#not cringe enough to put more effort into these but i just needed to get thes out there cause these are so dumb | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

syrma-sensei · 4 months

Text

→ Hush Hush Behind The Shield.

gif credit.

pairing: soldier boy/ben x wife!reader.

rating: explicit.

warnings: vought's ungodly shenanigans, mentions of cheating, couple fighting, angst, misogyny, antiquated mentality, dub-con, power imbalance, fingering, forced orgasms, angry sex, cock riding...

word count: 3.4k

summary: being america's greatest hero's wife has its perks, but they don't come for free...

taglist: @zepskies, @deansbbyx, @kaleldobrev, @k-slla, @deanbrainrotwritings, @deans-spinster-witch, @venus-haze, @thebiggerbear...

A/N: I'd like to thank my two pretty moots, @kaleldobrev who's been always there for me, listening to mental blurbs and chaotic spews of unhinged ideas and continuous mind dump ❤️ and @zepskies who bares my energy, which can be a bit much, each time I spam her dms with life cringing memes and awaful reacts ❤️

Kneeling down on one knee, your mitted hands hoisted the oven door close as you hummed a melody to yourself. Turning on your heels, you stood up and gave the dining table a once-over before allowing a proud grin slip on your lips.

“Perfect.”

Then your eyes glanced at your watch. It was half an hour past seven in the evening. Perfect. There'd be enough time to pamper yourself in a relaxing shower and spruce up with no rush before your husband was home.

You gave the dining room another glimpse to make sure everything was in place before you headed to the bathroom upstairs, walking through the living room where the T.V. displayed a Soldier Boy anti-drugs commercial.

A snore escaped your nose upon hearing the phrase: “Just say no.” Remembering how your husband threw a fit behind the scenes at how stupid it was, to the point of getting Stan Edgar himself on the line for him to find an alternative to it. Because no way he was saying that shit.

“God, I sounded like a fucking douchebag,” He'd told you in his dressing room, a smouldering reefer hanging between his lips — the irony, after they wrapped filming up.

You'd giggled, playfully plucking it from his lips to take a drag of your own, “No, baby, you did just fine.” You purred, and his mouth curled up into a small grin, “The public needs that y'know…” You tipped his chin up, your polished, long nails grazed lightly to his skin, “You're America's golden son, right? You're the man everyone should look up to.”

“Damn sure they should.” He'd chuckled, leaning down for a kiss which you gladly welcomed.

Being Soldier Boy's wife came with many many perks, but it also had its downsides, one of which was to have to deal with his short temper. But what could you say? You loved the man. Ardently so; you literally fought the world to have him all for yourself despite Vought's disapproval of your nuptial.

You savoured the victory when you married Ben in a small ceremony without Vought's blessing. It was like a slap to them when Ben imparted upon them the happy news, he delivered them a severe black eye, especially the vainglorious bastard Edgar. Who had once told you that you and Ben wouldn't work out, for it was simply "inconvenient" for a superhero like Soldier Boy to be involved in a serious relationship with a mere… human; it'd be a "disappointment" in the public eye, as he put it. Like he had a say in the matter.

But here you were, with a ring on your left hand to swagger about, and happily married to America's first hero, Edgar and Vought could say hello to your middle finger.

To nobody's surprise, you resented Vought, and held such abhorrence against them for not letting you and your husband live the life you wanted for yourselves. Despite your personal efforts, your proclaimed triumph was soon cut short because Vought declined to go public and endorse your marriage. Not that you and your husband gave two shits about their approval, but the rules were rules. And their lawyers affirmed that a public exposure of your marriage might damage Soldier Boy's rep, therefore, Vought's; given the fact that you were more than thirty years younger than him. They couldn't have it said that the hero of heroes was a creep even though they'd tried to conceal his age when he and Phoebe Cates starred in Love And War because it started to seem fishy. It was expected, though. But what you didn't see coming was Ben's response, or lack of response as to put it.

Despite being even more obdurate about this marriage than yourself. You felt terribly abjured by your husband. You'd thought he'd fight for you, for what you both had, and he'd want to let the world know about you. It'd broken your heart when it dawned upon you that Ben wouldn't risk his fame and glory for anyone, for you. Reluctantly, you bit the bullet, you had to, for him, because you loved him, and would do anything to keep this marriage intact. If you had to compromise for it, then so be it. You didn't care.

To your solace, Ben never changed after the frustrating incident; he was still the man you fell in love with. He might be smug, crass, and insufferable to everyone but you could still perceive the tender side he had though he'd never actually admit it, and you never pushed him too much. You were subtle enough to know when to stroke his ego and when to tease it. He was a man, after all. But it was obvious; he was a doting husband who cherished you in his own way. He showered you with gifts, and pampered you when he could. And he was eager to have babies with you. He never ceased to express how rapturous he would be if he were to have a son. A child with you.

Sure, you had your own qualms about that particular day, and there was more than a time you wanted to have a conversation with him about it. But you couldn't bring yourself to screw it up with stupid doubts. If Ben hadn't truly loved you, he wouldn't have treated you the way he did, he wouldn't have brought you to his workplace to have you at his side — and to poke Vought's eye every single time. He wouldn't have let you in and told you about his family and his dad, about his fucked-up childhood and how he became a hero.

No, your bond was bigger than any fleeting thoughts of incredulity.

You crooned softly as you wrapped a towel around your body after you finished your shower. Stepping out, you rubbed your hair with another towel and made your way down towards the kitchen to check on the pie.

Oh, Ben liked pies. You found it amusing how he'd swallow a whole pie alone and wouldn't affect him one bit; a supe sure required a lot of calories. Sometimes, you wished you had his great metabolism.

The moreish scent of baked dough and chocolate told you it was ready. You opened the oven door with a protected hand and placed the delicious pie by the window to let it cool down while you dressed up.

On your way back to your bedroom, you padded through the living room again. Your eyes glanced fleetingly at the screen only to stop abruptly in your tracks. A slight frown made it to your face as you saw a picture of Ben and Crimson Countess together. You never liked Countess. Something about her always disturbed you, and your guts were right.

Your eyes roamed the headline over and over, dilating in stupor.

Breaking News: Soldier Boy and Crimson Countess are officially together, Vought announced.

You shook your head in disbelief, hand grasping the remote control from the couch, shivering fingers shuffling through the channels.

Soldier Boy finally found the one!

Your heart paced up with each press.

A long awaited power couple is now here!

Vought just shocked the world by—

And here's Soldier Boy and Countess's statement…

It was hard to quell your simmering anger when you saw your husband smiling face with that bitch between his arms. Camera flashes and clicks swarmed around them with an entourage of reporters and interviewers.

“Hey, Soldier Boy, now you're together, what can you tell us about the first time you saw Countess? Was it love at first?” A reporter asked.

Ben scratched his beard with his gloved hand, drawling “First time I met Tess was when Vought concocted a hero collab years ago, remember that honey?”

You did remember that event very clearly. You were still Ben's secret girlfriend at the time, and it was exclusive to superheroes, yet Ben brought you there as his date.

Ben grinned as if dreamily reminiscing about the memory as he continued, “And lemme tell ya one thing, this one is a firecracker.”

Countess giggled playfully, gazing up at your husband in the most flirtatious way, it made you gag with disgust.

You scoffed bitterly at the blatant lies spurting right in your face. That specific night, Ben had childishly grumbled and complained about how much he wanted to be out of there. And to spice things up, he playfully dragged you from the pristine hall the event took place in, and fucked you raw against one of the wall of some other hall, keeping your panties as a souvenir for the rest of the soirée. He kept teasing you through the entire night, riling and messing you up. At the time, it was thrilling and venturous. Now, however, it knotted at the tip of your stomach. His focus that day was solely on you. He wasn't even aware of the bitch's presence for all you care.

“And when I first saw her… knew she was the one….”

You couldn't comprehend what Ben said after that point as a deafening buzz bolted through your ears. Tears rolled down your cheeks, and soon they were streaming from your eyes as you stood numb on your spot. Your tears splattered on the ground along with your heart.

“Honey, I'm home.” Ben announced once he stepped in the house. He sighed, putting his shield down and making his way to the kitchen where you usually would be, making his dinner. He didn't take his boots off though he knew you'd throw a fit about it, but let's just say that teasing and screwing with you was his favourite hobby. His anticipating grin soon dropped and a small scowl knitted his brows when an odd mixture of scents wafted into his nose. His eyes dilated at the unusual messy scene in the kitchen; the table was flipped over, glass splints scattered all over the floor, freshly-cooked food covering the carpet beneath the dining table, and a chocolate pie was squashed into the wall.

With a pacing heart, Ben cried your name, and hurriedly climbed up the stairs. His feet darted to the bedroom when he heard you sniffling and weeping.

An audible sigh of relief flouted out of chest when he saw you. Your hair was wet and a damp towel wrapped around your body, but his eyebrow quirked up when he noticed you packing a bag on the bed. The fuck?

“(Y/N), the fuck is going here?” You scared the shit outta me. He wanted to say, after the shitty day he had, he just wanted to have you in his arms and play with your hair.

You startled for a moment when you heard his southern accent. You used to be fond of it, but today you were certainly not.

“I'm leaving.” Your answer came out curt, your hands tugging your bag zippers close.

You heard his footsteps getting closer until you felt his hand on your bare shoulder, “What happened to you, sweetheart?”

You pulled yourself away from his hold, hissing, “Don't you fucking touch me!”

He didn't seem to heed your warning as he reached a hand to your face. Gritting your teeth, you spun around with your hand ready to deliver a slap to his cheek. However, and no matter how fast and pissed you were, he was always quicker and alerter. Fucking supe.

“You don't get to touch me ever again you asshole!” You shrieked, yanking your wrist from his grasp, your wet hair stuck to your face, chest heaving with each breath.

“The fuck is wrong with you, woman?!” He growled with a deep scowl, “Just left you all happy and giggling in the morning, is it here? Your time of the month again?”

“Fuck you!” You spat, clenched hands rising up to his chest, “You're my fucking problem,” You jabbed a fist to chest, though he didn't move an inch, but damn didn't it feel good! You blew another punch to his stupidly firm chest again and again.

“Fucking Christ!” He grumbled, and with one strong arm, Ben wrangled your back against his chest and caged you in his steel hold, one hand securing both of your wrists above your head, “Calm the fuck down!”

Legs kicking and hands tugging, you tried to wriggle out of his arms but to no avail, you felt so helpless against his raw strength. Your anger and frustration poured out of your mouth in a wailing, broken voice, “Leave. Me. Alone!” You bellowed, “Go to your fucking Crimson Bitch!” Two rivulets of tears drizzled from your eyes again, “Go to your fucking Tess and let her fire-crack your nuts, you fucking pussy!”

“Christ on a cross, do you hear yourself talk, woman?!”

His eyes widened before his eyebrows scrunched deeply. He took you off guard when he brought you down to the floor as he crouched on one knee. Your towel unwrapped at the sudden movement and you were naked beneath his eyes. His hands were still holding you in place.

Two green eyes regarded you softly, “You really took that marketing shit for real?” He thumbed your lower lip, and his free hand trailed down your naked form. “Fucking hell, thought you were way smarter than that, sweetheart.” You shivered from both the cold and his touch, his sinful reaching your mound, “You really think I'd fucking leave you for her?”

You couldn't suppress the moan when he stroked your throbbing clit. A shot of arousal seeped out of your opening much to Ben's satisfaction. Anger made the colour of your face rise, “Fuck you! Fuck your bitch! Fuck Vought!” You spat, your eyes burning holes into his as he proceeded toying with your flesh until your voice broke, “Y-You want me to buy your shit — Ah!” Two of his thick and expert digits entered your slit, massaging your love spots thoroughly. “After you didn't stand up for our marriage?!” You groaned, hips rolling to the rhythm of his fingers.

“Is that so?” His brow quirked up amusedly. Was this funny to this bastard? Was your marriage some kind of a joke to him?

You gasped as he deliberately hit your weak spot; sweet, delightful coils fluttered at the tip of your stomach, “I was under the fucking impression that you had your pretty, little head wrapped around how this fucking business worked!” He snarled.

“Fuck you! I hate you!” Your body snapped as you came abundantly on his fingers which made him grin slyly down at you.

You felt his grip on your wrists loosen, so you took your window and jerked yourself free. He was shocked when you pushed him down on the floor and straddled his hips, your dripping cunt was drenching his pants with your cum. He raised a playful brow at you but soon was replaced by a shocked frown when you slapped his irritatingly handsome face.

“Fucking hell, you fucking little ballbuster—”

You shushed him with a finger on his lips, “You're fucking mine, Benjamin, you hear me! You're fucking mine!” You hissed, having no idea where your vigour came from as you tore his shirt off of his chest. His length poked you when you gazed with searing fire in your eyes at his, “You. Belong. To. Me.” You furiously tucked his pants and boxers down, his cock springing out with life.

A wanton moan came off your lips as you sunk yourself down his cock, whereas he grumbled in pleasure as you hugged him tightly with your wet and warm insides.

You snapped your hips harshly and he growled, “Fuck, doll—!”

Another snap, your voice was laboured, “I own you. You're married not to that whore, not to Vought, but to me!”

Your skin slammed against his meat vehemently as you gritted your teeth when another orgasm was spiralling in your body. You paced up your movement, a hand banging demandingly on his chest, “Say it! You're fucking mine!”

“Holy shit!” You watched his eyes roll backwards as he rasped, “Yours, babe,”

“Holy fuck, Ben! Ben, I'm coming again!”

That was his cue to take control again. He sat up, cradling you in his warm hold, “Cum to me, babe, fucking soak my cock.” You wabled his name, clinging to his shoulders as your climax stormed out of your body like a mad hurricane. You whimpered pathetically when his two large hands on your hips kept making you ride him through your high.

“Fucking stupid girl,” He growled, shooting his seed up your insides.

With laboured breaths, you glared at each other. You felt his cock softening inside of you, “Fucking idiot man.” You scoffed.

He chuckled with a boyish grin on his sweaty face, “That was fucking hot, think I like this wild side of you, darlin'”

You snickered, “You bet, wait until you see what I'm gonna do with that little fuck, Edgar.”

Ben rumbled a deep chortle, much to your annoyance, would this man ever take you seriously? “I swear to fucking Christ, Ben, if they—you don't break off that stupid shit with Countess and go public about us, I'll fucking burn that fucking tower to the fucking ground, because I'm fucking done with this—mhmmm!”

He cut you off with a scorching kiss and its heat made you thaw against his lips. His cock twitched inside of you.

“Jealousy looks pretty on you though, sweetheart” He teased, his lips brushing to yours.

God, damn this man and his endless ego! “Ben!” You nudged him playfully.

“Can't wait to see you wanting to snatch some ladies' heads off when we go to balls together.”

You smiled at him, biting on your bottom lip. The idea of finally being acknowledged as Ben's wife warmed your heart, and his willingness to do so made your heart race. However, disturbing thoughts loomed in your head again, “Think Vought will let us be?” You asked with hesitation. Fuck, that shit really got too deep into you.

He rolled his eyes, “Try not to work your pretty head hard 'bout this, doll,” He tucked a tress of your hair behind your ear, “The man who fucking beat the Nazis can handle some sweaty fucknuts at Vought.” There was something warmly reassuring about his smugness.

“See? All that shit wouldn't happen if you didn't stay silent while they fucking tried to play their fucking game!”

Ben chuckled, “Well, the fucking was totally worth it.”

You groaned in frustration, “Ben… I thought you abandoned me.”

Your husband furrowed his brows at you, “You women hardly think sometimes, don't you?” You scowled at his remark but he sighed, cradling your cheeks in his warm hands, “I fucking fought to make you my wife. I fucking put my whole career and name at risk for you.” You blinked at him, “The day before we tied our knot, I fucking told the boardroom that I was marrying you, that I'd fucking walk off if they tried anything funny… they didn't, till fucking today.” He sighed, “They fucking announced that bullshit before I was even told.”

“Assholes,” You whispered.

“After that pathetic act, I fucking stormed to Edgar like I stormed Normandy. Let's say that he and I did a little bit of chatting,” He gave you a conceited smirk, giving you no detail of how he got scared shitless when he saw the mess in the kitchen. He thought Vought dared to fucking do something to you. And when he heard you cry he feared the worst. But of course, he wouldn't tell you anything about that. Because he was the fucking man of this house; if his feelings of fear appeared, the sense of security he provided to this house, to you, would crumble. And he wouldn't have that. Ever.

You, on the other hand, had a weird combination of pride and happiness sprouted within your chest.

“I'm so sorry, Ben…” You said, cupping his face in your hands, “I-I don't know what came over me when I saw you with her,” You couldn't even say her name.

“Couldn't have your man stolen away, could you?” He teased you.

“Never.” You answered, “And I'm sorry for what happened, husband.”

“I mean you did make it up for me, wife,” He flashed you a cheeky grin, “Though, I don't feel particularly in a forgiving mood… yet.”

Head tilting to the side, your raised an eyebrow, rolling your hips teasingly on his cock, “Don't push your luck…”

“Try me.”

#soldier boy #soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy smut #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #soldier boy x y/n #the boys imagine #the boys fanfic #the boys #the boys amazon #soldier boy/ben

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undiscovered-horizon · 11 months

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"Four Crow Investigation II: Lovebirds' Outfox" - Kaz Brekker x Reader

[Four Crow Investigation]

☽ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ☾

Enjoying my work? You can leave me a tip on Ko-Fi

SUMMARY: Nina and the rest of "crow-vestigators" are not as inconspicuous as they think. Being a little too spiteful for your own good, Kaz and you string them along. What the amateur detectives consider "evidence" of an affair is actually a well-thought-out scenario.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 2.1k

>>Grishaverse-inspired playlist<<

You stare with amusement as Wylan, Jesper, Inej and Nina are sitting around the table in a hardly inconspicuous manner. They’re leaning so close to each other, their bodies are covering their faces but you don’t need to read their lips or expressions to know exactly what they’re talking about. Meaningful glances, small nudges, animated whispering - none of that escaped your attention.

Then, you feel Kaz squeezing your hand in an attempt to shift your focus from the gossiping friends back to him. His eyebrows are slightly raised in a silent question.

"Do you think they know that we know that they know?" you ask, cringing at the word salad filled with repetitions.

"No," Kaz answers without hesitation. "Considering how long it took them to notice something so obvious, their observation skills are more underwhelming than I had originally thought."

The two of you glance towards your friends once more, left to only guess what tall tales they were making up. Observation skills, Kaz’s voice resounds in your head. Yes, they are good at noticing things they are desperately looking for, so, maybe, if they are looking for crumbs…

"Actually, I have an idea,” you begin in a hushed tone. Kaz turns to look at you, his expression hardens the moment he notices your mischievous grin. “Up for a bit of roleplay?"

It’s been a wild week for the four Crows. They sat down at a corner table, across the club from you and Kaz talking about something by the bar counter. Absorbed by the conversation, you’re pouring a drink in a record-long time. Your hand hovers above the rum bottle as you’re closely listening to Kaz saying something. Then, to the surprise of the gossip club, you erupt in laughter.

Jesper frowns. “I’m telling you, there’s two of them. She gets the nice Kaz, we get the mean one.”

“No, the mean Kaz is still inside,” Inej refutes. “The nice one is making an effort to bury him but he’s definitely in there. Saw it myself.”

He turns back towards the group. Jesper puts his finger up in a warning gesture and speaks slowly: “Do not tell me Kaz Brekker is a knight in shining armour because there is no way I’m treating that as anything but a bad joke. I’m barely believing the stuff I’ve seen with my own two eyes.”

“N-no, there is some truth to that,” Wylan interjects. “I didn’t see him get angry,” he quickly adds, ”just… strangely protective.”

“So we can agree,” Nina says with expected giddiness, “there is passion in the perpetually grim Kaz Brekker.”

Jesper squints his eyes with suspicion. “I hate the fact that you used passion and Kaz in the same sentence but at the same time I’m curious why.”

“Oh, you’re going to love it!” She taps the table excitedly. “I’ll go first.”

╚ Nina’s Evidence ╝

You’re pacing around the office, jumping from one leg to another, shaking and fidgeting as much as you can without making much noise. While preparing to fool the Heartrender’s power, you’re ensuring that you look the part:

“Is this obscene enough?” you ask unbuttoning your shirt further. Tugging at your clothing, you’re making yourself look even more disheveled. Even the smallest sound outside the office door makes you jump as you’re impatiently waiting for a certain creek of one of the steps.

Kaz doesn’t answer. His watchful eyes are following your movements as he’s focusing on keeping his attention on the task at hand. That bright mind of his, however, fights relentlessly to memorize your unkempt look instead.

Not hearing him respond to your question, you turn around to look at Kaz. Leaning against the desk, he’s just staring at you with a quite inexplicable intensity. His unspoken passion is only making the voice in the back of your head louder: what if it was Him undoing my shirt?

But you stifle this thought. It’s not the time for this. Searching for distraction, you look at Kaz’s collar - the first two buttons are undone but they make him appear more sleepy rather than caught red handed at a moment of weakness.

“May I?” you ask, gesturing towards his garment.

“Go ahead,” he quietly answers. There’s a lot of trust in his lack of movement and calmness about your closeness.

Carefully, you grab the hem of his collar and open his shirt further, while making sure your fingers do not even graze the bare skin underneath, despite the urge sitting deep inside your abdomen. Then, you take a step back, examining his general state and whether it sets a believable scene. A proud smile creeps onto your face.

“You’re really enjoying this,” Kaz states.

“Actually,” you say as you lean against the table, fairly unaware that because of your disheveled clothing your cleavage is significantly more visible, “I’d be enjoying this little scheme a lot more if we were in fact being scandalous.”

Whether that was your objective or not, Kaz’s heartbeat picks up noticeably, his rogue mind flashing explicit images before his eyes.

A creek of stairs.

You and Kaz give each other a meaningful glance and you push the paperweight off the desk, knowing that Nina can hear it. The door swings open and you’re immediately in character, looking away with the most embarrassed expression you could muster.

Kaz clears his throat. “Is there a reason why you’re barging in?”

Nina looks a bit lost, still piecing together what she might have just interrupted. “I… uhm… I talked with Lizzie Hardy. She’s in, we can count on her.”

“Understood,” he says in a low, firm voice. “Now go. And learn to knock.”

A half-grin enters her face as she gets rid of any doubts as to what the two of you had been presumably occupied with before she entered. With a skip to her step, Nina throws a “You bet I will!” before leaving the office. She’s quite sure no one will have a better gossip than her.

╚ Wylan’s Evidence ╝

Wylan is startled by your yelp of pain, almost dropping the delicate vial in his hands. His focus immediately shifts to you, who is now frowning with your hand raised slightly above your head. A string of curses leaves your mouth as you check the wound again - yes, still there and still bleeding.

Right, bleeding.

“Are you okay?” he asks in a worried tone. Part of you feels guilty for fooling Wylan because of the sheepiness he wears most of the time but, on the other hand, he is part of the gossip girl club. This little scheme is just a consequence of his choice.

“Yeah, no problem. I’m a big girl, I’ll just wrap this and I’ll be fine,” you answer casually.

Pretending to look for something that can work as a bandage, you’re praying that Wylan can’t smell the cranberry preserve slowly dripping down your forearm. There’s an urge deep inside you to lick the jam, almost tasting the sweet and sour fruit in your imagination.

Kaz, who was waiting for the well-played-out yelp, rushes into the room with a grim expression. The moment he’s supposed to notice your injury, he makes a show of dropping his shoulders. He’s not saying anything, only giving short sighs and annoyed grunts as he reaches for a random rag laying around.

“I’d advise against cutting off your fingers,” he says loud enough for Wylan to hear as he’s tightening the wrapped rag around your palm. "You need to be more ca-" Kaz cuts himself off, suddenly realizing he was about to use an off-limits word. "You need to pay attention to what you're doing."

Looking over Kaz’s shoulder, you see Wylan nervously glancing at the two of you out of the corner of his eyes. Jesper is going to hear world-shattering news in the next hour - on that you can safely bet any number of limbs.

╚ Jesper’s Evidence ╝

Too busy retelling what he had learned while following Lizzie Hardy, Jesper doesn’t notice the tiny signal you give Kaz while the three of you are walking through the streets of Ketterdam.

Air, cobblestone, a lost dog - it doesn’t matter. You stumble over something but ever watchful Kaz manages to grab you by the waist, preventing you from falling. To be honest, until this moment you weren’t completely sure this is going to work out because you never practiced this with Kaz. Well, you did, once, but the two of you got significantly distracted early on. So the plan to outfox Nosy Jesper was a leap of faith - literally and figuratively.

Jesper, the man in question, halted his story as he’s watching the unbelievable occurrence of Kaz having a caring reflex. For a moment he considers whether this wasn’t some kind of miraculous coincidence but on the other hand, the movement looked so natural and purposeful that it simply had to be deliberate.

Standing on your own, you look towards Jesper, who’s still staring at you and Kaz with furrowed eyebrows and his mouth slightly agape. “You were saying?” you coax him to continue as though nothing happened.

“Yes, right, the thing,” he stutters out as he’s trying to remember what he was talking about before seeing something so strange he’s questioning his own sanity.

╚ Inej’s Evidence ╝

Due to the late hour, or rather an hour so late it can be considered early, the club is deserted except for you and Kaz sitting by the bar. He’s silently watching your profile as you’re applying another layer of theatrical paint and makeup.

“Does it look realistic?” you ask for the hundredth time while examining the bruise in a small hand-held mirror.

“It’s good enough.”

You set down the mirror and look at him. To a degree, you know he won’t agree to your proposition but you try anyway, just to make sure:

“Maybe you could hit me?” you suggest. His expression grows colder. “Just for good measure. To really sell this,” you add in your own defense, as though there is a possibility of him retaliating for such a ridiculous proposition. Even when furious beyond imagination, you’ve heard him yell exactly once out of anger.

He leans closer towards you. Paradoxically, it’s you who is uncomfortable with the sudden intimacy but maybe the uneasiness is not due to the proximity but the chilling tension that has sprouted between the two of you. Kaz studies your expression for a moment, his jaw relaxes and clenches over and over again as he’s clearly pondering the earthiest way he can put his thoughts into words.

“I will never raise my hand against you,” his voice is quiet and wavering with emotions, “even if my life depends on it. So don’t ask again. Ever.”

Suddenly, you feel strangely small next to him as though Kaz is but a shadow that quickly grows larger as candlelight dims. “Right, sorry,” you answer awkwardly.

The door to the club opens with a creek and the nervous conversation has to be cut short. You cover your face with hands, having rubbed some chili seeds into your palms earlier. As the capsaicin reaches your nostrils and eyes, forcing yourself to cry is easier than ever. Pretending to be agonizing over something, you keep reminding yourself not to actually touch your eyes or nose.

You can’t see her face but you’re sure Inej is wearing a worried or confused expression and you’re quite correct in your guess - she walks towards you and Kaz with apprehension as though she’s still wondering whether she wants to intrude. Inej momentarily grows anxious, noticing the vibrant bruise on the side of your face.

Then, in a truly dramatic fashion, Kaz gets up from the bar stool and storms out of the club as you had agreed beforehand. While he’s passing Inej, she calls out to him:

“Kaz-”

But he’s quick to cut her off in a harsh voice:

“Not now, Inej.”

The door closes behind him with a slam and considering the state of the two of you, she prefers not to ask questions. It will be easier to sleep at night.

“They’re staring,” you inform Kaz while pouring him a drink.

“As far as I know, they have a reason to,” he answers, taking a sip of the beverage. His eyes are boring into you like his trying to look past your skin and bones, into your mind if not your very soul.

A wide smile brightens your face. You lean on the counter, face close to Kaz’s. Although it’s been some time, it still makes your heart flutter that he doesn’t move away. Perhaps it’s just his unreadable expression or maybe he really is unbothered by the proximity.

“To be honest, I enjoyed our little theatrics.” Smiling at him, your teeth glisten in the dim light inside the club.

“You make an impressive con artist, I have to admit.”

“Ah, forget the con part,” you wave your hand in dismissal. “It was entertaining, alright, but the best part was just spending time with you.”

Kaz almost chokes on his drink.

____ @moonstruckpoet @shara-ne @queenkalico

#kaz brekker fanfic #kaz brekker fanfiction #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker #kaz brekker x you #kaz brekker x y/n #kaz brekker x fem!reader #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone fanfiction #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone fanfic #shadow and bone #six of crows fanfiction #six of crows imagine #six of crows x reader #six of crows #six of crows fanfic #six of crows x you

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octopotto · 7 months

Text

Brain Rot: TWST Cast with Saitama! Reader

OCTO NOTE: College has been absolutely brutal. These headcanons were worked on bit by bit these past few months :(

I saw some TWST fics that used pre-exsiting characters to based the MC off of and I wanted to try w/ one of my favourite characters.

WARNINGS: NOT PROOF-READ, OOC Behaviour, this is so cringe but very self-indulgent, mc is the most sane person in this universe, you decide if mc is bald or not, yandere if you squint hard enough.

SPOILERS FOR: TWISTED WONDERLAND

**The reader will ALWAYS be Gender-Neutral!

———————————-••———————————

Life at Night Raven College would be much more peaceful if MC had Saitama’s strength lol

Problems would've been solved quicker as well.

At first glance, you don’t seem to be a threat.

To most, you look like a regular, magic-less human on the outside.

And that’s what makes you so dangerous.

Don’t fuck around and overblot unless you have a death wish.

The Overblot crew definitely had one when MC swung their fist at them.

The whole prologue would be shortened.

Fun fact: You accidentally put too much force on the coffin door to get out, thus smashing Grim in the process while he was prying it open :D

Grim, the Ramshackle ghost, and Crowley were the first group to witness your impressive strength.

And by impressive, they mean terrifying.

To Crowley and Grim at least.

The ghost were shocked but very much amused after a couple moments.

God knows how the Ramshackle Dorm was still in one piece after that.

Grim is very happy to have a strong minion to protect him

Just don’t hurt him like you did with the ghost pls. And the door lol

Crowley would be most likely absolutely be afraid and made a mental note to keep track of you.

Especially since you were almost successful to killing him in his ghost form. He’s making sure that Ramshackle gets fixed quicker.

Crowley: “Great Sevens… How do they have such monstrous strength... This stowaway is just a magicaless human! My…what have I gotten myself into?? *sobs* OH IF I WASN’T SUCH A KIND AND GENEROUS SOUL I WOULD NOT LET THIS TYPE OF BEHAVIOUR BE PRESENT ON MY CAMPUS” *more obnoxious sobbing*

You and Grim: 😶😐????

Despite scaring and almost killing the shit out of the Headmaster, you still start off as a janitor lol.

Fast forward to the Mine Incident with Ace, Deuce, and Grim—

You basically massacred that monster.

A monster that probably injured many Mages and Wizards

You destroyed it in one punch.

On that day, Ace reminded himself to never piss you off again. Ever.

He loves cherry pie, but would rather not become the filling itself, thanks.

Deuce probably was gawking at you after the shock.

Not in a bad way

But in a good way y'know?

But he’s too shy to ask for advice for now.

This is basically the start of Deuce idolizing you and your strength.

Brain Rot:

Ace, Deuce and Grim are your self-proclaimed bodyguards.

At least THEY like to think that they are.

Listen, they know that you are MORE THE CAPABLE protecting yourself in fights or in any physical confrontations.

But that’s it.

You’re basically shit at everything else.

From completing your assignments to even showing up to class, it seems like in the trio's eyes that you NEED THEM to take care of you. You all are like family now!

So they all make an effort to help you out when you need it.

No really, if you keep forgetting to submit that one potion essay that Crewel keeps smacking your shiny ass head to complete, you’re going to get left behind.

They’re more like secretaries than bodyguards lol.

The post-overblot Spelldrive tournament was an absolute nightmare.

Well, at least for everyone but Ace, Deuce, and Grim.

They were GLOATING about how they were in the lead and challenged anyone to try and top them like the smug, over-confident assholes they are.

The only reason why they were in the lead was because of you. Simple as that.

The Savannaclaw gang put up a good fight

For the first 10 minutes in the match.

All Leona could do at that moment was strategize how not to get his and his teammate’s heads chopped off by the disc you kept throwing at them.

You are quite fond of Ruggie

More specifically: you were fond of Ruggie’s haggling skills.

If were had a choice to trade your god-like strength for his haggling skills and techniques, you wouldn’t hesitate one bit.

And y’know it wouldn’t be Ruggie if he didn’t take advantage of this. He would offer you advice and tell you if theres a huge sale going on at a near-by grocery store if you promise to lend him a hand whenever he needed it.

You were so tempted to say no

Not because he was shady and overall untrustworthy

You’re just lazy

This is his way to spend more time with you but he would never admit that out-loud.

If your MC is bald, instead of Floyd squeezing you, he will smack and ‘dribble’ your head as if it was basketball.

Jamil and Ace especially are amused.

God forbid you ever get a bad tan on the top of your scalp

You will NEVER hear to end of it.

Floyd also is your biggest bully.

jk but not really

Yeah he knows that you could probably kill him with a gentle tap

But when did that ever stop him?

He mainly does it because he wants to see your reactions

You’re so plain looking and your nonchalant voice and facial expressions do not help as well.

But remember only Floyd HIMSELF can do those things to you, okay? Only him.

If he ever finds out that some random NPC student was doing the same thing to you, You’re going to be finding that NPC tossed in a corner somewhere with almost all their joints mangled.

You like how generous Kalim is.

You probably helped him fan the fire off his ass in the ceremony

He’s was incredibly thankful and was able to remember what you looked like.

I mean, you literally saved him!

How could he not remember you?

You don't remember him but let’s not go there lol

Because you saved Kalim from being cooked, he always makes sure that you had enough food for the month!

He would practically beg, like BEG Jamil to make extras so you won’t go hungry.

Especially after experiencing what type of living conditions you were dealing with in Book 5.

Poor Jamil, not only is he working overtime for Kalim, but technically serving food for the person who ruined his plans back in Book 4.

Jamil packing food for you by Kalim’s request: 😡😡😡

totally did not try to poison your food on several occasions

Kalim also begs Jamil to let him deliver the food to you.

He can’t help it! He really enjoys seeing you happy when you receive something from him and Jamil.

You never complain about.

Free food = Saving money.

I mean, if you're being gifted something, why be rude and deny it?

Some students say that you were taking advantage of Kalim because of how easily you accept his gifts without anything in return.

And y'know they could be right

But Kalim doesn't mind.

As long as you're happy, he's happy :)

In Vil’s eyes, you are an enigma.

It’s like he can’t wrap his pretty little head around on how he feels about you.

On one hand, other than your god-like strength, you’re nothing special. When he first saw you he only disregarded you as another potato that’s not worth his precious time and effort on.

But on the other hand, Vil sees you as a blank slate. Something that ASKING for him to put his smooth and perfectly manicured fingers on. Someone that needs his guidance and skills.

He doesn’t care if you’re bald or have hair, it doesn’t derail him from the fact that despite you sticking out like a sore-thumb, you’re still so…plain looking.

You probably said some off-hand comment about how ‘Beauty is in the eye of the beholder’ to Vil and just walked off.

It might not meant anything to you

But it meant a lot to Vil.

When it came to the overblots and eventually Book 5, he felt as though he was in a spiral of questions that he himself must find the answers for.

And what were the questions that caused Vil’s current state of disarray about? You obviously.

He’s going mad

He can’t stand it.

You said that beauty is in the eye of the holder? Fine then.

He knows that he could do something for you.

Something marvellous, something beautiful.

For you and himself.

You had a new nickname for Malleus every time you guys end up running into eachother.

Malleus would always look forward to meeting you solely for the nicknames.

I believe that Saitama genuinely does not care enough to remember other people’s names that much

So that will be a trait for MC in this.

Malleus probably thinks this is a way humans show affection to each other.

In reality, you cannot for the life of you remember that weirdo's name.

Malleus: *Appears out of thin air in front of the MC*

Malleus: Greetings, Child of Man *smiles*

MC Thinking: ‘Why does this rando keep coming back? What was his name again?’

Malleus: *Anticipating their response with excitement*

MC: Uhhhh..

MC: Wassup…Horton? :D

Malleus: *Smiles at his new nickname*

It took a while for you to come up with a permanent nickname for him but he doesn't mind

In his eyes, it's your way of showing him how much you wanted to become closer companions.

Jack and Epel are always on your ass about “How to become stronger” and when you actually tell them the routine that you did at the beginning of your journey, they literally fell in disbelief.

They couldn’t believe it.

It was basically a simple workout routine

Both still believe that you’re hiding the secret of how you got to your level of strength.

Thus, joint workouts became also a thing within the NRC Campus and you are the leader.

Not by choice however.

Jack, Epel, and everyone else involved were really curious as to how you train.

I mean, look at what you can do! And you’re not even a Mage!

The first meeting was terrible due to the fact you almost obliterated the school.

One flick and the gym could’ve been in shambles.

That’s why Jack and Epel made sure to do it somewhere far and secluded.

And even then, you still created a lot of damage with minimal effort.

It’s incredible to those who look up to you.

Throughout the story, you gained some admiration and recognition along the way.

From Heartslaybul to Diasomnia, you unknowingly grab the admiration of those who either want to become stronger or see you as a hero.

Some might say that they see you as the messiah who was sent to protect the school.

But let’s not go that far.

You wouldn’t notice anyways

In your eyes they're all a bunch of weirdos.

———————————-••———————————

OCTO NOTE: Hopefully you guys enjoyed these very terrible brain-rot headcanons. I always found Saitama’s character interesting so I wanted to try out something new.

Again, I’ve been very busy so I can’t promise anything BUT I can say that there will be more Yandere FF7 fics coming soon! ;)

Thank you to everyone who enjoys my low-quality works! Hope you look forward to my new ones ❤️❤️

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1800-lemonadeg1rl · 28 days

Text

Jealousy

Wanda Maximoff x reader ☆

Minors dni!! Masterlist°•☆

Summary - pretty much is what it says on the tin. After you try to avoid your crush you find jealousy eating at you.

Warnings: stupid, possibly cringe, maybe a little angst? Idrk, happy ending, jealousy, gay,

A/n: this is the first fic I've written since I was thirteen and I did it just to avoid being involved with my parents fight. Also my grammar probably isn't that great bc I haven't slept in 2 days so pls comment any corrections. Any feedback is so so appreciated

You didn't know when it had started. How even. But you had somehow become infatuated with fellow avenger and best friend Wanda maximoff. To put it simply you had a crush on her, a stupid schoolgirl crush that was beginning to crash down on your friendship with her.

It was small things at first, avoiding eye contact so you wouldn't blush under her gaze or not sitting next to her at meals. Next it was finding reasons not to hang out alone.

Little to your knowledge Wanda had noticed all these things and had begun to wonder if she'd upset you in someway that maybe you didn't like her the way she'd always admired you. She tried to approach you to go out for lunch to try and apologise for whatever she thought you were upset about but before she'd had chance to speak you'd scurried off saying something about needing to train.

And so life went on for Wanda as heartbroken she was that you seemed to want to distance the close friendship youd shared that she'd once thought could be more she didn't want to spend forever alone and crushed.

Thats when your jealousy started.

"Yeah the date actually went really well last night." You'd heard the sweet sokovian accent ring out across the kitchen as you'd shuffled into get your breakfast. Still half asleep you mumbled as you poured a coffee.

"You've got a date?" It came out a little more territorial than you'd intended. Despite your small efforts to dissipate your crush on the woman you were still annoyed at whoever thought they could date the girl you liked, that you should be with.

Not that you were looking at her but Wandas face seemed to light up when you initiated a conversation with her. After weeks of dead silence she'd want nothing more than to hear your voice which she'd describe as honey like and melodic to the ears.

"Yes, yes I am. A second one actually." You could feel your face redden slightly and twitch in annoyance at the words that left Wanda's lips. A second?! Not only had she had one date with someone else it had gone so well they wanted a second.

"You shouldn't go out with them." The words leave your lips quicker than you can stop them. And you look to see Wanda's face, her mouth open wide as her bottom lip twitched slightly.

Shit. You'd upset her. You'd upset the girl you loved. "I... I.. I mean.." You stammered through your sentence trying to find an exscuse for what you'd said. "I just mean.. your an avenger you should do a background check on them first and.. uh.. make sure you know they're legit and not a spy or something." After saying that you quickly fled the kitchen leaving your full cup of coffee much to the confusion of Wanda who'd had just about enough of the way you were acting.

That evening you were in your room catching up on a drama you'd originally started with Wanda but since you'd decided youd ruined your friendship beyond recovery you wanted to finish it yourself.

Then came a small delicate knock on the door. That was how Wanda knocked. Oh god you recognised how she knocked now, how would you ever get over her?

"I'm working go awa-.." You tried to get out quickly at the door as you rapidly turned the tv down and hoped she'd leave you alone.

Before you were even done your sentence she'd interuppted and responded. "Don't say another word. I can hear killing eve (srry I can't think of another tv show) playing in there. Let me in so we can talk."

You waited a beat thinking about the small list options you had right now to avoid the confrontation at your door, none of which would work or were very smart and would probably be more embarrassing than admitting the truth. So reluctantly you let her in. Twisting the handle slowly giving her all the time she needed to change her mind and leave.

Unfortunately that didn't happen and instead she waited patiently before heading over to your bed a flopping down on it in the ever so casual way she used to. As if no time has passed.

"Okay speak. Tell me whats wrong? What did I do to you?" She asks looking up at you with what looks like anger? No, no it was hurt. Everything from her wide watery eyes to her sweaty palms read that she was hurt and was nervous to why you'd been avoiding her.

"Its not you." Was all you could manage to spit out in the moment. Why had you even avoided her so much when all it had done was harm your best friend.

"Okay so what is it?"

She was relentless, she wasn't going to leave until you explained yourself and your recent actions. Being honest you couldn't blame her if it was the other way round you'd want to know.

"I..." You stare at her gorgeous face eyes flicking between her plump lips and her soft, glimmering eyes even in this moment struggling to make eye contact with her without a blush spreading across your cheeks. "I like you.. as like more than friends."

You watched on as her face contorted. The way she bit the inside of her cheek and her soft eyes hardening in time with your admittal. The hurt was long gone and replaced with an annoyance that you had blanked her instead of admitting your feelings but also a small glimmer of hope that it wasn't too late for you two.

"So what? You didn't think to tell me." She gets up from the bed. "Your rational descion was to ignore me in hopes of what?!" She was pacing now. "In hopes of what?" She repeats and suddenly your also stood up trying to open your mouth to speak but she won't give you the time. "In hopes I'd dissappear or your feelings would and we could just be friends again?"

Meekly you nodded. You had ignored her to try and make your feelings go away.

"Did you not think about me? Maybe I wanted you to have feelings for me. Maybe I want to be with you." She was speaking again and nearing you with each word.

"I.. didn't think you liked me like that.. I thought that you'd hate me."you try and explain my poor actions. "Look I'm really sorry.. I didn't know you felt like this about me."

You grab her arm forcing her to stop angrily pacing around the room and to talk to you again hoping it would calm her slightly. "..please I am. I'm really sorry Wanda.. I've missed speaking to you so much, I've missed you so much." Your further apologies seem to lessen her anger as she realises what you had done was unintentional and you'd never meant to cause this.

"You can make it up to me then."

"How?" She was offering to forgive you and that was enough. You'd do anything to stop her being angry with you ever again.

"Take me on a date."

A/n - I can write a pt 2 or follow up if anyone is interested <33

#wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #marvel #wanda x you #wanda fluff #wanda #wanda maximoff fluff #idk how to tag this #wanda x fem!reader #wanda maxmoff x y/n #wanda maximommy #wanda maximoff x female reader #lemonade writes☆•

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amostnobleyandere · 7 months

Text

A Team Effort (Yandere! Diluc × GN! Reader) (Suggestive !!!)

*not quite nsfw, nothing happens except for a make-out session, but there is a huge implication at the end.

A/N: diluc and reader are both “nobles” bc I am eating these historical manwhas UP man. this is a little cringe but I needed an outlet

warning(s) 🚨: !!! yandere !!!, possessive behavior, non-consensual touching, non-consensual kissing,🚨 !!!! implied non-con at the end !!!!🚨, reader has a bad family but it’s not described in detail, kidnapping, forced marriage, obsessive behavior, betrayal, captivity, slight exhibitionism?? (Diluc is making out w reader and Kaeya’s just chilling there, watching)

*is suggestive but only bc diluc is getting friendly w reader’s neck and lips and leaving a bunch of hickies and the last line is !!VERY!! suggestive (it’s a tad bit steamy and very implicative), Kaeya is there too and he’s also *creepy* (they’re both morally questionable in this), Kaeya is in on Diluc’s yandere behavior, reader is an innocent bystander in all this bs, !!! Reader has a Shit Family (TM) !!!

summary: Feeling that the distance between your worlds was too wide, you never acted on the feelings you had for Diluc Ragnvindr. When Diluc proposes, you reject him. His brother decides to take matters into his own hands by delivering you to Diluc himself. Diluc doesn’t oppose the new arrangement, as long as you’re with him.

—————————

Soft lips trailed eagerly up your neck, across your collar bone, over any skin they could reach that had been previously covered by the light night shirt you wore. You felt an insane amount of heat seep through your skin at the contact. For hours your neck and lips had been receiving his attention; biting, bruising, worshipping to no end.

You tried not to squirm as his hands—his hot, hot hands—held you firmly in place; both of them settled on your hips, his unnatural warmth bleeding through the thin fabric and into your skin. Your back was pressed up against the headboard of the luxurious bed you had been sat upon. The man you were holding onto for dear life buried his head into the crook of your neck, using his tongue and teeth to suck and lick blooming marks into the sensitive skin. The deep scent of firewood, ink, and a strong cologne surrounded you, suffocating your senses and putting you into a delirious haze.

Your shirt had been tugged down and rested just above your chest. The man laying passionate kisses across your upper body had not dared to pull it any further. How gentlemanly he was, being considerate enough to allow you to cover up from his wandering eyes, and yet everything else he was doing was still highly inappropriate. He had pulled it down just enough to allow himself a taste, to run his fingers over the smooth expanse of skin that was once hidden to him by layers of clothing, and perhaps to make you look just the slightest bit debauched as his mouth marked anywhere it could reach.

—————————

You had been brought to the Ragnvindr Manor against your will. It was more like a quiet ambush than a kidnapping and, as you found out when it was was too late, it had been planned by your family without your knowledge.

It started when maids swiftly funneled into your room and started packing up your belongings; then those maids plus additional servants hurried you into an unfamiliar carriage, ushering you in. You found yourself sitting across from Kaeya Alberich, a man you had only exchanged a few polite words with in your entire life. He was grinning from ear to ear.

When you tried to open the door, it wouldn’t budge. Anxiety rose in your chest as Kaeya watched you struggle with a satisfied smile. That was when you had started to panic. No matter how much you insistently pressed the man for answers, he danced around your questions and was unmoved by the nervous waiver in your voice, saying that a surprise was waiting for you at the end of the carriage ride. He never spoke a sentence that gave you a clue as to where you were going.

You peeked out of the window after seeing the carriage pass through a large gate and were met with the impressive sight of Ragnvindr Manor. Kaeya, who had remained irritatingly calm for the entirety of the ride, languidly got up from his seat across from you and reached for the previously locked handle. You heard a click from the outside. He pushed down. With a sly smile, he turned to you and gestured to the now open door.

You couldn’t help the resentful glare that settled in your features at the borderline mocking gesture. After shooting him a dirty look, you hesitantly stepped out of the carriage. You jumped when you felt Kaeya’s hand settle on your lower back, who seemed amused by your startled reaction. He grinned down at you; that and his arm around your waist was anything but comforting, as the weight felt like it was trapping you, shackling you from running away.

You were ushered through the large, yawning doorway and led into the dim front hall. You stared in awe at the luxurious wood interior that was bathed in a warm glow from the candlelight reflecting, flickering off the high walls and shadowed ceiling. Your mind was momentarily distracted from the anxiety thrumming in your chest, with Kaeya’s hand still resting lightly on your back as he pushed you forward.

He led you through the initial archways and up the stairs, his pace annoyingly (and yet eerily) slow, which you were forced to match. He stopped in front of a door that blended in with the rest of the dark wood that was characteristic of the architecture. There was nothing special about it. It only made you more nervous.

“Well,” Kaeya finally spoke, voice smooth and suave as it always was. “This is it.”

As you processed that you had basically just let a stranger pull you into someone else’s house and isolate you from any form of safety, your frazzled feelings formed a heavy weight in your chest, a raging combination of panic and fear.

“What’s going on?” You asked. “Why am I here?”

His grip curved against the side of your waist and tightened, keen on not letting you bolt.

You were seconds away from running into the maze of hallways and hoping you could find your out when Kaeya gingerly knocked on the door. He shot you a glance, seemingly reading your thoughts as his other hand, the hand tensely holding your waist, idly played with the fabric underneath his fingers. His demeanor was infuriatingly casual as you stressed over every decision that could have possibly led you here. Despite his feckless expression, you felt that he understood the weight of what he was doing. He wasn’t oblivious to your fear or your anxiety, and there was a serious expression in his eyes that looked like determination. Whatever he brought you here for, he was planning to see it through, unmoving and stubborn.

You wondered what could make a man such as Kaeya, who had always seemed so removed from any conflict in society, so motivated. You wondered what role you had in him achieving his goal.

The door opened, revealing a very surprised Diluc, dressed down more than you had every seen him. His usual heavy outer coat had been removed, leaving him in a white undershirt and vest. Long crimson hair was thrown up in a high ponytail. The candlelight from inside the room reflected off of it, making a shining halo form around his head. From what you could tell, he was in the middle of getting ready for bed, with a few stray buttons undone at the top of his shirt. You felt your face heat up at the sight.

“Kaeya? What….”

His gaze first landed on his brother, sending him a confused look, before it landed on you and stayed, a wide eyed stare that told you he was not expecting your visit. You squirmed awkwardly under his stare, too bewildered by the situation to say a proper greeting. You pressed down the urge to cover your now burning face with a hand as you were pinned under both his and Kaeya’s full attention.

“Diluc,” Kaeya spoke, unbothered by the obvious tension in the air. He fully encircled his arm around your side, a happy smile forming on his face. He pulled you towards him. Stumbling gracelessly, you were pulled closer into Kaeya and the doorway where Diluc stood stiffly, still staring at you.

“An early birthday gift.”

….What? You felt a cold dread immediately begin to pool in your stomach, the words freezing and repeating in your head. You had been nervous before, but now your body was going into survival mode as fear took over. What the hell was he talking about?

Your mind ran at the implication. You were a person. Not an item to be passed around. Was this some kind of sick revenge for rejecting someone so much higher than you in status and power? Was your family in on it? Were you suppose to be some kind of offering for Diluc?

You nearly flinched when you heard Diluc make an affronted and angry noise in response, almost something like a growl, as he glared at his brother with burning red eyes.

After that, you found yourself sitting on a plush couch inside of what could only be Diluc’s chambers. Across the room, Diluc and Kaeya spoke in harsh whispers, sparing furtive glances towards you every few seconds. You pointedly tried not to look at the very large four post bed in the middle of the room, feeling much too awkward and uncomfortable in what was obviously the personal room of a man you were not married to. The taboos of society all began to rise to the forefront of your mind, and you realized how inappropriate this all was; if it got out, there would be a terrible scandal, and your family would drag you through the mud for dirtying the reputation of both theirs and the Ragnvindr names.

Your damp hands clamped down on the fabric of your clothes, clenching into tense fists as the only other people in the room left you to stew in your anxiety.

Suddenly, there was a shout.

You nearly jumped five feet into the air. You had to tense every muscle in your body to keep yourself from rising off the small couch, though you could not stop your head whipping around to the source of the noise. You heart rate, after finally calming down, sped up again as the dread in your stomach churned. You had a bad feeling that this odd situation was coming to its climax.

The sound had came from Diluc. In Kaeya’s hand was an outstretched piece of paper, too far away for you to make out whatever was written on it. Diluc swiftly took the sheet from Kaeya, scanning over it with wide eyes.

“We’re….?” Diluc breathed, suddenly looking at you with wide eyes and flushed cheeks, his lips parted in surprise.

“Officially.” Kaeya said, a laugh in his merry voice, clearly amused by Diluc’s reverent expression. The calvary captain titled his head towards you, his eyes barely glancing your way, signaling to Diluc to go over to you. Your chest tightened.

Diluc looked at Kaeya, then turned fully to face you, taking slow steps as if approaching a startled animal. He walked over to you, expression nervous, seeming almost shy as he came to stand in front of the couch you sat on. He looked down at you from above, not speaking. Opening his mouth, then closing it, he balled his fist onto his knees as lowered himself down to sit beside you.

He was close. Too close. To close to be normal, for two people who were in such an odd situation. You were paralyzed by dread and didn’t try to move away from the startling, sudden heat that came with Diluc sitting next to you.

He looked away from you, his head facing the ground in front of you, then turned his body to angle himself towards you. For a moment, he stared ahead, right past the edge of the sofa. He opened his mouth to speak and a breathy, light voice came out, so different from his usual deep timber.

“Your family….,” He started. Your heart stopped. “has agreed for us to be wed without a ceremony. My brother,” he shot Kaeya an accusing look, turning away for a second before returning his gaze to the ground at your feet, “has taken it upon himself to take care of the all the details and bring you here. I’m sure you weren’t aware of this, and this all must be very confusing, but we are now legally…..” He stopped on the last word, finally looking up into your eyes, his own burning with a passion so bright it scared you.

You could do nothing but stare in horror as he opened his mouth and tied you to him forever.

“Married.” Ah. There it was. His usual voice, deep and pleasant. He grabbed your clenched hand, gently but insistently pressing it open and laying his much larger palm flat atop your own before intertwining his fingers with yours. Your joined hands rested atop your knee, which is where Diluc’s gaze stayed, entranced by the point of contact between his skin and yours.

In any other situation, the action would’ve been incredibly romantic and sweet; a tender moment that would’ve set your weak heart aflame and stirred butterflies in your stomach. Your crush, holding your hand, looking at you with all the adoration in the world? It sounded like a dream. Yet, this was possibly the worst situation you had ever found yourself in; dragged to the house of someone you barely knew and finding them infatuated with you. Knowing that you’d been given to them like a wrapped gift.

He had confirmed all your fears. You knew that your family had gone behind your back and lied to you, betrayed you, despite how much you had insisted that you not be engaged to Diluc. It would be too painful when he eventually, inevitably broke it off to marry someone else. Your romantic feelings for him were only the beginnings of a fervent admiration. Still, you knew it would come to nothing, and that your feelings could not change the nature of the world. The two of you lived in different worlds, different circles, and he had better marriage prospects from people that could give him more than you ever could: power, wealth, and all the things that you would always have to look at but never be able to touch.

The emotions you were seeing in his eyes when he stared into yours could never be described as a shallow admiration. No, now you wish you had discouraged being engaged to him for a different reason; his feelings went far beyond the bounds of admiration. They burned in his eyes; they burned you with their intensity.

You had seen a side of Diluc today that scared you. You knew your simple crush couldn’t hold a candle to his raging inferno, something wild and uncontrollable. It would consume you. You now knew that he would consume you, if you allowed him to.

It must’ve shown on your face. The confusion, the bewilderment, one of the many emotions you were feeling must’ve seeped into your expression.

Diluc began to attempt to comfort you. His hand slipped onto your face, shocking you out of your raging thoughts and back to the present as his eyes scanned over you. He looked like he was savoring touching you, perhaps happy to finally have you in his arms, under his hands, after so much longing. (How much longing? How long did his feelings go unnoticed by you?)

“You need not worry, dearest. I’ll take care of you and treat you well. I’ll be a proper husband to you and more, I swear it. You have my word.” A man once nervous and flustered was now scarily serious as he spoke, maintaining eye contact as his binding words promised you a lifetime by his side.

Diluc leaned into you, his hand still pressed to your face as he glanced down at your lips, his own parting. You saw his tongue dart out to wet them, too distracted by the movement to see that his gaze now rested on only your lips.

“I will try each and every day to make you love me as much as I love you.” He spoke softly.

You gasped as Diluc pressed his lips against yours much more harshly than you were expecting him to, and he chased after you as you leaned back into the couch.

—————————

As shocking as it was to find out, you couldn’t do much to ignore Diluc’s now obvious feelings for you. With his words, he ruthlessly broke down every mental barrier you had put up to convince yourself this was all just a bad dream. He loved you, he told you. He was going to protect you, he vowed. He was going to give you everything your heart could ever desire.

The words were meant to bring you comfort, and you had never felt more terrified in your life.

You could feel his hands wandering over your body, curiously mapping out every dip and crevice like they had been waiting for the chance to touch you. Diluc curved his body over yours, hovering above you, not quite on top, not quite upright, just crowding into your space as if he could only breathe the air near you. You winced as you felt his teeth latch onto your lower lip and pull, a soft groan escaping from his chest as he took in the sight of you; you could only imagine what you looked like right now, and the thought that Diluc was looking at you, admiring you like this, made your face burn and your body tremble. Unwillingly, a fire lit in your stomach.

And then, a raspy and low laugh brought you out of your thoughts.

"Looks like their mind is wandering, 'Luc."

Your eyes immediately flew to the owner of the voice, who was standing against the doorway with his arms crossed, an amused smirk painted on his lips. He was watching Diluc fervently push his lips to your neck, face, lips, with the same affection and bemusement one would have after getting pushed into the snow by a sibling. His look of ease, and slight surprise, betrayed no discomfort toward the sight in front of him.

You distantly thought that these two brothers had a lot more love for each other than what they let on.

After all, Kaeya was the one who had paved the path to you being in Diluc’s ever tightening embrace. Kaeya was the one who brought you here and practically threw you into Diluc's arms. From what you could guess, and from what you knew about Kaeya, he had most likely learned of Diluc’s puppy love and had seen no problem with pulling a few strings to help his brother along with his “courting.”

Never mind the fact that you had already said no; you had rejected Diluc months before. The proposal had came as a big surprise, especially when Diluc requested a private audience and asked for your hand in person. And still, you rejected him. At the time, you thought that if he wasn’t already engaged to someone other than you, someone who met his status, he would be soon, and you weren’t going to risk being the fiancé of a man who belonged to someone else; you were protecting yourself from the inevitable heartbreak that would come with letting Diluc court you. And what were you meant to do when he was forced, or worse, willingly began to court someone else? Pine after him from the sidelines, hopelessly adoring and praying he’ll come back? The thought was comical. Laughable.

Kaeya, however, clearly didn’t seem to think so.

If you knew that Kaeya had been plotting to serve you to Diluc on a silver platter, he would’ve dragged you here kicking and screaming. And if you could get past what a conniving and manipulative bastard he was, you would think it was sweet and endearing that he would do so much for his estranged brother, if only to make him happy. Even if it was at your expense.

And to make matters worse, it had been incredibly easy for him to trap you under his palm; you had pieced together how he managed to pull it off fairly quickly.

When Kaeya had visited your family’s estate under the guise of delivering a marriage proposal on behalf of the Ragnvindr household, your family had signed you over without a second thought. Even if they had taken the time to think about the fact that Diluc and Kaeya were rumored to never talk or even exchange pleasantries with one another, that they constantly acted like they were strangers, that it was incredibly odd that Kaeya, of all the people Diluc could have asked, would be delivering the news, it was still too much to ask for them to bat an eye at the proposal.

You weren’t naive; your family wasn’t keen to hang on to you. The only reason you hadn’t been married off already was because of how strongly you had batted your eyes and schemed your way out of wedlock. But now? They wouldn’t dare reject Diluc’s proposal after they found out about it, even if they had noticed every glaring red flag that came along with it. Any suspicion they may have felt was swiftly overcome by Kaeya’s relentless charm and the naturally powerful influence of the Ragnvindr name.

You were doomed the moment Diluc proposed.

You were doomed the moment Kaeya found out you had rejected his brother.

You had practically been held captive inside the manor since you had arrived a few hours ago, and Diluc didn’t seem keen on letting you out of his sight.

Kaeya, who had walked close enough to relax against the post at the end of the bed, leaned towards you and smiled.

"Oh, don’t give me that look. I wasn’t originally planning on taking you here,” he smiled at you like he was sharing a joke, the corner of his eye crinkling with mirth. “I only found out just recently about Diluc’s little infatuation with you. And here I always thought my dear brother would end up with someone like Jean. You were quite the surprise, you know?”

You resisted the urge to throw the nearest object at his handsome face after that comment.

That was who Diluc was meant to be engaged to right now, if the rumors of their long awaited marriage finally being planned held any truth to them. It would be a good marriage; a classic case of childhood friends to lovers, and their personalities fit well together, their friendship naturally wholesome. And most importantly, Jean held one of the most influential positions anyone could have; she was above many and bowed to few. Her status matched Diluc’s; her mere existence made the chance of your betrothal to the young Ragnvindr heir practically nonexistent. It was a key contributing factor in you giving up on confessing your feelings for Diluc.

You had assumed that he had Jean and could never reciprocate what you felt for him. How wrong you were.

A hysterical laugh bubbled up into your throat, one that you pressed back into your chest before it could escape. Kaeya wasn't that far off the mark; Diluc was practically destined to be with Jean. If you were a little bit more romantic, you would even call them star-crossed lovers.

So why were you here now, helplessly holding on to the back of the man’s waist coat while he suckled and bruised your neck to no end?

You gasped as Diluc seemed to get a little bolder at the sound of his brother’s voice, feeling his teeth nip harshly against your skin as he finally pulled away. You could see that his lips were kiss-swollen from his efforts, full and pink, something that unfairly added to his already devastating good looks, which were only enhanced by the glow of the candlelight. He angled his face away from you to look at his brother, something akin to jealously swirling in his eyes.

“Kaeya,” he warned, a growl in his voice. Kaeya chuckled and shook his head before holding his hands up in surrender.

“Alright, alright. I’ll leave the two lovebirds alone.”

He shot you one last wink before he sauntered towards the door, opening it before pausing with his hand on the handle. You watched him lean back to make eye contact with the red haired man on top of you, a smirk spreading across his lips:

“Oh, and Diluc?” He cooed.

“Be gentle.”

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ciwzing · 9 months

Text

the first time you suggest kei to wear contact lenses instead of glasses was when a volleyball ball had accidentally landed on his face hard, leaving an indent of his glasses around his eyes and a cruel bruise on his left eye that made him sat on benched for a few match.

Though he refused with a furrowed brows, and a little shake of his head saying "I doubt an accident like that would happen again." and that's that.

the second time was when he whined and complained about the sunlight and why he can't wear sunglasses since he won't be able to see shit anyways, you had said first "why not just have those transition lenses" you heard him scoff and see him rolling his eyes by your words.

"it's impractical and cost more" he retorted back, you look at him dumbfounded, he say it's expensive but doesn't blink an eye to spend money if it's buying you things. "then wear contacts instead" you said to him, you could only hear grumbles under his breath and words of refusal.

you sighed and asked him why he was so disagreement of wearing contacts, he only stayed silent not answering your question, he didn't want to admit that the thought of something like contacts touching his eyes scares him, he cringes at the thought of putting contacts and touching his eyes to get it out. Besides that it takes a lot more effort to put on than glasses,

the third time was a finally the time you had successfully convinced him to put contacts, though you weren't the one who asked but him instead surprisingly.

he had watched you get ready in the morning sitting in front of your mirror, clipping your hair back to put on your contacts. he eyed you in amusement as you successfully put on your contacts on the first try, that's where he got up from your guys bed, still shirtless only wearing loose sweats that's hanging dangerously low on his hips, showing off the band of his boxers.

you watched him through you mirror as he approached you from behind, you greeted him good morning earning you a low hum from him and a raspy morning. bending down to your sitting position to give you a small kiss on your cheek, eyeing both of your reflection in the mirror.

"mind putting contacts on me" with his words, your mouth went agape, looking at him if he was sure and it wasn't his sleepiness just talking. seeing that he was dead serious, you smiled brightly before standing up from your seat and drag him to sit on it instead, opening a drawer to grab another set of contacts. sitting on lap to have a better view of his face.

he grumbled saying you hadn't need of sitting on his lap but his hands that's already resting on your thighs is enough for you to know he doesn't really mind.

"Don't look at me like that, I won't be able to focus and put this on you properly"

"What do you want me to do then? Close my eyes"

"You know what, shut up instead"

Kei concluded that if it means you can sit on his lap everyday to put those stupid contacts on him, he might just wear those instead of his glasses instead.

________________

Bonus!

"Fuck, I wouldn't ever trust you going near my eyes again, I feel like im gonna go blind any second"

"Don't be dramatic, you were moving you eyes so much thats why I had to put it so many times"

"I wanna go back to my glasses.."

#haikyuu fluff #haikyuu #haikyuu drabbles #tsukishima fluff #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei #haikyu x reader #tsukishima drabbles #not proofread we die like men!!#gn reader

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mrswint3rs · 3 months

Note

Can you do a Zeke one?

𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐲 ᯐ

pairings- Professor! Zeke x Fem! Reader

a/n- i love this man with all my heart // not proofreading bc if i do i’ll cringe and delete the whole thing

cw- Teacher x Student relations, fantasizing, some mentions of guilt, public masturbation, age gap (reader is early 20s / Zeke is mid 40s), unprotected sex, use of praise as always ❦

➽────── ──────

In all his years of teaching, he’d never had a student quite like you. Never had he even considered looking at one of his students as anything more. Then you came along. Or rather, he did.

It was good to start a clean slate every now and then, to get a chance at doing something new. So he decided to take a sabbatical leave, temporarily parting from his home country.

It wasn’t the first time he had traveled to the states, but teaching there was a different story.

Seemed phyc was a more common course to take for a GPA raise rather than it was important. Most students didn’t take his teachings all that seriously, handing in the most atrocious attempts at an essay.

No one engaged in his lectures, even when he made an effort to make them more interesting and interactive. They all just lifelessly sat through each day, like his words went in one ear and right out the other.

Only you seemed to be interested in actually learning, laughed at his dry humored jokes when none of your other peers did. It was his only motivation to get through each day. He considered going back to his roots. It all felt sort of pointless, like he wasn’t getting through to anyone.

Sure his lessons and theories were a little old fashioned and boring at times, but he didn’t think he was all that bad. It was what he worked so hard through his youth for. He was pretty confident in all his knowledge and wanted nothing more than to provide his insight which you finally gave him a chance at.

You never skipped class, always turned in assignments on time, and you actually participated. Every question you’d be the first to raise your hand, most times you’d be the only one to do so. You even went out of your way to speak with him after class ended, either questions about the lecture or just to talk to him in general.

He knew he shouldn’t favor his students, but really he couldn’t help it.

You put so much effort into studying, and it showed in all your test results. Exams were a breeze for you because you actually heard him when he spoke. Always front row.

He looked forward to seeing you there, probably more than he should. And he absolutely despised seeing you talking to your other teachers. He could only hope he was your favorite.

It was that jealous build up that made him realize just how much you started to cloud his thoughts.

He started to favor you so much he could hardly see your faults. Any mistakes on your papers, he’d ignore, just to see you beam at his approval when it was handed back. Not that he needed any excuse to praise you, you were without a doubt at the top of your class even without his foul play.

In no way did you try to provoke him. You were a humble girl, just trying to get your credits. Yet he couldn’t help but wish it was something more than that.

The way you looked at him, as if waiting for something. He couldn’t resist the feeling of wanting you. And that want was gradually shifting into a need. No woman in his age group ever got him that needy. Only you and your possibly yearning gaze.

He grips his cock, stroking to the thought of you like a mad man after class. Nobody came into his office after lunch hours anyway.

He cusps his freehand over his mouth to silence his pathetic groaning as he fucks into his other one, closing his eyes tight and imagining you at the front of his class. Just sitting and listening to him so intently. You were so innocently enticing.

Just the thought of you doing something so normal was enough to make him lose himself.

It was so morally wrong and he knew that deep down. It only made it feel more thrilling, making him shoot spurts all over the underside of his desk.

God, he was a sick man. Completely thinking with his dick as if he was a teenaged boy again. He felt like he needed to be baptized or something.

But even with the aftermath guilt, his need for you was unwavering. He just didn’t know how to get closer to you. You probably didn’t see him that way. He didn’t think he fit the role of the ‘sexy professor’ that all the girls fawned over. He was just a dorky middle aged man trying to be what his parents wanted him to be. It was more than likely that you only saw him for what he was.

It was normal to have at least one teachers pet. You just tried harder than most to be successful. If you want something, you have to earn it.

You knew that all too well. Which was the real reason behind your commitment to his class.

Sure, you needed those credits and a straight grade, but those weren’t your main concerns. The second you stepped foot in that room and laid eyes on him, he became the whole focus point. He was beautiful and not in a self absorbed way, which was so rare. It was like he didn’t even realize how appealing he was, and you wanted nothing more than to show him.

Anyone could take notice of how awkward his lectures were. When he tried to interact and joke around and they were all so blandly silent. You felt bad.

Soon, you started putting yourself in front of him as much as you possibly could, becoming one of the only ones to make an effort to engage with the poor man. It was clear he was trying his best.

And he was an excellent instructor. You weren’t all brains, and his lectures made more sense than any of the previous. To you, everything he taught just clicked. You were fascinated by his witt, even his profound opinions. It was the only class you didn’t feel obligated to attend.

At first he was just eye candy. But over time you grew to actually appreciate his unique personality as well. He wore his heart on his sleeve more than he probably realized. You could read him like an open book. And it was especially clear how he felt in the way he looked at you, and that lopsided greeting smile when you looked back.

He seemed so happy every time you’d approach him after class. It was clear he was lonely. No one appreciated him the way you did, and you couldn’t understand why. It was beyond pity. You just wanted to see those blue-grey eyes light up, and for his smile to actually reach them.

And him in general.

You could hardly sit still at the sound of his voice going on about the ‘hierarchy of needs’. Well he was leaving out a major one.

You clench your thighs together tighly, shifting like you’re uncomfortable just for the friction from the seem in the crotch of your jeans, gnawing on your inner cheek like a dog with a bone. The last thing you wanted was to let a moan slip in front of everyone. Even you realize how desperate you were behaving. The man was just talking for fucks sake.

It was always so easy for you to take it in before, but now you’re not following what he’s teaching at all, only focusing on the rasp undertone of his voice. Imagining how it’d sound if he was buried deep inside you.

You orgasm so easily, making a mess inside your pants. You just hoped no one took notice of your writhing, and that he wasn’t looking at the way your eyes rolled back as you came so hard to the thought of him. Though a part of you wanted him to catch on.

Eventually your lack of ability to pay attention caught up to you. Your grades started to slip, which shocked him since you were doing so well before. He couldn’t help but feel concerned and he wanted to know the cause of the change. Which led you to being called into his office, with the door and blinds shut for privacy.

Where you always deep down aspired to be. Just preferably not for this reason. You never wanted to disappoint him.

“Have a seat wherever you’re comfortable,” he says, pulling up one of your recent works.

You pull out the chair in front of his desk, plopping down and looking everywhere but at him. Blatantly obvious you’re aware of the reason you were summoned.

“Forgive me for being vague in my email… I just wanted to check on you.” he says. “Lately you’ve been…sort of out of it. I just want to be sure you’re taking care of yourself.”

“No need to be concerned about me, Professor Yeager.” you immediately chime in. “I’ll pick up the slack.”

“I’m not as much worried about your grades as I am about you. You’re a very talented girl. I’d hate to see you struggle, especially on my account.”

“It’s not your fault,” yes it is. “You’re one of the greatest teachers i’ve ever had.”

And that’s one of the sweetest things he’s ever heard. He struggles to keep up his professional facade as those words come out of your mouth. Something he had wanted to receive throughout his whole career.

“Is that so?” he presses on. “Why is that? I fear i’m nothing short of the average.”

You breathe out, almost frustrated by his self undermining. “You’re anything but average, professor. In all aspects.”

You couldn’t be more obvious. The only way you were getting anywhere with him was by being flat out bold. Even if he turned you down, you couldn’t miss out on the chance to reveal yourself. It was nearing the end of his sabbatical leave. You knew he would only be there for one semester.

“In…all aspects?”

You wanted to curl up and die. You knew he was a bit of a loser, but thought surely he could take a hint. He had to have had a woman in his life at some point.

Instead of further delving into the details of feelings, you shoot your shot, leaning in to take his lips. No way to misinterpret that.

It finally clicks with him then. You wanted him all the same, came straight to him.

Next thing you know, you’re flat on your stomach, face smooshed against the smooth wood of his desk with his cock jabbing in and out of your drenched cunt. He didn’t have to restrain himself any longer, finally you were right where he wanted you to be. All those days of pumping into his hand were nothing compared to actually having you. Just as tight and eager as he imagined. He knew you were innocent on the outside, but nobody is ever fully innocent on the inside.

“Such a pretty girl,” he moans. “I’ve waited so long to have you like this.”

He hits that spot repeatedly, making you gasp for breaths. “s’ too good…” you mewl, your pussy practically swallowing him up whole.

“Thank you for being such a wonderful student,” he groans, hips stuttering as he feels you tighten around his length. “Taking me so damn good…”

“I’m so proud of you for how far you’ve come.” he adds, and you turn into a puddle. “All for me,”

He continues to rut into you, neither of you caring about the consequences. Your moans are so angelic to him. He wishes he could watch your face, look into your eyes while he fucks you. He just wants you to need him.

“Gonna cum, Professor!” you warn with a whine, only urging him to pick up the pace. He hooks his arm underneath you, rapidly rubbing your puffy clit to break you further.

“That’s it…” he pants. “Cum with me. All over my cock.”

“ Give it to me, please.”

You clamp down as you finally burst. The feeling takes you whole. Your mouth opens but no sound comes out. You feel your body tingling from head to toe as he fucks you through it, chasing his own release.

You’re put down to a breathless, whiny mess, unable to even see straight or think about anything but your teacher’s cock, stuffing you oh so full of his cum with no regard.

He keeps going until it’s overstimulating him. He didn’t want to part from you. Ever. But as it got to be too much, he forces himself to pull out, releasing a pitiful whimper at the separation.

But you looked so beautiful, sprawled out and twitching on his desk. He couldn’t control the hardening of his cock again. He needed a break, though he didn’t know how long he could last without your warmth again. He needed to have all of you for himself. He’d never be satisfied otherwise.

“Can you take me again?” he asks, not wanting to tire you out entirely. You still had class after this.

You babble out repetitive pleads for more in response and he has to grip his length to calm the throbbing. He couldn’t wait, even for five minutes. You had him completely addicted at the first taste.

“That’s my girl.”

mlist

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ahgasegotarmy116 · 2 months

Text

The Art of Etiquette Part 7 | Jeon Jungkook

Summary: Going gown shopping is proving to be a bit more difficult than you had expected and Jungkook doesn't make it any easier Pairing: f!reader x Etiquette instructor Jungkook Word Count: 4.7k~ Warnings: I don't think there's any need for warnings but so much teasinggg a/n: Sorry this too so long to get out 😭 I've lost motivation to write these days so it's been taking a bit longer for me to get chapters out but I hope you guys like it! p.s. kinda sorta edited lol I just wanted to get it out already Start from the beginning

After talking to Jesse last night about everything that happened between Jungkook and I, I've been even more confused than I was to begin with.

"HE KISSED YOU?!?!" Jesse yells into the phone making me cringe as I pull it away to save my hearing but ultimately fail.

"I don't know, kind of but not really. He leaned in and kissed my cheek but his lips did brush up against the side of my mouth so I don't know. I'm just so confused because at the start I thought he hated me. He was rude and demanding and always tried to intimidate me. I will admit that it worked sometimes but I just never know what he actually wants from me" I complain while switching to my airpods so I can walk around my room and talk to him while looking for an outfit.

"I think you're over thinking things. I think it all comes down to the fact that he found you challenging at first so that might've been why you thought that he hated you" he explains.

"Challenging? What's that supposed to mean?" I question, flipping through the clothes in my closet, struggling to find something that's comfortable but not too casual, easy to take off so it makes trying on dresses a bit easier but doesn't make me look like I didn't put in any effort. You would think I was getting dressed for a first date or something based off the existential crisis I seem to be having.

"He probably thought you were some bratty rich kid that needed a real push to break out of that mold. I bet he's had to deal with a lot of divas in his time. Don't take it personally though, I'm sure that he just goes into those first few lessons with that mindset and then loosens up a bit as you go along. Or at least that's what I would think based off of what you've told me" he explains.

"You're probably right" I agree while trying to choose between two colors of what sweater to wear. "Pink or Blue?" I question and without hesitation he chooses pink. "What did you end up putting together?" he asks, eager to know what I've settled on.

"Pink sweater, white skirt with nude colored leggings and some white boots. Oh and I'm pairing it with the white pea coat James got for me last Christmas" I relay, going through the outfit in my head, leaving everything on their hangers so I won't have to worry about too many wrinkles tomorrow.

"Why are you dressing so...girly? I mean you're a girl obviously but I figured you would go with something a little more...black" he chuckles, thinking about my usual choice in attire.

"Jungkook would send me back upstairs to change before he would take me somewhere dressed in all black clothing. He wants me to remember to dress like a lady so I might as well go into it right off the bat so I can avoid another scolding. Plus I figured a skirt would be a lot easier to take off and put back on again since I'll be trying on a few dresses" I say while finally getting myself ready for bed.

"Fair enough. If I were you though I would tell him that the only way I'm taking these clothes off is if you take them off of me if he had a problem with your outfit" he teases, making me roll my eyes at him, amused but embarrassed by his nonsense. "Jesse he's my teacher" I point out for the millionth time, hoping to get him to back off but I know it's pointless.

"As much as you would like me to jump his bones I need to remember the purpose of our relationship. I don't want to cause James any trouble with messing around with him. I could just see the headlines, 'CEO's step daughter sleeps with her etiquette teacher', I do not want to have to deal with the backlash from my mother either. If something were to happen between us it could ruin his reputation, making people think that he sleeps with all of his students. Plus who knows, he could've slept with his past students based off of how forward he has been with me" I say while throwing myself onto my bed and staring up at the ceiling.

"He may be an adonis but I don't think he's the type of guy that would do that. Like he's an etiquette teacher girl, if he was to have had a scandal with a student in the past I'm sure it would've come out by now" he reasons with me and I hum in acknowledgement.

"I guess you're right" I mumble and soon wrap up our call so I can get some 'Proper beauty sleep' according to Jesse but for the life of me I can't sleep a wink. With all of these questions spinning round and round in my head I just can't seem to ease my mind until I'm jolted awake by my alarm.

'I guess I was able to sleep a bit' I think to myself before jumping into the shower and rushing to get ready. This'll be the first time Jungkook has seen me bright and early in the morning and not run down after a long day at school so I guess it's best if I make a good impression.

After putting on my lip gloss to complete the look I'm met with my mother barging into my room. "You do know that Mr. Jeon is going to be here soon and oh-!" she nags quickly spewing out her speech before finally taking a look at me.

"Look at you! I guess you really are my daughter!" she says while walking over to my mirror to stand behind me. "What's that supposed to mean?" I say crossing my arms and giving her an unamused look through the reflection.

"It means that you look very beautiful and you're showing off your femininity and assets very well" she says referring to the shorter skirt that she hasn't ever seen me wear before. "Very funny mom now can you please leave so I can finish getting ready?" I ask, shooing her away so I can get her out of my hair, literally since she had started running her fingers through it from the back.

"Okay okay I'm going. Would you like me to let you know when he's pulling up outside?" she asks and I nod my head and at that she's off to no doubt stand and wait for the first glimpse of him by the door. 'She's more obsessed with that man than Jesse is' I mumble to myself and quickly slip on my boots and take another look at myself before I hear my mother yelling for me to come downstairs.

I open my bedroom door and hear that Jungkook is already somehow inside the house and speaking to my mother when I had anticipated for him to just wait for me by his car. "Oh good you're here! Hurry along I heard you have a very long day ahead of you so behave yourself and do exactly as he says" she lists off and I don't bother giving her an answer.

"Don't worry Mrs. Hart, I know she's a good girl" Jungkook shamelessly responds for me. My eyes bug out and I watch the amused look spread across his face but it's gone in a flash when my mother turns her attention back to him. "Shouldn't we get going? I know how much you hate being late and I'm sure she's waiting for us already" I say in regards to the modiste that we have an appointment with.

"Oh yes, I'm sorry I'm holding you up. Have a good day both of you and I'll see you later tonight" she says with a smile while opening the door for us. "Oh I don't think it'll take that lo-" "I won't keep her out too late" Jungkook jumps in and I shut my mouth at his response, knowing I really have no say in the matter but also losing my wording when he places his hand on my waist to guide me over to the car.

Walking over towards it I realize that he's switched from a four seater car to a two seater and I can't help but wonder if his motives were to not give me any other choice but to sit next to him. "I didn't realize you had another car" I say while he opens the door for me and I sit down and almost squeak at the feeling of the seats sinking down a lot lower than expected and he smirks at my reaction.

"I have a few but I tend to take this one out every once in a while since it does best on longer trips" he informs before shutting the door for me. I nod my head while he walks around the car and gets in a lot more gracefully than I had which makes me roll my eyes and turn my face away from him.

"Here" he says handing me an iced coffee "Oh thank you but I don't drink coffee, it makes me anxious" I say politely rejecting. "I know, Matthew told me so I got you a chai latte since to his knowledge, tends to be your favorite" he says. I thank him and receive it with both hands, my cheeks showing a dusting of pink at the thought that again he bothered to make sure he got me something that I would like. He even got me an iced one since I like those better even when it's cold outside.

I take a couple of sips as he pulls out of the driveway and onto the street before taking notice that I had forgotten something. "Mr. Jeon I'm sorry but do you think we could turn back around? I forgot to grab my coat" I admit, cringing at the thought of inconveniencing him and messing up the schedule for today.

"It's alright, you can just borrow mine" he says with a slight smile, no hint of irritation or condescension. "But I don't want you to be cold I-" "Y/n it's fine, I don't mind. If anything we can get you another coat once we go looking for the shoes to match your dress" he says and relaxes into his seat.

His left hand on the wheel with his right placed on his lap where I notice that he's spreading his legs a bit further than I've seen him do before, making me gulp at the sight and turn my face away from him.

"Is that alright with you?" he questions, making me look back over at him. "What?" I ask, not sure if I had lost track of the conversation or not. "Do you feel comfortable borrowing my jacket or should we turn back around?" he questions glancing over at me.

"Only if you're sure" I say, wanting to give him the option to change his mind. "If I wasn't sure I wouldn't have offered. I'm asking if you're alright with it" he says and I reply simply saying yes but that's not good enough for him.

"Yes what y/n? I thought we had agreed upon using our words" he taunts and my breath hitches at the fist sign of his flirtatious attitude for the day. "Yes Mr. Jeon, I would feel comfortable borrowing your jacket" I say but he presses further. "I thought we had agreed on being more informal with each other as well" he teases and I look over at him with a confused face as to why it would make a difference for him.

"Say my name" he says darkly causing a fluttering sensation to bloom in my stomach. "I-, what?" I stutter, not expecting this sort of behavior from him this early in the morning.

"Say. My. Name. Or would you rather us go back to addressing each other formally?" he questions while he stops at a red light and cocks his brow at me. "Yes Jungkook, thank you for letting me borrow your jacket" I say quietly after a pause, my brain not being awake enough to come up with any smart remarks.

He smiles at that and focuses back on the road and offers me the aux to play some music since the drive is so far. "Try not to fall asleep on me again like last time. Wouldn't want to have to clean the drool off your face again" he teases while holding the chord up for me and making our hands touch since he doesn't seem to want to let go right away.

I bring my hand down to plug my phone in and he lets his follow mine, keeping them connected for a second, letting his warm hand rest on my thigh before bringing it back towards himself and placing it back on his lap. I clear my throat to get my bearings again and quickly plug it in and play some low fi music which gets him to glance over at me again.

"What? You don't like it?" I question feeling insecure about my choice since I don't really know what his taste in music is. Unless it's just the ballroom music that we've been dancing to for weeks now but I highly doubt that.

"No, I do. I'm just sure that a playlist like this one would be the exact thing that would put you to sleep" he says with a crooked smile. "Well I just wasn't sure what you would like and so I figured low fi would be a safe choice" I explain and see that he's still smiling.

"What?" I question and he glances over at me, making me suspicious of him and all of his reactions. "It's just cute that you put thought into choosing something that you thought I might like as well" he says with a lilt in his voice.

"I just wanted both of us to enjoy the music that's all" I say, crossing my arms over my chest as a defense mechanism to hide the fact that he's made my heart rate pick up with his simple words. "And that's what I found cute about it" he says, rubbing it in since he can clearly see that it's making me shy.

"You know, you can be quite irritating sometimes right?" I say as a way to defend myself and make him stop teasing me. "Who me? Am I not allowed to compliment a pretty girl for acting cute?" he plays coy and before I'm able to respond he corrects himself. "Excuse me, a beautiful woman from acting kindly towards me" he finishes and I can't seem to come up with any response to it so instead I choose to angle my body away from him and look out the window.

"You can put on something you like instead. I tend to enjoy all genres of music" he says, reeling in the teasing and giving me a break thankfully. I in spite, choose to go with one of my angsty playlists full of artists like Simple Plan, Blink 182 and Linkin Park, thinking that it would be something he wouldn't enjoy but to my surprise I catch him drumming his thumbs on the steering wheel to the beat.

As the playlist shuffles through the songs I catch him singing along to the opening of Bring Me to Life by Evanescence and it's then when I turn my body to face him again. "You know this song?" I question, my eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "You didn't think that you were the only one who had their emo phase did you?" he laughs and again I'm given another reason to see him in another light.

As the song progresses we end up doing the call and response of it, with him settling on the guy's part and myself on the girl's and somehow it all just clicks. It's as if we were just two friends on a roadtrip together and it feels, nice? Right? I don't know but it's as if we'd known each other for our whole lives.

There's a comfortable silence once the song comes to a close and we both glance at each other a few moments later and laugh it off. "You weren't kidding when you said you had an emo phase" I tease and he laughs in response.

"We promised to be honest with each other have we not?" he chuckles after calming down a bit with me, wiping away the few tears that had fallen in the midst of my laughter. "You're right, we have" I respond and again we settle into a comfortable silence before he asks me a question to keep me talking.

"Penny for your thoughts?" he questions, glancing over at me before turning his attention back towards the road. "I mean there's not much to tell" I say, not having anything in particular stick out to me but he unsurprisingly presses nonetheless.

"There must be something going on in that pretty little head of yours" he teases I take in a sharp breath, his compliments always catching me off guard. "Why do you always compliment me and tease me like that?" I say quickly without giving my brain a second to stop me. "Tease you like what?" he asks with a huge smile, not expecting me to just come out and say it.

"Why do you do that Jungkook?" I ask, using his first name to show him I'm serious about this question. "Do you not like it when I compliment you?" he deflects. "Answer the question Jungkook" I reiterate since he doesn't have a care in the world at this point.

"Because you're beautiful" he admits as if it would have no effect on me. "I-" "What? You expect me to spend this much time with you and not come to notice how beautiful you are?" he asks, looking over at me as we reach a stop light. I sit there without an answer, not knowing whether I should acknowledge his words or just brush them off.

We had agreed to be less formal with each other but did he think that was a green light to trying to pursue me? I've gotta talk to Jesse about this.

"Looks like we made it just in time" he states a few minutes later as we pull up to the modiste, seeing that the kind woman that had helped us out before waving at us through the window.

"You ready?" he asks, scaring me at the sudden concern in his voice. "You're scaring me" I laugh off and watch as he gets out of the car and comes around to open my door for me.

"Let's just say it's going to be a long day" he explains, holding his hand out for me to take and I graciously do. Seeing how low these seats sink down I would probably make a fool out of myself if I were to try and get out on my own.

Once I stand up I stumble a bit and lose my footing leaving me bracing myself on his chest, my hands pressed firmly against his pectorals but I push off of them once I feel them flex under his incredibly tailored dress shirt and again lose my balance but he pulls me in close by the waist before I can manage to tumble back down into the car.

"You alright?" he smirks with his hand still firmly against my waist and his hand pressed against the car behind me, placing us in a similar position we had been in just last night. "I'm fine" I say after clearing my throat and placing my hand on top of the one he has on my waist as a way to request for him to let me go.

"Hey, are we okay?" He asks, tilting his head to meet my downward turned gaze. "Why wouldn't we be?" I question, felling on fire being this close to him. "I just hope I haven't made you feel uncomfortable. I really do think you're beautiful" he says, placing a hand on my cheek and bringing my chin up to face him.

"Can we talk about this later? She's watching" I ask, nodding toward the dressmaker inside who is clearly enjoying the show. "I don't mind, I just want to make sure that we're okay" he says, deepening his gaze if even possible and I just nod and utter a quick yes before slipping out of his grasp and speed walking to the door.

He braces both of his hands on the roof on the car I had just been leaning against and lets out a dry chuckle before pushing off and closing the door, catching the last glimpse of me scurrying into the shop. 'Cute' is the only word that comes to mind for him at our whole exchange and my reactions to it all and it would continue to be his reaction throughout the whole day as he watches me try to find the perfect dress.

~~~~

"Welcome back dearie" she greets me with a knowing smile, not even bothering to pretend she hadn't seen everything that transpired between Jungkook and I. "Good to see you again" I say, meeting her with a shy smile, hoping she won't address the topic, or at least with Jungkook right on my heels.

"I'm sorry ma'am in all of the excitement from the first time I had been here I never managed to catch your name" I say, scolding myself for forgetting to even ask. "You can call me Genevieve dear. And remember, I said you could lose the formality with me, especially since I would love to have some girl talk with you about Mr. Jeon" she teases with a wink and before I'm able to protest she's already greeting Jungkook right behind me.

"Mr. Jeon how lovely to see you again. I see you've both become better acquainted with each other since the last time you were here" she says, stopping Jungkook in his tracks and leaving me clearing my throat and awkwardly requesting that we get started.

I glance back at Jungkook and see how the tips of his ears have turned red, not having expected her to come right out with it but it makes me smile nonetheless, seeing once again that I'm not the only one that gets shy in this dynamic we have going.

~~~~

After trying on dress after dress after dress we can't seem to find the right one. "What about the dress you picked out when we first came here? That one won't work for this event?" I yell to Jungkook from behind the curtain as Genevieve helps me out of what feels like the hundredth dress.

"It doesn't fit the season nor the occasion. Just try on a few more and if we can't find one we can look through the catalogue and order one and come back for a fitting later on this week" he responds without a care.

"It'll be a bit of a tight squeeze in terms of time if we were to do it that way though" she warns me as she zips up the next dress and before I can even take ten steps out of the dressing room Jungkook has already disapproved of it.

"You don't like this one?" I question looking down at it, but then after having seen it in a different lighting realize that I hate it too. "You really want to ask me that question again?" he cocks a brow at me. I let out a sigh and my whole demeanor droops as I walk back into the dressing room.

"Hey" Jungkook says, walking up on me before I'm even able to close the curtain. "Don't scare me like that" I say, placing a hand over my chest as an automatic response. "Why don't we take a break? There's an Indian restaurant down the street from here so we can have lunch and then come back. That sound alright to you?" he asks and chuckles at seeing my face light up at the idea.

"I'll take that as a yes" he says with a smug smile. "Can you help me get out of this? Genevieve had a hard time with the zipper so I think her hands might be getting a little tired of doing this" I ask, turning my back to him and giving a perfectly innocent excuse as to why I'm seeking his help but I can see his amused smile in the small mirror that he doesn't seem to notice that's placed right in front of me.

"Of course Pretty" he smiles and he takes his time dragging the zipper down and his brows shoot up at the realization that I'm not wearing a bra with this dress and once he's finished he runs his finger along my spine, seeing a slight red mark from the constant rub of the zippers of multiple dresses and I see his brows draw together at the realization.

"Let's get you out of here. We can come back another day to continue but I think you've had enough" he says running his finger along the line once more, causing a shiver that I had been trying to hold back to run up my spine but at his concern for the slight marks the dresses had left on my skin he decides to ignore it.

"It's okay, let's go eat and once we're done I'll try on a few more. I feel like the both of us will be able to think a bit straighter on a full stomach. Don't you think?" I ask, turning around to face him with one arm placed over my chest to hold up the dress being the only space between him and my bare skin.

"If that's what you want" he says, his eyes tracing the slight bit of bare skin he's able to see on my chest and up to my eyes. "I'll just ask her to get a few more dresses ready for us while we're gone" he says and tells me through the curtain minutes later that he'll meet me outside.

"You're a sly one love" Genevieve says as I come out of the dressing room fully clothed. "What makes you say that?" I question, tilting my head in confusion. "You knew I was coming back in a few seconds but asked him to unzip the dress for you anyway" she says and I widen my eyes, surprised that she has seen that exchange. "Nothing goes on in this shop without me knowing love" she chuckles at my reaction and gives me a little jar of salve.

"What's this?" I question curiously, turning the jar over in my hands. "Mr. Jeon noticed the red marks the dresses left on your back and got worried so he asked me if I had anything that might with that" she says giving me a quick wink. "Now hurry along love and I'll see you soon" she says ushering me out and watching as I walk up to Jungkook leaning against my side of the car and looking up when he hears me coming.

"You sure you want to come back today? I can ask her to schedule another day for us to come back" he says, still leaning against the car with his arms now crossed over his chest and observing my form to see any signs of discomfort but the only thing that has me nervous are his wandering eyes.

"I'm fine Jungkook I promise" I say while looking down and pulling on the sleeve on my sweater in an effort to warm up my hands a bit and shield them from the cold. He hooks his finger under my chin and brings my eyes up to him and studies my features before making the decision that I'm still up for the task.

"Okay" he agrees, caressing my face for a second before using that same hand and places it on my waist and turns to open the car door and helps me in again. He places his coat over my lap, noticing that I'm shivering. I murmur a quick thank you before he closes the door, going around the car to get to the driver's side, waving at Genevieve before getting in the car as well.

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emmyrosee · 1 year

Note

there's something about atsumu being all pouty and sulky that makes him more adorable. (please i love him so much) i just watched a TikTok video of a married couple and this ask is based on this. so what if after an argument, you being atsumu's wife doesn't cook enough food for three (three bcs u have a daughter who has her uncle samu's appetite. and yes, bcs im a sucker for dad atsumu au) and just told him to cook for himself or order takeout or something bcs u didn't think that he'll eat at home. please 🥺 i just wanna see his reaction 👀

*the argument is about him not wanting to go home (poor boy says he needs to practice more) after you text and call him a hundred times bcs it's past practice time. so the next evening, you didn't cook food that'll be enough for the three of you.

NO WAIT PAUSE IM OBSESSED WITH THIS-

also im so glad you’re a sucker for the dad/uncle au bc same HA-

I know damn well in that pretty head of Atsumu’s that he does, try his hardest to be home for dinner. Always one to be accounted for, always there beside you, mowing down on the food you’d either spent the entire day cooking, or grabbing after your errands.

But for the past few nights, he just. Hasn’t.

He’s been with the boys, or staying overtime at practice, or hanging out with Osamu because he could always use a set of hands, and for some reason, rather than just telling you this, he doesn’t. He leaves you to figure it out for yourself.

It leads to a pretty nasty spat, thankfully one Hisako was asleep for, about you just wanting a text so you know that you don’t have to look forward to enjoying dinner with him (okay. A little cruel, but he had it coming!) or setting an extra plate. It made him snarl out how ‘he’s a grown man’ and ‘he can make his own dinner plans’ and ‘take care of his damn self without you,’ and you felt your heart sink to the base of your chest.

He sighs softly, “I didn’t mean that-“

“Then take care of yourself,” you snap, turning on your heel to get ready for bed. Even though there’s some half choked apologies that fall from both of your lips, you make the conscious decision to stop trying so hard.

If he wasn’t going to appreciate the work you go out of your way to do for him to enjoy a hot meal, then why put it forward? No need to shell out the extra effort when he’s not going to do his own part.

Especially tonight, as your table sets and vegetables stop cooking, your damn husband still isn’t home.

Whatever. Asshole.

Surely, it’s fine. It seems fine. Hisako inhales the food with extreme excitement, you pick at your own while she recounts the events of her day. Gotta hand it to her, she’s a damn entertaining kid, able to distracted you from the hurt of Atsumu potentially taking your words to heart and indeed, taking care of himself.

She prompts the end of her dinner with an enthusiastic kiss to your cheek- a trait she learned from her father- before toddling into the living room to play with her toys. You smile softly at the sight, bittersweet as you move to start the dishes, trying to get through them as a quick as possible before Atsumu comes home and sees the dinner not made for him.

This is another instance, however, that you’re having the piss taken out of you, and Atsumu comes home in the middle of your chores. You cringe softly as the front door opens, he sighs dramatically, and you head the happiness in his voice when he chirps a quick “where’re my girls!”

You whimper in the back of your throat and plaster a smile, still trying to hide the hurt in your features.

“Hey my love,” Atsumu says, voice strained from sighing happily, before laxing out to kiss you. “Where’s the boss of us?”

You smile and pucker your lips for a brief, almost uninterested kiss, and you watch as his body language tenses. “She’s in the living room playing with her toys. I was going to give her a bath once I finished the dishes.”

“I can do that, dollface,” he chuckles. “If you want to relax, or get started on her bath you can.” He happily hooks his head over your shoulder and nuzzles into you softly. “I gotta eat first anyways, so I can take care of the dishes.”

You tense up as he lifts his head with a happy inhale, “smells great in here. What did you make?”

In confusion, you give him a look over your shoulder. “I… made curry in the pressure cooker, and some rice and fried some eggs for us.” He groans happily and quickly dashes to the fridge to open and search for the extras, only for his face to fall once he turns up empty handed.

“Did… you both polish it off?”

“I only made enough for two, and with your daughter having an appetite like her uncle I almost didn’t have enough-“

“But…”

“What?”

“You… you didn’t cook enough for me?”

You scoff and continue to scrub the plates, “since you clearly had no intentions of updating me on what you’d be doing tonight, I figured I had no use in cooking more than Hisako and I could eat. Leftovers go to waste in this house anyways.”

He pauses, and you hear his socked feet padding around the tiled floors, trying to piece together his thoughts and approach this. You continue to wash the dishes, but the signals in your brain cross as two long arms wrap around your waist, a head burrowing into the curve of your neck.

“‘Tsumu-“

“I meant to text you,” he murmurs, curling up as close to you as he can. “I swear. Tonight, I wanted to come home and eat dinner with you, and watch a movie with ‘Sako, but I guess I just forgot to when Bokuto wanted to practice a little bit more…” one of the arms wrapped around your waist moves up to gently cup your jawline, angling your head to look at the golden eyes curved in distress. “But as soon as I realized I came right home, I didn’t even think of it. Please, don’t be mad at me… it was an accident this time, I swear.”

You sigh and lean over to nudge your nose with his, “I’m not mad at you, baby. You just… you hurt my feelings last night; you can’t tell me you don’t appreciate the work I do, then come home and pout about the work I didn’t do. That’s rude, it’s shitty of you.”

“I know,” he says softly, lowering his eyes. In thought for a moment, he then rises his gaze back up to you with a hopeful smile, “can I have a kiss at least?”

You snicker and roll your eyes, “you may have one kiss, and if you play your cards right, I’ll doctor up some instant noodles for you.”

He beams happily up at you and leans up to steal a kiss, the hand on your cheek stroking the warm skin lovingly, “I like the sound of that.”

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eddiemunsonbignaturals · 7 months

Text

just a pinch

summer ends way too fast; you and Eddie surprise each other.

includes smut, as in 18+ 6k words somehow lmao? most of it fluff best friends to lovers, and it gets a little gross in an arguably unsexy but very intimate way. you're not supposed to put anyone's mouth on your new piercing until at least two weeks out don't be dumb listen to your piercer

content: boob fondling, dry humping, jean nutting, some mild threats of violence, mentions of piercings but not piercing play to my understanding

reader is described as fat, dark skinned, and referred to gender neutrally, mostly (tough guy, man, angel, sweetheart).

comments (yes, even short ones,) reblogs all v much appreciated, take care :*

So, the heatwave had been a fake-out.

You had both expected more swim-days. Just a few more sweaty, sticky nights— sat too close and tangled together sharing a bowl of Moose Tracks by moonlight, in as little fabric as you could manage and with as much ice as one freezer bucket could hold.

But alas, the fall sneaks in one cloudy morning and makes you regret ever even thinking the word “winter.”

You’re shivering as you shock awake and roll clumsily to the nightstand. Reaching blind for the blaring landline, your hand cringes away from too-cold plastic, and you groan long and low in mourning— it's definitely over. While you were asleep, Summer had packed up her bag and ducked off in the dark before you could send her off properly. Goodbye, dog days.

Hello, caller. You know it’s Eddie before you pick up; he knows it's you before you speak.

“Can you believe this? Shit fuckin’ sucks,” he croaks, right off the bat and into the receiver.

“And blows—“ you sigh back, punching one satin-covered pillow and your headscarf off the bed. “We couldn’t even get, a like, temperate couple of days? It had to go straight to freeze-my-dick-off immediately?”

“ha! Please. The end is nigh, sweetheart. You know it better than I,” he almost sings. His sleepy lilt catches on the pet name, and that gravelly morning timbre gees up your morning wood like nothing else can. You kiss your teeth, honestly annoyed at how he affects you this early, and when Ed’s answering chuckle rumbles through your ears and down your jaw, it's like you can feel his breath through the phone.

God, he sounds good. You hum into a long sigh as he talks. It warms you, everywhere, hearing his voice first thing, and if your non-phone hand drags down your chest and reaches lower to rearrange the pillow between your legs, he doesn’t need to know.

You hear Eddie fidget, as he does, and he switches the phone to his other ear. Then, there’s the rattle of the earrings against plastic– a few chunky hoops he got at your suggestion, and one with your first initial that he definitely plucked off of your desk, though he had lazily denied it. You feel a smile fight its way to your face, suddenly giddy about him, about his call.

A snapshot of him talking himself awake is as clear in your head as the grey in the sky: a grumpy Munson, emerging from the mess of gifted homemade blankets and ancient, flat pillows. Just a pair of doe eyes, framed by a cluster of chocolate curls and a scowl. Picture-perfect.

You’ve been nursing this damn crush forever, and with the effort of punching it off the bed and out of sight with that headscarf, you’re long past exhaustion. But, in the safety of your chilly room, and with the comfort of his voice in your ear, maybe you’ve enough strength for now to entertain a butterfly, or ten.

You had worn his ring to bed— a little bat hugging your ring finger the way it had been hugging his before you’d snatched it off as payment for a dare gone unfulfilled–and you’re twirling it now, like some lovesick sap. You’re written all over each other, and you’ve been itching to do something about it. But, that’s not the issue right now.

Right now,

“I know, life is over, the globe is warming, there are only a few summers left, et cetera. We’ll still have fun.”

(the dare? you had challenged him to snatch some Hawkins PD pig or another’s goofy little ranger hat as he had passed the two of you on the street. Eddie had suggested maybe he couldn’t float past an arrest on boyish charm this deep into his twenties, and acquiesced without a word when you had held out your hand for his own.

You’d pretended not to notice the blush creeping up his neck; he had let you hold his hand a bit longer than necessary. It had been an even trade, as always.)

Across the line, Eddie’s still snickering at you, voice fathoms deep– all crackly– when he speaks again.

“Hold on to your dick, angel, I'm pretty sure there’s options. Like, uh, maybe clothes? Clothes usually work for me.”

“Don’t get cute! I'm fat, you clown, I sweat-- I don’t need clothes. And, I belong in the water, Munson. Its beyond fun, its—“

He cuts you off completely, ignores your scoff, and finishes for you.

“—fulfilling, healing, its what and where you were in every past life, the brain sludge is already building back up as we speak, and ‘I’ll die, I'll just about fuckin’ die, Munson,’ once it drops below 40, I know, stop bitching,” he laughs. His tone? Pure fond; your stomach somersaults.

You hear the smile widen when he goes on to remind you, “but I guess it's fall now. IE, your favourite.”

“Say ‘bitch’ to me again, I’ll shave your peanut head.”

He takes it back, giggling something about his favourite tough guy, but you know he’s got you there. You definitely are bitching, and—

Halloween month, cider season, big soft sweater weather, rain? It is the best, but it's never too early to argue.

“You’ll love it, angel.”

You give up, melting again at his affection verbalized. You’re humming assent as he keeps the ball rolling, asking what you’d like to do today instead of going for a swim. Come over and take turns reading the new discount novel he found? Start that mead recipe you made last year? Drive over to Stobin’s—see who can sneak in and scare the shit out of them first?

All great ideas, you assure him, but you decided long ago that the End of Swim also marked the beginning of piercing season. Your safety moratorium on body mods of all kinds has been lifted, now that you can’t dip your fresh wounds into scummy lake water.

You've been planning a particular pair for some time. You also decided that it would be a surprise. Your Eddie is observant, dialed in, and sure, maybe you like to play the odd game here and there. He notices you, and you notice right back. How long, do you think, will it take for him to note a new set of nipple piercings if you don’t warn him first? You figure it’s time to test it.

So, you break his heart a little, and decline to hang out today after all. You’ll see him on your next day off, you promise, and make plans for “four days hence, Munson, quit bitching. I just remembered something else I need to do,” before hanging up on his protests and pulling on your first pair of sweats in 4 months.

ID, water bottle, and a sweet breakfast in tow, you head for the best (note: only) tat shop you know, braced and ready for a world of pain, going boldly into the cold.

—---------

And there had been almost no pain, at first. You had yelped girlishly before the first needle went in, then felt embarrassed about how easy and quick it had been. Before you had even realized, it was over, and you grinned big at the unique beads framing each pert, dark nipple. You loved them. You loved the piercings, and more than ever, loved your tits. Couldn’t wait to go home and check them out from every angle, actually.

Then, a malicious towel snag, a careless door-jamb bump, and a hateful sweater-thread later, you were fearing for your life. Over the last few days, you had taken to crouching around them a bit, arms wrapped loose around your stomach as a reminder and for protection. Your nipples were insanely sensitive, now more than ever, and you had never understood ‘til now how often you simply walked through and into things instead of just around.

But, they were calming down, and with each prescribed saltwater soak you breathed a sigh of relief at the lack of visible irritation. The standard piercing boogers notwithstanding, they looked hot, you felt hot, but found yourself nervous for the big reveal. You thought you would hide them well, your mission made easier by the cool weather and baggier shirts it allowed.

You’re in his room now. Eddie’s ideas had been good, but you had both decided on the usual– you, rocking up to his trailer and spending the day with him throwing food and trading theories, hours whiled away in artistic pursuits and cat-naps, never too far from one another. It’s been a good day– you’re doing such a good job with the piercings, you forget to hide how entranced you are by Eddie's hands.

“Aren’t you hot?”

You count the veins and tendons as they flip pencils and drum against whatever surface they encounter, try to guess how long he can go before he bites that right pinky nail too short again, wonder if he’s running hot today. He’s tactile, your Eddie, but you’re sitting on the floor, legs sprawled, and yeah, a little too warm in the hoodie you came in as he lounges on the bed– too far for his idle touches to distract you into admitting anything.

You love those hands. You want to taste them one day. He’s looking at you.

Fuck, wait, he’s looking, and you haven’t answered him. You cut your eyes away, to the floor, to your nails, like an idiot. That wasn’t at all suspicious, sure. You’re reasonably sure Eddie hadn’t noticed the piercings themselves yet until, as you snack and he chats again about his sketch, he suddenly drops the pink eraser you’ve been watching his square fingers systematically tear apart.

“N...Noooooo.” He takes in your belated answer and eyes you for a second, then starts talking again. You tug your hands gingerly into the hoodie you’re in and slide the thing over your unwrapped cloud of hair without snagging anything, then toss it away, wiping the light sheen of sweat you realize is cooling on your nose.

Fuck, here we go. You hadn’t considered you’d have to hide in conversation, just that you had to keep him from seeing. You try to keep your cool, but answer too quickly. This wouldn’t last long.

“Have you been eating weird shit again?” Eddie asks, cutting himself off from explaining the lore of his latest campaign villain. He’s sitting up more since you last looked at him– leaning back on one elbow as the other arm drapes comfy across his belly– and watching you fidget in that weird posture you’ve adopted since the piercings.

“Eat– We–, me? Weird? What’s– What?” Nailed it. Smooth, like butter. Too player. You thank God or Dolly or whoever’s watching that your blush isn’t visible, because you can already feel your face heating up.

He stares, eyes squinted. You watch your plate, then look back at his lovely hands, fingers pale and impatient, thr-r-r-rumming in sequence against his now-closed notebook.

“What’s with the air-head act? And why are you clutching your tummy and moving like you fell down the stairs?” Okay, that one’s easy.

“Cramps.” Your reply is stiff, but reflexive. The pink in his fingertips as he drums is entrancing. Maybe you’ve saved it– you think you sound sure. He’s silent for beat, and you pick up a cracker and look out the window. Maybe you’re a genius. The fuck’s he gonna do? Argue?

“Hm. Bullshit?” You look up to challenge that, and catch him peering behind you to the stuffed possum you had gifted him when his favourite, real, live, wild possum friend stopped her brief shuffle through the fire pit behind his trailer one drizzly day.

(Eddie had called it the best week of his life, then declared that he’d never love again.)

After another beat, as if the scruffy thing has read the room and confirmed its answer, Eddie nods once, curls bouncing, then swings his neck dramatically back to you to assert, “bullshit.”

It's panic creeping up your throat now, because he’s going to see you, see them, this isn’t– well– it is– but you didn’t think it through, and you aren’t a good enough liar to dodge the impending question. You hem for another moment, hands hovering over your torso, and he looks between them and your face before snapping his bulk upright so fast that the bits of pink littering his lap and thin muscle shirt fly up in the flurry.

“What’re you hiding?”

A frown tugs your lips down before you can stop it. You watch Eddie toss the notebook and, with a loud thump, collapse off the bed boneless into your nest of blankets and towards you like a mad slinky before you can finish saying, “nothing! I’m not– hiding–, wait a second!”

In that second, Eddie has slithered the 4 feet between him and you, kind of flinging himself on top, landing more gently than you expected in a straddle and pinning your now-closed thighs under his seat before you can wiggle back and away in time.

“Did you get a tattoo without me? You fucking did, didn’t you?” He might be verging on genuinely hurt, by the sound of it. You’d promised after he’d started his stick-n-poke journey that he’d be your first, (tattooer, that is), once he got some training together. Had swore to him–

“Le’me see– what, is it that shitty? Who the hell did you go to? You can’t be–”

“Ow, Eddie, stop!” Your screeching protest belies real pain this time, curling in on yourself and to the side as much as possible. He bumped a piercing in the shuffle, the pain expected but still shocking, and he backs off a bit and coos in sympathy, all his next words coming out in a frantic rush.

“Fuck, oh no, I’m sorry. I’msosorry, Sweetheart? Are you okay?”

You’ve crossed your arms in front of you, breathing deep through the stinging. As it subsides, he ducks his head to meet your eyeline, his paint-stained palms up, promising no contact. He’s still straddling you, most of his weight on his heels. Still locking you under him, where its very warm.

If you looked down and saw your heart itself beating its way out of your chest, you wouldn’t be shocked. You’re almost choking on it, and plotting how to get him off you without knocking the new piercings again. Its enough to spin your head, to think you’ve been found out this soon, that the bravado in your spirit has fled so quickly at the reality, not just the idea, the real life prospect of showing Munson your tits.

But it's thrilling, him on top of you. It's always thrilling, a dream fulfilling itself, isn't it? Even if the context is off. This isn't the first time a bout of “weird” from one of you or the other has ended up in a fact-finding mission– sometimes wrestling match, or pillow fight, or wild, short chase through the woods.

But every time he gets this close, it's like the path between your head brain to the other brain is cleared– heat is flooding the thin cotton that separates you from his well-worn denim faster than ever. He has to get up, right now. You have to keep him there forever.

You relax as the sting subsides, uncurling and groaning a bit as those strong, clever hands fall to bracket your head on either side. Eddie leans down, sounding the creak of floor beneath you, and scowls, bathing you in his radiating heat. Studying you, taking in your full lips pressed into a thin, nervous line, your brows turned up where they’d meet, betraying distress.

“What is going on in there, man?" He's really worried now. When did you start keeping secrets?

“It’s…not a tattoo?” You purse your lips and scrunch your nose, and the sweet smile that flows like syrup across his face seems involuntary.

“Then what else– huh?” Eddie is trying to keep eye contact, but the wheels are turning, and his lovely smile drops. He glances at your arms crossed over your chest, and his jaw falls open, eyes narrowed in disbelief.

“Not a tattoo. Not ‘a’ anything, actually. Two things.”

“No, you didn’t. No way, not a chance.” Eddie seizes your wrists and ignores your protests, pinning each arm by your ears where his once were, and tries to x-ray inspect you through your shirt. It's dark, but not thick enough to weather this kind of scrutiny. Those telltale bumps are right there in front of him, the middle of each trio hardening as he inspects. So, you give up trying to argue, and shrug, suppressing a smile.

“With— wha?” Eddie’s looney-tunes double-take makes you hoot a laugh as he swings his head and bouncy curls up and down, looking at you, glancing back at your chest, and up again as he processes what he’s hearing. What the fuck is he hearing?

Your eyes stay low but your brows arch together as you scoff at him, dork. “You’re really telling me you hadn’t seen them?”

“I’ve– not–wha– I’m sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean–”

But, you had been talking shit. He couldn’t have seen anything in the dark shirt you had been wearing all day unless he’d been staring when you weren’t looking– had he been staring at your tits anyway?

Did he do that often? Your jaw doesn’t drop so much as glide mischievously open. Surprise dawns and Eddie realizes he has, in fact, given himself away too quickly. Coolest dudes in Hawkins, you two.

He changes tack, slapping the floor by your head, still a little shocked.

“You got your nipples pierced? I don’t believe that. I don’t believe you! You’re full of shit.” His voice is almost petulant in its disbelief, high and tinny.

Your eyeroll is audible, “I mean. I can prove it, Munson.”

“When?” He gasps, indignant, and slaps the floor with the other hand.

“You barely have your ears pierced-“ he exaggerates. “Who the hell did ‘em? Was it a guy? You let some guy–”

“Please, some professional? Can you be serious?”

“You can’t take the pain, angel, not without my moral support, there’s no way. You’d have been whining about them being sore all fuckin’ week if you’d gotten your—“

He looks at your tits again, jaw slack, but in his shifting sends them undulating with the movement. His whole body goes still, except to inhale very slowly.

You’ve maybe never been this self conscious in your life, but his distraction emboldens you.

“The idea was ‘surprise’, not ‘ambush’. But,” you drawl, smirking as you twist a wrist easily out of his now slack grip and push yourself up onto your elbows.

“Do you—well.” Your eyes falter when your voice does. You want to offer proof. You’re not that bold yet, but you’re working up to it.

He gives you room to sit up completely, hovering over your calves, back almost on his haunches. His heat leeches into your legs, swells in your chest and behind your eyes.

You want to touch him, like you always do. Eddie's deep brown eyes are wider, his mouth slack. His breathing is a little harder too, and you wonder for a second— do you want to un-ring this bell while there’s time?

“No,” he answers. “I mean, yeah, I—“ He rolls his plush lips into his mouth and then parts them, trying to work out how to ask. It’s not a dare anymore, and you feel a shyness completely unfamiliar, laid out in front of your best friend in the world.

You wilt a little; Eddie finds his courage.

He swallows, and you watch his throat work while he figures out what to say, maybe as nervous as you are.

“Can I see?” He sounds hopeful, gentle, but to soothe you or himself, you can’t tell.

You dont quite answer with, “I’ll have you know, they didn’t hurt. At all, actually. It was...cold. Uncomfy, totally, but not painful— just a bit of a pinch? The last week has been worse than the actual needles were.”

Eddie seems to realize he’s really staring, and cuts his eyes to the left, almost shy, and he seems to wipe sweat from his palms down the length of his strong thighs.

Your own hands pick at the hem of your shirt, and his gaze is split between your mouth and chest. Then, he shifts his weight, leans back like he’s about to give you space, when you reach for his warm, toned tricep, his skin shifting over muscle as he fidgets, and you’re ready to tell him the rest of the story. You can’t bear to miss his warmth on top of you, you realize. Now or never, you think.

“I…” you croak, “I thought of you.”

You hear him choke, like actually choke on his spit, then watch him shake his head like he’s rattling himself out of a haze. Eddie’s locked in on your eyes, searching for even the hint of a joke as you lift the shirt up just your stomach, exposing all the graceful cresting hills of your soft middle to his hungry gaze.

“When I picked them out, I mean.”

“Youf, you– fuc– You did this for me?” He sounds so absolutely incredulous, and breathless, all bravado bled out, or rushing to his reddening cheeks. It's like Eddie opened the next Discworld and found a dedication in his name, like the heavens have opened above him. For him? For him?

“Not for you, you clown, of course not. But like, maybe I wondered which ones you’d say I should get. And maybe... I thought you’d appreciate my pick.” Your crooked smile feels small, and you feel like offering something more substantial.

So, you do.

“Appreciate..? I. Oh, god, Jesus, I.” You had been lifting your shirt so casually as you spoke, palms sliding up across your skin and dragging cotton with them, a caress so careless it seemed incidental. But you avoid hitting the new bars through each hardening nip, chills putting a mild tremble in your hands that he first catches, and is then distracted from. You watch Eddie’s short-circuit for a bit, feel his thighs tense around yours. You decide then that boldness is the only path forward.

At the last rounding, you let them hem of the shirt catch on the underside of your bust, and just before its dangerous, lift them up by the hem and then drop them a bit, so they bounce for him, putting on a little show, posture straighter than before in presentation.

You’ve killed him. His plush lips try and fail to form a word, any word, as he lets out another shakey breath and leans back in to you by centimeters.

“Eddie?” you prompt at his silence, voice quieter now. He’s still a little wide-eyed when he gasps out,

“What. Appreciate? Fuck, you’re beautiful. So, so beautiful. Jesus Christ, I never thought— Are those bats?” He’s moon-eyed and gaping like a dry fish, and you’re too keyed up to even tease him about it. You didn't just think of him, you conspired to match with him, to carry a little bit of him with you.

You know he wants to see you, more than just the piercings, and that teasing smirk is a distant memory, much like your patience.

“So you hate them, huh?” He’s shocked into laughing before you can finish the question, restoring the quiet to something like normal as he raises his ringed hands to frame the low curve of your breasts. But he takes them in only with his eyes, flitting back and forth between them.

“They look, so so good, so good, god. The color you picked, even,” a warm gold that picks up the warmth in the soft creamy brown of your skin, “it glows, like, perfect. Gold’s your color, Sweetheart. It's all your color.”

Bravado is fickle. You order him through barely parted lips, like you didn’t mean to say it out loud, then almost slur the hasty backtrack, “touch them. If-you-want, I-mean, if-you—.”

In Eddie’s mind’s eye, gold falls from the sky; from his mouth tumbles a bewildered, “'If i want?' Are you insane?”

As he reaches, you nod and sit up a bit straighter, feel heat rise in your cheeks, and take his confession with a crooked smile.

“I dreamt this.”

Here’s you, insufferably coy through a giggle: “Yeah? How’d it go?”

His own knowing smirk is back, and you shiver, wanting fathoms deep as Eddie's hot hands envelope the heavy mounds of your breasts from below, cupped in the way he had threatened before you granted permission. Eddie seems to weigh them as he holds you, committing to memory how the plush fat of them sits in his palms, how they pebble across with gooseflesh at his very gentle fondling.

You’re so soft, and warm, and he’s touching you; his mind splits in two. Some of him prays to any god for escalation, the rest could die happy right here.

On contact, you sigh together. Heavy, whispering things— you were both holding your breath— and inhale together, too. Your eyes flutter closed at the the drag of each body-warm ring as they poke into you. His calluses are almost sharp against you where they glide, some of the time ghosting over your skin, but mostly kneading you warmer.

It's your soft little hum of pleasure, how you arch, helpless, into his touch— the indiscreet rub of your knees together, and your thighs into his seat, the way you fight the smile back— these bring him back to himself, and he checks your face again, watching the small smile grow as your eyes flick up to his.

“Different,” Eddie intones, low and slow. “We’re out of order.”

You’re watching his pretty mouth again while he feigns serious, but as he moves just one hand to the floor behind you and leans in close, warm Cheez-It-breath tickling your face, setting alight every nerve that wasn’t already screaming for deeper contact. You meet his penetrating gaze and gasp at the pleasure-pain of that ringed thumb finally, finally, swiping up along one pert nipple.

It's a shocked moan, not a gasp, that opens your mouth as he collides with it, timed perfectly with the upward jolt of your hips into his hardening cock. It's Eddie’s turn to gasp— his rushes out hot and quick, as if from a gut-punch.

He's fighting for his life trying to steady his voice, act casual. “Usually, I get my mouth on your first.”

With that, he closes the gap again, but this time pulls away with a wet smack, a kiss so brief you’re compelled to chase him and get your licks in.

“Then, my hands,” he says, as he closes his fingers around as much of you as he can grasp with each hand to squeeze. Its at once electrifying and comforting, leaning into him and running from the cold. You want him pressed against you completely, but he's focused on the pillows of supple skin and heat in his hands.

“Promise,” he chokes, “ahhh, promise to tell me if it hurts, angel?”

“Eddie, touch me— I promise— touch me,” you positively beg, and your Eddie, egged on by your fingers now pulling deliciously at the hair on his sensitive nape, recovers fast. He’s on you before he can take his next breath in, and bites down around your bottom lip, pushing you with him gently as he leans forward, mashing your noses together.

And you kiss Eddie back, hard, sucking his trembling lip between yours and earning yourself a groan that sends a lovely buzz through your jaw where you meet. That fucking noise, and his hand still on you, now not as gentle, sending little shocks of pleasure as he swipes gently along the outer dark ring crowning your nipple. The skin there is tightening, growing impossibly sensitive, and each brush and nudge shocks you between your clamped thighs, makes your body rock a little, sending kinetic energy across you that has him enthralled. So much evidence of his effect on you, the movement anchors him to reality.

"Good?"

"Really good, Eddie, yeah." You squirm under him as he massages one side, then both, then rests his forehead against yours to gaze down, intent on his project.

“You feel good too, angel,” Eddie groans again, enjoying himself in earnest, crowding you gently together, then letting each breast roll in his hands, rough digits brushing in tandem against beads so taut it almost hurts, so intense its almost too much, but you need more.

“You know what’ll feel even better?” You ask him in a pant, breathless and focused– you need him between your legs too, and desperately, so you nudge one of his, asking to widen so you can rearrange. Eddie obliges, planting one solid knee right against your aching core and letting you fall back, propped up on both elbows.

Neither of you wastes a second. This kiss is a hot, wet collision of sighs and spit, grinding sloppily into each other through just too many layers of sweet, stiff friction, whining into each other’s open mouths.

While you nearly lift your hips off the floor, chasing the worn denim between your legs, tension in your lower gut building faster than it ever has alone, Eddie rides your linen-covered thigh just above your bent knee, murmuring between love-bites to your chin, the chubby apple of your grinning cheek, then the crook of your neck, where he finds and then latches onto a spot that makes you seize under his weight, clamping your thighs around the one at the very center of your focus.

You clasp a hand at the back of his head again, scratching a bit at his neck and forcing a long shaky sigh out of his mouth as the rhythm of his swirling hips grows rough, devolves into a stuttering staccatto race to the finish, and he’s talking himself through it into your shoulder as you barrel him down.

Ed's heaving whines are gorgeous, ragged, as he sighs into your neck about how good you feel under him. He can’t finish a sentence as he groans into your shoulder, all about how good you smell, how he can’t believe you did this for him, how badly he wants to taste them.

“Taste? I,” you cut yourself off with a near-panicked whine when his leg slinks heavily down, the relief of his wet but still straining crotch-tent another brief sliding kiss against your now soaking cunt, and you resist seizing him by the scalp, to keep him up with you, but only just. You’re both so close; he’s stalling?

No, tasting.

Through your horny fog, your mind starts to process his goal. Eddie works his body down yours urgently, never really breaking contact, and as he slips away all you can do is watch him watch you.

In a thrall, as he draws a scalding trail of open-mouth kisses down the heaving swell of your exposed breasts. The wet kisses cool fast in the chilly air of his room, and it feels so good you don’t care how needy your sighs sound, how obscene and high your breaths echo in your own ears. Then he pauses in his descent to admire you again, breaking eye contact for a few awe-struck moments, dropping a chaste peck just left of the left nip, then resting his forehead on your sternum. When he fully squishes your tits into his cheeks it makes you laugh out loud, and you feel his smile and then chuckle against your stomach.

He seems to paise there for a few moments, content to nuzzle, and your high whine-sigh takes even you off guard. Eddie looks up at the sound but stops himself saying whatevers on his mind. Instead, he double-takes between your mouth and chest once, and again, then and finally asks, “sweetheart?”

He’s got that look like he’s up to something, and you can’t say you mind it.

Eddie drags his lovely nose across the wide valley between your bust, your shoulders cave a bit with the shiver, and he continues, “can I?”

Taste. Yes, “please, Eddie, yeah,” and he closes his hot mouth over one hard bead, swirling that devilish tongue around and over, knocking it roughly enough to pull a harsh hiss from between your clamped teeth. Your hands are both in his hair again, and in a little pain you pull at his sensitive scalp and feel the buzz of his moaning around you, closing the little pleasure circuit between you.

You feel every wet swipe of tongue like a brand, on your sensitive chest and melting, shocks of heat driving down in your sex, chasing the pressure and pushing your body into his chest where he lays against you.

One of his hot hands mimics his mouth’s rhythm on the other tit, and the lewd sounds of his deep moans around you are only matched by the obscene slick of his hand finding the soaked core of you under his torso, his fingers tingling over the used cotton.

You nod assent before he can even ask, catching his eyes as he pulls away from your chest to check on you. He finds your open pant, you low lidded attention on only him, and smiles. Then, he grinds his own hips into your leg where he straddles it, lower than before, moaning again around your mound and sucking this time, a new kind of pressure that pulls the neediest cries from you yet. His fingers finally breach your underwear from the side, and the calloused contact jolts you to the precipice, climax just within reach now that your clit has direct, emphatic attention.

His tongue swirls faster, and Eddie matches that pace with his slick fingers between your cunt lips, circling the trigger and nudging just the top of your gasping hole, pace quickening, just what you're begging him for. Your free leg hitches around his back and pulls him into you, then you clamp up and pull hard at the hair in your grasp, gasping his name over and over as you come shaking, curling around his head, pussy drooling on his rings and wrist, hips frantic in their desperate chase for friction.

Eddie’s not far behind, rhythm incomprehensible as he’s distracted by his own big finish. He bites down almost too hard around your breast and fucks down onto your trapped leg, groans buzzing through you as he drools and sputters and comes a warm wet mess into the washed-out black.

The grey light is blinding, you can’t open your eyes at first. But you start to collect yourself when you feel him pull off, sliding his hand slowly out of your panties. You open your eyes to him watching you again, eyes half closed, to him catching his breath, and with no regard for the mess on his hand he gathers your collar in his fist and hauls you forward for another kiss, other hand tucked in the soft folds of your waist, grasping, clutching, pulling you in.

“Ouch.” You say, with no heat at all.

As he scoffs, Eddie slinks back down again to kiss it better, another gentle peck just to the side of the most sensitive bud of your breast where he sucked and nibbled hard enough to bruise. Just a pinch, indeed.

“Aw, I’m sorry, angel,” he promises, only a little sarcastic, and finally rounds his mouth around your right nipple, which he had neglected until now.

Then, you hear the slightest crunch. Like crumbs rubbing together.

Eddie smacks his lips a couple times, tasting, considering.

"Salty," he says. No way.

Oh, god, no. No fucking way. He still licking you clean but you freeze, then he does, but Eddie, knowing exactly what he just set you up for, loses it. He buries the cackle in your tummy as it dawns on you, and you do some quick math– you last showered this morning, which means you last soaked your piercing this morning, maybe 10 hours ago.

Eddie crawls back up your body as you wail, “ohhh, my God, Munson, why would you—? I cannot–” and lands eye-level, with you spent and boneless on your back, him in a table-top pose, arms propped by your shoulders.

He hadn't been neglecting your other side, he had been saving it.

10 hours. More than enough time for new “crusties” to form, so more than enough time to build your own nightmare from natural scratch. And he didn’t hesitate, or mention it at all, that your piercings were clearly crusted over as part of the usual healing process, he just sucked them off anyway like they were in the way.

“You– absolute– freak! Eddie what the fuck! Did you fucking eat it? Are you insane?”

“What? I helped! And it’s probably, like, I don’t know, nutritious somehow. Protein?” He shrugs, smirking in the face of your horror, your embarrassment. You hadn’t thought to look at your own tits when the idea of his eyes on you had been more than enough to deal with.

You punctuate every few words with sharp shoves, which barely register as nudges to him from your angle, still under him, fighting his weight and gravity itself. Little by little, he sinks against them, and you tire yourself out before his chest traps your arms between the two of you.

“You– sicko, I didn’t– give you permission– to snack on me.”

“You even said ‘please,’ sweet heart, no take backs. I believe they’re my boogers now.” His smile is just content now, mischief subsumed by all the love in his eyes. You were in his mouth; now you’re on your way through his system. He thinks its romantic.

He ate it. Like a weird pet left unattended too long, he saw something new and simply put his mouth on it. Your-- friend? hardly, you think-- Eddie Munson just ate the new piercing boogers off you, straight from the source as he came in his jeans. You don’t even know what to do, so bewildered you shove his shoulders and chest as rough as he’ll allow before he seizes your wrists and pins you again, only this time, your tits are still out.

“Without full knowledge, that’s twisted– you’re sick.” Your smile betrays you. What a weirdo, sure, but who else would full-send like that? You can’t think of anyone you’ve dated– anyone you’ve let touch you– that has ever been so close, and you haven’t even seen his cock yet.

God, what a freak– your freak, you think with a thrill.

“Yeah yeah, heard it before."

Its quiet for a bit as you stare at each other, smiles crooked and soft.

"Well. Cat’s out of the bag?”

“Seems that way.” So, there's your "what are we" convo' all sorted.

“Good. So you know— " Eddie ducks his head to tap his nose against yours, then pulls back again to hover a little closer than before, "clothes are no longer an option.”

“What. The hell are you saying.”

“I'm saying,” he whispers, suddenly against your ear, dragging out each syllable, and slides his thumb and it's cool bat ring now poking out of a soft fist across your collarbone and up your shoulder, just to see you shiver again, just to watch you shake.

“hu-.. what, Munson, spit it out!” Now, you grab him by both wrists, and the quick movement brings his eyes to your tits again, gold titanium winking in the gray light. The soft wave of your body warms his core. He's half-hard already just watching you move.

“Too late, ha.” You groan, still grossed out, and anticipating this, he groans with you, mocking. You feel it through your own chest, feel it down your pinned leg.

Then, Eddie’s voice is soft too, at once dreamy and deadly serious, when he says, “You,” drops a kiss on one shoulder, “were so, so right,” and another on the other, “you won't need clothes ever again.”

—--------------—

Its only days later, your next day off, when your favorite metalhead greets you at your front door. You don’t even have time to say hello before he’s flashing you; Eddie yanks his shirt up, fast as he can, to show off two glinting barbells, twin gold angel wings framing each nipple, still red and a little swollen from the piercing.

He beams at you, proud of the shock written all over your face, and before you can recover, cradles your face with one ringed hand and swoops in to plant one on your open mouth, grinning all the while.

#eddie munson x black reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #mine #every thirsty nasty stupid tag ive ever posted or texted my friends that got me kicked from the GC will become a fic one day cos like what #is the point of this otherwise #this has been edited a little cos the second i post i reread it again and find bits i meant ti switch around #eddie munson x plus size reader

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jae-bummer · 1 year

Text

Romantic Walks on the Beach

Request: Hey, I'm Shy to ask this💀🫠, but could you write a story about y/n and Chan going to the beach late in the middle of the night And please make it cute and funny🌚

Pairing: Stray Kids Chan x Reader

Genre: Fluff

*Tap*

*Taptap*

Slowly opening your eyes, you hazily blinked up at the ceiling. You furrowed your brow, focusing on where the noise that had woken you up was coming from.

*Tap*

Narrowing your eyes in the direction of the window, you tried to remember if there was a tree in the backyard of this vacation home or not. Maybe it was windy, and the branches were just hitting against the window.

*Taptap*

You groaned and finally rolled over. Gingerly touching your phone, you read the numbers displayed on the too bright screen. 12:37 AM.

"I'm going to cut the branch down," you hissed to yourself. "And then I'm going to make the tree watch as I start a bonfire with it."

Dragging yourself to the window, you ripped back the curtains, ready to verbally assault shrubbery. Instead of the spindly, old tree you had assumed was harassing you, you found a mid-sized human instead.

"Chris?" you muttered, squinting to see him better.

Sure enough, there was a Bang Chan standing in the back yard, a handful of what appeared to be pebbles in his palm.

You immediately felt the irritation melt from your body as you stared at him. Unlocking the window, you started to slide it up, just as he began to rear his shoulder back. Before he recognized you in the window, he let the rock fly. Slumping to the floor, you squeaked in surprise as the pebble flew through the window and bounced off of the nightstand. Popping back up again, you looked at Chan with a gaping mouth.

"Sorry!" he whisper-yelled. His shoulders drew up to his ears in embarrassment as he cringed.

You waved him off before calling back. "Chris, what are you doing?"

"I couldn't sleep!"

You lifted your brows, waiting for him to continue.

"I thought maybe you'd go on a walk with me?"

You heaved a sigh before nodding quickly and shutting the window. You could likely get a better explanation if you just met him outside.

Looking around the unfamiliar room, you tried to remember where you had put your hoodie. Somehow you had managed to snag the top-most room of the rental (all by yourself) when playing a game of rock, paper, scissors with the rest of the kids. When you had agreed to this weekend vacation, you assumed you'd be bunking with one of the boys, so it was a pleasant surprise.

Finally finding what you were looking for, you hustled as quietly as you could down the stairs. Your efforts were likely fruitless though, with the amount of sleep these guys needed, there was little chance of waking them up.

Pulling on your sneakers, you eased out of the back door and onto the patio. Chan gave you a small, awkward wave from where he was still standing under your window. You approached him, and crossed your arms, waiting.

"Uh...hi," he grinned.

"Let me in on a secret, Chris," you said. "Why were you throwing rocks at my window? When we're staying at the same place?"

Chan chuckled. Shaking his head, he pressed his palms to his eyes. "Call it sleep deprivation?"

"I would at least like to hear the logic behind it," you smiled. You loved it when Chan was flustered. You loved it even more when you were the reason for it.

"I couldn't sleep," he sighed, dropping his hands.

"As mentioned."

His nostrils flared as he shot you a momentarily glare. "I thought, wouldn't it be nice to look at the stars, so I came down here. Then I heard the waves crashing on the beach and my feet started to pull me that way, but I didn't want to go by myself."

"And the first person you thought to coerce for a long, romantic walk on the beach...?"

"Definitely wasn't Han," Chan smirked. "I didn't want to be a creep and let myself into your room while you were sleeping. And my motivation may or may not have been influenced by the number of stairs to get there."

You rolled your eyes before finally nodding. "Fiiiine Christopher Bang. Romance me!"

Chan broke into a full smile before flexing his hand in a "gimme" motion. You slid your fingers between his and immediately felt a wash of goosebumps cascade over your skin. The two of you had grown really close over your short time of knowing each other. You were stuck in the in between place of friends and dating, but you were both okay with that for now. Not everything had to be defined. You were still so new and enjoying the moments of learning each other."

Tugging you along, Chan glanced over his shoulder at the house growing smaller in the distance. "You think they'll be okay unsupervised?"

"What's the worst that could happen?" you huffed. "They're all asleep."

"Y/N," Chan laughed, shaking his head. "I don't think you understand the innate ability my members have to be casually destructive, no matter their state of consciousness."

"Hey, this whole adventure was your idea," you hummed, swinging your interlaced hands between you. "I've been awoken. There's no backing out now."

"Wouldn't dream of it," he said, lifting up your hand to place a soft kiss to your knuckles.

Walking in companionable silence, it wasn't long before your feet hit sand. You took a deep breath in and sighed happily.

"Now look at that," Chan smiled. "Not even grumpy about being woken up anymore, are you?"

"I wouldn't go that far," you muttered, popping your shoes and socks off. Setting your feet in the sand caused you to shiver, the night much cooler than you had anticipated.

Watching you, Chan immediately noticed your sudden chill. Sidling up behind you, he wrapped his arms tightly around your waist before beginning to waddle you forward.

"Chan!" you gasped before dissolving into laughter. "What are you doing?"

"Walking toward the water," he said simply, his breath hot on your neck.

"No, I mean-"

"And also keeping you warm," he chirped. "Unlike some people we know, I am capable of multitasking."

Gripping tightly to his forearms as you continued walking, you couldn't help but giggle at the sight of the two of you. You stumbled forward, getting closer to the water as Chan's strides were wide, careful not to disrupt yours.

Only a few yards away from the incoming tide, he finally tugged you to a stop and set his chin on your shoulder. Letting out his own contented sigh, you could feel him tilt his head to look at the sky.

"Hey, Y/N," he whispered.

"Hm?"

"Have you ever thought about how small we are?"

"...I'm trying really hard not to make a joke," you managed.

You didn't have to be facing Chan to know his expression was one lacking amusement. "Height discrimination aside."

"It's hardly discrimination to point out that-"

"I am tall enough!" he gasped. "Now quit making this about me and my extraordinary tallness."

"Right, right," you laughed. "Being small, but definitely not in a height way. I'm with you."

"I mean like, in the universe," he continued. "Like when you look up at the stars, don't you feel so..."

"Insignificant?" you chirped. Spinning around in Chan's arms, you searched his face. His lips were slightly parted, and eyebrows furrowed as his eyes locked on yours. "Like a bit of dust on this giant space rock?"

"That," he laughed. "Even with making somewhat of a name for myself. Coming out here and looking up into the sky really grounds me."

"You're the most grounded person I know," you hummed, poking lightly at his chest. "And you've made more than "somewhat" of a name for yourself."

"I'm not fishing for compliments, Y/N," he smiled.

"You shouldn't have to fish," you sighed. "Not when you deserve every single one of them."

"Just spitting facts then?" he chuckled, shaking his head. He leaned forward and placed his forehead against your shoulder. "Maybe I should tell you a fact then."

You leaned backward, forcing him to stand up straight. Your eyes grew wide in anticipation. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," he nodded, biting his lip. "Not to alarm you, but there is a concerningly large crab right behind you."

You narrowed your eyes, trying to process what you thought would be a compliment. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Monster crab," he said shortly. "Directly behind your right leg."

Closing your eyes, you let out a slow exhale. "Please tell me you're joking."

"We can either run or-"

"What's he going to do!" you gasped. "Pinch me to death?"

"Hey, I'm just thinking of your safety here," he laughed, keeping his focus trained behind you. "His beaty little eyes...that's just not right."

"Don't insult him!" you cried, remaining still. "How did we decide it was a "him" anyway?"

"You're right," Chan said, nodding in what you assumed to be the crab's direction. "I'm sorry for assuming your gender. I should have asked."

"Chris," you groaned. "I'm just going to quickly-"

At that moment, you felt a small pull on your sweatpants. You glanced down, and to your horror, the crab had pinched the fabric.

With little fanfare, you took off running, hauling Chan with you. It didn't take much to shake yourself from the crab's clutches, but it didn't stop your sprint. Making your way back to the road, you finally paused at the entry to the beach and collapsed into Chan's arms. He swung you around, giggling until you both finally plopped into the sand, tangled in each other.

Both of you let out shaky laughter between strained breaths, all the while maintaining tentative eye contact.

"That," you huffed. "That was ridiculous."

"I can see the news now," Chan nodded. "Two beachgoers assaulted by mutant crustacean."

"Mutant?!" you hiccupped.

"How else could it have possibly gotten that big!" Chan argued. "I thought he was going to start speaking to us in Korean at any moment. I saw ninja turtles; I know how it works!"

"I'd hardly count ninja turtles as a reputable source," you sighed, sitting up. Chan did the same and grimaced.

"I guess I kind of ripped you off about the fact, didn't I?"

You thought to your conversation pre-ocean spider attack. "I mean, you weren't lying."

"I wanted to say something nice about you though," he grumbled.

"I know this may come to you as a shock, but you are still perfectly capable of doing that now."

Glancing at you quickly, his pout broke into a smile. "You're right."

"I'm aware."

Shaking his head, Chan reached to tuck a piece of your frazzled hair behind your ear. "My smart and beautiful, Y/N. It is a fact that you have completely stolen my heart."

You groaned before smacking him in the chest. "So corny!"

"No, no, wait!" he laughed, gripping the wrist of the hand that had just hit him. He pressed it flat over his heart. "Really! When I was talking about how I felt so...insignificant in the grand scheme of things. You have this way of making me feel less alone.

I've felt so lonely for so much of my life, your companionship has been a shock to my system. Of course I have my boys, but it's different when you have romantic feelings for someone. There's this hole that's been filled that I didn't even realize existed."

"Don't let any of them know you said that," you whispered. Your chest felt so full with his words. Chan's whole existence was the equivalent of a warm hug.

"I'm pretty sure they already know," he smiled easily. "Thank you for letting me show you this side of myself."

"No thanks needed, silly," you whispered. Leaning forward, you pressed a light kiss to his mouth. Pulling back, you felt a zing to your stomach as you watched him lick his lips. "I'm glad you feel safe with me."

"I do," he nodded. Quirking a brow, he smirked. "At least whenever we're not being attacked by ocean life."

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ky-yk · 8 months

Text

get up (kzh x f!reader)

a sequel to “cool with you (kzh x f!reader)”

genre: fluff || word count: 1k

author’s note: the ending sounds sad but i swear it isn't alright

stop, don’t touch me there! this is, my no-no square!

you jolted awake at the sound of the offending song. heartbeat racing at the thought of possibly missing your first class of the day, you were gearing up to get ready on autopilot with your eyelids still lidded until your brain finally caught up with you:

it’s a saturday.

with a groan and an eye roll, you immediately plopped back down. instead of meeting the mattress beneath you, though, your back instead it the very lithe, very toned arm of your girlfriend, nakamura kazuha.

you shot back up and winced at the contact, face contorting in cringe. yikes, i hope i didn’t wake her up, you thought. you slowly turned around, keeping your eyes closed until you faced the girl, slowly opening your eyes to see whether you’d woken the girl.

thankfully enough, she’s still dead to the world.

with a sigh of relief, you looked around, wondering what you should do now that you were wide awake. soon enough, your eyes wandered down to the sight of a sleeping kazuha.

she’d never looked more at peace: eyes fluttered closed, her long eyelashes sticking out. her face was relaxed, the light streaming in from your windows coloring her in a soft glow that accentuated her long nose bridge, her hair plump lips, and her soft cheeks. she looked so small engulfed in her hoodie.

she looks so beautiful.

“you know i can feel you staring, right?”

breaking out of your lovesick daze, you snapped out of your reverie to see your girlfriend stretching awake and yawning. you tried to laugh it off. “psh, me? staring? you wish,” you playfully scoffed — exaggerated eye roll and everything.

“me when i lie,” she yawns as she reaches up to wrap her arms around your waist, drawing you closer to her lying body. once you’re close enough, she nuzzles herself into your waist, leaving you chuckling at the sight.

“what time is it?” you barely make out what she’s saying, but when you do, you reach over her for your phone.

“9:20,” you read out the time.

“eh?!“ she exclaimed (you still had to exert a little more effort to try to hear her, though). “still so early, y/n-ie,” she whined, hugging you closer and pretty much dragging you to lie back in bed with her.

“that is not early, zuha-chan!” you said exasperatedly, putting your phone down dramatically as you looked at the koala around your waist. “i’d be in my first period class around this time.”

“and we love that for you,” she deadpanned. rolling your eyes, you reached down to take her arms from off your waist.

“what are you doing?” she whined.

“i’ll go make us breakfast, zuha-chan. you can keep resting here, i’ll just bring you your food,” you reasoned out. she just mumbled something you couldn’t bother to make out anymore. you think she’s finally relented once you don’t feel her fighting back, allowing you to quietly get up and go out into the kitchen.

after taking out the ingredients you needed, you now found yourself standing by the stove, waiting for the oil to heat up before you could pour the eggs in.

once the eggs were in, you started moving them around in the pan with your spatula, ensuring that all sides were cooked evenly. you stared at the pan, so intently focused that you started zoning out and working on autopilot.

that was until long and lithe arms wrapped around your torso, pulling you out of your reverie and back into the real world. you felt a chin drop on your shoulder and someone’s front pressing up against your back. your heart began calming down after realizing it was just kazuha and not some stranger who’d magically broken into your house.

relishing in her embrace, a small smile graced your lips as you focused on your cooking. the girl behind you hummed. “smells good, babe,” she commented before nosing at your neck and leaving to set the table. you felt the heat rise up from that spot on your neck all the way up to your ears, and you hoped that if she noticed, she’d just chock it up to the heat from the stove.

the house was quiet, save for the shuffling around of feet, the clinks and clangs of kitchen utensils, the sizzle of the pan, and your soft humming. it was easy.

you and kazuha maneuvered around the kitchen and dining room as if it was a choreographed dance. soon enough, you’d set the food on the dishes she set out and brought them to the dining table while she readied up a glass of water for you both by your plates. you returned to the stove to put your dirty dishes in the sink, and when you turned back around, kazuha was already sat at her place, mindlessly staring at the table while zoning out.

the moment you sat down, you gently knocked on the table to get her attention. she jumped a little bit and blinked once before noticing your easy yet amused smile. she returned your smile with an equally bright yet tired smile, her eyes closing into crescents. you motioned to her food and she nodded in response, leaving you to munch down on your own food.

silence enveloped you both as you peacefully ate your breakfast. once you and kazuha had finished breakfast, you volunteered to bring your dishes to the sink since the girl was back to zoning off. after depositing the dishes, you walked behind the girl and wrapped your arms over her shoulders and rested your weight on the girl.

"penny for your thoughts, zuha-chan?" you mumbled.

"'m just tired," she replied.

rising from your position, you walked around her and made your way over to her lap. she immediately wrapped her arms around your waist as you did the same around her neck. she went back to burying her face in your neck and just stayed there for a while.

you brought the girl closer by cradling her head closer to you while she dragged you closer into her. you sighed. "that beat, zuha-chan? you slept like you were dead last night," you chuckled lightheartedly.

"just wanna stay like this," kazuha mumbled. "too much out there. too loud."

"then we can stay like this."

oh how you wished you could stay like this.

#🐻 — ky writes #le sserafim #girl group imagines #lesserafim imagines #lesserafim x reader #nakamura kazuha #kazuha x reader #lesserafim kazuha

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starlitmark · 9 months

Text

𝑴𝒖𝒅𝒅𝒚 𝑷𝒖𝒅𝒅𝒍𝒆𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑹𝒐𝒔𝒆𝒃𝒖𝒅𝒔

Summary: If only you knew how to look where you were flying Pairing: garden fairy!San x fem frost fairy!yn Tropes: fairy au Genre: fluff Rating: G Warnings: language but Tinkerbell-ified Word Count: 808 Note: for the Ateez Fairy collab hosted by @cultofdionysusnet

You’re so incredibly late to your duties to start the season-changing. You aren’t a wind fairy, but you fly at a speed that could rival them. As you fly, you take notice of a few blooms starting to sprout from the Earth. The garden fairies are putting their work in to make everything look pretty for the upcoming spring season. Then you see one garden fairy in particular that steals your breath away. He’s stunning, to say the least. He has the prettiest smile you’ve ever seen, and his white blonde hair stands out boldly against the dark green grass he’s surrounded by. You end up being so distracted by him that you don’t look where you’re flying. One moment you’re zipping through the air, and the next, you’re stuck in some sort of soft textured red thing.

“Oh, jingles.” you huff, trying to see if you can find you’re way out of whatever this is.

Suddenly the thing around you opens up, and you see daylight peeking in. As it opens more, you realize you flew directly into a rosebud and managed to get yourself stuck inside. You’re already embarrassed, but when you see the garden fairy that’s helping you, you think it wouldn’t be so bad if you stayed stuck inside the bud. That pretty garden fairy you were stunned by is the one who’s freeing you. You see his pretty smile alongside a deep set of dimples. His pale blonde hair pushed up and out of his face, showing sharp angles. You try to hide in your hands for a moment, hoping that it isn’t reality that he’s helping you.

“What a pretty flower.” he muses from his place on the ground.

“Yeah, yeah.” you sigh, staying sat in the now bloomed rose, “You guys are really putting a lot of effort in this year.” “Oh,” he smiles widely, almost resembling a cat, “I was talking about you.”

You feel the heat of a blush rush through your neck and your cheeks. You hold your face hoping to cool it down. The garden fairy looks amused, though. He’s still smiling brightly at you from the ground.

“You wanna come down here so I can properly introduce myself?” he offers.

You look down at the ground properly this time and realize he’s standing in a large muddy puddle, “I… don’t do mud.” you admit.

He chuckles, “It’s not that bad, see?” he giggles as he stomps down into the mud, some splashing up onto the bottom of his pants.

You groan, “Watch out, I’m making an ice patch next to you.”

The garden fairy steps sideways and gestures for you to do as you wish. You gently move your hand and watch as the ice crystals form a patch big enough for you to stand comfortably beside him. After flying down, you grimace at the amount of mud around you. The blonde fairy has a bit on his cheek, which he likely doesn’t care about at all.

He reaches his hand out to you, they’re slightly dusted with dirt, but it’s clear he’s trying to give you a friendly gesture. You take it in yours and shake it. Shivers run up and down your spine and through your wings as you make contact with him.

“I’m San,” he smiles, “do I get the pleasure of knowing your name, pretty flower?”

“I’m y/n.” you smile back, “I’d love to stay, but… they need me over at the shift point and-”

“You’re running late,” he chuckles, “I could tell that from the moment I saw you fly into that rosebud.”

You groan again, “Yeah… do you maybe wanna fly over with me? They won’t believe me if I said I got stuck and had to let the handsome garden fairy help me…” you throw your hand over your mouth as soon as you process that you said he was handsome out loud.

San smiles at you, “I’ll go with you if-”

“If?”

“Just walk through the mud. It’s not that bad.” he giggles.

You sigh but tentatively toe into the mud just off of your ice patch. Cringing, you take a deep breath and take a step fully. San walks ahead to where the dry dirt is. The adoration is practically dripping from his eyes. He literally just met you, but he thinks he may risk it all for the pretty frost fairy in front of him. He watches as you cringe with each step. Small whines about how your pale blue and white clothing is getting covered in the dark mud. The moment you reach him, you look at him and huff an exasperated sigh at him.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it, Snowdrop?” he giggles, booping your nose.

“It was horrible. Never make me walk through the mud again.” you whine.

Networks: @kwritersworld @k-vanity @cultofdionysusnet

Tag List: @sanjoongie @jaehunnyy @ericssmile @anyamaris

#san fluff #cultofdionysusnet #kwritersworldnet #kvanity #tinkerbell who #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez fluff #san fanfic #san x reader

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dark-side-blog3 · 2 months

Text

I feel like if you want to escape the house of lamentation, you have to be REAL careful what method you use.

If you make Leviathan or Asmodeus bored of you— not hate! Just bored, and make them realize they would get more of a reaction from someone else, spending time to show them some prime examples of partners while also showing that when you do try you just can’t compete, and they’re ultimately putting too much effort into a relationship that even if you agree to, you just aren’t going to give them enough… If you bore them, you’ll walk away scot free.

However, boring them won’t work with everyone. Some of them you have to make hate you. Lucifer for example would be able to find contentment in a less than glamorous life with you. So, you need to do your best to just be horrible for his image. Every intimate act is public and you gush over him, lowering your self worth and by extension: his. He can’t be associated with someone who embarrasses him so often when he tries to be nice, in his roundabout way. And you shouldn’t be telling everyone his business!

Mammon is a bit trickier, because he’s got such a tolerance for being bullied, and for cringe, so you can’t embarrass him. But you can nag him on his faults constantly, throw away parts of his hoard with the reasoning that it’s “unsanitary” and trying to “tidy up” his room. Always rat him out to debt collectors, demand he throw away the biohazard’s in his room, discreetly deep clean his car and throw out any trash you find. Don’t be cruel to him, it’ll only make him cling harder despite being unhappy. But make it known that if you are in his space, his things aren’t safe. And he’ll slowly pull away, years at a time. Try to remain friends, knowing full well you won’t be. He’ll find it too weird, given his previous obsession and possessive tendencies to you.

And again: you have to be really, really careful what method you choose. Because if you over or under do it, any of them may just become worse.

For example, it’s best to make Beel feel like you can protect yourself for the most part, and he only needs to step in occasionally. Don’t feed into his delusions, but don’t deny them outright. Let him feel like the best way to help you is to be distant. Because if Beelzebub feels disillusioned with you, you’re not going to have a more obsessed demon.

Beel, if throughly annoyed and no longer enamoured with you, will stop seeing you as this whimsical and cunning human, and will begin to just see you as human. You’re about as special as any other human, about as in need of protection. But that doesn’t change your species. Did those other humans have interests, hobbies, ideology, friends, family, a vision for their life? Maybe. But that never stopped him before.

You were kept alive, like one might keep a pet pig or chicken. And though you can put a ribbon on it, it is what it is in the end. And since you’ve outlived your purpose as anything else: Beelzebub is going to eat you.

#yandere obey me nightbringer #yandere obey me #yandere obey me shall we date #yandere lucifer morningstar #yandere lucifer #yandere mammon #yandere levi #yandere leviathan #yandere asmo #yandere asmodeus #yandere beel #yandere beelzebub #my writing!#reader death #death tw #cannibalism tw #yandere x reader #yandere obey me x reader

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blueraineshadows · 11 months

Note

Hey I have a Garreth fic idea if youre down for it?

So I was thinking about Garreth being absolutely infatuated with MC, and it drives him mad when she keeps being whisked away to defeat poachers and dark wizards.

Then she gets severely hurt and taken to hospital, where Garreth had a sudden outburst of frustration when she's in the hospital bed and he storms off.

After MC gets better she decides to confront Garreth where he spills out his feelings about loving her and being afraid of seeing her badly hurt (or dead if one of the raids goes wrong).

MC also has strong feelings for him and she admits it too, then they make out hard and then things escalate from there if you know what I mean 😏

I hope the idea is good enough as I've never made a fic request before 😅

I love a Garreth request! ❤️

Have some Weasley Wednesday content!

Garreth Weasley x F!MC - fluff, injury, angst, smut NSFW 🔞

He just couldn't help it. He just had to shuffle a little closer and peer over MC's shoulder as she stirred her cauldron. Her potion was looking fairly decent he noticed, the colour almost perfect. He dared to lean a little closer, the scent of her perfume teasing his nose. "Not bad, MC," he said.

She gave him a little sideways look, her lips curving up into that cute little smirk she did. His heart did a little flip. Why was she so damn cute? It was killing him.

"I guess all the pointers you've been giving me are paying off," she said.

He beamed at her praise, shifting to lean casually against the work table in an effort to look cool. Unfortunately, his elbow caught against a pot of dittany leaves and it tumbled over, the leaves scattering everywhere. "Oh, shit," he muttered. He quickly scrambled to gather up said pot and leaves, a blush colouring his cheeks.

MC bit back a giggle. "What are you doing?" She hissed under her breath, turning to keep an eye out for Sharp. Garreth didn't need any more detentions.

Garreth was scooping the leaves frantically into the pot. "It's fine, no problem," he muttered. He put the pot back where it had been, dusting off his hands and throwing her a sheepish grin. "See? As if it never happened."

Her smile did things to him, fluttering, chaotic things, but he was finding it to be quite addictive. If she was nearby, he had to have an excuse to be next to her. If he got to accidently brush up against her, or, even better, if she put her hand on him, (which she had done, three times now!), then it was enough to make his day.

After following her with his eyes for two years, he might finally pluck up the courage to do something about it. Maybe.

When class was over, Natty leant close to speak into his ear as they packed up their things. "Why don't you just ask her out?"

"Who?" He asked.

Natty gave him a look. "You couldn't be more obvious. She isn't seeing anyone, you know. Just ask!"

Garreth chewed his bottom lip as he watched MC walk out of class. If only it was that easy.

....*....

"Psst!"

Garreth looked up from his book, glancing around the courtyard. He had found a quiet spot to study, catching up on some reading ready for mock exams that were fast approaching. He frowned. Who had made that noise?

"Psst, Garreth!"

He looked up again, a smile brightening his face as he saw MC beckoning him over. She was peering around a column, clearly not wanting to be seen. Curious, he closed his book and headed over.

As soon as he was close, her hand whipped out and clutched his sleeve, she yanked him behind the column and led him towards a shadowed corner. "Ooop, what's this then?" He asked, a little surprised.

She double checked nobody was looking before pulling out a wooden box from her enchanted pocket. "I have a gift for you, but it's er...how shall I put this...hot property? Black Market stuff?"

He looked at the box, his eyes shooting back to hers at her choice of words. "You mean...stolen?"

She cringed. "Shhh!" She pulled him further into the corner. "Not so loud. But, yes...I acquired them, so to speak. I raided an Ashwinder camp, and when I was having a rummage through their supplies I saw this, and I immediately thought of you."

He frowned. "Another Ashwinder camp? Merlin, MC, I thought you were done with all that these days."

Her smile was rueful. "I stumbled across it," she said. She gave a little shrug. "What can I say? I'm addicted to the adrenaline I guess."

"You could get seriously hurt," he grumbled. The very thought made his stomach twist up into knots.

"I'm fine," she insisted. She gestured to herself as proof and smiled. "Perfectly well."

She was most certainly perfect. And too good at winning him over. His gaze dropped to the box. "So, what is it?"

"Open it," she said, excitedly.

It was a fully stocked potion kit, and some of the ingredients were very rare. He gasped as he inspected some of the vials. "These are amazing!"

She was practically bouncing with joy. "I knew you would love it."

He smiled at her, all forgiven. She smiled back. Gods, he could just fucking kiss her right now!

But he didn't. He just gave her a hug instead. And when her arms squeezed him right back, he knew he would be replaying this moment over and over before he went to sleep tonight.

....*....

Garreth had been lounging back on the sofa in the Gryffindor common room, reading up about some of the ways his new ingredients could be used, when he heard some 6th year students come in, gossiping.

"Did you see all the blood?" One of them said.

"Yeah, she didn't look good," the other replied. "I've seen her in Crossed Wands, she is bloody good at duelling, whatever this was it must have been bad."

"It was Sallow's face that got me," the first one said. "I always thought he was scared of nothing, but he looked scared as he carried her in."

Garreth sat up, an unsettling feeling washing over him. "What's that you said? Why was Sallow looking scared?"

They both paused and gave each other a look. The boy gave Garreth a grave face. "We just saw him carrying MC to the hospital wing. She was cut up pretty bad."

"Not moving either," the other one said.

Garreth shot up from the sofa, panic gripping him. "When was this?"

"Just now."

Garreth ran.

....*....

Sebastian was sitting just inside the entrance of the hospital wing, a cut on his forehead and lashes on his arms. Garreth gaped at him. "What happened?"

"Ashwinders," Sebastian sighed. His face was tight with worry and he looked towards where curtains had been drawn around a bed. "I only just managed to get MC out of there. It was bad."

Garreth sighed in fear and annoyance. "Why do you two do this shit?"

Sebastian scowled. "Don't start, Weasley. I've just had Ominis chewing my ear off, I don't need you at it as well."

Garreth was struggling to get a full breath in his lungs. "How bad is she?"

Sebastian paled. He stared at Garreth. "I know you like her..." He trailed off. He swallowed and looked back towards MC. "Just...prepare yourself. She got hit with a pretty powerful Diffindo."

It was a while before Garreth was even allowed to see MC. Sebastian sat with him for a while, but Nurse Blainey sent him away with strict orders to get some sleep. Sebastian promised to be back first thing.

Finally, Garreth was allowed to see her. As he peered around the curtains, Garreth winced, his eyes burning with tears at the sight of her asleep in that bed. Her skin was awfully pale, and the wounds...gods! How was she still alive?

He sat on the chair beside her bed and took her hand into his. He had always imagined what it would be like to hold her hand, he never expected the first time to be like this. It hurt. It made him angry. He could have lost her.

Who was he kidding? He didn't even have the nuts to ask her to be his. And look at her, running around fighting dark wizards and facing death on the regular. He didnt even deserve her.

But he would still sit at her bedside. There was nowhere else he would rather be.

....*....

It took a week for the worst of the wounds to close, and she was weak. But she still had a smile for him when Garreth visited, bringing treats from Honeydukes, and telling her about the exciting new ideas he had for the box of ingredients she had given him.

"You will have them all used up in no time," she said. She smiled. "I'm glad you like them."

"Even if I do use them all up, you won't go out looking for more trouble to find more, will you?" Garreth felt his stomach clench at the thought of her out there again, risking her life.

"I don't look for trouble, Garreth," she frowned. "But, I also won't stand by and watch others cause pain and trouble either. Innocent people get hurt!"

"Like you, you mean?" Garreth bit out. "And why is that your problem? You should be here, studying, preparing for your exams, not running around catching dark wizards."

She stared at him. "If I want to be an Auror then it's all experience," she said. "I have a unique gift, Garreth. Of course I am going to use it for the greater good."

He knew he was being a git, but his fear was clawing up his throat. He couldn't get the image of those wounds out of his mind. They were almost faded now, but he would always remember the red, angry slices on her beautiful skin.

"You almost died! If Sebastian hadn't been there, you would have!"

"But he was there," she said. She reached for his hand. "I'm alright. I will be out of here in no time."

"And then you will be running off to get yourself killed properly, I suppose."

She pulled her hand back. "I'm not going to let this stop me from doing what is right," she said, firmly.

"Then I guess you'd better hope that Sebastian will always be there to catch you when you fall," he said, bitterly. He shunted the chair back and stood, his hands clenched into fists. He had to get out of here.

"Garreth..." She sounded hurt, sad.

He paused at the curtains edge and turned to look back at her. She was utterly beautiful, pale and tired, but so perfect. He thought he might cry. "I just...I just can't lose you. I'm sorry."

He rushed from the hospital wing, regretting those last words out of his lips and the rawness with which he had spoken. The truth of them rung in his ears and he blinked back tears.

....*....

He couldn't face going back to the hospital wing to see her. He felt like an idiot, and he was pretty sure he had annoyed her. None of it seemed fair, and he had been in a foul mood for the last two days. The only time he bit back his frustration was when he asked Sebastian how she was doing.

Sebastian clapped him on the shoulder. "She will be out tomorrow, mate," he said. "You two need to talk. Not only am I sick of seeing your miserable mug, but I am getting rather tired of listening to her worrying over you."

Garreth frowned. "Worrying over me?"

Sebastian sighed. "You haven't been to see her, and she's noticed."

....*....

"So, this is where you've been hiding."

Garreth looked up from his notes, the parchments spread out on the bench in front of him covered in scribbled notes, some crossed out, some underlined. Beside him, his potion box was open and there were vials scattered around the cauldron that was simmering away nicely.

Working on his passion was always a good distraction, and he had begged to use the classroom after hours. Lately, he had been rather well behaved in class, and his assignments had been receiving good grades. Somehow, he was in Sharp's good books.

The reason for the need of distraction had just walked into the room. He had set himself up around the corner, hidden from the door for maximum peace and quiet. But, MC had found him. He put down his quill and slid his hands into his pockets. "Hi," he said.

She moved closer, her wounds healed, her face looking much healthier than the last time he had seen her. His mouth couldn't help but curve up a little. He had missed her.

"What are you working on?" She leant onto the table, picking up a parchment to see his notes. She grinned. "How can you even read these? Your scribbles are barely legible."

"I know what it says, and this way nobody can steal my ideas," he said. He tapped his temple and gave her a wink.

Her cheeks turned a little pink and she slid the parchment back towards him. She cleared her throat and peered into the cauldron. "So, tell me, what genuis are you brewing up this time?"

He pinched his lower lip between thumb and forefinger, eyeing her carefully. Was she going to be cross with him? He'd had to do something. The fear and worry was driving him crazy.

She met his gaze, curious. "Garreth, what is it?"

"It's..." He sighed, cringing a little. "It's an advanced healing potion. I figured that if you really were that determined to go off fighting every bad wizard that dares step foot in your vicinity, then I would rather you went prepared."

He rubbed his hand through his hair, feeling like a first class prick. It sounded like he didn't believe in her capabilities, but he did.

She stared at him, lips parted in surprise. "Why would you do all of this for me? I thought you were mad at me."

"I wasn't exactly mad at you," he said.

"Then what was it?" She asked.

He couldn't meet her eyes. She would see the truth. He was a rubbish poker player.

He startled as she grabbed his hand. His eyes flew to hers. "Tell me the truth," she begged. "I know you sat by my bedside, and you told me you couldn't lose me. Now you're trying to make a potion for me, to stop me getting hurt. What I want to know is why you can't even look at me? Why are you avoiding me? Please, Garreth...I can't lose you either!"

He sucked in a breath. For the life of him, he couldn't tear his gaze from hers now. She was close enough that he could see the little flecks of colour in her eyes, each eyelash curling up to frame those beautiful eyes that he could drown in. He was up to his neck in it with her, it was quite possible he would drown.

"I think I love you," he admitted. "You're beautiful, and you drive me fucking nuts. You're brave, you're brilliant, you make me smile...fuck, I think about you all the time."

The words just kept spilling from his lips, and her eyes were getting wider and wider, but now that he had started he just couldn't stop.

"When you run off to fight Merlin know's what, I'm scared shitless that you won't come back. I couldn't bear it if I never saw you again. Seeing you lying in that hospital bed damn near floored me, MC. I wasn't angry...I was scared."

He put a hand to his mouth. He had to stop this spouting off, she was going to run right back out of this room at any moment, shouting to whomever cared to listen that Weasley had lost his mind. He squeezed his eyes shut and turned his face away. Exposed was too mild a word for how he felt right then. He felt his cheeks growing hot and he wanted to disappear through the floor.

"Garreth," she whispered. He felt the gentle tug of her fingers on his shirt sleeve. "Garreth, please, look at me..."

His breath shook. What an idiot! But he dropped his hand and braced himself to turn back to her. He gaped. She was crying!

"Er...shit...what?" He was confused, his hands flapped uselessly as he thought about touching her, offering her some kind of comfort, but then thought maybe it was best not to. "You're upset...oh, shit. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say all that. Ignore me, I'm an idiot. Fuck, me and my big mouth..."

He grunted as she pressed her hand against his mouth, then she huffed a laugh through her tears and now he was really fucking confused. What was happening?!

"If you would just shut that big mouth of yours for a minute, then I just might be able to get a word in!"

He didn't dare move. His lips were tingling under the touch of her fingers. "Sorry," he mumbled. The word muffled against her restraint.

She smiled, her eyes all shiny with tears. He hated that he had made her cry. But, that thought soon vanished as she shifted the fingers that were pressed to his mouth. She slid them slowly along to trace the line of his jaw. He swallowed so hard it was almost a gulp.

Then, bloody hell, she was leaning in, her face getting ever closer. His heart quickened to a gallop. He might have even made a strange, whining noise, he wasn't entirely sure. Her lips touched his and every fibre of his being was screaming. She's kissing me!

He stared as her eyes fluttered closed, honestly her cuteness just went up another notch, and her lips were so soft. Not one, or two, but three soft kisses before she stopped to look up at him.

"Wow," he croaked. Nice one, Weasley, that will charm her.

She giggled. And then she booped him on the nose. "You're so cute," she said.

Cute? He didn't want her to think he was cute! He wanted her to be breathless, flushed and swooning in his arms.

He kissed her, his lips sealing firmly over hers, his hand coming up to cup the back of her head. He tilted her slightly, leaning forward to dip her backwards a little. Her hands gripped at the front of his shirt, and a small sound came from the back of her throat. Yes, this was much better.

Gods, she felt so good in his arms. His other hand moved to her waist, the delicious curve of it a delight under his gentle caress. She arched against him, her softness a tantalising tease, and he felt the blood rush immediately to his pants.

He kissed at her bottom lip, his tongue swirling for a taste, and when she parted her lips, he didn't hesitate, months of yearning driving him to kiss her deeper. He moaned into her mouth, his hand moving to pull her hips in closer. His blood thrummed through his veins, a haze of desire, thick and heady, was wrapping around him, driven by her little sounds and gasping breaths.

He felt her hands tugging at his shirt, pulling it out of his waistband, and then she was sliding warm palms over his stomach and back. His cock twitched eagerly, the feel of her touch making him sigh, making him want her all the more fiercely.

He needed to taste more, hungry and desperate to bury himself against her softness, drown in her scent, his lips grazed against her throat, the skin there delicate and sweet. Animalistic need made him bite, his teeth gentle but possessive, his mouth drawing her flesh upwards into a heady suck. Her moan almost made him come undone.

As natural as breathing, their hands explored, he was tugging at her tie, loosening the buttons on her shirt, his mouth devouring the skin over her collar bones. Her fingers were in his hair, tugging sharply, raising goosebumps along his flesh.

It wasn't enough. He would always want more. But, he should stop, before this got too far, before he began to play out the naughty fantasy of taking her over the potions table. His face warmed at the thought.

Reluctantly, he pulled back a little, staring down at her flushed face. It was deeply satisfying to see the damp plumpness of her lips, the darkened look in her dazed eyes. Red blemishes marred her pretty neck, and the rumpled state of her clothing was incredibly sexy. He almost groaned with the effort of restraint.

"Why did you stop?" She panted.

He smiled. "Not exactly the most private of spots to ravish you."

Her smirk was utter sin. "Exciting though, right?"

His eyes flared at her naughtiness. "MC!"

Her giggle was very naughty, her hand smoothing over his stomach before tugging at his waistband. She looked up at him through her lashes. "I want you," she whispered.

Garreth sucked in a breath, the ache for her sharpening into a pain. He pressed his forehead to hers, his hands moulding her hips and around to cup her arse. Fuck, she was so soft and round and he wanted to bury himself in it.

"Do you want me?" The breathless moan in her words had him panting.

"Fuck, yes," he groaned.

She arched, grinding against him, slow, teasing rocks of her hips. Garreth could hardly breathe, staring at the movement she made, transfixed. His cock was straining in his pants, dripping and desperate.

Fuck the fact they were in a classroom, he couldn't quite care when she was writhing up against him like this. His hand had a life of its own, sliding up her skirt to reveal the tops of those high socks she wore, the silky skin of her bare thigh was utter bliss, and then he had a handful of peachy soft arse, his fingers hunting greedily under the fabric of her knickers. "Oh, fuck," he groaned, through gritted teeth.

He moulded the shape of her, his fingers tracing the sexy curve of her cheeks, the tips grazing dangerously close to her heat. She moaned, writhing against him. "Touch me," she begged.

He slid a hand a little lower, squeezing her cheek, before dipping his fingers below. She was hot and wet and he groaned as his fingers slid against the slick. She panted desperately, her finger nails beginning to bite into his skin.

He sucked at her neck, nibbled her ear. "More?" He asked. She nodded, whimpering.

He slid a hand around to tug open her knickers at the front, sliding a tentative finger in that way. He felt her thighs part eagerly, his breaths hot against her ear as he slowly circled the pad of his finger over her slippery folds. Fuck, she felt good.

He went for it, finding the hot throb of her opening and slid his finger inwards, her walls immediately clenching around him. "Fucking hell," he groaned.

"Yes," she panted. Her hips rocked. "Garreth..."

Now, he would happily admit that he was inexperienced, a few cheeky snogs did not prepare you for the full blown raging horniness of this moment. He was fucking loving it, in his element, but he was 100% winging it. He had no idea how experienced she was, but she was bold, he would give her that.

Despite the burning need to explode in his pants, Garreth was gentle as he touched her, his finger probing, sliding in and out in a slow rhythm as she moaned and clutched at him. "Good?" He asked.

"Yes," she whined. Her hand gripped his wrist, her fingers fumbling to hold his. She moved his finger a little, pressing against her and rubbing, an incredibly sexy sound spilled from her mouth. It was fucking filthy, and her hips rolled. "Oh, gods, yes...there, Garreth. Right there."

His eyebrows raised so high in arousal and wonder, he rubbed where she had put him, and watched as she became an absolute mess. He forgot about himself for now, he was transfixed, getting the hang of a rhythm as he swirled and rubbed against her clit. Her face and neck flushed crimson, and the sounds she made, fuck!

She pulled him in for a kiss, and he obliged, their tongues fighting for dominance as she panted and moaned into his mouth. He felt the bite of his own arousal hovering at the edge of his awareness, and he wasn't sure if he would be able to hold it off. He just worked his finger faster, concentrating on that.

And then, she was gasping, her hand slapping down onto the table top, and he felt her clench madly, juices throbbing out over his hand. She sagged and her held her about the waist. "Are you alright?" He asked.

She sighed, nodding, brushing her hair back from her flushed, sweaty face. "Never better," she gasped.

....*....

The bite of early winter chill stung his cheeks, turning them pink. He adjusted his scarf and held MC closer against him, savouring her warmth. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. She rested her head against his chest, her arms wrapped about his waist.

He thought he might be the happiest bloke in the world.

The rush and snap of Quidditch players rushed past and they both looked up. The match was in full swing, Gryffindor winning against Hufflepuff currently. Usually, he would be jumping up and down, hollering his head off, but today he was utterly content to stand and hold the girl he loved.

Leander had mocked him for going soft in the head, but he didn't care. One day, he was going to turn the teasing on him. He would take his mate's mocking quite happily, because this was quite possibly the best feeling in the world.

Well, almost. No, the best, was when they were both naked and holding each other close like this. Since that evening in the potions classroom, he had been unable to keep his hands to himself, addicted to making her fall apart like she had.

And when she returned the favour, or they timed it to jointly release their desire for each other, well...that was just fucking perfect in his eyes.

#hogwarts legacy fanfic #garreth weasley #mc x garreth weasley #garreth weasley smut #weasley wednesday #blueraineshadows

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