan HyperSport? that’s gonna be hard to beat.” jesse frowned. “but of course yours is not that bad…” you placed your hand on its surface. “Nissan Skyline GT-R R34… 1999 right?” you inquired and he nodded.

dina seemed just as surprised as him.

“yeah… how do you know all this stuff about cars?” you froze. shit.

“uhh…” you shrugged. “my father. he’s a fanatic.” you quickly spurted out, and the two of them nodded, letting it slide. ‘cause they couldn’t think anything else about it, of course. you were no longer in LA, you were safe.

you sighed. almost fucked it up.

“hey, jess!” the three of you turned around at the sound of a low and sultry voice. your eyes met a pair of evergreen ones, silky auburn hair —tied half and half on a messy bun— and freckled cheeks. she was seating on the hood of her car, girls with tiny skirts and exposed cleavages surrounding her. her legs were spread, a black tank top hugging her chest and toned abdomen, leaving her strong arms exposed.

she was hot. really hot.

“yo williams.” jesse smirked. “ready to eat dirt?” she scoffed, showing off a confident smirk.

“you talk too much for someone who hasn’t beaten me once.” people around you hollered.

“and you talk too much to have that shit of a car.” you huff, and she arched her eyebrows. “Subaru WRX. year 2008.” you pointed out, your heels clicking as you got closer. “i’m sorry for your wallet. the engine and drivetrain must have given you a lot of problems.” you saw the way her jaw ticked and you smiled. “uuuh, seems like a touched a tender spot, didn’t i? i mean subarus are impressive. but not even an STI? come on. you hurt me.” you pouted and she chuckled.

“well, look at that. here i thought your pretty face would be the most interesting thing about you. but you’ve got brains.” she said, jumping off of the hood of her car, getting closer to you as she eyed you up and down.

“not like your kitties here.” you nodded at the girls and they all stared dirtily at you, what made you smirk.

“careful doll, they might scratch you all up.” she warned, playfully, so close to you you could smell her perfume. “and we wouldn’t want that beautiful face of yours to go to waste, do we?” you smirked.

“i would like to see them try.” you muttered, leaning until your faces were mere inches away. she pursed her lips and took a look at you, at your exposed legs and cleavage, beautiful hair and glossy red lips. you had gone for a simple tight tube leather dress that pushed up your tits a little bit too well, and a pair of red thin high heels. a red pendant hanging from your necklace.

“see something you like, ‘williams’?” you inquired, sultry, teasingly and she smirked.

“maybe.” she tilted her head slightly backwards. “what about you? you see something you like?”

“i do…” you nodded, droopy eyes on her own green ones and she smiled. “your car.” she let out a sarcastic laughter, shaking her head.

“but weren’t you just saying how much of a shit it was?” she inquired, eyebrows arched in disbelief.

“now it is. it won’t be once i’ve got my hands on it and touch her all up.” you said as you stared at the cherry red car. the people surrounding you let out ‘uuu’s that made you smile. “you know… a short throw shifter, maybe a new intercoolers…”

“and how are you gonna do that, princess?”

“with a race.” the crowd roared and your friends frowned. dina approached you.

“are you crazy?! do you even know how to race?” you looked at her, and took one of her hands.

“dina… i’ll explain later, okay? but now i need you to trust me on this one, alright?” jesse and dina looked at you, into your eyes, and saw your determination. silently, he handed you his keys.

“if you’re gonna race, you’ll need a car.” you looked at him, and he smiled. you returned it, taking the keys. “if you lose i’ll kill you.” he warned though, and you laughed.

“i never lose.” you promised.

“what do i win if you do?” ellie stepped into the conversation, eyebrows raised. “need to hook me in, gorgeous, i’m betting my car after all.”

“i’ll tell you what.” you smirked, turning towards her. “since it’s not gonna happen. i’ll bet you anything you want.”

“anything i want?” she inquired and you nodded. “don’t pull back later on your promise, princess.”

“i won’t.”

-

you could feel the adrenaline pumping through your veins, the tingling of your hands. you pressed on the gas, hearing the engine roar, and your heart stammered. shit. it’s been so long.

you had promised yourself you wouldn’t do it ever again. but how could you get away from all of this? from the only thing that made you feel something? that made you weak on your knees and your heart race? it was like a drug. every time you took it you’d find yourself begging for more. you needed it on your system.

you had learned how to race since a very early age, even before you had enough age to get your license —yeah, you got in trouble with the police more than once, but they could never catch you—. and even if you loved it, you’d left it all after your best friend had died while racing, in the hands of a crazy dick who made him crash against a building, making the NOS tanks blow up and burning him alive.

you still could remember your screams, how your friends had grabbed at you so you wouldn’t get closer. ‘let me go! let me fucking go!’

you’d watched the only person that got you and unconditionally loved you die in front of your eyes.

after that you’d used the millions of dollars your family name had to drown your sorrows in alcohol and drugs, getting away from the city that had taken away your everything from you and building a brand new life where nobody could know you.

you’d been hard to get to know, always having everybody at an arm’s length until dina had come along, with her stupid smile and warm personality bringing you back to life. you’d forever be grateful to and for her. but her past was something you’d never talked about, and she didn’t want to force you into it.

“i see you shaking there, princess. scared?” williams screams from her car, who just had positioned itself to your right. you scoffed.

“oh yeah, terrified.” you sarcastically said, and she smirked.

“don’t worry babe, you can always sit on my lap later, i have something that will calm you down.” she winked and you rolled your eyes.

“no thank you, once i’m done i’ll be sitting on your car and driving back to my house.” you winked back, and she chuckled, mouthing something to herself that you couldn’t figure out.

“you guys readyyyyyy?!” a girl in a mini skirt came in between the two cars, a gun in hand. the audience roared, and so did your car. there were phones everywhere, recording the impending race —and your victory—.

you bit down on your lip. you were gonna make win that pretty girl, in heels.

“set!” another girl to your right yelled, and your engine roared again, the tires burning.

“ready!” another to your left, one more roar.

“go!” the girl with the gun shot up to the sky, and before you knew you were flying. the world stopped. there was no future. no past. just the present. just that moment.

ellie took the lead, and she smirked to herself, looking at your car through her mirrors. but she just had to take her eyes away from you for two seconds to lose you. “what the-“

she took the curve, and with a honk, you drifted right beside her, in a swift motion getting in front of her backwards to the road, facing her car. you smiled at her, and send her a kiss with one of your hands before harshly spinning the wheel and drifting once again to face forwards, using the NOS to catapult yourself through the asphalt. you relished on the shock of her face. god you could never get used to it. it never got old.

ellie cursed, following right behind you, adrenaline pumping through her body.

“i’ve finally got you.” she smiled, changing gears and speeding up. another closed curve came into your view and you sped up, in a quick movement changing gears and pulling on the break as you harshly manhandled the steering wheel. you could almost see everything on slow motion, the people outside of the car roaring as you perfectly drifted in an U shape.

you screamed, euphoria in the pit of your stomach. ellie used the inertia to pull up by your side, lowering her window. you did the same. you two were on the final straight line. “you ready to lose princess?” she inquired, and you scoffed.

“catch me if you can, williams!” you screamed, and changed gears before pressing the gas. you press the NOS button, the strength making your back press tightly against your sit. you flew through the straight line, ellie copying you and keeping up with you. you could see the finish line getting closer and closer, and the speedometer getting higher.

you knew you couldn’t over do it, the crowd was waiting for the winner there, you couldn’t hurt them, you wouldn’t.

100mph, 125mph, 150mph, 165mph.

“3…2…1…” and just as you crossed the finish line, mere inches ahead from ellie, you harshly rotated the wheel, drifting as you stepped and pulled on both breaks, the tires burning against the asphalt and leaving marks as you finally stopped the car. the crowd roared and quickly approached you. dina and jesse were hollering.

you stepped out of the car with a smile on your face, your best friend jumping to hug you and jump into your arms, making you laugh.

“what?! i mean- what?!? that was amazing!!! since when could you race?!!?? oh my god!!!” you chuckled, trying to calm her down.

“i’ll tell you everything about it later, alright?” she nodded. jesse tried to say something but he was out of words. “it’s okay big boy, don’t waste your breath.” you tapped her shoulder, and he scoffed. “and now…” you turned around, watching ellie as she stepped out of her car. “i’ll be taking my prize.” you smirked, spreading out your arm and showing her your palm. she tilted her head to the side, a playful smile playing on her lips.

“sure. but first aren’t you going to introduce yourself for me, princess?” she inquired. “or should i do it… viper?” your blood froze, as well as the whole crowd. ellie smirked. “you really thought i wouldn’t recognize those drifts?” you quickly got closer to her, your breaths mingling.

those surrounding you started mumbling. your breath was shaky and your body, still filled with adrenaline, slowly filled with anxiety and bad memories.

“viper the street racer?”

“no way!”

“she disappeared years ago, is it really her?”

“i would shut up if i were you.” you hissed, and she leaned in, the smirk on her lips growing. your lips were almost brushing, and with the hand in which she had her keys, she cupped your chin.

“why don’t you make me?”

you needed to get out of here.

why… why now? why after all this years was your past catching up to you?

you quickly took her —your— keys, watching her smile as you got into your new car and started it. the crowd was unraveling and you knew soon they’d start either jumping at you or taking pictures to expose you.

“see you soon, princess!” she screamed as you drove out of there, groaning at the buzzing of your phone. “i caught you.”

-

a/n; ty’all for 7k! i’m so happy that such a large number of people enjoys my work :(🎀 i love u!! also hope you liked this fic! would you like a part 2? let me know!

#ellie the last of us #ellie #ellie x fem reader #tlou ellie #ellie williams #ellie x you #ellie williams x you #ellie williams tlou #ellie tlou #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams fic #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams angst #ellie williams smut #ellie smut #ellie x reader #ellie x y/n #ellie williams imagine #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams x female reader #tlou #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #tlou imagine #tlou smut #tlou fluff #tlou x reader #tlou2 #tlou part 2

[mysicklove]

Pairings: Drunk! Bachira x Fem! Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Summary: Just a silly little fic where reader has to take care of her lovely, very intoxicated (and horny) bf

A/N: Very self-indulgent. I had a lot of fun writing this, even if its a little pointless and I have little ppl reading my bllk stuff

Bachira is a lightweight. Sure the muscles he gained from the years of soccer helped him just a little, but other than that, after three drinks he is a goner. Some nights he cries about everything he sees, others he's laughing till he physically can't anymore. You'll never know what you'll get, but either way, he has to be watched 24/7.

And of course, his friends like to use this against him. In a couple of days it is his birthday, so the boys took him out drinking to celebrate. You didn't mind, it's not like your boyfriend would ever do anything too bad while intoxicated. Besides, you threatened Isagi enough to watch over him.

Of course, the knocking on your apartment door did not sound like a good sign. Nor Isagis slightly slurred, "Y/N! Open up!"

You sigh, and stand up from your spot on the couch to hear Kunigamis gruff, "Dude be nice!"

"Please open up?"

"We are at Y/Ns house? Woaahhhhh!"

You open the door to see Kunigami, Isagi, and of course your boyfriend. He is being held up by the two, his head lolled to the side and a lazy grin on his face.

You raise your eyebrows at Isagi in particular. He knew how easily Bachira gets drunk. "Really?"

"Hey don't look at me! Kunigami was the one who gave him shots!"

Your mouth flies open and you turn to the orange-haired man. "You gave him shots? Are in insane? He gets tipsy off a sip of alcohol!"

"Y/NNNNN," Bachira whines, trying to wave at you from the hands on the two's shoulders. You half-heartedly wave back, looking back to the other two for an explanation.

Kunigami leans forward to get a look at Isagi. "How was I know he was a lightweight?"

Isagi points a thumb at you. "He was crying about how he missed her after two drinks!"

Before Kunigami could argue, Bachira tries to reach out for you, and goes toppling forward. All three of you guys catch him, your hand on his chest to try and steady him. "You caught me!" He giggles to you, smiling as his forehead bumps yours.

"Yeah no, we caught you. Y/N, do you think you can handle him?" Isagi says glancing at you, hoping you aren't too mad.

You sigh, and manage to wrap an arm around your shoulder. He leans his head onto your shoulder, trying to get as close to you as possible. He was so clingy when drunk. "Yeah yeah. I'm fine. He isn't too heavy."

The boys both sigh in relief and help pass him on to you. You turn around and wave them goodbye. They nod and apologize before you shut the door. You hear Kunigami mumble something about how this trip was sobering him up.

"Let's get you to clean up and to bed, hmm?" You sigh, rubbing his hair affectionately and beginning to drag him to the bathroom. It was harder than you thought, considering he was basically putting all his weight on you, and cuddling up to you.

"I had fun tonight!"

"Yeah?" You respond, maneuvering him to sit on the closed toilet seat. He nods his head, it's slow and wobbly, but cute.

"But I—But then I was like.....Like where is Y/N? I miss Y/N." Both of his hands are planted in between his slightly spread legs, and he's swaying from side to side. "And they were getting mad at me!"

An amused smile pulls at your face as you open the cupboard and pull out a soft light blue headband. "What did they say?" You say, placing the headband over his face, and then back up again to remove his bangs from his face.

He touches the headband, while his eyebrows slightly furrow. "Hmmmm...They said—Oh! They said I was being dramatic! And I was soooooo confused. Because I am not dramatic, Isagi is the dramatic one!"

You bark a small laugh as you use a wet rag to damp his face with water. "I like your laugh," He mumbles, head falling forward onto your stomach. You prop him back up and he pouts at you but doesn't say anything.

You grab the face wash and foam it up, before turning back to him and spreading it on his face. He blinks up at you and smiles at the proximinity. "You are so pretty, Y/N"

"Thanks, Meguru. Can you close your eyes for me? I don't want to get soap in them." He obeys with a hum and begins to sway again, but this time it seems more purposeful as if he was just happy to be there.

'Y'know, I think I like you. Like really really really like you," He chirps, leaning into your touch, and allowing his face to get massaged by the soap.

You laugh at him, a grin plastered on your face. "Weird...Cause I happen to really really really like you too." His eyes fly open with his smile. "Close them."

"Oooooh so demanding. I like that too."

You ignore him, instead grabbing the washcloth and beginning to remove the soap from his face. "So I was thinking....." He opens his eyes when he feels you dab at his forehead.

You can tell he is looking at you to prompt him. "Yeah?"

"Wellllllllll, I think tonight. Well actually! And tomorrow and after tomorrow and the day after—"

"Meguru," You warn, cutting off his ramblings.

He giggles at you. "We should have sex!"

You pull off his headband and set it back away, trying to fight back the smile. "You are a horny drunk. It's not happening tonight, that's for sure."

He lets out a loud dramatic whine and stands up, wobbling over to you. "But whyyyyy. It's my birthday! And I am not drunk!"

You watch him stumble over his feet and raise an eyebrow. Before he could fall you grab at his side and lead him back down to the toilet. You hand him a glass of water. "Drink."

He takes a couple gulps of water under your watchful gaze, before cringing from the lack of air, and slamming it back on the counter. He immediately goes back to the conversation before. "Whyyyyyy. But I like—No love you! This is what people who are dating do!"

"Because you are drunk. Your breath smells like straight alcohol. And your birthday is not for another two days, egoist."

"I am going to brush my teeth. And then—You!" He jabs a finger in your face. "Will meet me!" Finger flips around to point at himself. "In the bed in five minutes. Where we!" He rotates the finger back and forth between the two of you. "Will make love."

You nod at him, patting his head in a teasing way. "Lets work on the first task. And I will think about it."

He seems to like this answer, eyes lighting up. "Really?"

"Sure," You say, knowing its definitely not happening. You grab his toothbrush and lather it with toothpaste.

"Oh my—I just remembered something."

"Hmm?" You mumble, putting water on the bristles.

"I got hit on at the bar!" He giggles, looking up at you with a grin.

You narrow your eyes and cock your head to the side. It's not like you were worried about it, but still, it was not something to hear about it. "She said—Wait. What did she say? Oh! Oh! She said I was "totes adorbs" Isn't that funny, Y/N? She was a foreigner!"

You didn't think it was too funny. You hand him the toothbrush, but he doesn't take notice to it, still immersed in the story. "But hey! Guess what."

"What?"

"I said I was married. And coming back home to my wife. My wife as in you! You are my wife. Er-um, pretend wife, who will be my real wife soon!" He rambles on, leaning forward toward you to hopefully coax out some approval.

You indulge him, smiling at him. "Good job, my pretend husband," You tease, ruffling up his hair gently. "Now, brush your teeth."

He nods, plunging the toothbrush into his mouth and getting to work. You lead him to the sink and he spits it out and turns to you with approval. You nod at him, and he gives himself a thumbs up in the mirror.

ust when you are about to lead him out of the bathroom, you watch a frown begin to form. Not a good sign. The waterworks were coming. "I missed you so much," He whines gripping onto your shirt, as tears begin to prick at his eyes.

"Wow, Meguru. You really are drunk. C'mon, let's get you to bed," You sigh, hoisting him up and helping him toward the bedroom.

He sniffles at you, leaning into your neck. "Did you not miss me?"

"I missed you desperately," You tease, smiling at him and wiping away the dramatic crocodile tears.

He seems to like this answer, nodding to himself. "Good. Cause I missed you."

"I know, love."

"A lot. I was so so sad." You cover your mouth to hold back the laugh. You didn't want to encourage him even more or make him cry again. "But don't worry! I am happy again!"

"I'm glad." You say as you begin to undress him.

"Woah. Woah. Woah. You said—You said! We weren't doing it tonight. But look at you." You glance up at him in amusement and then tug his sleep shirt on. Once he realizes it, he pouts and looks away.

Then you pull up the covers for him and lead him into bed. He more like trips into the sheets, but you throw a pillow on him, not worried about it.

Finally, you get on your side and tuck yourself in next to him. "Goodnight Meguru, let's hope the hangover isn't too bad."

"I really want to have sex," He turns to you, blinking at you in the dark.

You sigh, pushing a pillow in front of his face. "Maybe tomorrow, you drunk. Goodnight Meguru."

He groans one last time, and you hear him mumble, "Worst birthday gift ever." into the pillow. He falls asleep in less than thirty seconds.

#mello.writes #bachira x reader #bachira x you #bachira meguru #x reader #reader insert #bllk bachira #bachira fluff #meguru bachira x reader #bllk x reader #bachira meguru x reader #fem reader #fem! reader #bachira fanfic #meguru fluff #bllk fluff #bllk x you

[ferida-kahlo]

I can read it in your eyes

Mikey Berzatto x F!Reader

Summary: Hanging out with your boyfriend at your apartment, you sense he needs something special from you, tonight. Something to lighten the load on his shoulders... so you provide.

Or: the one where Mikey has a praise k!nk 🥰

Warnings: 18+, SMUT, praise k!nk, Oral (m receiving), BJ, dom/sub undertones, light dom/sub dynamics, light soft!dom, established relationship, PWP, p*rn with feelings, aftercare, c!m eating (blink-and-you-miss-it). Minors DNI.

Word count: 2.7k

Notes: I'm sorry in advance, this is pure filth that I needed to purge out of my system.

Read below the cut OR on AO3

‘Sweetheart, what the hell are you doing over there?’

You peeked at him from the kitchen doorframe to the couch, where he was slumping. You grinned. ‘Is that early onset dementia, babe? I told you I was getting us some popcorn.’

‘Yeah, and it’s been a thousand years. Come here already’. He patted the cushion next to him and made a face that reminded you of a small, abandoned puppy being kicked to the curb.

You stared right back with cold, narrowed eyes. ‘Michael. Are you fucking pouting at me?’

He tilted his head. ‘Is it working?’

‘Nope’, you said sweetly, blowing him a kiss and returning to the microwave, where the sporadic sounds of corn popping inside the bag let you know it was almost done.

A half-hearted grumble could be heard from the living room. You smiled. To be honest, you’d been spending most days anticipating these moments. Getting home after work, taking a shower, cooking some quick dinner, and eating it lazily whilst watching random stuff on TV… until the text notification came through. Be there in 10. The rush of excitement you got after that never got old.

You returned to the living room, triumphantly holding a giant bowl full of popcorn, and giving your boyfriend the most doe-eyed look you could muster. ‘Are you proud of me?’

He laughed at your attempt to be sexy – which if Mike was being honest… was kind of working. He loved seeing you like this, relaxed in your lounge wear – especially if that lounge wear consisted of tiny shorts and even tinier tops. He knew for a fact you weren’t wearing any underwear. You never did when he came around the house. And that was more than fine by him.

‘No offense, baby’, he reached over to the bowl, took it, and settled it on the floor, gently holding your hands in his big, rough ones. ‘But right now, I just need you to bring your beautiful ass over here’. He pointed to his lap and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

‘Wow. So subtle, Mikey.’ You laughed, making no move to resist his pull. You sat across his lap with your arms around his shoulders. ‘You’re lucky you’re cute. And sweet. And funny. And hot. And caring. And oh my god, so perceptive. And…’. With each compliment you feel an irresistible urge to kiss his nose, so you do.

He smiled weakly. ‘You’re too much. I ain’t none of t…’.

You shushed him with a finger on his lips and a hard stare. ‘Mike, honey’, your voice was sweet, but lower than usual, ‘you need to shut up and listen more. I was talking to you, saying all these nice things, and you go and interrupt me like that?’. With a feigned hurt look down at his chest, where your hands started softly rubbing, you tsk-tsk, disapprovingly.

‘You know I…’, he begins, but stops as soon as you lift your eyes, staring hardly at him, and your previously soothing hand suddenly rests still on top of his heart. He holds his breath for a bit, caught in your gaze like a deer in headlights. Oh. It’s going to be one of those nights, then, you think, with a mix of trepidation and excitement deep in your belly.

Finally, he closes his eyes and releases a deep sigh. You feel his entire upper body go limp beneath your hands – shoulders slump forward, the hands gripping your waist drop to the couch, and his forehead slams between the valley of your breasts. It’s like the whole week is melting off him. In nights like these, he needs you to take care of him, but seldom has the courage to ask for it. You gotta work it out of him.

‘That’s right, sweetheart. God, that’s okay. I know you’re tired. But you are so good. So good for me. So good for everyone.’ You coo at him, holding his face close to your chest, fingers threading between his thick locks of raven hair and lips slowly kissing all over his nose, cheeks, beard, temples...

‘Babe…’ he whispers meekly, looking at you through half-lidded eyes.

You halt your caresses, concerned. ‘Sorry, honey. Is this okay? Do you need to stop?’

‘No, please. Absolutely not. Please… don’t stop.’

‘Okay, then.’ You smile, stroking his cheek gently with one hand while the other moves tentatively lower, moving through his chest, reaching his belly. ‘… Mikey?’

‘Yeah?’

‘Are you gonna shut your beautiful mouth and let me take care of you tonight?’, you whisper against his lips.

He scoffs, defeated, looking at you like you hung the moon and all the stars in the sky. Like he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. ‘Yeah, I guess I am.’

The pillow is soft against your skin. Mike never lets you kneel directly on the floor – even in nights such as this, when he’s so pent up with desire and longing that he turns speechless and melts into the couch, vulnerable to your every whim. Even though you’ve told him several times before that you like it – the stark contrast between the cold, hard floor and the warmness that seeps out of him, where he holds your cheek so softly. As if you were going to break.

His cock always feels really nice, too. Heavy against your tongue, a slightly tangy taste, a perfect girth stretching your lips. Right now, you’re looking up from under fluttering eyelashes, to check on him (sometimes, when his hand tightens in your hair, you notice he’s frowning with tightly shut eyes – something pulled him out of the moment and plunged him right back into the world, outside of the little bubble of love and bliss you created for him).

Thankfully, he looks fine. More than. He is staring right back at you, mouth agape, hair disheveled, chest heaving. It’s embarrassing how wet that sight leaves you.

You release his cock with a wet pop, giving the tip a kitten lick as you continue to stroke him, slowly. ‘Okay, baby?’

‘Yeah, honey… very okay. God, your mouth… can I fuck it? Please’, he pleads.

You smile sweetly, suddenly becoming aware of the silence that permeates the flat, and how both of you seem to be in tandem with it. You’ve been quietly delighting in each other’s touch for almost an hour now, speaking only once or twice, in whispers.

‘Of course you can, Bear. Can you be a good boy for me and hold my hair up, please?’

‘Fuck, yeah, baby, I can... Thank you, so much’. He sounds out of it, in the best of ways. Like he’s on autopilot, waiting for your instructions, the script of your dance engraved on the tip of his tongue, completely surrendered to the pleasure you allow him to take from you. It takes all your self-control not to lose it and pounce on him. But tonight isn’t about you – so you take a breath and recenter. Mike. Mikey. Michael.

Ever so helpful, he moves his hands to smoothly hold your lose hair in a makeshift ponytail. He never stops looking at you through glazed, fucked out eyes. ‘Too tight?’, his voice raspy.

‘No, Mikey, it’s perfect. Thank you’. You close your eyes and allow yourself a moment to revel in the grounding feel of his hands. You know he likes seeing you are enjoying this as well. When you lazily reopen your eyes, you realize both of you are smiling stupidly at each other.

‘You’re being so good for me, tonight… you know that, right?’. You rub his thick, trembling thighs, up and down. ‘So good at following instructions… trusting me to take care of you… Do you know what I’m thinking, baby?’. You can’t resist punctuating your speech by licking all around his shaft, red and throbbing and drooling with pre-cum at this point. A low moan rips out of him when you suddenly envelop almost the entirety of his cock with your mouth, lightly sucking…

His grip on your hair tightens and inadvertently lifts your mouth away from him, startling you. He gives you a regretful look. ‘Sorry, sweetheart… you gotta give me a few seconds, or I’m gonna shoot my load all over your face, like… now’. He chuckles dejectedly.

You pause to consider this. ‘Hm… okay, baby. But you didn’t let me finish what I was saying…’ You tilt your head to the side, a suggestive smile dancing on your face.

He frowns suspiciously, and you want to grab his face and cover it in smooches. ‘What?’

Slowly, never looking away from him, you slide your body between his legs, your arms gliding over the sculpted planes of his belly and chest, covering them in kisses, until you reach his neck, and with your arms around it, stroking his hair, your forehead against his, you sigh into his mouth.

‘I think… good, well-behaved, and polite boys should get rewarded’. You look up at him. ‘I think they should be allowed to cum wherever they want… as a treat.’

He sits there, immobile, lips parted – suspended in the exhilarating expectation of what he knew you were going to say.

‘Mikey… I want you to fuck my mouth and cum on my face… now. Can you do that, baby?’, you whisper against his lips.

You think you hear ‘fuck’ right before he roughly grabs the back of your head and smashes your mouths together in a searing kiss. You whimper, surprised, but allow yourself to relish this loss of control. After all, you did say he deserved a reward.

For a few seconds, you let him maneuver your head freely, fucking your mouth with his tongue – like he’s saying ‘here, sweetheart, take this appetizer, the main course will fucking reck you’. His hands paw at your breasts, thighs, waist, and ass, like he’s a starving man presented with a seven-course meal, not knowing where to start or finish. You desperately press your thighs together for some relief to your neglected core.

When he starts thrusting up his pelvis, unconsciously trying to fuck your tits, you decide it’s time to take back control. With a bite to his lower lip, you steal a startled noise out of him and push him firmly back against the couch.

You school your face into a stern, disappointed expression. ‘That’s enough, honey’. You are proud of how smooth your voice sounds, considering how horny you are.

He looks absolutely defeated – his hair all messed up from your hands, chest heaving, panting for air. You want to eat him whole.

‘God, baby… that must hurt’. You say in mock pity, looking sadly down at his fully hard cock, an angry red, shiny from spit and semen. You look back up at him. ‘Are you gonna be a good boy, and do what I told you to do, Mikey?’

‘Fuck, yes, please, sweetheart, please, just… fuck, I can’t take it anymore. I need your mouth, please…’. He’s babbling, overwhelmed, his eyes watery with unshed tears. By this point, you know the teasing is over – he needs release, and you need to give it to him.

You cup his face gently. ‘It’s alright, baby… you’re alright. Okay? Hm?’ he nods frantically. You kiss his nose sweetly and get back down on your knees, never taking your eyes away from his.

‘I’m gonna take care of you now, baby… my big, soft, sweet Bear’, you whisper, sliding down his chest until you reach his cock. His hands are immediately back to their native place, holding the hair away from your face.

You open your mouth and begin enveloping his cock, slowly. He watches you intently, thighs trembling and mouth quivering, new tears ready to burst from his eyes. Waiting for permission.

A slow blink and small nod of your head are enough for him. Go ahead, Mikey. Take what’s yours. He releases a broken moan, a dam of want bursting open with his first thrust into your mouth. He bottoms out, because he knows you can take it. He knows that, right now, all you want is for him to let go.

You never stop looking at him. Even as his thrusts lose rhythm, and his hands start slipping from your hair down to grip your jaw, and his cock his constantly hitting the back of your throat, cutting off the air supply.

Your eyes water and tears run down your cheeks with abandon, as your mind enters that stage of pure bliss. No thoughts but a loop of keep mouth open, tongue out, breathe out of nose in time with thrusts, check if he’s OK, keep mouth open, tongue out, …

‘Baby, baby, baby, I can’t, I can’t anymore… I’m gonna cum, please, g – fuck’. Shaking, he takes his length in hand for the first time tonight, pulling it out and stroking it with abandon over your face.

You nod frantically, closing your eyes and crying out as soon as his cock is out of your mouth, a desperate string of yes, yes, yes, yes, baby, please –. Tongue out and mouth wide open, you feel a smile forming on your face as the first strings of cum hit your chin and cheeks. You lap up every drop that falls near your mouth.

Everything goes very still, suddenly – like time stops. Your body is frozen, but so is your mind. Light as a feather. A hand swiping your cheek gently brings you back to the present – you look up, fucked out of your mind, to see Mikey looking down at you, equally exhausted, but smiling so sincerely, he reminds you of a prophet. Maybe it’s the beard. That makes you laugh.

‘What’s so funny, lady?’ he asks softly, joining you on the floor, your face between both his giant hands, kissing it all over, taking his time to wipe off the cum with his tongue, then bringing it to your mouth in a long, languid kiss. Griping his strong arms, you try to pull him in as close to you as possible, eager for his touch. He chuckles.

Then, one of his hands cups your entire pussy roughly through your soaked shorts.

You moan into his mouth and, like a lightning bolt, you’re coming so hard it knocks the air out of your lungs. You’re shocked, but Mike doesn’t stop the kiss for a fraction of a second, managing to blabber out a string of filth at the same time.

‘Oh, fuck yeah, baby, that’s it, let go… holy shit, you can come just from getting your mouth fucked and a little kiss? Jesus Christ… go ahead, sweetheart. What the hell did I do to deserve such a sweet, beautiful thing in my life…’

‘God, Mikey, shut the fuck up’. You don’t know when you started crying, or why you are also laughing like a maniac – nothing makes sense, and yet everything is so right.

‘How do you feel, baby?’, you ask, sniffling and stroking his face.

He laughs. ‘I feel so good, sweetheart. You took care of me, and I didn’t even know how bad I needed it. But you always do. And you put me in my place… fuck… you break me into pieces and put me back together. Thank you’. He whispers that last part, his mouth hovering over yours as his fingers wipe away the tears from your barely open, reddened eyes.

You smile, contented. ‘You are a good boy, Mikey’.

‘And you are an amazing girl, who needs to go to bed now’.

You let him lift you up like a sack of potatoes and throw you over his shoulder, barely complaining. ‘You’re lucky I’m exhausted, or you would regret this’, you mumble.

He slaps your ass, and you yelp. ‘Wanna square it up in the morning?'

‘I’ll kick your ass in 30 minutes, asshole’.

He arrives in your bedroom and puts you down on the bed with a chuckle, following right after. ‘I’m sure you would, sweetheart’.

After he cleans you up with a warm, wet towel, you snuggle against him beneath the sheets. You feel yourself drifting off, but before that, you pull yourself up, grab his face, and kiss him sweetly.

‘I love you, Mikey’.

He smiles. ‘I love you, baby’.

#the bear #the bear fx #michael berzatto #mikey berzatto #michael berzatto x reader #mikey berzatto x reader #mike berzatto #mike berzatto x reader #fic #smut

[rebelfell]

Needed a hit of modern!wealthy!Steve that’s kind of an amalgam of all my favorites (wcil, dcmb, pbv, I’m looking at you 👀). Only alludes to smut, reference to rimming, and a whisper of dom!Steve. Otherwise just bunch of fluff. 2k

I’m just in a mood where I want to be spoiled within an inch of my life is that so wrong?? 18+ MDNI

Throbbing. Aching. Pounding.

Your head was on fire when you awoke—basted in sweat, somehow also shivering as you dragged yourself out from under the blankets you had twisted yourself up in during the night.

Steve’s bedroom was dark and cool as a cave, thermostat turned way down and the ceiling fan set to its highest setting, though it barely made a sound. Sitting on the bedside table was a chilled Voss water bottle and a small ceramic dish with some Advil in it that was beckoning. 

It had been years since you were this hungover. Close to a decade, almost. You remembered the feeling well, though you were far less equipped to shake it off in your “advancing” age. 

Eagerly, you took the much needed pills and gulped down the water. A shudder ran through you as you recalled how, in your twenties, you would cure a morning like this with bottomless mimosas. Just the thought made your stomach churn. It was a miracle you hadn’t thrown up. 

You didn’t do this anymore. You went out, sure. You got a little tipsy and sometimes maybe that turned into a lot tipsy. You were supposed to be smarter now, though. Older. Wiser.

But when your old college friends called and said they were going to be in town for just one night—and you just so happened to be getting off work early, and you had the next day off…

What exactly were you supposed to do?

Evidently, the answer was mainline tequila and dance to 90s music until your muscles went limp—not that you even felt it with the liquor coursing through your body. All to end the night stumbling across the threshold of your boyfriend’s swanky penthouse at nearly two in the morning.

You only half-remembered getting to Steve’s, incapable of resisting the allure of him and his Savoir bed in your drunken state. You had sunk into the plump mattress and practically floated, weightless as you drifted off to sleep. Steve still refused to tell you how much it cost, fearful you would never agree to sleep in it again after you found out. But you’d googled it and holy fucking shit was he right to be worried. It was so nice, though—stuffed (apparently) with sheep’s wool, pure cashmere and Mongolian yak hair. Of all his rich guy stuff that both perplexed and allured you simultaneously, that one was your favorite.

The sound of Steve moving around in the kitchen as well as the clinking of his stainless steel cook-ware drew you out of hiding. You shuffled out of his room sluggishly, hugging your glass water bottle to your chest like a teddy bear.

“Hey, killer.”

Steve’s smile was so dazzlingly bright it actually made you wince. How did you not noticeyou were dating a damn Crest commercial? Grumbling your good morning, you squinted at the massive floor-to-ceiling windows of his apartment and had to resist the urge to hiss.

“Whoops—sorry, baby, hang on.”

He quickly tugged his phone out of his pocket and swiped his thumb across the screen, tapping it on some controls. There’s a soft electrical whir you know well, and the apartment goes from painfully bright to comfortably dim as his remote controlled curtains begin to descend. Rather than the blackout shades drawn in the bedroom, he’s opted for the regular ones so a bit of natural light can still filter through as he makes his breakfast.

Or, at least what you thought was his breakfast.

“I didn’t think you’d be up this soon,” he said with a chuckle, sliding a freshly poured cup of coffee across the counter to you.

“I’m not,” you muttered. “I’m pretty sure I’m dead and astral projecting what’s left of my soul.”

A steaming plate of eggs piled with cubed ham, green pepper and cheese promptly appeared in front of you as you took a seat at his vast kitchen island. It sits in a scrambled heap, not the pretty omelet you were guessing Steve had planned to present you with. But it looks divine regardless.

“Another failed attempt?” you chuckled, taking the fork he was holding out.

“I’m gonna get it one of these days,” he replies with an easy smile.

With an elaborate flourish you know is for your benefit, he slapped the dish towel in his hand over his shoulder and leaned on the counter as he waited to watch you take your first bite.

“Ugh,” you moaned as you brought the fork to your lips. “So fucking good.”

Your stomach quivered with relief at finally having something in it that wasn’t liquor, but you willed it to behave and hoped it would settle the more you had. Steve smirked.

“So, how much do you remember?”

The cocky smile on the boy’s lips tells you you should be glad your memory is hazy. The night was coming back to you in flashes, but they were blurred and jumbled.

You weren’t blacked out or anything, your friends would have never let you leave alone if you were, but you were definitely past the point of thinking even remotely rationally. Hence, why you’d shown up here when you found out Steve was still awake after having to get on a conference call with one of his company’s international contingents.

You remembered tumbling into a cab and the driver rolling his eyes when you slurred at him to take you to Steve’s house before prompting you for, you know, an actual address.

And Steve had helped you dress for bed, gently batting away your hands when you tried to paw at the waistband of his sweatpants. It only made you more determined, snaking fingers into his tousled brown hair or raking your nails down his muscled chest—stopping when you noticed one of them had broken and the polish was starting to chip.

You didn’t care, though. You were too hungry for him. Too fucking ravenous.

“You better behave,” he’d warned, eyes flashing with that look you loved. The one that made your insides squirm and your thighs press.

“Or what?” you’d teased, still toying with the drawstring of his thin sweats. 

“Or you’ll be sorry.”

He tried to keep up his firm demeanor, but the little twitch in the corner of his mouth betrayed him. The words and his smooth, authoritative voice still made your heart race, though.

You loved it when he made you sorry.

Steve wouldn’t do anything, though. Aside from a few kisses he refused to deepen and a graze (or two) of your hand he let you get away with, Steve kept things very PG-13. He helped you out of your dress and brushed a soft cloth across your face to remove your make-up.

He got you into comfy clothes and swaddled the two of you in bed after you’d finished the Voss he added a Liquid IV to. They were supposed to be for the trail runs he liked to do on the weekends, but they were good to have on hand for nights like this. In seconds you went limp and pliant in his arms and fell asleep with him stroking your hair, his warm breath tickling the shell of your ear.

“I remember you taking care of me,” you said, giving him a sweet smile before you squished your eyes closed in shame. “And I know I was kinda worked up.”

Steve chuckled at that, taking a sip of his own coffee. “I noticed.”

A loud groan came out of you, though this one wasn’t from the pain in your head.

You’d conveniently left your phone in the bedroom, too embarrassed to even look at your text thread with him from last night. Because you did vaguely recall a slew of blue bubbles filled with increasingly lewd comments and promises of what you were going to do to him that you had no business promising in your current state.

You imagined they read like a horny haiku.

I’m coming for you, baby

Hahah that’s what she said.

Or…what I said?

Whatever

I need you so bad

Wanna kiss every mole on your body

I think your little hole misses me, wants my tongue again

Want you to fuck me until we break that 30,000 dollar bed

You wondered if there was a way to remotely delete texts? From your phone…from your brain.

Drunken you’s tendency to write sexts your pussy couldn’t cash was one of your least appealing qualities, in your opinion. You got yourself all riled up just to pass out within ten minutes. But it entertained Steve to no end seeing that side of you, so unlike the coy and demure front you usually tried to put up.

“I was kind of a mess, wasn’t I? I can’t believe I did that.”

“Hey, don’t start,” Steve cooed, coming around the island and coiling you up in his arms. “You work hard, you deserve to have some fun. And it’s your day off, who cares if you’re hungover?”

The smell of his aftershave filled your nose as he hugged you and his hands came up to cradle your face as he planted a kiss on your forehead, barely phased by how clammy it was.

“You know, we can cancel date night if you don’t feel up to it. Just order in? Watch a movie?”

“No, no need,” you said. “I’ll be okay. I’m already feeling better.”

A lie. But you at least felt like you might feel better soon, so that was something. And Steve had been looking forward to trying this restaurant since he got the reservation.

“Okay, great.” Steve smiled. “So we’ll have dinner at 6, then the show…I’m thinking maybe we’ll skip cocktails and do dessert at that little place you like instead?” he asked.

You hummed at the thought of a warm, gooey blondie topped with vanilla ice cream and maple syrup from your favorite dessert bar. Steve smiled and nodded knowingly as he started to gather his laptop and a few other things into his work bag.

“You want me to send the car here or to your place to pick you up?”

“Mine,” you sighed. “I gotta pick something else to wear now.”

A sour frown covered your face as you thought of the dress you had intended to wear tonight, but had wound up being drafted for your clubbing extravaganza. It was just too tempting, ready and waiting for you hanging on the back of your door when you rushed home to get ready for your impromptu plans.

It had ended up in a heap somewhere last night as Steve helped you out of it, his nose wrinkling when he noticed how it reeked of the Guiness some jerk spilled on you at the last bar you went to before calling it a night. And it wasn’t lost on you that it was missing now, probably having been sent out for drycleaning with some of Steve’s suits and dress shirts.

Steve just smiled, his voice playful as his eyes twinkled.

“How about you buy something new instead?” he asked. “Go see my girl. Maybe she’s got a spare dress or something laying around.”

You rolled your eyes. His personal seamstress never had spare bespoke dresses just laying around. The twinkle in his eye made you guess, correctly, that he had already commissioned something for you weeks ago or had her tailor a piece for you he’d found himself.

“You did look good in the other one, though.” he mused. “I’m glad I got to see it.”

You sighed and shoveled down another bite of your breakfast.  “I’m sorry I just showed up like that. I, ahh…wasn’t thinking super clearly.”

“Don’t be silly,” Steve said. “I’m always happy to see you. Plus it’s…it’s kinda nice when you get that way. All needy for me.”

His warm lips pressed against your throat, vibrating with a soft moan as he left a trail of delicate kisses up the column of your neck to the sensitive spot behind your ear.

“Just stay here,” he pleaded softly. “You know you like my bed better.”

A sigh released from deep in your chest and you melted into his touch as one of his broad palms coasted across your thigh, making your skin buzz under his hand. Hanging out here was sounding better by the second. You already had some clothes in the drawer he’d cleared out for you in his closet and you could get in and out of his place fine with the keycard he’d given you. 

The amenities were awfully tempting. You thought of his sleek, modern bathroom that looked more like it belonged in a spa rather than someone’s home, complete with a seemingly endless array of aromatherapy products. You could continue your ongoing affair with his steam shower and the massage cycle in his bathtub. And his building had a rooftop gym that was basically private when all the other executives who lived here were off at work.

“Okay,” you sighed, playing up the dramatics with a flutter of your lashes. “If I have to.”

Steve chuckled at your sarcasm and gave your thigh a tight squeeze.

“Think you’ll get your nails done today?” he asked, remembering your adorably forlorn look when you noticed the break last night.

“Actually, I could,” you said, thinking. Your nail lady’s shop was only a few blocks from here.

Before you’d even answered, his leather wallet had come out of his jacket pocket and he was tugging crisp notes from the billfold.

“Steve, you don’t have to—”

“Baby, please?” he pouted, jutting out his plush bottom lip at you. “It’s for me.” 

“How are my nails for you?” you snorted and tried to bite back a smile. It didn’t work.

“You need fresh claws if you’re gonna scratch my back up right,” he teased lowly, slipping bills into your hand. Way too much, way more than you needed to leave Mariana a great tip.

“So you can have a pedicure too.”

He answered the thought you hadn’t spoken and his mouth covered yours, cutting off any further protests with one last long kiss.

“See you tonight, baby,” he said. His lips skimmed your jaw and his voice lowered to a heated whisper in your ear. “And don’t think I forgot about making you sorry later.”

With that, he snatched up his bag and breezed out the door, leaving you breathless staring after him. And suddenly it wasn’t your hangover that had your stomach doing somersaults.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem reader #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington fluff #steve stranger things

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

No Pain, No Gain | Part 2 | PersonalTrainer!Aemond x fem!reader

A/N: thank you for all the love on the first chapter you little horn-dogs, particularly to all my queens I gave love to in the first chapter <3 you modern!aeomond girlies are smth else

Series Masterlist

cheers to @ewanmitchellcrumbs as per, for reading beforehead. luvu

warnings:  EVENTUAL SMUT, 18+, sexual tension, binge eating, mentions of breakup, cursing, dickhead Aemond, reader is horny af, English slang (soz), warnings will be added when needed

As much as you’d hate to admit it. Baela was once again right. Working out did make you feel a bit better. Getting your arse out of bed, with the constant ache of your legs and arms and forcing yourself out of the flat was a nice change of pace. Even more so when you thought about the fact you were doing something good for yourself.

 The two workouts you did after meeting Aemond for the first time were admittedly difficult. He’d sent you some workouts to do, each alternating depending on the day you would go to the gym. Legs, arms, mid-section. His sense of organisation was almost impressive, if it weren’t for the one word answers he would give he might actually be tolerable.

 You pull on your black sports bra. It’s Friday, exactly one week after you’d met up with him for the first time and to your distaste, you’d have to see him again. You’re about to pull it over your head, watching Baela fanny about gathering her stuff so she can stay with her sister for the weekend. It’s funny to watch her when she’s flustered like this, it makes her irritable, which is rare for her.

 “How is it…that my armpits ache?” you ask as you pull it over your chest.

 Baela white curls peer around the door, pursing her lips at the gym outfit.

 “What day is it today?” she asks, packing her makeup bag, a mess of dirty brushes and probably stuff she’s had for going on four years.

 Huffing, you check the schedule on your phone, “Some legs I think, maybe some core if I don’t kick him in the face”

 Baela shoots you a look, “Oh come on, he can’t be that bad”

 You sit on the bed, unlacing your trainers to pull them on, “It’s just his face when he said it to me. Genuinely he makes me just wanna-” your hands clasp together in a strangling motion, imagining his dumb face between your hands, “Ugh!”

 Once you’re laced up, you run your hands through your hair, “I hate men”

 “Same girlie” Baela says from the kitchen, “speaking of which I think your ex is back in town”

 You raise your eyebrows, “remind me, why I should care?” sneaking up behind you she squeezes your thigh playfully, right where the muscle is so tender, “Ah-ah, ow! You bitch”

 “Because you might run into him and I know what you’re like, ice queen” she says, packing every little thing into her overnight bag she can, even going as far as to sit on it, “if you do run into him just don’t give him the time of day”

 She jumps on the bag, trying to zip it up.

 Sigh, “Move, let me” you say, shooing her away.

 You lean your body over the bag, using your chest to sandwich the two parts together and zip the bag up, raising your arms in victory.

 “God that’s so hot” Baela says biting her lip to which you give her a playful swat, “Aemond’ll have you in that position later”

 Gag.

 “Baela! That’s your cousin!”

 She shrugs playfully, “Doesn’t mean you can’t fuck him”

 “I’m not fucking Aemond, Bae” you say sternly

 She scans you, silently judging, “You need a good dicking. I’m not saying it has to my cousin, but something please. You’re annoying when you’re horny”

 You put your hands on your hips, pretending to be offended as she drags her overnight bag to the door.

 “Oh please. I see how often you have to charge your vibrator”

 “Don’t you judge me”

 “I’m not judging, I’m just saying having a human dick might be due at some point” she half-shouts down the hallway, “Off to Rhaena’s, have fun!”

 The door slams shut after that.

 “Oh boy I will” you mutter under your breath, grabbing your car keys.

 Ping.

 And as if right on cue, the annoyance in question has sent you an Instagram DM. You read it already half-annoyed and tap off a reply as soon as you’ve typed it.

As much as you mean for the response to be sarcastic, you have a feeling he won’t get that vibe. And if he does, he won’t care.

 Besides, why doesn’t he use capital letters? Where’s the ‘sorry i’ll be late’? And who the hell signs off every message with their initials?

 This guy.

 He’s going to be the death of your patience for sure.

 Secretly, you appreciate coming to the gym in the middle of the day when it’s not as busy. It at least eases a tiny bit of that anxiety you feel. And you know it’s not true, but when it’s busy you feel like everyone is watching you, knowing that you’re not as fit as them or as good as them. It feels a bit like you’re on show.

 Once locking up your bag and coat, you pull your wireless earphone out and stick one in, pulling yourself onto the stairmaster. Start on Level 5 for 5 minutes and then the rest on 10, he had instructed. At first your legs felt like they were on fire, but it had gotten a bit easier as the week went on.

 As you step again and again, you put on a random playlist. Seeing as you and Baela share a Spotify, you get recommended some right tat and so you distastefully scroll past her music and land on a random one. Some 80’s tunes would have to do. You didn’t have any energy to care anyway.

 As boring as the stairmaster is, it gives you a good view for people-watching and generally being nosy. So as a-ha Take on Me plays in your left ear, you watch the various other gym-goers. Some putting very little effort into their workouts and slinking into the background. Some making way too much effort, banging the weights, grunting and generally acting like they’re cock of the walk.

 You’re so engrossed with people-watching, you almost jump out your fucking skin when someone yanks the airpod out your left ear, almost sending you arse over tit on the machine.

 “Shit” you mutter, hands grappling the handles.

 With a sour expression, Aemond pulls the airpod to his ear, frowning at the music.

 “80’s music. Really?”

 Your expression turns bitter pretty much as this dickhead opens his mouth. Briefly scanning him, he appears to be wearing the same kind of outfit. What fucking cartoon character behaviour is this?

 Yanking the airpod out his hand, you put it back in its case quickly, trying to hide the way your face heats up when you see how his hair is now and around his shoulders. Doubly so when his arms raise above his head to pull it into a bun in the middle of his head to get it off his neck.

 Bonk. Stop it. This guy’s a dick. If I‘m thirsting over my personal trainer, maybe Baela is right and it’s time to get out there and get laid.

 He gets onto the other stairmaster next to you and you try your best to ignore him. That is until he reaches over and adjusts the level on yours to go up to 10, as if you can’t do it yourself. A flash of annoyance passes your face and you swat his hand away.

 “I can do it myself, you know”

 He raises his eyebrows, victorious as if he’d wanted a reaction from you the moment he stepped in.

 “Tetchy” he muses.

 As he starts the same warmup, annoyingly faring better than you and barely out of breath, he doesn’t make another attempt to speak.

 “Busy day then” you say, startling him by speaking.

 He looks at you like he was just expecting you to be weirdly quiet the entire time.

 “What”

 “You were late”

 He raises his eyebrows, taken aback by the sudden conversation. But as swiftly as he looked over he turns away, “Family emergency”

 You furrow your brows, “Should you even be here if it’s a family emergency?”

 Aemond sighs, as if resigned from the conversation already.

 Well fuck me then I guess.

 The silence falls between you for a while and once your time is up, you hit ‘stop’ on the machine and go to the water fountain to fill up your water bottle. God it’s so difficult to even make small talk with the guy. As frustratingly attractive as he is, he’s not making it easy to get on with him.

 You screw the lid on the water bottle, adjusting the sports bra slightly and take a long sip, briefly looking behind you to see if he is still on the stairmaster. And he is. Staring right at you with that indifferent, stoic look. But as soon as your eyes meet, he looks down at his feet, stopping the machine.

 Was he staring at me?

 You can feel your cheeks burn with embarrassment the closer he gets, on the basis of filling up his own water bottle, suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious in just your black sports bra and leggings.

 Stretches, first. If you can get through this it’ll be fine.

 They go relatively smoothly.

 You say relatively…

 …you’re staring at him the entire time, stealing glances where you know you shouldn’t. A few times he nearly catches you, so you internally scold yourself for staring too much. But you can’t really help it, especially with the big fuck off mirror in front of you.

 “60 second plank, go” he orders flatly.

 You get into position on your elbows, ignoring the way he’s looking over your form. If you think about it too much you really might have to bonk yourself.

 As he kneels there watching, you freeze, feeling his large hand softly on your lower back, pushing slightly.

 “Don’t arch your back too much”

 He pushes more on your lower back, dangerously close to your ass, which only makes your upper arms shudder even more than they already are.

 His hand smoothes up your spine to your shoulders, resting in between them.

 “Relax your shoulders for me”

 Fucking helllll…

 It’s weirdly intimate and sinful, lustful thoughts are beginning to sneak into your brain.

 Stop, stop, stop.

 Be professional.

 But his hands are so big. Slender long fingers running up your spine which makes you swallow thickly. And the way he said ‘for me’ is not helping at all in the slightest.

 The last thirty seconds feel like fucking years, and even once he’s taken his hand away, pleased at your corrected form, you feel it. The way his hand felt. How it burns hot even now he’s taken it away. You can practically memorise where they were, and wondered how they would feel between your th-

 STOP IT.

 The timer goes off and you’ve never been more relieved that it’s over.

 “Squats next”

 Oh Jesus.

 They’re not much better. You already feel dumb doing squats with someone watching, but he’s watching so intensely, hands on hips that it’s just distracting.

 “Deeper”

 You meet his eyes in the mirror, face betraying the sinful thoughts you’re having.

 “Excuse me?”

 He raises an eyebrow, his eyes flitting over your flushed expression.

 “You need to squat deeper”

 Oh…

 You’re halfway through them when he approaches from behind, extending one foot out between yours to kick your legs further apart. His knee grazes your thigh and you think you might actually die. Because even though he’s just correcting your stance, it felt so intimate the way he just kicked them apart like that without saying anything.

 You look at him in the mirror but he’s still observing your body as you squat and you find your line of sight has diverged to below his waistline (for some reason) searching for something underneath his black sweatpants. That is until his eye flicks up to meet yours in the mirror in front of you, and feeling cornered, you flit your gaze away.

 Is it hot in here?

 “3 more”

 And there it is. The sour way he speaks. It’s amazing how just a few words can dull the spark so quickly.

 His phone buzzes in his pocket and he seems to somehow go even more sour when he sees who’s calling.

“Sorry, just need to take this” he mumbles, already with the phone to his ear as he rounds the corner.

 Once out of sight, you adjust the straps of your sports bra, visibly flustered. What the fuck is wrong with me, get it together. That’s it, as soon as I get home I’m downloading that stupid dating app again.

 You absolutely cannot think of him this way. You’re paying him as your personal trainer, it’s wrong to think of him this way. And on top of that, he’s an all round dick. One word answers, being generally rude and condescending. God, how can a man with looks like that be such an unbelievable twat and manage to keep clients?

 He’s gone for a bit longer than you imagined, so instead you go to the leg press, sitting down and pulling out your phone. Opening your browser was a dangerous one, the last tab you had open was a sex toy website. Luckily nobody is behind you, but it still piques your interest. Maybe you should buy more, for the horny, out of control woman you seem to have become.

 “Looking good, sweetheart”

 Oh lord. You recognise that voice.

 Dread pools in your gut as you look up and click off your phone. Your fucking ex is right there, leaning against the machine with that smug look on his face. You pull the most hateful expression you can muster.

 “What do you want”

 He has the audacity to shrug, “Can’t I say hello?”

 “No”

 “Oh, come on baby”

 “Do not call me that” you warn him, eyes blazing with hatred, “Save it for your girlfriend, whatever her fucking name is”

 “Girlfriend?”

 “Yeah, the one plastered all over my feed” you say sarcastically, pretending to fiddle around with the weights, knowing full well you can only leg press 18kg.

 He smirks victoriously, revelling in the fact you’ve not blocked him yet.

 “We’re not together”

 “Oh, that didn’t take long” you put on a sickly sweet voice, dripping with sarcasm, “so what, you think you can just come crawling back to me?”

 He doesn't answer that, he simply lets his eyes rake over you in the outfit you have one and says, “you look really good”

 “Thanks, now piss off”

 “You won’t even get a drink with me, baby?” he asks, trying to seem sweet.

 “If you call me baby one more ti-”

 “Can I help you?”

 Aemond’s stern voice makes the man jump and he looks behind him, smiling nervously. Aemond stands, hands in pockets, looking down at him like he’s shit at the bottom of his shoe. Briefly, his gaze flits over to you, seeing how annoyed and uncomfortable you are with his presence.

 Your ex gives him a once over and brushes past him, but not before sending you a, “See you around” before disappearing into the furthest side of the gym.

 Gag.

 Aemond looks behind him, making sure he’s out of sight before looking back.

 “Was he bothering you” he asks flatly.

 You scoff, “It was that obvious?” you reply sarcastically.

 Aemond asks no further questions than that, allowing him to surmise the situation for himself. He looks off into the direction your ex went, his tongue poking at his cheek in what looks like annoyance. Tearing your eyes away from his gorgeous profile once again, you adjust the weight to 18kg and get your legs in position. The horizontal leg press was a lot more beginner friendly, so you pull your legs in front of you against the plate.

 Aemond watches for a second, squatting beside you while you adjust in the seat, eyes rolling over your form. If he was being handsy before, that’s nothing compared to what he does now. He clasps his large hands around your leg, pulling them apart slowly so that your feet are shoulder width apart on the plate. But he keeps his hand there for longer than you anticipated, which makes you swallow thickly, face quickly heating up again.

 He looks up at you, “You need to spread your legs a bit more” he instructs lowly, his eyes trained on yours as he says it.

 You feel like you’re staring at his mouth, really analysing what he’s said. The connotations aren’t lost on you, and a familiar flutter blossoms in your belly. Clearing your throat, you start the set, trying your best to not look at him and just focus. Your clothes feel too tight and the air feels too hot. Electrified, as if a current could be passed between you both. Hands grip tightly onto the handles.

 He scoffs, reaching right over you to adjust the weights, “You can do better than that”. Even his voice seems to have changed and he’s so close you can smell whatever detergent he must use for his clothes, it makes you stay frozen in your spot. Now being able to see every little detail of his face, his arm so close to brushing against your sports-bra clad chest. Your brain feels like it’s made of cotton as your breathing shallows.

 He changes the weight to 30kg and watches you as you carry on with the set quietly. The weight isn’t bad in itself, you’re just not used to it, so your legs start to shake and your chest starts to flush with a soft sheen of sweat. Feeling a bit embarrassed about the shaky legs and the fact that he’s so insistently watching you makes you want to disappear into a hole in the ground.

 “Struggling?” he smirks.

 He smirks. The bastard smirks.

 You give him a look, but as much as you try, it’s not as icy as before, betraying how you’re really feeling right now. But if he sees it behind your eyes, he doesn’t let it show on his face.

 The bastard’s doing this on purpose.

 It’s not even the fact he’s doing it that makes you mad. It’s how easy it seems to be.

 He takes his hand away, obviously very pleased at what he’s done.

 You try to work through the last 3 reps.

 “Such a good girl for me”

 Your cheeks burn scarlet, your whole body is hot as you look over at him in shock. But he’s looking at you so casually.

 “What”

 He smirks again, raising his eyebrows, “I said just one more for me’”

 You just do the last one as quickly as possible, brushing past him with lightning speed to gather your belongings. The weights land back with a loud clunk. You are certain you’re going mad, feeling the sweat cool on your skin as you stuff your things in your bag.

 “You ok?” he asks with mirth in his tone. You don’t look back and nod your head quickly, just knowing that he’s right behind you with his stupidly large frame, stupid toned legs, stupid sexy arms, stupid long fingers, stupid stupid smile.

 “Yep, fine” you blabber it out quicker than you can think and try and change the subject, “Hope the family emergency is…okay”

 It comes out more awkwardly than you intended. Aemond only huffs a laugh through his nose. He’s not been this…weirdly friendly since the first time you both met.

 “My Dad’s dead but yeah”

 Your heart freezes instantly, and you break whatever promise you’d made and look at him. He looks very casual about it, hands in pockets, as if it’s just a minor inconvenience. Trying to keep your expression neutral.

 “Oh”

 There’s a bit of a quiet moment between you both as he raises his eyebrows.

 “Impressive” he says, making you send him a quizzical look.

 “What is?”

 He licks his lips, smirking at your confusion, “You didn’t default to ‘Oh, I’m so sorry’”

 He says it jokingly, but you can tell there’s some tension in his voice.

 “Should I?”

 You get the sense that this guy isn’t so often taken off guard, but the question you pose him now seems to and the smirk is wiped off his face, replaced with an unsympathetic expression.

 “No” he answers simply.

 Clearing your throat and throwing your coat on now that the heat of the situation has somewhat dissipated, you inhale deeply, “see you next week”

 His tongue pokes the inside of his cheek again, jaw twitching as his eyes search your face, before scanning you again. That smirk tugs at one side of his lips, making your eyes flit there for a brief moment, admiring their shape as he speaks.

 “See you then”

 You’ve never been more sexually confused in your life you think. So even when the session is over, you just sit in your car, processing it all. Even scrolling through your phone doesn't take your mind off it, reminded by your past search history.

Your flat is weirdly quiet without Baela there, lonely even. For a few hours it makes itself quite useful, as you lay in bed with your current favourite sex toy trying to get these horny thoughts out of your head. But every time you’re close he pops into your head. Jolting you back into the real world.

 He’s a personal trainer, he’s supposed to be hands on. You’re just touch-starved.

 He’s a dick!

 Maybe he’s just cold at first.

 He thinks you’re a weak as fuck, stupid and brainless. Who are you kidding?

 Your brain attempts to make sense of it all.

 After (unintentionally) edging yourself for what feels like hours, your brain and thoughts betray you severely and you orgasm washes over you with a pained and shuddering cry, all while thinking about all the ways he touched you today and what it felt like to have his burning skin on yours for just a moment.

 “Fuck…” you sigh out loud..

 You want to fuck your personal trainer.

 Buzz buzz.

 ‘Hay-Baela’ appears on your phone and you pick up quickly.

 Baela: Evening hoe, how’s things?

Y/n: Fine, just devoured a takeaway.

Baela: Anything nice?

Y/n: Just some Indian food which I’m sure will come back to haunt me.

Baela: Be a shame if it didn’t. How was your session?

Y/n: *sigh* yeah fine, my legs were shaking a bit during leg press though. Had me on 30kg.

Baela: Yeah, Aemond said you did well.

 Wait…what?!

 Y/N: Eh?

Baela: Aemond texted me earlier, said you did good and you were toning up well?

Y/N: Right…

Baela: Anyway, have a good weekend, don’t burn the flat down. Oh, and I’ve got a parcel arriving tomorrow.

Y/N: Wait, Bael-

Baela: Bye!

 The bitch hangs up on you, leaving you in a post-nut haze, confused and somehow more horny than when you started.

The fucker must be doing this on purpose.

“Fuck!”

Taglist (bold couldn’t tag): @mrsgrwy @lovelykhaleesiii @urmomsgirlfriend1 @iiamthehybrid @namelesslosers @chainsawsangel @warmfieldofgrass @mynameisbaby9 @afro-hispwriter​ @tempo-rary-fix @toodlesxcuddles @definitelynotsatans​ @svtansdaddyx​ @tssf-imagines​ @darkenchantress​ @vrtualfairy​ @fan-goddess​ @skikikikiikhhjuuh​ @helaenaluvr​ @sarahkimtae​ @blackxisxmyxcolour​ @castellomargot​ @girlwith-thepearlearring​ @julczimozart​ @amazingdisneyfansblog​ @slutforaemond

#aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond smut #aemond x you #aemond fic #aemond fanfiction #aemond one eye #aemond fluff #modern aemond targaryen x reader #modern!aemond targaryen #modern!aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x modern!reader #modern!aemond #modern!aemond smut #modern!aemondtargaryen #modern!hotd #aemond stannies #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen smut

[saelestia]

snow man | g. satoru

cw. gn reader, no mentions of gender, readers shorter than gojo. (implied) readers a bit of a perfectionist here, and goes the extra mile to achieve the perfect snowman, fluff, dating au, gn reader, reader insults gojo's art skills, snowballs being thrown, overal romantically romantic, helpessly romantic, satoru is love sick, its cold, snow, mentions of reader taking a picture, satoru and reader use petnames, "love, lovely maybe even baby", not proofread, mentions of yuuji and nobara

it's not far into december, far enough for the sun to set as early as 5pm, for the breezy mornings trying to get to work, the huge puffer jackets you drag out of storage. december is the month of great things, the holidays, the snow, snuggling up in front of a warm toasty fire, december was the month where you could cuddle satoru extra hard without him teasing you half to death about it. it was also the season for when you'd drag him into your shared backyard to build a snowman. every year, something had gone wrong with the snowman, this year, it needed to be perfect. 3 years ago, you and satoru forgot the snowman's long carrot nose, and made the mistake of making the snowman over a heap of grass, leaving brown and green chunks of dirt, and grass from the ground to build up into the snowman. 2 years ago, after achieving the snowman, it melted the next day, and the prior year, yuuji and nobara crushed it after having a fight in the yard. this year had to be perfect.

"satoru!" you call out, satoru follows the sound of your voice to the backdoor, where you help him into his jacket. "y'know i don't need this, right lovely?" he questions. you peer up at him, "i know, but i'd rather have you outside in a jacket, makes more sense in my head. put on your winter boots, scarf and mittens too." you pat his shoulder, swinging open the back door as you find the perfect spot to make your snowman. "i plowed the grass, and placed slates over the dirt before winter,so there should be no way any gross stuff goes inside the snowman!" you yell out, happily. "well, lets start then?" satoru says, as he begins forming a miniature ball of snow, packing it together before rolling it in the ground to build up its size. "dont forget to round it 'toru!" you state from the corner of the backyard, you're starting the second snowball, this one acting as a torso for the other larger snowball, carrying it towards gojo, you wait for him to finish smoothing out the bottom snowball before you place it on top. "woo!" you smile, giving him a high five at the achievement, he smiles back, making a comment of how "teamwork makes the dreamwork," in which you cackle at. "you're so silly, satoru--" you take what you say immediatly back as a snowball collides with your chest, knocking you onto the ground with a yelp. the only thing registering in your head is 1. a snowball just hit you, and 2. satoru's laughing.

in a fit of faux anger, you roll up a snowball, nice and tight, and launch it at satoru. "god, satoru this is so unfair! your six eyes make you practically invincible" you mumble out, when the snowball, instead of colliding with gojo, just hits his barrier while he cackles in response, you huff, moving to begin the final, smallest snowball for the top layer of your snowman-in the making. you fall to your knees in the snow, first, you hand satoru the rock for the eyes, while you work on attaching the carrot nose. "how does it look, lovely?" he questions, you draw your attention to the snowmans face, "for the strongest, art really isnt your strong suit." you mumble out jokingly, you catch a glimpse of his jaw hung open wide while he complains about you being a meanie. "you're so mean! how dare you say that about my masterpiece?!" he says, in faux shock. "we'll keep the face, drama queen" you say, your tounge poking out as you place the scarf you stole off of satorus neck onto the snowman. "baby what about me!! what if i get cold, hm??" he questions, pouting. "i thought you were the strongest, hm 'toru?" you question as he snuggles into your embrace. "weak to my knees for you love." he mumbles, his voice deepened, your stomach swarmed with butterflies, and despite feeling hot on the inside, your skin was as cold as night.

"... perfect!" you breath out, satoru turns his attention to the snow man, he realizes, it resembles someone awfully familiar. "is that supposed to be me!?" he questions, half offended. "yeah! even got a wig for it." you laugh, adjusting the snowmans wig as gojo's expression faltered. "this is so NOT funny." he grumbles. "stopp, its so cute, i did your hair so perfect, and you set up the face to match yours perfectly!" you laugh, your breath leaving clouds of smoke as you speak. you pull your phone out of your pocket, snap a picture of the snowman, then usher him to crouch alongside the snowman. "pose with your doppelganger, satoru!" you smile, and he's so allured by your smile, he cant help but smile, and pose for you. "ooh, im cold, lets head inside now?" you question, shimmying to warm up, as satoru, holds his gloved hand in yours. "sure thing lovely."

bonus ; you wake up the next morning, going outside to check on your snowman gojo, and beside it, resides a snowman that resembles you. "satoru!" you yell, he smiles, plummeting out the door, "pose with your doppleganger, love!" using your own words against you, this time you dont fully mind, you pose with your snowman, before ushering satoru into a picture with you and satoru, and both of your snowmen.

© SAELESTIA 2023. do not repost, translate, or duplicate any of my works here or any other websites. requests open, reblogs r appreciated! <3

#gojo satoru #gojo x reader #satoru gojo x reader #jjk x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo fluff #jjk fluff #gojo satoru fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #gojo satoru x oc #jujustu kaisen #jjk #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen #satoru gojo fluff #satoru gojo #jjk x gn!reader #gojo x gn!reader #gn reader

[icyharrington]

So I Can Get Mine, And You Get Yours (Eddie Munson X Reader)

hayyy so for some reason this fic took me like a million years to write even though it’s short ??? idek lmaoo but anyways this shit is finally done !!! i hope y’all like, once i’m done with this im gonna go back to working on some requests and stuff in my inbox!! and feel free to send any ideas u might have uwu

description: after your weed stash is discovered and confiscated by your parents, you’re desperate for a re-up but are unwilling to spend the extra cash. lucky for you though, eddie munson is willing to work out a deal.

contains: sexual tension, dom!eddie, drug mentions, stoner reader lmao, blowjobs, deepthroating/face fucking, dirty talk, eddie is a slightly perverted yet charming asshole, tha reader sucks dick for weed lmao

wc: 5.1k

tagging: @jargotquinn @wordsaretheonlyescape @ankokubunka @rottnteen @msunravelled @animesnowstorm @send-me-a-cryptid @itsanithemenace @lenora91 @mxh0neylol @reddesert-healourblues @capricornrisingsstuff @i-me-mine @somnobun @harrystylesplschokeme @harringtonfan4 @bimbobaggins69 @sarahgarlic @xxlilyxx90 @daddy-long-legolas @virgovixen89 @manicpixieautismgirl @hahahafucku @stephanie-nicks76 @f-me-reid @winterton-reads @dixontardis @kleinegamerin @bbellee @bohemianrhapsody86 @for-hearthand-home​

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t my most valued and reliable customer,”  Eddie Munson says with an evil grin as the front door of his trailer swings open. He reclines against the doorframe, eyebrows raising in amusement at the sight of you standing there in front of him.

You’re situated on his porch, huddling your arms together beneath your baggy coat as you shiver in the mid-autumn chill. Narrowing your eyeliner-smeared eyes into a glare, you shove your way past him into the gentle warmth of his home.

“Shut up,” you say irritably, which makes Eddie throw his hands up like he’s at gunpoint.

“Just come right in, I guess!” he exclaims, slamming the door shut in your wake to keep out the cold air. Unfazed, you throw yourself back onto the living room couch, ignoring the look of utter annoyance that stretches itself across Eddie’s angular features when you do. “Now that you’re nice and comfy, what the hell do you need?”

As if the chip on his shoulder is unjustified, you let out an offended scoff. Stalling at his question, you will yourself to break contact with Eddie’s gaze. “…Weed.”

Eddie folds his arms in front of his chest, staring you down; he’s wearing a leather jacket with his Hellfire tee underneath, paired with gray-black jeans and combat boots. With the shitty yellow glow of his trailer surrounding him ominously as he looks down on you with near-black eyes, he almost appears intimidating, but in all honesty, you’d be more afraid of a golden retriever than of Eddie Munson in most situations. He likes to play himself off like he’s some kind of unpredictable bad boy, dealing drugs after school and wreaking havoc in the hallways by way of his wild antics, but you’re not stupid, unlike most of the other Hawkins high attendees.

You’ve been regularly buying weed from Eddie for a few months now; once a week you’ll meet him under the staircase at school to purchase a half-ounce, occasionally sticking around for some idle conversation.

He always struck you as a lonely kind of guy- somebody with a lot to say, but nobody to say it to. You’d nod along as he rambled on about his band, or the assholes at school he hated, or Dungeons and Dragons, which you would pretend to understand just to humor him. He was a nice, if not slightly geeky and eccentric dude, and you could never quite understand the fear your classmates harbored for him.

“Ouch, (y/n). And here I was thinking you just wanted to spend some time basking in my presence.” He shakes his head with a click of his tongue, his face contorting into an exaggerated display of devastation. “What the hell happened to the shit I sold you this morning?”

You grit your teeth into a wince, reminded directly of the cause for your bad mood. Flailing back dramatically against the throw pillows beneath you, you flash Eddie a helpless look. “God, don’t even get me started, Eddie.”

“The cops didn’t catch you, did they?” He knits his brows, voice dropping to a concerned whisper as his spindly frame hunches over you. “You didn’t rat me out, did you? My uncle will be so fuckin’ pissed if our trailer gets raided.”

“No. Worse,” you say flatly, stifling a giggle when his dark eyes expand cartoonishly with alarm. “My mom found it.”

You’d made the mistake of tossing the baggie of weed in your sock drawer before heading to your evening shift at the record store, only for your mom to come across it while putting away laundry that evening; when you’d arrived back home later in the night, you found your mother, red-faced and teary, sitting at the kitchen table across from a box of Kleenex and your stash. Blubbering endlessly about life paths and bad influences, any outsider would have assumed she’d caught you lighting a crack pipe redhanded.

He lets out a prolonged exhale in a combination of relief and exasperation, shaking his head at you like a disappointed parent. “And how exactly is that worse?”

“You haven’t met my mom.” You reposition yourself on the couch, sitting upright and crossing your legs in favor of a less unhinged approach. “She’s gonna be on my ass until the end of time now.”

“Sorry, I’m still having trouble seeing how that’s worse than getting raided by the police,” Eddie says, rolling his eyes as he starts towards the hallway, where you assume his bedroom is located. “So what do you want? Another half?”

“That’d be nice,” you say, chewing your lip apprehensively. You decide not to say anything else until he returns with what you want, spreading your hands out on your knees and drumming your fingers restlessly.

You wouldn’t consider yourself a stoner, though you’ve been smoking daily since your sophomore year of high school, after befriending a few punk-obsessed senior kids who introduced you to it; at this point you’re probably semi-dependent on the naturally occurring substance, but you can’t bring yourself to stop- you love the way it makes you feel, all cozy and content, your cheeks aching from smiling at every damn thing you cross paths with.

You know it’s mildly pathetic to have walked all the way to the trailer park after midnight with the sole intent of replenishing your confiscated stash, but you hate the thought of spending a weekend without any weed.

On second thought, maybe you are a stoner.

When Eddie emerges from his bedroom, he’s carrying a twisted-up Ziploc bag, a telltale earthy green shade visible through the transparent plastic. He swings it back and forth as he approaches you in the living room, humming something off-key to go along with his needlessly jaunty strides. “Should I even sell this to you? Kind of a waste to sell if mommy’s just gonna add it with the other contraband.”

“Hey!” You feel your cheeks burn in response to his teasing, which is embarrassing enough of a reaction in itself- why do you care what Eddie Munson thinks, anyway? “She isn’t going to find it this time.”

He examines the bag thoughtfully, holding it above his head so that it catches in the room’s sallow lighting. “I dunno, (y/n). I dunno.”

Eddie’s doing what he does best: putting on a show, and you don’t know if he’s merely acting on his ever-present impulse to behave idiotically, or if he’s purposefully being an asshole- either way, you can feel your patience gradually depleting by the second. “Eddie, seriously- don’t be a dick. I walked all the way here.”

“That was your idea!” he exclaims, visibly dumbfounded by the audacity of your demeanor. “What if I was all out, huh? Then you’d be shit out of luck, wouldn’t you?”

“Well, good thing you’re not,” you say defiantly, extending a hand in between the two of you with an obnoxious grabbing motion. He’s starting to really get on your nerves now, though you assume it’s intended. “Just give it to me, Eddie.”

He acts like he’s going to hand you the bag before he abruptly retreats his arm to loop behind his back, shoving it into his back pocket. “Not so fast. I want my ten dollars.”

Glancing down at your palms in an attempt to avoid Eddie’s expectant stare, you fidget uncomfortably in your seat, before blurting out, “Yeah, could I maybe get it for free? Just this once?”

Eddie lowers his chin towards his chest, his eyebrows raising in disbelief; you force yourself not to look at him, knowing fully well that you’re making a complete ass of yourself right now. “Sorry, I don’t think I quite got that. Did you say free?”

Fuck. Out of all the people you figured you could get free weed from, Eddie seemed the most likely to oblige, but obviously you’d misjudged him. Maybe you do need to cut back on the Mary Jane, because damn- you’re really starting to act like a corner-store crackhead. You’re growing increasingly more embarrassed with every moment Eddie’s dark eyes remain fixed on you, but you’ve already made the journey, so really, there’s no point in backing down now. “Well, yeah. I mean, I didn’t even end up smoking the other shit I bought. My mom probably threw it in the trash.”

Eddie laughs, though you get the impression he’s doing it at you, rather than with you. “Do you think drug dealers come with fuckin’ insurance or something?”

You stifle a frustrated groan, fully realizing the stupidity of your request now that you’re being called out. Still, you refuse to let him catch on to your self-awareness, choosing instead to double down on your argument. “C’mon, Eddie. I only make three-fifteen an hour and I already spent half my paycheck on cassettes.”

“Well, damn, (y/n)! Learn to manage your finances better, then!” He speaks with a lighthearted tone, but his body language communicates a prominent irritation, his arms crossed firmly over his slender midsection. “If I give you weed for free, then I’m going to lose money, and I’m already strapped for cash. Plus, if word got out that I gave you a freebie- I’d have a whole line of desperate potheads begging outside my door instead of just one.”

You gasp at the bluntness of his remark, huffing out when you can’t think of anything clever to come back with. “I wouldn’t tell anyone you gave it to me for free. I swear.”

“Like I said- I’m too broke to be giving away goddamn goody bags,” Eddie snaps, angling his head to glance not-so-subtly at the front door, before flashing back to assess your flushed face. “I know you probably thought I’d cave at the sight of a pretty girl at my doorstep since I’m a freak who gets no female attention and all that, but I’m sorry to tell you that I actually run my business with integrity.”

The whole of Eddie’s statement blindsides you, and you find yourself blinking wildly as your mind races to process it; he’d just called you pretty, to your face, as matter-of-fact as reciting the alphabet. You can only pray that your complexion doesn’t redden too drastically as you feel your cheeks prickle and flush, but you somehow carry on, feigning indifference to the best of your ability. “You’re a drug dealer, dude. I don’t think there’s any way you can do that with integrity.”

“You can think whatever you like, sweetheart,” Eddie says as he taps your shoulder twice, signaling you to get up, which you do, albeit reluctantly. Once you’re back on your feet, you’re reminded of your height difference, though it had never really crossed your mind in the past; perhaps it’s your close proximity to him that makes it seem so much more conspicuous now, with Eddie looking down on you- literally- from mere inches away. “My answer is still absolutely fuckin’ not.”

“It’s just ten dollars worth of weed!” you yell, not unlike a child being denied a balloon in a grocery store.

“If it’s just ten dollars, why can’t you pay me, huh?”

He bows his head so that his dark, frizzy hair curtains either side of his angular face, shrugging nonchalantly, despite the pride that you can see gleaming within the mischievous blackness of his eyes. Check-fucking-mate.

It dawns on you that you’re probably just going to have to accept not getting your way, and you pout, giving up on trying to convince him. “Because I’m broke.”

“Well, so am I!” He looks at you like you’re out of your mind, and you can almost agree with him, though you’d never say so out loud. During the resulting lapse of awkward silence, you can see him start to ponder something, his mouth screwing up in earnest thought until his tone eventually shifts.“Y’know, if you showed up at any other dealer’s house at this time of night with no money, they’d probably think you were coming to fuck them for drugs.”

Your mouth drops open, and for once, you’re genuinely speechless. The worst part, however, is that he has a valid point- you really are acting like someone trying to whore themselves out for drugs, aren’t you?

“Oh, come on, (y/n). Don’t look at me like you have no idea what I’m talking about.” He chuckles, his eyes dropping to briefly scan you over. You’re not wearing anything scandalous, despite the self-consciousness that floods your body as he surveys you- just your thrifted jeans and an oversize corduroy jacket, hardly the appropriate attire for drug prostitution.

“Um, ew?” you manage to retort, stepping backwards until your calves are pressed up against the couch. There isn’t much space available for you to create any meaningful distance between the two of you, so you’ll just have to settle for the time being. “I totally did not come here to fuck you for weed, you pervert.”

“Oh, so I’m a pervert now for pointing out the obvious,” Eddie says, his hands splaying out theatrically in front of him. “I’m just saying what it looks like, not that I want you to! Jeez!”

You scoff without really thinking, insulted. “Oh, so if I did offer you something in return, you’re saying you’d turn me down?”

Eddie just looks at you with a perplexed expression, before his lips twitch upwards at the corners, giving way to a self-assured smirk. There’s a devious glint in his eyes that you’re not familiar with, and when you peer back up at him, your body inadvertently shifts and squirms. “Not necessarily.”

You attempt to back away but can’t, seeing that you’re cornered up against the couch with nowhere to go. The air is somehow thicker now, more tense, and there’s an invisible hum of electricity that gnaws at your fingertips; it’s like you’re frozen, your limbs stiff and unresponsive, and you gulp, hyper-aware of the sudden tilt in atmosphere.

Eddie’s smirk intensifies as he witnesses your bad attitude slip away, your disposition no longer bold, but trembling and timid. “I don’t normally accept trade offers in the form of sexual favors, but hey, maybe if you ask really nicely, I’ll consider it.”

“Fuck you.” The words come out immediately, desperate to mask  your humiliation with some sort of vitriolic statement, but the effect isn’t what you were hoping for; your voice shakes weakly, and there’s no punch to it, no bite to let him know who he’s messing with. “I would never fuck you, for weed or any other reason. You’re creepy and a freak.”

You’re a bit guilty for getting so nasty with him, but at this point you’ll do anything to prevent your pride from enduring any more blows. Eddie just poises a brow skeptically, cocking his head to one side. “Yeah, I’m so much of a creep that you felt safe coming to my house in the middle of the night to beg for pot, isn’t that right?”

“I wasn’t fucking begging you!” You stomp your foot to accentuate your point, though it just comes off like you’re throwing a tantrum.

“Right- you were just asking persistently, then,” Eddie quips, growing more smug with each second that passes while you cower. “You’re reaaaallllly digging a hole for yourself right now, aren’tcha, sweetheart?”

“Whatever,” you say flatly, finally gathering the courage to step out of Eddie’s way, awkward in your movements as you shuffle toward the front door. “A simple no would’ve sufficed, but I guess being a douchebag works too.”

You’re taken aback when he stops you, his long, jewelry-clad fingers wrapping loosely around your upper arm. There’s a friendlier appearance about him now, and you figure he’s trying to ease up on the intimidation. “Hey, c’mon! I didn’t tell you no, remember? I just said you’d have to ask me nicely.”

You jerk your arm back, scowling, even though your heartbeat inexplicably quickens when he touches you. “Yeah, you said that about me fucking you for weed, and that’s not happening.”

“Why’re you so shy all of a sudden, huh?” he asks, moving beside you to snake an arm around your shoulders. You can smell the cigarette smoke that clings to the inky leather of his jacket as you catch yourself inhaling deeply, and this time, you don’t pull away. “You’re saying you don’t want this?”

He retrieves the half-ounce of weed from his pocket, dangling it above your head like bait. Eddie’s weed isn’t even that good- there’s more seeds and stems than actual flower, and you have to smoke a whole joint’s worth to even feel anything, but damn, do you want it. There’s just something special about his supply, something that caused you to stop buying from all the other dealers in Hawkins and focus your business loyalty solely on him. You give the weed a purposefully-indifferent side-eye, commenting, “What happened to you being too broke to give away free shit?”

“See, hon, it isn’t actually free if I get something in return.” He leans closer to speak directly into your ear, giving you goosebumps when he uses one hand to sweep your hair out of the way. “I like you, (y/n). Like I said- you’re a valued customer. That’s why I’d be willing to work out a deal for you.”

He talks like a Wall Street broker closing in on a deal, which you’d probably laugh at, if you weren’t so fucking nervous. You don’t know what to make of the events that unfold before you like a scene in a bad porno, but you still have a hard time believing that Eddie Munson is actually trying to seduce you right now; part of you wonders if he’s putting on a show in an attempt to teach you a lesson for intruding on his space. “I already told you, Eddie. I didn’t come here to fuck you.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re too good for all of that trashy nonsense,” he deadpans, rubbing your shoulder in circles with his callused palm. “Pretty girls like you should never give more than a blowjob for some Mary Jane. Right, princess?”

It’s like you’ve just taken a blow to the stomach, with the way his words knock the wind out of you; you quickly turn your head to hide the unmistakeable rosiness that blooms across your cheeks, although the effort is futile. “I- I didn’t say that.”

“C’mon, babe. You really think I believe that you came all the way here just to ask me for a little favor?” He gives your shoulder a condescending pat, chuckling at your efforts to evade him. “You knew exactly what you were doing.”

Had you known what you were doing, at least in your subconscious? It wasn’t like you’d put much thought into your plan before carrying it out, but what if there was an ulterior motive you weren’t even aware of? Are you really so disconnected from yourself that you’d be this clueless to your own intentions?

The way your body reacts to his closeness, however, tells you that Eddie “the freak” Munson has a profound affect on you, perhaps on a far deeper level than you know.

“Sure, if that’s what you wanna believe,” you say dismissively as you place one hand on your hip, regaining a bit of your cool exterior to scan his face over in search of any sign that he’s fucking with you. He appears entertained by your flustered state, but there’s also an earnest look behind his dark eyes, signaling to you that he’s down if you’re down. “But if you wanted me to blow you in exchange for the weed, you could’ve just asked.”

“You’re the one who’s gonna need to ask me, sweetheart. I’m giving you a pretty good deal, don’t ya think?” He bats his lashes mockingly at you, apparently in the mood to drag this little power play out for as long as possible; you can tell it’s turning him on, just from how quick and sharp his breathing is becoming.

As much as you hate yourself for it, you’re turned on, too, with an aching warmth making itself known between your shifting legs; logically, you know you should be ashamed for partaking in such a degrading activity, but physically? Well, that’s a different story altogether.

“Fine, if it helps boost your ego,” you mutter, shocked with yourself for even retaining the ability to speak. You try to keep your words straightforward and unemotional, managing an even “can I blow you for weed, Eddie?”

He looks at you like you’re stupid, letting go of his hold around your shoulder as he drops to sit down on the couch. “I, uh, think you might’ve forgotten something there, (y/n).”

Rolling your eyes, you watch as he unbuckles his belt noisily, leaning back against the throw pillows expectantly. He’s really having fun with this, isn’t he?

“Can I please blow you for weed?” you say through a pained wince, causing a triumphant grin to spread across his face as he continues to undo the front of his pants. Your question is ridiculous, pathetic even, but it’s music to his ears, his head falling back to let out a whoop of obnoxious laughter.

By now, you’re almost positive that this treatment is payback for calling him a freak, and while you probably deserve it, you can’t help but resent him for being an asshole anyway.

“See? Now, was that so fuckin’ difficult?” Eddie chides, eyeing you expectantly as he pulls his jeans and boxers partly down his thighs, exposing himself to you. He’s almost fully hard, and it’s evident that he’s packing a lot more than you ever would’ve guessed, with his thick, flushed length curving gently to one side. You sink onto the floor in front of him, wedging your way between his parted knees so that you’re face-to-face with his hefty dick, which is big enough that you’re actually intimidated by it. “Well, I guess since I’m in such a good mood, I’ll allow it. ”

He puts the bag of weed on the couch next to him, to provide with a good view of what you’re sucking him off for.

“You’re such an asshole,” you murmur, getting into a position where your mouth can reach him. You pretend to be fixated by the view of your own fingers taking hold of his cock, refusing to find out what sort of cocky expression is painted across his angled features.

“Yeah, yeah. I can act however I want,” he says while winding his fingers through your (h/c) hair, not implementing any real force to his grip just yet. “My house, my weed, my rules.”

“Whatever you say, dungeon master,” you say wryly, winking at him as you permit some saliva to dribble from your mouth and onto his cock, which twitches in response to your tongue-in-cheek nickname. You close your mouth around his leaking tip and suck on it lazily, your eyes heavy-lidded as they look up to drink in his admittedly pretty features.

“Yeah, that’s a good fuckin’ girl. You gotta earn it,” he encourages, his hand settling on the back of your head, still entwined with your hair. “D’you do this with all the dealers? Huh?”

You glare up at him resentfully, dipping your head to take him further into your mouth, his skin smooth and salty as you run your tongue along one of his prominent blue-green veins.

Taking advantage of the fact that he has a tight grasp on you, Eddie pushes your head down all the way until you’re gagging on him, causing you to move your hands to splay over his thighs; after a brief moment admiring you as you squirm, he moves you back several inches in a gesture of mercy. “Fuck. Yeah, you want it bad, don’t you? Fucking burnout slut.”

The harshness of his tone causes your head to spin, your panties soaked completely through; you’re sure he can sense how much you like it, because he jerks your head back down until your face is nearly flush with his pelvis once again.

“Must’ve smoked all your brain cells away if you thought you could pull one over on me,” he continues, and although you can’t see his face, you can practically hear the smirk within his voice. He lets up, allowing you the opportunity to bob your head freely up and down his thick cock, sputtering and drooling as you do so.

Hissing, he administers a sharp tug to your scalp, resting his head back as you explore him with your hot, needy mouth; his jaw is unhinged, giving way to a string of profane grunts, hips rocking up beneath you to make contact with the back of your narrow throat.

“Fuck, babe. Yeah, that’s it.” He uses your hair as reigns, guiding your motions to better suit his liking. You’re rendered temporarily speechless, your only sounds being the crude wet noise of your mouth being filled and fucked. “Goddamn, your mouth feels so fuckin’ good.”

The sound of his praise only fuels your avid movements, your fingernails digging through the denim of his jeans, clinging helplessly to him. You purr when he affectionately strokes you from your forehead to the base of your skull, the heavy metal of his rings assisting to cool your feverish skin. “Fuuuck, (y/n). Keep going.”

Doing as he says, you make an effort to take his cock all the way into your throat, peering up from underneath a veil of mascara-coated eyelashes. Eddie’s eyes are closed as he’s enveloped in your inflicted ecstasy, but they flutter open momentarily to meet yours, giving you a goofy half-smile when he notices you. He only abandons his douchey persona for a lapse before swiftly getting back into character, bucking his hips up fiercely into your mouth.

He rolls himself on your face, relishing in the sounds you make, the vibrations reverberating throughout his bottom half. You focus on taking your air in through your nose, ushering shallow gulps of oxygen that are only effective in keeping you from passing out.

“Gotta swallow it all if you really wanna earn it,” he groans, voice hoarse and gravelly. “You gonna do that for me, princess?”

He yanks your head off of his length, and you cough as spit strings rudely from your swollen lips, tears spilling out from the corners of your eyes. He waits for your composure to return, pursing his lips impatiently until you’re done wheezing.

“Yes, Eddie,” you say weakly, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand, completely forgetting that you’re wearing dark mascara (not that you looked any more polished beforehand). He basks in your disheveled appearance, petting your cheek and using his thumb to rid your face of tears, seeming drunk off the sight of you.

“Good girl.” He stands up from his spot on the couch, bringing you into an upright kneeling position by the root of your hair. Obediently, you open your mouth up for him, lolling your head back so he can slide himself deep. “Gonna make me- fuck- cum so hard, baby.”

You go limp as he fucks your face, enjoying the defenseless sensation of being used so carelessly. The arousal is loud and unrelenting as it burns through your core, your thighs squeezing together, needing friction. God, why the fuck had you only offered to blow him?

Eddie’s stomach flexes beneath the cotton of his shirt, and you know he’s about to climax, his head tilted back to fixate on the chipped ceiling. “Shit. Open your mouth.”

Once again, you’re taken off of his cock, which he angles above you, one hand working at his glistening length while the other holds you still.

It only takes a few more strokes before he’s releasing his hot cum into your waiting mouth, adorning the back of your throat with heavy ropes of white. Just like you promised, you swallow it all down with a slutty grin, licking your lips as you shrug your shoulders coyly.

“Holy fuck. Never woulda guessed that (y/n) (y/l/n) is a fuckin’ whore,” he laughs breathlessly, tucking himself back into his boxers and buttoning his jeans. He motions with his head to the half-ounce that still sits untouched on his couch, his fingers hastily buckling up his sturdy black belt. “That’s all yours, babe. I think you earned it.”

“Glad you think so,” you say with a sardonic raise of your brows, snatching up your prize and stuffing it into the inner pocket of your jacket like he might change his mind at any second. “So I guess this is when you tell me to get the fuck out?”

Eddie double-checks that is buckle is properly secured before squinting at you incredulously, seemingly put off by your suggestion. “Are you fuckin’ crazy? You think I’m gonna send you walking off into the night for any hillbilly with a van to snatch you off the side of the road?”

“Eddie, you are a hillbilly with a van.” You fold your arms in front of your chest, somewhat bashful at his sudden protectiveness.

“I am not a goddamn hillbilly, (y/n),” he protests, patting himself down until he hears the faint jingle of his keys from his coat pocket. “Y’know, I could always take my offer back if you’re going to be ungrateful.”

“Yeah, I don’t think so.” You hug your jacket tighter around you, a challenging expression situating itself over your features as you fight to stand your ground. “What, you think I’m your little slut now or something? I don’t need you to protect me, Eddie. This was a one time thing.”

“No, stupid,” he says as he slides his ring of keys into view. “It’s called not wanting to find your missing poster plastered all around town tomorrow morning. I’d be a piece of shit to let you go, blowjob or otherwise.”

“Whatever,” you mutter bitterly, tucking your hands into the corduroy material of your oversize jacket. “Just remember that this isn’t happening again.”

“Which part? You blowing me for weed, or just hanging out with me at my trailer?” He slips his hand around your waist as he walks you to the door, a hopeful ring to his words.

You stifle a grin, leaning into his shoulder unintentionally. “I’d hardly call what just happened hanging out.”

“Yeah, well. Maybe we can some time, yeah?”

It’s difficult to ignore the way your insides twist, your heart thundering wildly into your ribcage, threatening to break loose. Eddie Munson has successfully charmed you, a feat you never would have thought possible until now, but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing it just yet.

Curving your lips into an inhibited smirk, you blink at him sweetly. “Yeah. Maybe.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fic #joseph quinn #stranger things #stranger things smut #stranger things x reader #eddie munson imagine #stranger things imagine #mine #stranger things x you #stranger things fanfiction

[so-long-soldier-writes]

New Year's Kiss

kai parker x reader

summary: it's tradition for new year's to start with a kiss... just like it's tradition to kiss under a mistletoe. and unfortunately, as traditional as mystic falls is, there's no way out but through

tags: holidays / holiday party, kissing, crushes, mutual pining, kai vs his feelings, soft!kai

word count: 1.4k

a/n: this is a stupid, cheesy, short piece i wanted to write up for the new year. my brain's tired and i highly doubt i'll make it to midnight 💤 (i didn't sleep last night) cheers! 🥂

The minute you walk into the Salvatores’ kitchen, Caroline makes a friendly joke. “Are you gonna share a New Years’ kiss with your mistletoe buddy, Y/N?” 

You feel your face get hot immediately. “I’m not planning on kissing anyone to be honest with you.”

“Aw, but it’s tradition!” Damon enters, holding two bottles of bourbon. “Even if your partner sucks.”

You and Caroline both give him a side-eye. “Be nice,” the blonde says. “But he is partially right, Y/N, it’s tradition. And good luck for the new year.”

“I thought that part only applied to couples.”

“You never know.”

Her vague response has you raising an eyebrow, but she gives no further explanation. Her attention is then taken away by more arriving guests. 

“Be honest,” Damon whispers to you, “was he at least a good kisser?”

“I’m not telling you that!”

“Fine, keep your secrets! I’ll find out, eventually, either way.”

“Just…” your eyes land on Caroline’s unattended cookies, “go away!”

“Ooookay! See you later, Y/N.”

Truth is, Kai was a great kisser. One of the most skilled you’ve ever had. But that was a one time thing, and an accident, might you add. He just happened to be standing under the stupid mistletoe, and you just happen to also walk under it to pass by him. But of course you lingered a little too long to give him a smile, and Elena shouted across the room to point out the green, hanging plant above your heads. 

And the girls of Mystic Falls, deep rooted in tradition, practically begged you to kiss. Kai’s face was red with blush, but you bet it was more embarrassment than anything. You were wracked with nerves and probably shaking. Still, you think you both pulled it off well. His lips were much softer than you had expected, as were his hands as they cupped your face. He was uncharacteristically gentle, and smiled at you afterwards. You had your hands on his chest and hoped you were at least half as good. 

Neither of you spoke after, but he did wink at you on his way out the door that night. Or maybe it was a blink… you’re not sure. 

Regardless, you don’t mean to repeat the incident. Especially not during another one of Caroline’s holiday parties. 

Because while you loved kissing Kai, it totally ruined everything. You’ve had a crush on him for weeks but have been too shy to say anything. And everyone knows carefully-watched holiday kisses are never a good start to anything more. 

You sigh, then stuff a third cookie in your mouth. 

“I’d be careful if I were you,” comes Kai’s voice out of nowhere.

You startle, jumping, and hitting your knee on the cabinet door below you. “Shit, you scared me.”

“Sorry.” He nods to the cookies. “Caroline left those out in the open? Bold move.”

“I have to run when I see her coming back.”

“Oh you definitely will. Especially when she sees how many are missing.” He pops one in his own mouth. “Y’know… I don’t even know how I get invited to these types of things.”

“Caroline’s all about bringing people together for the holidays.”

“I see. Well, see you around, Y/N.” This time, he winks and you’re sure it’s a wink. Your knees almost buckle. 

“You too.”

For the majority of the night, you manage to avoid Kai. The two of you seem to make laps around the snack table; he stands by it for a good ten minutes, then migrates, and you go stand by it for a while. The whole night, you will yourself to talk to him, but can’t find the confidence. Instead, you lurk from afar, feeling your heart speed up when he smiles, feeling a twinge of sadness when he’s alone. 

At eleven thirty, the energy in the mansion seems to rise by ten percent. Sounds and streamers fill the air on top of the already loud voices. Whoever isn’t still talking is dancing in the living room. To the left, Bonnie’s pushing the couch off the edge of the carpet for more room. Elena, meanwhile, has the remote and turns up the tv a few dials. Everyone’s engaged, even Stefan, who was falling asleep a couple minutes ago, but then was forced to his feet by Caroline. 

Celebration carries onto the ball dropping before you know it. The ten second countdown has begun and the shouts to find partners grow aggressive. You try to shrink into the corner, waving at Caroline to turn her gaze from you. 

7…

6…

5…

A tap on your shoulder surprises you. When you move to face the mysterious person, your throat goes dry at the sight of Kai. 

“Hey, mistletoe.”

“Hi.”

“So, um, doesn’t seem like we’re gonna be able to get out of this tradition, either,” he shifts his weight from one foot to the other, “and you’re the closest to my proximity.” That was a lie. The last time you pointed him out, he was all the way across the room. “So would you…”

2…

1…

“Yes.”

He kisses you the instant the television crowd erupts in chants. He’s confident this time; less hesitant, more eager. You can’t help but kiss him back with the same passion. 

A whistle carries from somewhere in the room, but you both ignore it. Kai joins his other hand with his first, now holding your cheeks with both. You can feel the smile tugging on his lips, lingering, before he finally breaks it off. 

“I’ve waited all week to do that,” he admits.

His words take a minute to sink in. “What?!”

He stares back as if trying to read you. You look down, unable to hold his intense eye contact. Kai only seems to take that as an invitation to hook a finger on your chin and lift your head back up. 

“I-” his eyes take your breath away and you find yourself incapable of speaking.

“Do you not want it?”

“No, no, I do. I liked kissing you,” you force yourself to confess.

He cocks his head. “So what’s wrong?”

“I’m, uh… did- did you like it?”

He seems a little taken off guard by the question being flipped. He licks his lips. “Yes.”

You look out into the living room and see everyone celebrating. For once, no one’s watching you. “I like you, Kai. Like, I don’t just like kissing you, I like you.”

“Like a crush?” His eyes are amused, yet genuine. 

It feels safe enough to continue, “yes.”

He’s quiet for a while. His hand drops your chin to grab a strawberry, and you watch him eat the entire thing before he finally responds. “I have these feelings that I don’t understand. Whenever I see you, or hear your laugh, or even if someone mentions you, I get this weird feeling in my body, like a fluttering. Is that a crush?”

You giggle gently and his eyes snap up to you. “Yes, that sounds like it. At least, that’s what I get when I think of you.”

“So… if two people both have a crush on each other, does that mean they can kiss for real? And not have it be an excuse brought on by two dumb holiday traditions?”

Your heart is racing so fast, it might jump out of your chest. “If they want to, yes.”

“Good. Because I do. I want to kiss you again. Do you?”

“Mhm. But um…”

“What’s wrong?”

“Well sometimes, people with crushes on each other start to date. That means they can kiss whenever they want, and also spend more time together… if you- they want that, too.”

Kai smiles. For a moment, you can’t tell if his questions about feelings were real, or if he were just testing out the waters to get you to admit your own, but you quickly realize you don’t care. Not when he’s looking at you like that. 

“I do… want that. I would like to date you, Y/N.”

“I would, too.”

“Really?”

“You have no idea how much.”

“Mhhmm, try to show me,” he says, leaning in to close the gap between your lips. 

You laugh, accepting the challenge, and deepen his kiss with your hands gently on his face. A kiss of your own volition, without any pressure. A kiss to start a new relationship in a fresh, new year. 

#kai parker x reader #malachai parker x reader #kai parker oneshot #tvd fanfiction #kai parker fluff #happy new year!! 🩷

[superiorsturgeon]

Domestic Arkos Role Reversal

Pyrrha: *distressed, reading the mail* Oh, no! I lost another sponsorship! And just when huntress jobs are running short, too!

Jaune: *wraps Pyrrha in a hug* Darn, that’s too bad. I guess I can go back to my old job being a crossing guard to make ends meet and you can stay home with Jamie for now?

Pyrrha: I suppose it would be nice to spend time at home with our son…

Pyrrha: Okay, let’s do it!

———————————————————————

Jaune: *heading out the door* Love you both! Be good for your mom, Jamie! Remember to call me if you need help, okay?

Pyrrha: Don’t worry so much! Hurry up or you’ll be late!

Pyrrha: Well, it looks like it’s just you and your mother today, right sweetheart? *looks down at Arkos son*

Jamie: *already has gum in his hair* 😀

Pyrrha: 🤦‍♀️…this day is not off to a good start…

———————————————————————

Pyrrha: *struggling with pot roast recipe and slow cooker instructions* Wait, is “warm” a higher or lower heat than “low?”

*Smoke alarm goes off*

———————————————————————

Pyrrha: *steps on lego while playing with Jamie*

Pyrrha: 😫 FU-

Jamie: 🙂 ?

Pyrrha: *clamps a hand over her mouth and muffles her agonized scream*

———————————————————————

Pyrrha: *pushing grocery cart and reading shopping list*

Pyrrha: How can two adults and a five-year-old need seven pages of groceries?

Pyrrha: And what on Remnant is tarragon?!

———————————————————————

Pyrrha: *removes laundry from dryer*

Pyrrha: *holds up shrunken shirt* 😟

Pyrrha: …Jamie, sweetie, how would you like one of your father’s old shirts?

Jamie: 🙃

———————————————————————

Jamie: *running around happily with the other children at the park*

Pyrrha: *slumps on a bench* Ugh…how can one little boy have so much energy…? 😮‍💨

Pyrrha: Maybe I can just rest here for a minute…

Pyrrha: 😴

Random Mother: …excuse me? Miss? Isn’t that your son?

Pyrrha: *cracks open one eye* …bwuh…?

Jamie: *on top of jungle gym, losing his balance*

Jamie: 🫨

Pyrrha: 😱

Pyrrha: *launches herself off the bench into a diving catch*

Pyrrha: *heart hammering* Are you okay?!

Jamie: 🥺 *small nod*

Pyrrha: *flops on the ground clutching her son*

———————————————————————

Pyrrha: *holding napping Jamie on her shoulder during PTA meeting*

Jamie: 😪 *drools a bit on Pyrrha’s shirt*

Pyrrha: I’ve never been so bored in my life…🥱

———————————————————————

Jaune: *opens door to Arkos house* Hello! I’m home!

Jamie: Daddy! *runs to the door*

Jaune: Hey, there’s my little guy! *scoops up his son as he walks inside* How was your day with mommy?

Jamie: We went to the park! Mommy’s sleepy though!

Pyrrha: *passed out on the couch with disheveled hair, stains on her shirt, and a pile of half-opened bills on her lap as her son’s favorite cartoon plays on the tv* 😴

Jaune: *bends down and gently shakes Pyrrha’s shoulder* Pyr? How are you doing?

Pyrrha: *snorts and jerks awake* What? Huh? Jamie, be careful with that-!

Pyrrha: Oh, Jaune…! Welcome home! How was work? 🥱

Jaune: *adjusts Jamie in his arms* Just like I remembered! Helping kids cross the street, politely telling some of the moms that I’m very taken! 😁

Pyrrha: *exhausted pout* I’m much too tired for jokes, Jaune…😣

Jaune: Okay, okay! Let me put my stuff away and we’ll see about dinner!

Jamie: Pizza? 😃

Jaune: *looks at the stack of dishes in the kitchen with burnt-on food* …yeah, sure little guy! Go wash your hands and daddy will order pizza.

Jamie: 😄 *happily runs to the bathroom*

Pyrrha: *slowly gets up and walks face-first into Jaune’s shoulder* …how do you do it…? I’ve trained for the arena for years and fought Grimm bigger than our house, but I’m so tired after one day at home with my own son…! 😭

Jaune: *wraps Pyrrha in a hug* Don’t worry, Pyr! It just takes some practice! Besides, it’s only until you get another huntress job and get back to being a hero!

Pyrrha: *mumbles into Jaune’s chest* …If you can do this every day while I’m at work, you’re the REAL hero…!

Jaune: Hey, I’m just the loving house husband of Pyrrha Freaking Nikos! I’m sure everyone will be calling you “The Invincible Mom” within the week!

Pyrrha: …

Jaune: …Pyr…?

Pyrrha: *asleep against Jaune* 😴

Jaune: *scoops up exhausted Pyrrha*

Jaune: …she has gum in her hair…

#rwby #jaune arc #pyrrha nikos #arkos #jaune x pyrrha #rwbabies #domestic #jaune arc x pyrrha nikos

[plinthpilled]

I love love LOVE your bsf to lover stuff with sejanus it's one of my favorite tropes and with himmm?? 🫠

tysm!! here's more just for you anon <3

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

you and sejanus plinth have been best friends ever since he came to the Capitol from district 2. you were the only person who ever stood up to his relentless bullies that were your classmates and he couldn't thank you enough for that. things soon became conflicting, though. after being friends for years, you realized you really really liked him and wanted to be more than friends. you refused to say anything due to not wanting to fuck up a perfectly good friendship. this was your thought process until today.

you were walking down the elegant halls of the academy when you felt a hand grip your shoulder from behind. you turn around panicked, just to see it was sejanus. you lightly punch him in the arm in a joking way. "asshole." you giggle. "oh my god whatever will I do? my best friend just called me an asshole!" he said sarcastically while doing dramatic hand motions. you laugh at his silly antics and step closer to him, closing the distance between you two. "sej I was wondering if you wanted to hang out at the park today? I know it's like really last minute so no worries if you can't!" you say. "of course I do. what else would I be doing anyways?" he smiles. "okay! meet me there in half an hour." you tell him, reaching the exit of the building. he waves to you and you return the gesture, excited to be able to see him. you get in a car that you called and make your way home.

when you arrive, you basically run out of the car to go get changed. you debate several different options before settling on your favorite outfit. while waiting for the appropriate time to leave came, you did some thinking. you decided today was the day to confess your undying love for your best friend. it was the perfect day, truly. not too hot, not too cold and at the park no less. it seemed like the stars had aligned. a wave of nervousness washed over you, realizing that if he didn't feel the same way, you would have no one. many of your classmates refused to talk to you because you were associated with the district born boy. you didn't mind at all though, as long as you had sejanus by your side, everything was perfect. you straighten up your outfit and perfect your hair before heading out to the designated spot.

you sit at you and sej's usual spot, a specific bench that overlooks the large and majestic lake. you were lost in your thoughts when you feel a presence next to you. you turn to see sejanus's beautiful dark curls and matching eyes. "hey." you smile. "hey yourself. you look nice." he returns the gesture and you can physically feel yourself fall more in love with the boy. "you feeling alright?" he asks, worry spreading across his gorgeous features. "oh- yeah I'm fine." you say. "you're not convincing in the slightest. what's wrong?" he puts his hand over yours, his touch addicting. you take a deep breath, knowing it's now or never. "I- uh- just wanted to tell you something." you say, nervousness and anxiety soaking your words. the second you say that you can see worry plastered all over him. you knew from his now rigid stance that he was expecting the worst. "shoot. you can tell me anything." he states with the kind and charming voice you have loved since you met. you take another deep breath, preparing yourself for the absolute worst. "I know this is going to sound completely out of nowhere and I'm so sorry but I'm in love with you. I've loved you since the day we met and every time we talk or even every time I'm around you I just fall more in love and I just needed to get this weight off of my chest." you say, words coming out at lightning speed. you look down in your lap, afraid to make eye contact after admitting something like that. you hear sejanus whisper a "wow" under his breath, not in a malicious way. you finally have the courage to look up at him. he looks at you with absolute adoration. "I love you too." he finally says and you can't help the grin that spreads across your face like wildfire. the man of your dreams just said that he loved you. you were convinced you were dreaming.

sej breaks you out of your trace by putting his hand on your cheek and moving his thumb back and forth over your skin. "I always thought you were the most gorgeous person in all of panem, you know." he says softly. your smile increases tenfold as you put your forehead against his chest. you giggle into him and he does too, his body shaking slightly as he does so, his angelic voice soothing you. you take your face away from his body and kiss him on the cheek. "you missed." he said. you tilt your head slightly and cock and eyebrow. "huh?" he grabs under your chin gently and gives you a soft peck on the lips. you lean into it, feeling at ease. the interaction unfortunately ends and you look up at him and flush red. you then face away and out your head against his shoulder as he wraps his arm around yours. the two of you watch the sun set as you praise each other, neither of you ever feeling so content as in that moment.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

an: I hope you enjoyed! ik I say that every time but I really mean it. hope this lives up to your best friends to lovers sejanus idea 🙏

#the hunger games x reader #tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #sejanus plinth x you #sejanus x reader #sejanus plinth x reader #sejanus plinth #tbosas x reader #tbosas x you #plinthpilled

[sashaisready]

New Year with Bucky - Drabble

Wrote this fluff in the early hours when my baby was having a new year’s rave and keeping me awake 😒

Some references to smut..

Bucky isn’t particularly fussed about New Year’s Eve, he hadn’t celebrated it for so long that it’s just another day to him now. And he’s not very impressed by the amount of drunks out on the streets…

You tell him that a new year is exciting because it’s a chance to start afresh, wipe the slate of the previous year clean and begin again - to do better. Be better. There’s so much hope and promise as the clock counts down. So much potential. He smiles wryly at this and presses a small kiss to your hairline. He loves how you see the world. And he can’t deny that a fresh chance does sound nice. That’s all he ever wanted. And he was lucky enough to get it with you.

“Fine” he grumbles. He exasperatedly blows on a party noisemaker and lets you put those novelty glasses with the year on them over his face. He sits calmly as you giggle and tenderly move a strand of hair from his face. “But I’m not going out” he protests, although the look in his eyes softens as he watches you beam. He’d do anything to make you smile like that. “That’s okay” you agree. “We can have our own party right here”. Alpine offers a meow in agreement. 

You have dinner together, sharing the chopping and prep in comfortable silence. Bucky absentmindedly wraps an arm around your waist as he stands at the stove, lost in his task. Metal fingers tickle the skin of your hips and you nuzzle into him, perfectly content in that moment, a moment of bliss in your small kitchen. 

After dinner and half a bottle of wine, you both flop onto the couch with Alpine and watch TV for a while. Bucky’s constant touches and caresses finally get too much and you squeak as he lifts you effortlessly, carrying you to the bedroom and giving you one final memory of the year.

You pant and cry out and fist his hair, laying back and letting yourself catch your breath as he grins and watches you smugly. You only realise the time as your phone lights up on the nightstand. You hastily start the countdown in bed, in the safest place on earth - wrapped his arms, your cheek pressed to the furnace of his bare chest. “10…9…8…” you whisper in unison.

“Happy new year!!” He kisses you and you kiss him as you hear your neighbours drunkenly sing Auld Lang Syne through the walls. You curl up into him and he holds you tightly. 

You reel off a couple of your New Year’s resolutions as he strokes your hair, the usual stuff. Small things you’d like to achieve, do better at. “You’re already perfect, Doll” he mutters gruffly, his lids growing heavy with fatigue.

“What about you, Buck? Any resolutions?” You whisper and he turns to look at you, his brilliant blue eyes studying you as he quietly considers your question. 

“To spend more time with those I love” he replies earnestly, giving you a chaste kiss. “I’m off to a good start”.

You smile back and tell him you love him, as sleeps takes you both and pulls you into the new year. 

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

[steveharringtonat3am]

Somnophilia with Steve

kinktober masterlist!!

pairing: steve harrington/fem!reader

word count: 962

warnings: somnophilia (previously given consent), penetrative sex, morning steve (he's just so bf)

When Steve had first brought up the idea of doing stuff when one of us was asleep, I didn’t think it was that weird. I mean, what guy wouldn’t want to be woken up with a blowjob? And I sure as hell wasn’t going to turn down an opportunity to be woken up by Steve’s amazing oral skills.

So we put it on the table, but made sure to set a few rules. If either of us was wearing a certain set of pyjamas, doing stuff was fair game. For Steve, it was his plaid pyjama pants that he never wore anything under. For me, it was this silk pyjama set that I had to keep re-buying because everytime Steve saw me in it, he immediately ripped it off.

It was also fair game if either of us were naked, which is what led me to this predicament I was in now.

When I walked into our bedroom, the sun just starting to rise, I don’t expect to see Steve fast asleep in bed. He looks so pretty I had to admire him.

And then he shifts.

The blanket slips down his hips and I get a glimpse of his bare thigh. It’s insane how much the sight turns me on, but it does. I had spent many nights perched on his leg, grinding against the rough denim of his Levi’s as he mocked me for being so desperate for him that I would resort to this. But even with all of the teasing, he would always help me fall over the edge.

I gently crawl onto the bed, trying to gauge how deep his sleep is. When soft snores fill the bedroom, I take it as my cue to gently pull the blanket off of him. I thank whoever’s up there that Steve runs hot, and doesn’t cling to the covers like I always do.

When I finally get the fabric off of him, my mouth is practically watering. Steve has always been hot. I had a crush on him for years before we got together, even when he was a douchebag. But there was just something about him that drew me to him.

Maybe it was that one time he saw me walking in the rain and offered to drive me home, despite the fact I was soaking wet and definitely left a puddle in the passenger seat. But maybe it was that other time he gave me his jacket after one of his crazy parties when it got a little too chilly.

It was little things that made me fall in love with Steve, but his looks were definitely a welcomed bonus.

And the sex was amazing.

His legs are just barely spread enough for me to settle in between them, his cock half hard. My mouth is watering but as much as I want to suck him off, I’m too wet to do anything other than ride him.

Climbing on top of him while trying not to put my weight on him is a feat but I manage it nonetheless. I know I have to take this slow, so that I don’t immediately wake him and ruin the surprise, but it’s torture to slowly line his cock up and sink down on it.

When he moans softly, I think I’ve blown it. But then his snores begin again and I relax. I take my time sinking down on his cock. He’s still asleep when I take all of him, biting my lip to keep from moaning loudly.

“Fuck…” I whisper into the silence of the room as I rock gently back and forth. I want him to wake up when he’s close, but I know that will be unlikely given how desperate I am for him to fuck me.

“So good…” He mumbles, shifting and pushing himself deeper into me. It takes everything in me to be quiet but I just about manage it. I wanna wake him up now, but I don’t wanna do it with a moan.

I start to bounce up and down on his cock, not taking him all the way so there’s no loud slapping of skin like there normally is. But he’s still so deep and I fist the sheets desperately.

“God you feel so good…” I mumble.

“Well isn’t this a lovely surprise?” Steve’s raspy voice teases me as his eyes flutter open to drink me in. I don’t falter, but I let myself drop to take him a little deeper each time.

“W-wanted to wake you up n-nicely.” I moan in between words, finally letting myself collapse against his chest. He laughs loudly, and the sound fills my chest with love.

“This is very nice baby. But you know what would be nicer? Feeling your tight pussy cumming on my cock.” His hips start thrusting up into me, and my brain fully short circuits.

“M’so close Steve….p-please? I’m almost there.” I know I probably don’t need to ask permission right now, but the last time I came without asking I didn’t sit properly for a week.

So it’s better to be safe than sorry.

“Go ahead love.” His voice is strained and I know he won’t last long either. It only takes a few more deep thrusts, and I cum with a loud moan.

Steve clearly isn’t far behind and I feel a flood of warmth as he slowly works me through my orgasm.

“Fuck…” I whisper, snuggling into his chest. He just laughs, kissing my temple and hugging me tightly.

“Well good morning to you too.”

hope you enjoyed!!

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #kinktober #kinktober 2022 #stranger things #stranger things smut

[starandcloud]

And They Were Roomates

Civilian!Y/N x Simon Riley

Tw: Alcohol, older male friends

Word Count: 815

Y/N and Simon have been living together as roommates for almost three years at this point. Y/N had grown used to Simon's absence, you weren't aware of where he worked. But he paid his half of the rent, so you really didn't care. You weren't expecting to come home to Simon sitting on the couch, decked out in his hoodie, sweatpants, and hello kitty socks. All of which you had bought for him for Christmas.

"Business trip end early?"

You asked as you set your messenger bag down on the ground, and started to take your shoes off. Your skirt brushed over the floor as you took a step towards the kitchen.

"Yeah, something like that Sunshine"

Playfully you rolled your eyes and opened the fridge.

bread, left over mac-n'-cheese, samich stuff... none of this looks good for dinner...

"Do you want take out Simon?"

You asked as you leaned over the back of the couch, reading whatever documents he was working on over his shoulder.

"Sure, whatcha thinkin'? Chinese?" "You read my mind~"

You said as you gently patted both of his shoulders then picked up your phone.

"Anything special?" "Noodles. The good ones. And that chicken you got that one time."

You couldn't help but laugh at Simon's terrible memory.

"Alright, alright. Are you going to have anyone over?" "Johnny?" "Yeah, him."

Simon had to think about that for a moment, looking at his phone for a minute.

"Would you mind?" "Of course not! I love Johnny!"

You said, making Simon smile gently and pick up his phone.

"I'll get him some noodles and chicken too, I think he'd like them."

You said as you watched Simon call Johnny, you had liked his friend since you first met him. Johnny matched your chaotic energy and often endorsed in your stupid ideas but, more importantly? He made Simon happy, and that's all you cared about.

Hours passed, it was about twelve AM now. The three of you were all intoxicated and... Y/N had never really noticed how nice it was to hear Simon laugh like he was. So carefree and happy, it was adorable.

"Shouldn't the kid get to bed?" "Hey! Fuck you! I'm twenty-five!"

Y/N yelled, defending themself before Johnny threw a couch pillow at them.

"Yeah, and I'm thirty-two. You're a kid!"

You scoffed and let yourself flop back against the floor. Your skirt had been swapped out for a pair of sweats and the turtle-neck had been switched for one of Simon's hoodies.

"Isn't that hoodie Simon's?"

Johnny asked before a loud, skin-on-skin, slap filled the room followed by a groan.

"Yeah, but Simon is nice enough to share his clothes with me."

You said, twirling your hand through the air. Watching how the light disappeared and reappeared as you shifted your fingers in front of the light, then away.

"Sunshine?"

You heard Simon's voice and you pushed yourself up.

"Yeah Si? What's up?" "Head to bed, it's late and you have classes tomorrow."

You nodded in agreement and stood up, grabbing your dirty dishes and alcohol you took a step towards the kitchen. A strong hand grabbed your arm and another took the plate from your hand.

"Give me these, go to bed. Johnny and I will pick up, you need the sleep."

Simon said, his chest rumbling as it pressed against your back. Gently leaning your head back, you hummed before softly saying.

"I can pick up after myself Mr. Riley~"

You said as you took back the dirtied dishes and disappeared into the kitchen, you heard hushed talking before laughter from Johnny as you put the porcelain in the sink and started to dump the alcohol down the sink before pausing.

It couldn't hurt if I drank what was left

You thought as you lifted the bottle to your lips. Chugging the chilled liquid, you felt it burn down your chest as you tried to finish it. Pulling the glass bottle away you quietly gasped for air, you listened to the talking just outside of the kitchen before dumping the rest out. Stumbling into the living room you expectantly stood by your door and waited for Simon. It didn't take long for him to notice you standing there. A quiet chuckle left his lips as he stood up and walked towards you. Wrapping his arms around you he gently rocked you.

"Sleep well Kid, I'm right next door if you need me."

Simon promised before sending you off to bed. Laying under your comforters you quietly smiled and started to drift off to sleep. Simon had been such a positive influence on you, and your life had been much easier since he moved in. The neighbors left you alone now and less people cat-called you when they saw Simon walking behind you. Maybe... Maybe you could fall for him..?

. .. ...

Nah, that's the alcohol talking.

#simon riley x y/n #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #ghost mw2 #cod ghost #cod mw2 #ghost cod #ghost call of duty #Simon Riley #Domestic Simon Riley #Domestic Simon x Y/N #Domestic Simon x You #Domestic Simon x Reader #faeriesberries

[emithecharmer]

Disney and Density

Fluff, friends-to-lovers, mentions of kidnapping and death (typical disney stuff 🤪) sorry for any mistakes! Disney referenced movies in order: Tangled, Frozen, Mulan, The Princess and the Frog, Frozen, The Aristocats.

"Okay, I got snacks, movies, drinks, and, my cat." I said as I plopped my cat onto my friends lap.

"Oh, and one more thing." I smiled when my cat jumped away and ran into my bedroom.

"Hm, what?" Felix asked as he turned around and gasped.

"You got Vegemite!?" He yelled in shock as he stood up and walked over.

"Mhm, my friend just got back from over there, so I asked her to grab some." I explained.

"Stop it, I love you." He said excitedly as he grabbed the jar.

"Do not tell Chris." He said pointedly, making me laugh and hold my hands up,

"I got him some too, don't worry." He nodded and clutched his hand to his chest in relief.

.

"RUN! RUN GO RUN!" I yelled at the movie, telling Eugene to run away from Gothel.

"NO!" Felix yelled as Eugene fell to the ground.

"Dumbass." I rolled my eyes at the TV as Felix giggled.

"C'mon, he had to see it coming!" I groaned as I threw my head back.

"Y'know, if you were ever kidnapped as a baby, held in a tower for 16 years, and then we met and I showed you what freedom was like. You think we could date?" I tilted my head in consideration.

"If you looked like Eugene." I answered.

"Wha- Not like me?" I shook my head.

"No, but, I would date you if my sister had been hiding her powers from me since she'd frozen a part of my head at a young age, and we met on a quest to find her." Felix hummed and tilted his head.

"I'll take it." I nodded.

"Let's watch 'Mulan' next. I wanna see daddy Shang." I moaned, causing Felix to double over in laughter and stand up.

"I'm gonna get some water, want anything?" I shook my head and watched him walk into the kitchen.

"You know, I should head home after Mulan, if I'm not staying here." Felix called out from the kitchen.

"I thought you were staying?" I asked.

"Oh- Am I?" He asked with a confused pout when he came back.

"Can you?" He nodded and got comfy on the couch again, opting for his head on my shoulder this time.

.

"Shanggg, be nice, you're half the soldier she is." Felix chuckled at my enthusiasm.

"If you sacrificed your own life for your father's, I'd be a bit threatened too." Felix said.

"Didn't Shang's dad die?" I asked.

"Mhm, when they were called to the frontlines."

"Yeahh, that's right."

Felix yawned and I smiled at him.

"Should we go to my room? You can lay down." He raised an eyebrow and smirked, making me tap his nose with my finger.

"Not like that you little horn dog." Felix cackled at my choice of words.

"I am not!" I raised an eyebrow at him, making him duck his head.

"...Just a little." He muttered, making me cackle and stand up, holding out my hand.

"Let's go, puppy." He said as he stood up and stretched, taking my hand after.

I turned off the TV and walked into my room. Luckily I had a big bed, so Felix could spread out as much as he wanted.

"Scoot over." He groaned.

"Your legs are all over me, you scoot over!" I pushed his leg, making him giggle sleepily and kick back.

"Ah! Stop!" I laughed.

"Oh my gosh stop, the lightning bug died..." I turned to the screen and Felix gasped.

"No!"

.

"I want a relationship like Anna and Kristof's." I said, making Felix hum.

"Except, I don't want the absolute absurd density they have."

"I think you already do." Felix said, making me slap his shoulder.

"Um, rude?" He laughed.

"And what do you mean by that?" I asked.

"How dumb are you?" He asked, making my eyes widen.

"Stop being mean bro!" I said.

"Y/n." I stilled, looking up and making as best eye contact I could with him in the darkness.

"Will you be the Duchess to my O'Malley?" He asked, making my jaw drop.

"Stop, because they're literally adorable-"

"Y/n.." He sighed.

"Yeah- Oh- Yeah- Yes- Mhm- Yeah- Sounds good- Gre-" I was cut off by Felix bringing his hand up to my cheek, and giving me a questioning look. I nodded and that's all it took for him to bring my face closer to his and kiss my lips softly.

#skz #skz imagines #skz bang chan #skz felix #skz changbin #skz hyunjin #skz minho #skz fluff #skz i.n #skz seungmin #skz felix x reader #felix x reader #lee felix x reader #lee felix fluff #kee felix x you #stray kids #skz scenarios #skz reactions #fluff #kpop

[lilyrizzy]

something silly & self indulgent, set in the verse of 'in that iron ground.'

cw: parental death mention

“Daniel?” His mum says, her voice airy with the echo of laughter. “What a nice surprise.”

There’s no trace of concern in her voice, though it’s 4 AM in Rotterdam right now, something she must know. Or at least have known once upon a time. Too early for a casual catch-up.

It’s strange to be faced with the different ways his dad’s death affected them all. His mum can be fearless answering the phone, but Daniel’s palms still sweat whenever he sees his light up with the notification that her or Michelle is calling. Stranger still, maybe, that this is still something he thinks about whenever he speaks to his family on the phone.

“Sorry, you sound busy,” he apologises, but even as he says it, staring out at the inky black night, he hears the noise of background chatter recede. His mum’s muffled voice as she makes her excuses to step outside of whatever room she’s in, all the way across the world.

“No, no, Tim and I just have some friends over for our breakfast club, but I’m never too busy for you,” she says easily enough, back to talking to him now. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah Mama,” he promises, nodding though she can’t see him, “everything is- It’s good. Just wanted to hear your voice.”

There’s a pause, where he thinks she might call him out on the strangeness of the hour, but then-

“Not too long till Christmas now, darling.” 

They fall into the easy routine of catching each other up, their familiar dance perfected through more years spent living apart than together now. It’s mostly her speaking to start with, like she knows he needs it to ease himself in. He hears all about Isaac’s new job, and Izzy’s new baby. Stuff he already knows from Michelle, mostly, that he can just hum along to. The last thing is how the cold is finally ebbing from the earth long enough for her to think she can plant some new bulbs soon in her garden.

“And what’s new with you?” She prompts, enough of a tone in her voice for Daniel to know that if he could see her, he’d be getting that pointed look right about now.

Come on young man, tell your mama.

Time’s up.

“We dropped Milly at uni earlier,” he admits after a moment but then doesn’t say anything else, letting it settle between them.

“Oh,” his mum says, something knowing in her voice, and if Daniel stays as an attuned parent to Emilia, despite the new distance between them, he’ll be happy. “How did Max take it?”

That makes Daniel smile at least, looking over his shoulder towards their bedroom, though he knows he won’t be able to see the shape of Max under their duvet through the blinds covering the balcony’s glass door.

His mum hums sympathetically.

“Well, he only pretended not to cry for half of the car journey back,” Daniel says with a laugh, though at the time he’d ached watching Max try and fail to stop his bottom lip trembling as they pulled away from the University of Amsterdam’s welcome fair. “Then he gave in and asked me to pull the car over to give him a cuddle.”

“He did tell me he was nervous for her go,” she says, and nervous is the understatement of the fucking century, but her words make a thick kind of love fill his chest. The same feeling he gets when Max says, “Remind me to call your mum tomorrow, I haven’t spoken to her for a little while.” When he walks in on the two of them exchanging new recipes over Facetime.

“Yeah, she’s our baby,“ Daniel says simply, laughing just to ease the words from his throat, “he isn’t taking it so well, but- But you know Max.”

He can say that because she does.

“Poor Max,” she says with a sigh. “And how is my baby taking it?”

Daniel breathes out the breath he’s been holding in since they dropped Emilia off at her accommodation. Max pressing one hundred quick kisses to her head, making her promise to call them tomorrow to tell them all about her ‘lovely new friends’, while she tried desperately to back them out of the door so they couldn’t cramp her style any worse. Since Max touched his knee and looked at him with wet eyes in the car ride home and said, “This of course is for the best,” like he hadn’t also been right there with Daniel, agonizing over her moving a two-hour car journey away.

Nothing really, when you compare it to two planes and twenty-four hours of travel.

“I’m okay,” he says because it’s mostly true. “I just- Fuck, mum, I don’t know how you and Dad did it. Packed me up and let me move to Europe, two years younger than Milly is now.”

His mum hadn’t even cried in the airport, he remembers. She’d just kissed his cheek very hard, his dad hovering behind telling her she’d make Daniel miss his flight, then hugging Daniel afterwards for just as hard, just as long.

“Ah, well,” she says, words half gentle laughter. “This is the hard part. Welcome back to the era of sleepless nights, except this time they aren’t in the next room, needing you.”

He has to close his eyes against the harsh truth of it. The pain he put his parents through, the pain he feels now, it’s all born from too much love.

“Yeah but Milly always needs me,” he insists, laughing wetly, trying and failing to cover the way he is the one crying now. “Who else is going to teach her how to bag all the hot Dutch boys?”

His mum snorts, and for a moment the ache in his chest is soothed by giggles they dissolve into together. “Don’t let Max hear you say that.”

They lapse into a comfortable silence again once the laughter has trailed off, but Daniel still hasn’t said the thing that made him pick up the phone and call. He promised himself standing at his father’s graveside that he wouldn’t let important things so unspoken between them again, but it doesn’t make it easy.

“Thank you,” he eventually croaks, his throat aching with the words. “Mum, thank you for- For letting me go. I wish I could say the same to Dad, I- My daughter is off to study law two hours up the road and I’m a mess, and- And you guys let me move two continents away just to give my dream a try.”

His dream that never came true, not all the way at least, but that Daniel still wouldn’t trade the life he has now for.

“Oh, sweetheart.” His mum’s voice is gentle, and he wishes so badly she was here to give him a hug. “I just did what you are doing now, for Milly. It’s all a part of it. Sophie would tell you the same.”

She probably has already, to Max at least.

“Yeah,” Daniel says, wiping at his eyes and sniffing a little. “I just- I’m going to miss her, I think.”

For the last nineteen years, the bedroom opposite his and Max’s has been five different colours, has seen four different ‘best friends,’ and had posters of athletes, pop stars, Max’s maps and most recently Ruth Bader Ginsburg on the wall, but- But it’s always had his baby girl inside, sleeping in the bed every night.

“Of course, you’ll miss her. You’re a good dad, Daniel.” His mum says it like a promise, her voice cracking down the middle too. “I tell your dad all the time when I go to visit him. How proud of you he would be, my darling.”

#thank you lin for making me think about how daniel would feel so fraught letting his baby leave home #comparing it to how his parents let him go to race #in that iron ground #max/daniel #fic #one day i'll stop beating this au like a dead horse i promise lol #today is not that day!!! #also sorry to spam everyones dash so much today #really trying to avoid my thesis lol

[animeyanderelover]

May I request Chuuya (bsd) with prompt 90. I hope you have a wonderful new year.

Guys, my holidays are the day after tomorrow over so that means slower updates.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, possessive behavior, obsession, violence, death

Prompt 90

Merry, easygoing and sweet were words Chuuya would usually connect with your personality, sweetness that made the bitter pill that at times was his life easier to swallow. As long as you were around, he felt a sense of excitement and giddiness comparing to those of a child in a candy store, a lighthearted joy he'd never really experienced before. If there was one person he would want to spend the rest of his life with, it had to be you, your life always refreshing with the intentions of cheering him up when you would notice his grumpy and stressed exterior. He had to cherish you, he had to protect you.

Something had changed recently though and it was painful to see. Your mood had had a shift in a very negative direction. You often looked apprehensive, nervous, downright skittish when you would head to work to the Café you normally loved so much. You often checked the mailbox as if afraid that he'd find something he shouldn't find and dodged all of his questions with a wry half-hearted smile and shallow reassurances that work was merely a bit stressing at the moment. Did you seriously expect him to believe that?

---

It had been a while since he had visited your workplace, work in the Port Mafia was everything but sunshine and muffins after all which made your own occupation all the more ironic. The moment he stepped in, he was greeted by the floating scent of coffee, tea and pastries, the delicious goods proudly presented in the vitrines. The interior designed to look cozy and homely, painted in pastel colours. Chuuya had a bit of a history with this café, had it been the place where he had first met you after all and had returned to time and time again only to catch glimpses of you. So a lot of the stuff knew him, at least from his appearance and he spotted one of the waitresses heading to the area where only workers of this place were allowed to enter, most likely to get you.

The Ecexutive sat down on a table located at the end of the Café, giving him a good view of the other customers in the place and a nice look outside of the little place too, allowing him to spot everyone outside on the streets and every individual who would enter this place. The door to the space only stuff was allowed was swung open and out came you, worry written all over your face as your eyes scanned the place before finally landing on him. Quick steps were taken as you hurried to him, your eyes nervously glancing back every few seconds.

"What are you doing here?" you hissed at him, your face twisted into one of dread and distress, your tray clutched against your chest as if you were hugging it for comfort. The lack of any warm greeting for him took Chuuya back, too puzzled for about two seconds to reply which gave you time to continue. "Chuuya, you have to leave this place." There was urgency in your voice whilst your eyes were silently pleading him to just comply to your wishes without any discussion. You should have known better though as his astonished expression faded and turned into a mask of concern and determination. The kind of stubborn determination that had landed him a date with you all this time ago, the kind of stubborn determination that meant he wouldn't leave until he had an answer, a favourable one.

"I'm not leaving until I have found out why you've been acting so strange lately." he replied back, narrowing his eyes as he was staring at your panicky form. "I already told you that it's nothing serious." you shot back, your voice a bit louder than intended, shaky at the end.

"Have you even looked at yourself lately? Stop lying and try to brush it off as nothing. Try to consider my feelings too and how it makes me feel seeing you so gloomy and jumpy all the time."

He could see that you were biting the insides of your cheeks nervously, eyes holding contact with his own as he could see that you were contemplating right now. You flinched when you felt his fingertips brushing up and down your arms.

"What happened? Tell me."

You glanced nervously over your shoulders as you were checking for something before you turned to him, swallowing down nervously before sucking in a deep breath.

"My-"

"Hey, (l/n)! What's taking you so long?"

You nearly bit into your lip as you shut your mouth, spooked as soon as you heard the loud voice booming through the Café, disturbing all customers. You quickly shook Chuuya's hands off, turning around as if to run back to the source of the voice before you were stopped. Chuuya's hands rested heavily on your shoulders as he pulled you back, his chest brushing against your back. Grey eyes bore an irritated look as they landed on the person who had just left the staff's only area and marched right at you. They weren't dressed in any work clothes as their wear made them appear more as the manager of this place than anything else. Chuuya knew the actual manager of this place though, a older but kind old man. Still, there was a name tag clipped on the fabric of their suit which Chuuya was able to read once they'd gotten close enough.

Their last name sounded familiar. Wasn't that the name of the actual manager of this place?

Oh...Now he understood.

You felt the grip on your shoulders tighten, pressing you even closer to him in a protective manner, although you just knew that Chuuya had just connected all the dots. Needless to say, he was fuming right about now.

Their eyes narrowed as they saw Chuuya's hands on your shoulders and how close you two stood. They also stepped closer, grabbing one of your arms and attempting to pull you away only to blink confused when you leaned closer to Chuuya.

"Say, is this man harassing you?"

"No. You see...this is my-"

You couldn't finish your sentence as Chuuya's temper got the better of him, their hold on your arm had made him see red quickly and he yanked their wrist away from your skin in a nearly bone-crushing grip whilst pulling you with the other hand behind him.

"I'm their boyfriend." he gritted out, a fire in his grey eyes that threatened to burst out and scorch the bastard in front of him. They whimpered as they tried to tear his hand away from their wrist without an success.

"Chuuya! Chuuya, let them go. That's the new manager of this place." you begged him, assisting your new boss in attempting to break them free of Chuuya's iron-hard grip. You felt the eyes of every person on you right now and the shame and guilt made you all tearful, your vision blurring.

"Chuuya, please just stop!" you cried out, hitting his chest with your fist. He was livid but his face softened a bit when he noticed that you were about to cry. They stumbled back with a painful howl when he pushed them back forcefully, noticing to his dismay that his lack of self-control had caused quite a scene in the small café.

He shot them one last glance, filled with revulsion and fury that made them scramble away quickly before turning to you, doing his best to stuff all possible anger down. You were a victim, it wasn't your fault.

"Get all of your stuff. We're going home."

You almost gladly obeyed, with the full knowledge that you probably wouldn't return again.

---

"I can only pray that they won't fire me." you muttered out, face hidden in your palms as you let out a frustrated groan, unsure who to be angry with. Your knees were pulled close to your chest, your back leaning back into the cushion of the couch.

You did feel a bit better though as Chuuya had more or less forced out everything as soon as both of you had arrived home and he had been given enough time to cool down. A few weeks ago your old manager had given the café to his nephew as he had fallen ill and was currently being treated in the hospital. He had been telling his staff about it beforehand but no one of them could have possibly expected his nephew to be such an arsehole. Arrogant and entitled, terrible and mean. They had flirted with you and other staff members, ignoring the fact that some of them had already partners and had gone as far as forbidding them to mention such a thing whilst working there. You hadn't told Chuuya anything out of fear to be fired and since you didn't want to bring any bad reputation upon the little shop, for the sake of the old manager.

"Don't tell me that you actually plan to go back to work in there." Chuuya muttered in disbelief. You peeked at him through your fingers, revealing half of your face which was glaring at him slightly, harmless. You couldn't deny that the smug monkey had deserved the good scare from Chuuya but that didn't mean that Chuuya had to react so hot-headed.

"Believe me, I'd gladly stay at home instead of returning to that place but it's my only job."

"Then why don't you just do that?"

You gave him a raised eyebrow.

"Because I need to earn money somehow. And who knows, if I'm lucky I might not lose my job."

"You actually think that I'd let you go back there?"

Now you turned fully to him, leaning closer to him.

"So you suggest that I should just stay home? What am I supposed to do the whole day then?"

"Don't know. Eat a lot, buy pretty clothes, waste the money that I earn." he murmured with a grin on his face.

"So you're just giving me access to everything you earn, or what."

"You're free to spend my money however you like it. You don't even need to work."

You scoffed in an entertained manner, your tongue poking against the inside of your cheeks. "You're quite a smug idiot yourself, you know that?" you told him in an affectionate tone, earning you only a wider grin. "Of course I am, that's why you fell in love with me." You rolled your eyes playfully at him.

He was really unbelievable.

---

A few days passed by, anxiety-free days where you stayed in a happy bubble and followed Chuuya's advice of not working and just enjoying your free time. You hadn't cared too much about what your manager would think and some of your co-worker had texted you and showed their full support of you resigning from the job, in fact a lot of them were feeling the same. It was heart-breaking, seeing the community in this once so wonderful place falling apart but you'd rather end everything on a good note than leave with only scarring memories.

It wasn't until something very unlikely happened and they send you a message, the first one since they had started. You had always feared that they would do so but their interest in you and others was very superficial so this caught you off-guard and for a short while you considered blocking their number and let it be. It wasn't until they mentioned that they were being followed that you found yourself clicking onto the notification, browsing through the few unread messages with a forming lump of dread in your stomach as they told you that they were being followed by some men and wanted you to come to help them since your contact had been the first one to get randomly picked in their fright.

Attempts to ignore them became quickly hard as they started spamming you, each and every message more urgent than the other. You tried to call Chuuya to ask him where he was and if he could pick them up only to have the voicemail answer. He was most likely still at work. A few minutes passed by, minutes where you stared at the screen filling with new messages every few seconds until you caved in, told them that you'd head out for them but that this would be the only time and that you didn't want to be any further involved with them.

---

It had gotten quite chilly outside, a breeze from the ocean cooling the air down and as you felt the goosebumps on your skin, you regretted not having brought even a thin jacket with you. The vibration in your pockets had stopped and so had the constant flow of messages from your now former boss. You hadn't minded it too much at first but after a while you had started to find it rather weird, considering how persistent they had been about it at first. You were close to the location they had last told you they'd be passing soon but since then you had received no update. You tried texting them, only to be left unread for a couple of minutes.

This was suspicious.

That's when you started calling them. Calling and calling them over and over again as you finally reached the street, still doing your best to reach them. Yet the voice mail was the only thing that picked up after every call and that's when the situation truly dawned on you as you started considering that they might have really been in troubles. Until now you had somehow thought that they were just making a bad joke and considering their attitude, you wouldn't even be that surprised if they might have just pissed some people off. But besides being a horrible jerk, they were nothing more.

You felt a knot of growing dread at the base of your stomach, tightening and churning the longer you paced back and forth the streets, phone pressed against your ear, ignoring the people passing by who gave you slightly concerned looks when noticing your growing unease. You ran the entire street up and down, searching for them but were unable to find them anywhere.

You stopped after another pointless sprint up and down, out of breath and feeling hot after all the running. They weren't here, you could finally tell that much. Neither had they replied to any of your calls and texts and that left you now only with the solution that something must have happened to them. You were brainstorming where they could be right now and what you were supposed to do now before an idea popped up in your head as you passed one of the more abandoned side streets which you hadn't considered checking. It should be obvious that when being followed, only stupid characters from movies would head into one of those since it would be safer to stay on the busy streets but on the other hand, the nephew of your old boss hadn't been the brightest.

You swallowed before stepping inside the sideways, slowly navigating your way through this part of the city. It was empty, no people and no nothing in sight and the light was significantly dimmer in here due to being blocked by the buildings surrounding you. You had no idea where you were headed, you'd never gone into any sideways like any sane person would but now here you were.

You wiped out your phone once more at some point, having to use the flash light to see anything in front of you which was still just an empty sideway but you wanted to be safe. You only trailed around for a few minutes before you decided that enough was enough, making your way quickly back to the main road, switching back to just pointlessly and frantically calling them. The sound of a phone ringing deeper inside the alleyway stopped you.

---

Chuuya was standing, groaning frustrated as he failed to reach you via phone again. He had come home, feeling elated and willing to have a glass of alcohol and some cuddles with his darling only to find the house empty. You could have just been outside like you'd been the last few days but normally you'd always been at home to greet him when he usually came back from the Port Mafia to spend the evening together. Still, he had tried to question it too much. Almost two hours later though where you hadn't read any of his texts and ignored all of his calls, he felt close to exploding. It had gotten very dark outside by now, he had called some of his subordinates to look for you whilst going out himself to search for you. What if you'd been kidnapped by someone? You could run into all sorts of dangerous people outside which was rather ironic coming from the Executive himself.

What if something had happened to you? He could never forgive himself if anything-

As soon as his phone started ringing, showing him that one of his men was calling him, he quickly accepted their call.

"Did you find them?" he asked aggressive and agitated. He'd gotten far too many calls already of others informing him that they hadn't found you in the locations they had searched for you.

"We did but..."

"But what?" he hissed into the phone, on the verge of breaking the device with how tightly he was clutching the object. What had happened?

"They...they found the corpse. We suspect that (m/n) must have contacted them when noticing that they were being followed."

Chuuya felt the colour draining from his face. He was used to such gruesome sights but you...

"How are they?"

"In shock, boss. What should we do now?"

"Get them out of there without causing any ruckus. Get them in the car. Meet me there."

---

It was a heart-breaking sight when he arrived at the location and spotted you sitting in the car. Your eyes still wide with shock, looking into the empty space as the horrifying image you'd seen was still haunting you.

One of his men approached him when he saw Chuuya with a serious expression on his face.

"How is (y/n)?"

"Still in shock but they've talked with us. They...they seem to know that you were the one behind the murder. They sounded pretty convinced when they asked us if it was you. How should we proceed now? Normally witnesses have to be-"

He shut up quickly when he was grabbed by his collar and yanked down, going down on his knees with the gloved hand of Chuuya seured around their neck.

"Suggest even once killing my love and I'll see it through that you'll end the same way the pesk from earlier did, understood?"

The man quickly nodded, sweat forming on his forehead as he stared into the brooding storm of emotions behind his superior's grey eyes. The commotion among the other men still standing by the car arouse your attention as you looked up only to spot Chuuya, the sight of him triggering the terrible sight of the deformed body only to re-appear, the vivid memory of the overwhelming scent of blood yet underneath that all a hint of something very familiar. You would recognize the scent of that cologne everywhere, it had after all been the one you'd gifted Chuuya for his birthday. You'd chosen it ourself, deeming it to be the one he'd enjoy the most. That's how you had been able to tell.

“Babe…! Shit! I’m sorry you had to see this, but please believe me! They deserved it!"

Had he done that with his own hands? Could a human being even do something like that to another human being? You weren't sure as that was a question requiring deep thoughts and time, you did notice though that your body instinctively flinched away from him. Betrayal and horror bled through your shocked facial expression as you stared at him, your mind starting to imagine how he might have gone about it, deforming (m/n) the way he did.

"No,no,no, don’t be scared of me. You know I would never harm you.”

"But you'd harm others in such dehumanizing ways." you blurred out before you could stop yourself, still not letting yourself be touched by his hands as you shuffled further away from him. You'd never seen him as conflicted as Chuuya did right now, torn apart on how to proceed right now. You hadn't been supposed to find out, especially not the way you'd done now.

"It-It'll be fine somehow, alright? I'll find a way to fix it."

Your eyes seemed to clear a bit when hearing those words and gave him such a look of disappointment, regret and sadness that he almost had the urge to turn his back on you.

"Fine? Nothing is fine, Chuuya. And it'll never will be again."

Who was he even trying to kid with his words right now?

#yandere bungou stray dogs #yandere bungo stray dogs #yandere bsd #yandere chuuya #yandere nakahara chuuya