#oh well! we will cross that bridge if i ever get to it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

retrobutterflies · 2 years

Text

Menace | e.m.

Eddie Munson x Female!Reader

Summary: Telling a guy at a party that you have a boyfriend doesn't seem to deter him. Probably because that guy is your boyfriend and you're too drunk to realize.

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Drinking, Major Fluff, Established Relationship, Cute pet names

A/N: Don't ever settle for a relationship if they wouldn't do your night routine for you.

The music was starting to give Steve a headache. Gone were the days of being the keg king and beer pong master, first to have a drink and last to stumble his way home. Now suddenly he was more worried about drunk Robin asking people far too personal questions and even drunker you deciding to play another drinking game because you liked that it had cards in it.

"Please, I'm sincerely begging you, Y/N, just sit down–" you interjected with a whine, staring up at him with heartbroken eyes.

"Steve, the game just started. I didn't even break the circle–" a loud hiccup cut off your slurred protests making Robin let out a squeaking laugh from the seat next to you.

Steve let out a tired sigh, squeezing his eyes shut for a minute before zeroing in on the two of you.

"Well, we're gonna play a new game. It's called sit here while Steve makes a phone call," he said, eyes flickering from yours, wide and disgruntled, to Robin's, half lidded from the joint he had found in her hand, not a clue where she got it from.

"It sounds awful," you grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest and sinking back into the couch.

"Yeah the name sucks," Robin said, picking up an unfinished drink from the side table next to the couch. Steve snatched it from her before she could press it to her lips because it wasn't her drink and she had thrown in her half smoked joint not even thirty seconds before, the rolled blunt floating around in the dark liquid.

"Rob, stop trying to drink everything you see. You're not aquatic," he hissed, harshly dropping the drink on a table out of her reach.

"Well maybe I'm dehydrated, Steve. You gonna let me die of thirst?" she quipped back, eyes blinking slowly revealing red rimmed irises.

"Then I'll get you a water, Robin," he hissed back, eyes narrowing at her. "But first let me make one single phone call, okay? You're not gonna die of thirst in three minutes."

"I might! I feel my cells disintegrating as we speak!" she exclaimed, eyes wide. You turned to look at her, mouth dropping open slight in horror.

"Disintegrating?" you repeated.

"Every moment that passes–POOF. Another mitochondria bites the dust," she confirmed, giving you a sad smile and a shrug.

"No–" Steve pinched the bridge of his nose.

"That's terrible," you expressed, lips pouting and looking to Steve with an expression of alarm. "That's so sad."

"The saddest," she nodded again as Steve muttered an incredulous "Oh my god."

"We need to do something, Steve! Her mitochondria!"

"My mitochondria, Steve!" Robin echoed you, tone mocking as she smirked at him. Steve felt his headache growing steadily.

"Fine! Fine! I'll go get you a drink! Just stay on this fucking couch. Got it?" When neither of you protested, eyes flickering back and forth between your faces he added a strict Stay like you would a disobedient dog.

He hurried to find the house phone, knowing his timeframe was limited before the two of you wandered off in opposite directions, giving him another wild good chase to corral you together. It was late and he was tired and he desperately needed to call in some back up.

Punching in the numbers, Steve cast distasteful looks at the not so innocent sounds emanating from the bathroom adjacent from the landline. The phone rang for a while, making him fear no one was going to answer until finally the receiver picked up.

"Munson residence," the chirpy voice of Eddie Munson had Steve releasing a short-lived sigh of relief.

"Eddie, it's Steve," he said, pressing close to the wall to avoid two girls swaying dangerously and stumbling past him with mirroring green faces.

"Stevie! To what do I owe this pleasure?" Eddie seemed to be eating something as his words were slightly muffled.

"I need you to come get your girlfriend." He tried not to sound like he was begging even though that's exactly what he was doing.

There was shuffling on the line before Eddie's voice rang out clear, "She okay?"

Steve fought the urge to roll his eyes. "She's fine just plastered," he thought for a moment before adding with exasperation, "and like obsessed with card games. And really bad at them so she keeps losing and drinking more."

Eddie's charmed laugh sounded over the static of the receiver. Steve wanted to pull his hair out. Of course Eddie found anything you did endearing. You could insult Black Sabbath and he would still look at you like you put the stars in the sky. You had him completely under your enchantment.

"Just make sure she's not taking any," Eddie replied, his smile drenching his tone.

"Taking any what?"

"Card decks. She likes to collect them."

Steve was quiet. Eddie was quiet. Then Eddie laughed again and Steve had to resist banging his head against the wall.

"Eddie. I'm begging you. Please, just, come pick her up," he said through clenched teeth.

It didn't take Eddie long to reach the house party. You had mentioned where you were going earlier that night, commenting that it wasn't too far from where Corroded Coffin was playing and that maybe he could stop by after. He had agreed under the impression that you would probably be home by the time he was finished because it was far later than you were usually out. So he had headed home thinking you were in bed until Steve had called.

And now he was weaving through a legion of drunk high schoolers, on his way to relieve a very stressed sounding Steve from his never-ending babysitter duties. You were sat on a couch, arms crossed as you glared at Steve and Robin endlessly bickering about something. When Steve saw him he called him over.

"I'm taking Robin home. Good luck with that one because she snuck another drink in when I wasn't looking," Steve grumbled, hooking his arm through Robin's as she whined at him.

"What if I don't want to go home," Robin shot at him, eye brows raising.

"I don't care. It's late and I'm tired so we're leaving," he stated, tugging her towards the door.

"You're not the governor of the universe, Steve."

Eddie watched their retreating forms before turning his attention back on you. Your gaze seemed far away as you looked forward, not seeming to have even noticed his presence. He took few steps towards you before sinking into the seat next to you.

"Hey, trouble," he said, reaching out a hand to brush softly against your cheek.

You pulled away like you had been burned and turned to give him a glare. He lost his breath for a moment, confused by the sudden hostility.

"Can you leave me alone?" Your voice was slurred but it didn't conceal the overt bite to your tone. He felt a bubble of hurt grow in his chest, hand dropping to his lap.

"You want me to leave you alone?" he echoed, slightly bewildered. Hours before coming here you were pouting at him for not being able to join, acting as though it would physically hurt you to be away from him for a night. And now, suddenly, you didn't want him here? Were you mad at him for abandoning you?"

"Yeah. I have a boyfriend, so, you can leave," you bit back. He blinked at you, digesting your words, before relaxing. Your glassy eyes gave no indication that you realized it was him. You weren't mad at him, you were mad at the thought of a random guy bothering you at this party. He couldn't conceal his grin.

"Oh, yeah? What's his name?" he asked, playing along as the tension eased from his body. He wanted to reach out and push your hair behind your ear but restrained himself.

"Eddie. Eddie Munson. And he'll beat you up if he finds out you're bothering me," you proclaimed, arms crossed tightly over your chest as you glared at him, or however many versions of him you were seeing with your blurred vision.

"He will, will he?" he felt giddy at your admission.

He had had moments in your year long relationship where he let his insecurity eat away at him. You were beautiful and kind and alluring. You unconsciously had people gravitating towards you and sometimes he worried that one day someone would turn your head and steal you away from him. But seeing you be so cold to someone even attempting to have a conversation with you, bringing him up immediately, had his heart selfishly warming.

"Yeah and he's on his way to come get me. So try your luck with someone else," you concluded, words slightly garbled as you gave him your best glare.

"How many drinks have you had, trouble?" he asked, laughing incredulously. Your steely glare hardened. You unfolded your arms to poke him harshly in the shoulder.

"You don't get to call me that. Only my boyfriend can call me that," you stated, poking him again for good measure. It didn't hurt him but he feigned pain anyway, hand flying to his shoulder as he sunk back like he was shot.

He opened his mouth to respond but suddenly you were clambering your way off the couch, form swaying as the alcohol in your system made your vision spin. Eddie was up next to you in an instant, gripping your elbows to steady you.

"Easy, sugar. Don't want you face planting," he murmured, trying to bit back his laugh. You halfheartedly swatted him away, making him remove his hands from you only to hover them behind you in case you started swaying again.

"I just told you not to touch me. I'll beat you up myself if I have to," you said, giving his shoulder a light shove that had you stumbling instead of it's intended affect. Eddie ghosted his hands behind your back as you righted yourself, eyes dancing over your flushed face and glazed eyes.

You marched away from him, dead set on avoiding him and finding something to do until your actual boyfriend showed up. Eddie followed behind you like a shadow, eyes alight in amusement as he waited for you to finally realize it was him. You were nearly oblivious to your surroundings, bumping into people, stumbling over loose cans littering the floor. He followed behind, one hand floating to press your back lightly when you wobbled and the other pressing bodies away so you could move easier through the crowd.

When you found the front door and burst out into the cool air of the autumn night, you whirled around to give your stalker a piece of your mind only to freeze when you noticed his wiry curls and amused smirk.

"Eddie!" you breathed, voice airy and light as you tumbled towards him, arms flying to wrap around his neck. He let out a boisterous laugh, arms snaking around your midsection as he squeezed you tight, lifting you slightly from the ground.

"Hi, pretty," he breathed, face nuzzling into your neck to leave a few searing kisses. You molded into him, body relaxing and contented sigh seeping through your smiling lips.

"Eddie, what took you so long! There was this annoying creep who wouldn't leave me alone," you whined, breathing in his cologne and the faint smell of cigarettes. His chuckle vibrated into your neck making chills run up your spine. You pressed in tighter, addicted to his touch.

"Did you tell him to fuck off?" he asked, playing along, smirk widening as he pulled back, finally allowing himself to brush wild pieces of hair behind your ears.

"Told him I'd fight him," you replied and he gave you a bright grin.

"Good girl," he said, pinching your cheek lightly, before leaning in to press his lips to yours. You preened at the praise, stepping on tip toes to deepen the kiss that was making your head fuzzy. He smoothed both his hands on the sides of your face, thumbs resting on the apples of your cheeks, pecking your lips a few more times for good measure before he was reluctantly pulling back.

"Let's get you home, yeah, trouble?" You nodded, eager to go anywhere with him. He took your hand, pressing a kiss to the back of it before tugging you in the direction of his truck.

The drive to your house was filled with you animatedly recounting the party to Eddie, who listened with a soft smile on his face. There were moments where your slightly slurred speech and foggy memory made your stories hard to follow but anytime you laughed he did too, your glee contagious and endearing. He had to scold himself to pay attention to the road a few times when he felt his gaze being reeled in like sailor to a siren.

When you arrived at your home, you handed him your bag claiming your keys were somewhere in its depth. He turned the ignition off, the both of you sitting in the car as the heat slowly seeped into the chill of the night. He opened your bag and let out an incredulous laugh. At least three decks of cards were shoved into your small purse, stolen from a fair few disgruntled partygoers who probably wouldn't have suspected you as the thief in the slightest.

"You're a menace, you know that?" he commented, pushing the decks to the side so he could reach for the set of keys glinting at the bottom of the bag. You pouted at him, no clue what he was referring to. He chuckled, leaning over the inner consul to press a sweet kiss to your lips. "A cute one, but a menace."

"C'mon. Let get you inside," he said, unlocking the doors. You were nearly putting all of your weight on him as you headed to the front door of your house, body slung around him like a backpack. He had one arm wrapped around your back, pressing kisses to the top of your head every few steps, your bag looped over his shoulder.

As he fumbled with the lock, keys rattling against the metal of the doorknob, you mumbled something about your family being away when he winced at the noise he was making. And once you were inside, door shut behind you, he flicked on a few switches, lighting up the empty house. He dropped your bag and keys on the small table by the door before turning towards you.

With both arms wrapping around you, he bent slightly, his hands moving to cradle the backs of your thighs.

"Up," he commanded. You jumped, letting him hoist you into his arms as you wrapped yours around his neck, legs hooking his waist.

"'M, tired," you mumbled into his shoulder. His chest vibrated as he chuckled, taking cautious steps up towards the second floor.

"I bet. It's nearly two," he replied and you humphed in response. When he made it to your room, he slowly released his hold on you, letting you slide down until your feet touched the ground. You whined against him, not liking the idea of not being completely wrapped up in him.

"Need to get you ready for bed, sugar," he said, reaching around behind his neck to pry your arms away. You whined again but had little strength to resist him. He nudged you forward until the backs of your legs met your bed, causing you to reluctantly sit down, the mattress dipping slightly.

He crouched down so he could rest his weight on his knees, the carpet of your floor cushioning them. You were blinking slowly down at him like you were fighting against sleep. Hand wrapping around your ankle, he undid the laces and slipped off your sneaker, dropping it to the side. He repeated the action with your other shoe.

"I'm gonna get you something to change into, okay?" he said, pushing up from the floor. He kicked off his own shoes next to yours, pulling off his vest and then his jacket, draping them over your desk chair.

Your room was yards cleaner than his own and starkly different. Remnants of your childhood were woven together with band and movie posters, shelves of books, and colorful post-its and polaroids taped to your mirror. He spotted his face in many of them, heart warming each time he noticed yet another one of him you managed to find room for.

He headed for your dresser, pulling drawers open at random trying to find something for you to sleep in. His cheeks warmed at the drawer of underwear he yanked open, the pretty pastels and swirling lace making him swallow harshly. He wasn't here to be creepy he was here to be a doting boyfriend. He opened a few more until he found one of his shirts he thought he had misplaced. Menace, he thought.

When he turned around you had already begun slipping off your pants, kicking around until they flew off your ankles. He walked over to you as you were pulling your shirt over your head. His Adam's apple bobbed as his eyes trailed down the straps of your bra to the curves of your chest, heat rising on the back of his neck. He cleared his throat, averting his eyes as he chided himself. Now was not the time for that. He heard you undo your bra and kept his gaze on your sleepy eyes as he handed you the black T-shirt. You slipped it on without protest.

"Alright, now to the bathroom," he said, patting the side of your bare thigh.

"But I'm tired," you groaned, wrinkling your nose at the idea of exerting more energy.

"I know, trouble, but you still have your makeup on," he said, leaning over to take your hand in his. He held his other one out and you reluctantly grabbed it, letting him pull you up. He maneuvered the both of you into the bathroom. You wobbled against him, eyes squinting shut at the harshness of the overhead light. He let go of your hands to slide them to the sides of your ribcage. Then he lifted you so you were sat on the counter besides the sink.

“Okay, sleepyhead, I need you to direct me through your night routine,” he said, rubbing his hand on the side of your neck. You looked at him through bleary eyes before looking down at the counter. An assortment of bottles and serums and tubs of cream littered the expanse of the white laminate. You blinked heavily before pointing at one.

“That’s makeup remover,” you said as a yawn over took you. He picked it up, unscrewing the top and then staring blankly at you.

“Do I . . . use my hand?” he asked innocently. You giggled softly, leaning back to rest against the wall.

“No, silly. A cotton pad,” you replied, waving your hand in the direction of the cabinet. He found them, dropping a few as he struggled with the zip lock, before pulling one out. He tipped the clear liquid from the bottle, soaking the cotton pad before turning back to you.

“Eyes shut,” he ordered, stepping closer so your legs parted for his thighs. You followed his instructions, eyes fluttering shut as he brought the pad to your face.

Eddie was nothing if not gently when it came to you. The damp cotton brushed softly over your eyelids, over your eyebrows, down your temples, trailing your jaw, over your lips, and in circles on your cheeks. He could tell you were dozing, needing to move his other hand to frame your jaw so your head wouldn’t lull to the side.

Dropping the dirtied cotton pad in the trash, he grabbed a hand towel and soaked it under the tap. It was warm when he brought it to your face, the stitched loops of the towel swirling around as he wet the skin. Dropping it down, he scanned the array of bottles until he found one clearly labelled face wash. He squeezed probably too much onto his palms before moving to massage it around your face. The gel foaming as he circulated his fingers, tender movements nearly putting you to sleep. Your eyes blinked open, finding his focused on his movements, tongue poking out from between his lips in concentration. A balloon of affection blossomed in your chest.

“You’re my favorite person in the whole world,” you mumbled, blinking slowly at him like cat. His movements slowed as heat rushed to his cheeks at your words.

“Well you’re my favorite person in the whole universe,” he said back, moving to rinse the face wash from his hands. He re-wet the small towel and moved to wipe your face down. You pouted at him.

“That’s not fair. I can’t go any bigger than the universe,” you grumbled, unhappy that he outdid you so quickly. He let out an endeared laugh, hand moving to cup the back of your neck as he wiped the foam from your face.

“I don’t play fair, baby. Not when it comes to professing my undying love to you,” he said making you wrinkle your nose. He leaned in to press a quick kiss to your lips.

“I missed you tonight,” you confessed as he finished cleaning your face. He rinsed the towel in the sink before turning to look at you. Your head was resting against the wall, eyes half lidded in fatigue but glinting prettily under your lashes. He felt his chest tighten at the sight, his breath stalling for a moment at your effortless beauty.

“I always miss you when you’re not around,” you added. He moved to face you, chest coiling in unbridled affection, hands moving to cage your face in. He swiped his thumbs under your eyes, the soft skin glittering from the water.

“Wish I could be with you 24/7 but I don’t want you to get sick of me,” you continued, eyes fluttering up at him. He thought you might really kill him.

“Not even in an alternate dimension could I get sick of you. Not even in a hypothetical scenario. Not even if my life depended on it,” he replied, moving closer until your noses were almost touching. Your hands snaked around his torso, tugging him closer, bunching up the back of his shirt.

“If you’ll have me I’ll probably be up your ass until the end of time,” he added, making a peel of giggles erupt from you. His eyes squinted as he smiled, leaning in to press his lips to yours, your giggles dissolving into his affection.

“Now, no more being cute until we’re done with this,” he said after pressing yet another kiss to your lips. Your swollen lips chased his to steel another, then another before he was squeezing your sides, making you squirm and laugh as he pulled away.

You leaned back against the wall, eyes drooping as he continued, grabbing your moisturizer and spinning open the cap. He repeated his gentle motions over your face, swiping softly around your eyes and smoothing any tension from your face.

“Brush,” you blinked your eyes open noticing him holding out your toothbrush, toothpaste already sitting on the bristles. Your movements were sluggish but you managed, leaning over to spit in the sink before he was handing you a cup of water to rinse.

You were both quiet for a moment. He watched as you leaned your head back, eyes shut. His hands trailed the sides of your thighs, brushing the skin, squeezing slightly, warming them and making goosebumps appear. His eyes danced around your face, taking in your peaceful features. You were breathtaking even when on the edge of sleep. He was completely enamored with you. He never thought someone could have him so enchanted that he would be taking their makeup off before bed and making sure they brushed their teeth but you had sent him one dazzling smile and he was lost in a sea of desire to take care of you for as long as he lived.

“Alright, ready for bed?” he asked, affectionately brushing his thumbs on the tops of your thighs. You nodded, slumping forward to wrap your arms around his neck. He tugged you forward, hands slinking under your thighs to pull you up into his arms.

He laid you gently on your bed, pulling the covers down so you could slip your legs in until he was moving the duvet up over you. He wandered back over to your dresser, digging back into the bottom drawer where he knew a treasure trove of his clothes was hidden, never to be seen in his closet again. He slipped off his pants and then shirt, pulling on an old Van Halen T-shirt, the ratty edges brushing against the waistline of his boxers.

"You're staying, right?" your sleepy voice rang out from the bed. He kicked his pile of clothes to the side, knowing you were going to chide him for it tomorrow.

"Wouldn't dream of leaving," he answered, pulling off his rings, the silver clanking as he dropped them on your desk.

He hurried to shut the lights off before he was crawling in beside you, finding your sleepy body in the dark and pulling you into him. You let out a contented sigh, warm breath tickling his neck, making him pull you in even tighter.

He wasn’t sure how he had gotten so lucky. Nothing seemed to compare to finally being in your arms, breathing in the smell of your perfume and feeling the smoothness of your skin. His lips traced your hairline, leaving soft honeyed kisses around your forehead and down over your eyelids. You smiled into the darkness, tilting your face up in a silent beg for more. He kissed your nose, his eyelashes dusting the tops of your cheeks.

"Love you," you whispered, melting against him and his warm lips. You felt him smile against your cheek.

"Love you more," he whispered back, a kiss following his admiration.

“Love you times a million,” you added, hoping finally to win a battle of affection.

“Love you times infinity,” he replied. You let out a whine at him one-upping you yet again but he just chuckled in fondness, teeth nipping at the plumpness of your cheek until he was seeking out your lips again, to press a dozen more kisses until you inevitably fell under the spell of sleep, dreaming about him and his big brown eyes and warm kisses and how very very lucky you were.

Link to my masterlist :)

#eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson x yn #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x female!reader #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things fic #stranger things imagine #stranger things one shot #stranger things fanfic

28K notes · View notes

lovebugism · 2 months

Note

Shy!reader who has never had a valentine and Steve who pulls out alllll the stops to make up for this—flowers, chocolate, jewelry, candles, a nice dinner, even stuff like a teddy bear and those cheesy kid valentines

happy love day <3 — steve helps his shy gf celebrate her very first valentine's day (shy!reader, established relationship, cw for brief mentions of anxiety, 1k)

Valentine’s Day afternoon is grey and gloomy, but your beaming makes up for it. You’re smiling wide and sparkling with it the second you see Steve waiting for you in the parking lot outside your work. He’d promised to pick you up, yes, but you’re always giddy at the sight of him.

“Hey, babe,” the boy greets with his own grin, crooked and perfectly pink.

He looks all cool, leaning against the driver’s side of his car. Pristine sneakers crossed over one another, sweater sleeves pushed up to his elbows, strands of cinnamon hair draping his forehead — how are you supposed to do anything but melt for him?

“Hi,” you respond in a tinier voice, walking closer to him now. You duck your chin to your chest and peer at him through your lashes, always so painfully shy.

“Did you have a good day?”

“It was alright,” you shrug and plant yourself in front of him. The deep scent of cologne staining his shirt combines with the earthy scent of impending rain. The concoction makes you dizzy. “Kept thinking about seeing you the whole time, though.”

Your confession makes the bridge of his chiseled nose scrunch.

“Well, that makes two of us,” he quips before revealing the bouquet of flowers hidden behind his back. A small thing wrapped in pale pink tissue paper — pastel lavenders and pale baby’s breath — as pretty and delicate as you are.

You light up instantly, eyes glittering as they flit from the bushel of flowers to Steve’s proud grin. “You got me flowers?” you wonder, quiet with disbelief. You take them with a soft, trembling hand.

Steve shrugs. “‘Course I did.”

You bury your nose in the perfumed florals and flash a sheepish look over them. “No boy’s ever gotten me flowers before…”

Steve knows this. He knows you’ve never had a valentine before him — that you’ve never been with anyone the way you’ve been with him. It’s why he’s always so soft and perfectly patient with you.

“‘Cause other boys are stupid,” he says, grinning when it makes you giggle. He takes another step closer to you and smooths his warm palms over your arms. His thumbs rub gently along the outsides of your elbow. “Do you like them?”

“I love them,” you insist, smiling so wide it hurts. “They’re gonna look so pretty in my room.”

“Want me to take you home then? So you can get ready for tonight?”

Your brows pinch at his mischievous tone. “What’s tonight?”

“Dinner. I wanna take you to that fancy, new Italian place in the city.”

“Oh.” Your panic is subtle but still written all over your face. You’re not good at going out — you’re worse at trying new things. Steve’s certainly made you braver, but you’re always a little timid at heart.

Steve knows this and assures with a soft smile, “But we don’t have to if you don’t want. It was just a suggestion.”

“I want to,” you hear yourself say.

His brows raise, visibly shocked. “You do?”

There’s something about the way he looks at you, with a glimmer in his deep brown eyes, that makes you bold. You nod once, firm and foreignly confident. “Yeah.”

Steve tries not to be too obvious about his smiling, but he wears his love for you all over his face without trying. “Then let’s go.”

—————

Rain beats heavy against the window of the candle-lit restaurant, a wild and delicate cadence. The flickering flame paints Steve’s smile golden while his eyes glow a shining amber. He tries to woo you like you’re not wearing the pretty dress he bought you — like you’re not wearing his initial in a pendant dangling between your breasts.

“You’re the Obi-Wan for me,” he jokes before taking a hearty bite of his steak. He chews through the mouthful and gestures with his fork. “You know. Like only one—”

“I get it,” you assure with a sickly sweet smile.

He’s been doing this for a better part of an hour. The Valentine’s Day crowd rushed in, and your waiter got your order wrong, and the whole thing spun you into a tizzy. Steve’s been trying to distract you from your nerves ever since. And it’s worked. Mostly.

“Well, you’re not laughing!” he retorts, playful in his solemnity. “That one was good— you gotta give me some credit.”

“It was,” you assure with a quiet nod. You don’t say it like you mean it, but more like you’re trying to appease him.

“Are you saying you can come up with a better one?” he teases.

You think for a moment, doe eyes flitting across the droplets sliding down the window beside you. Your glossed lips purse all pretty to the side with the weight of your pondering. A smile tugs slow at your lips when you turn back to him. “Obi-Wan Ke-bone-me.”

A laugh sputters from Steve’s mouth. As pure and innocent as sunshine. He nods with a proud, lopsided smile. “You’re right. That was way better.”

“I Obi-Want you tonight,” you follow, giggling still.

“You are on fire tonight, you know that?”

You laugh again, louder this time. Steve beams at the pretty sound and waits until you’ve scooped a too-big bite of pasta in your mouth to compliment you. “You’re so pretty…” he murmurs in a low, honeyed tone. His eyes sparkle with amber, warm and visibly fond.

You stop mid-chew to scowl. You’re too cute to look threatening — especially when you’ve got spare sauce dotted on the corner of your mouth. “Stop…” you scold after you’ve swallowed down the mouthful.

Steve laughs, loud and boyish. “You are!”

“You’re being too nice…” you grouse with your nose scrunched.

“I’m your boyfriend. I’m supposed to be nice.”

“But not this nice,” you insist, smiling despite yourself. You twirl noodles around your fork to busy your fidgeting hand. Your sheepish gaze flits from the half-empty plate to the beautiful boy in front of you. “I think you’re starting to ruin everyone else for me, Stevie…”

His chest sparkles with a warmer feeling. “Well, yeah,” he shrugs. “That was kinda the plan here, babe.”

“Was it?”

“Uh-huh,” he nods and folds his arms over the white-clothed table. He grins wide and leans in close. His cinnamon eyes sparkle with a mixture of adoration and mischief. “You fell right into my trap.”

You smile back at him, so happy that you did.

#published by bug #steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #stranger things imagine #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #st drabbles #stevie drabble

1K notes · View notes

dduane · 6 months

Text

The Young Wizards series turns 40!

...And yes, we're having a sale to celebrate. But that can wait. :)

I'm sitting here looking at the date and considering how amazing it is that, despite the changes in the publishing world, anything can stay in print nonstop for forty years.

But this book has. Here's how it started:

...Well, not how it started. It started with three things:

A newbie YA writer being deeply annoyed with a non-newbie one for (as she thought) stripping their teenage characters of their agency without good reason.

A suddenly-appearing joke involving two terms or concepts that wouldn't normally appear together: the 1950s young-readers' series of careers books with titles that always began So You Want To Be A..., and the word "wizard."

And the idea immediately springing from that juxtaposition. What if there was such a book? Not a careers book, but a book that told you how to be a wizard—maybe some kind of manual? One that would tell you the truth about the magic underlying the universe, and how to get your hands on it... assuming you felt you could promise the things that power would demand of you, and survive the Ordeal that would follow?

Six or seven months after that confluence of events, there was a novel with that joke-line as its title. A month or so after that, the novel was bought. So You Want To Be A Wizard came out as a Fall 1983 book, as you can see from the Locus Magazine ad above (from back when Locus was only a paper zine). The first reviews were encouraging.

And by the middle of 1984, the publishers were asking, "So, what's next?" A question I'm still busy answering.

There's been a lot of water under the wizardly bridge since. In SYWTBAW's case, this involved a couple/few publishers, a surprising number of covers, a fair number of awards here and there; and lots more books. (I always knew there'd be more, but how many more continues to surprise me. Which is a bit funny, considering how much stuff that universe has going on in it.)

So here we are at forty, and looking ahead to The Big Five-Oh with some interest. More books? Absolutely. Young Wizards #11 is in progress at the moment, and YW #12 is in the late concept stages. More covers for So You Want To Be A Wizard? Seems inevitable. A TV series, perhaps? (shrug) Stranger things have happened: we'll keep our fingers (or other manipulatory instrumentalities) crossed. The New Millennium Editions in translation? and in international paperback? Working on that right now. The sky's the limit.*

And meanwhile, to celebrate, just for today we'll have a sale. (Except in the UK. To our British friends, the usual sad apology: the expensive bureaucracy of Brexit has made it impossible for us to sell directly to you any more. Details here, with our apologies.)

As has been mentioned before, changes are afoot at Ebooks Direct, so this kind of sale won't be happening again for the foreseeable future. (In fact I thought we were all done with them already. But the number 40 suggested one last opportunity that wouldn't be recurring, so I thought, "Aah, what the heck? Let's.")

New things first! Today, to mark this occasion, we're introducing the "All The Wizardry" Bundle. This is Ebook Direct's entire inventory of Young Wizards works; the contents of the bundle are listed on its product page. The $29.99 price listed there is for today only, to celebrate SYWTBAW's birthday, and will go up as of 23:59 Hawai'ian time tonight. As always, should you ever lose your ebooks or need to change reading platforms, we'll change your formats as necessary, or replace the books, for free.

Just click here, or on the image below, for the "All The Wizardry" Bundle. (Please ignore the category listings under the "Pay Using..." icons on the product page: they plainly think they're in a different universe. Kind of an occupational hazard around here...)

The other, older kind of sale folks will have seen here is on the "I Want Everything You've Got" Bundle, which is the whole Ebooks Direct store—obviously including all the Young Wizards books as well: more than 2.5 million words in 36 DRM-free ebooks. Just for today, in honor of the birthday book, we're dropping the whole-store price to USD $40.00. This, too, will go away just before midnight Hawai'ian time tonight... and it will never be lower. So if you want everything we've got at that price, don't wait around.

Make sure you use this link or the one associated with the image to get the baked-in discount at checkout. (If it fails to display correctly, use the discount code "40FOR40" in the checkout's "discount code or gift code" field.)

Meanwhile? Onward into the next decade. The new A Day at the Crossings novel unfortunately won't make it out before the end of 2023; other work in-house currently has taken priority. But as for early 2024... stay tuned.

And for those of you who're Young Wizards readers, and have kept this book, and its sequels, alive for pushing half a century?

Thank you, again and always!

*Though actually, it's not, is it? As the proverb has it, "Wizardry doesn't stop at atmosphere's edge..."

#Young Wizards series #Young Wizards meta #So You Want To Be A Wizard #ebooks #Diane Duane

762 notes · View notes

harunovella · 3 months

Text

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ love language (verse iii); s.g.

synopsis: a first date with gojo satoru? maybe... or maybe not... content: canon divergence (still teen!gojo era!), fem!reader, hopeless romantic gojo, best bros satoru and suguru bickering as always, gojo has given you a nickname (and I will now claim reader and gojo as "gojo and his mochi"), unimpressed nanami, not beta read (sorry for any errors!) note: another addition to my gojo anthology series! I'm having sm fun writing these lil things for myself and you all! also... should I start a tag list? lmk in the replies!

"Nanami Kento, Haibara Yu, and," Yaga Masamichi introduced before gesturing in your direction, speaking your name. "You may know the first two already but we've got another sorcerer to the school roster." Continuing his speech towards his three students that sat before him, Suguru and Shoko listened closely, eyeing a brooding Kento and a smiley Yu... while Satoru gazed at you with the biggest heart eyes. He didn't seem to care if he was obvious, after his first interaction with you ever (possibly the best moment of his life), he made it his goal to see you at least once a day. If you were away on missions, or busy during a lecture, he'd find a way to see you... even if it was from afar. "I want you three to mentor them from now on. Each of you teaming up with one of them and spending at least an hour a day to help them boost up their technique—"

"I'll be partnered up with mochi!" Gojo exclaimed, interrupting his teacher with a hand in the air.

"What's the point of raising your hand if you're gonna interrupt anyway?" Geto teased, earning a look from his best friend as he stuck out his tongue.

"Who... is mochi?" Yaga asked, pinching the bridge of his nose, never quite getting used to his white haired student.

Pointing at you and speaking your name, you stood there with wide eyes and a blush. You weren't new to Gojo's behavior, after you first met him (helping you rescue your now kitten off a tree), you had plenty of... interesting interactions. At first, it was a lot to take in, seeing as he was very eccentric and grew really comfortable with you so easily, but after some time, you grew comfortable with it. With him. However, him calling you one of his favorite treats was a first. "She's cute like a mochi—"

"Oh, god..." Shoko shook her head as Suguru raised his eyebrows.

"That's a first," Yu spoke up, covering his mouth as he couldn't help but chuckle.

"No," the shared teacher spoke. "You will not be paired with her—"

"What! Why not?! We're best friends!" Satoru whined as you looked away with a subtle blush.

"Psht, that's harsh, am I now forgotten?" Suguru crossed his arms, leaning back in his seat. "What if I want to team up with mochi?" The young man smirked, earning a scowl from his best friend.

"Never call her that again," Gojo hissed, earning a laugh from Geto.

"Enough, you two, she will be partnered up with Shoko. Knowing you two, you'd end up getting her hurt somehow," earning a gasp from the two boys, you couldn't help but smile, biting your bottom lip at the way they reacted. "I trust Nanami and Haibara will be fine in either of your care."

"Ugh," Gojo groaned.

"I suppose that's fair," Geto shrugged, earning a shove from Gojo in which he shoved back. "Who are we teamed up with, then?"

"Geto, you'll be paired up with Haibara," hearing a faint cheer come from Yu, Kento only sighed, rubbing his forehead. "Which means Gojo, you'll be paired up with Nanami."

"Well, if I can't have my mochi, I guess Nanamin is fine!" Gojo crossed his arms behind his head. "No offense, Haibara! Nanamin is just great company to tease," he grinned, earning an eye roll from the young, blond man.

"Perfect, today will be your first day. Report back here in an hour. Get to know one another's abilities better." At that, Yaga dismissed the class, Shoko rushing up to you and interlocking arms as she pulled you out with her. You couldn't help but look back at Satoru, seeing his grin towards Kento turn into a frown as he looked at you. Sending him a small smile and wave, he waved back, happy that he at least got your attention for the time being.

Weeks then passed after Yaga paired everyone off, though it didn't change how things went—specifically missions—Gojo found another reason to see you. At least, another way to see you. Shoko's RCT required her to be in specific places, so he was well aware of where to find you when he wasn't with his own classmates. Nanami, on the occasion, was dragged along. Forced to watch his senior poorly flirt with you when you (shockingly) didn't seem too bothered by it. Instead, it made you flustered. You seemed to have enjoyed Satoru's attention. Of course, it never lasted long with Ieiri kicking both boys out (or just Gojo if he was the only one there) because she was busy being a good mentor and teaching you.

"I'm bored," Satoru whined as he sat on a bench, eyeing Kento as he trained on the open field. "This pairing up thing isn't all that fun."

"That's because you're not doing your job as my senior," Nanami spoke with a lack of enthusiasm.

"What's there to teach you? You're good as it is," he waved a hand as he sipped at his milk box. "I just wanna see my mochi..."

Sighing, Nanami shook his head before lifting it from his palm as he massaged his temples. A faint smile grew on his lips at the sight of you approaching, it seemed as if Shoko had lead the way before parting to go on her own route. You waved happily as he waved back, only to look at his senior to see that he hadn't noticed you. Grinning, Nanami quietly made his way towards you, his fellow classmate. To anyones shock, the two of you actually grew close. You saw one another like siblings, getting along quite well and actually maintaining interesting conversations. No one would've figured, he was a quiet boy and only really spoke when spoken to, but you brought something out of him. You always found something to speak about. Maybe it was your shared love for baked goods, or the possibility that you weren't annoying like most of the people around him. You were timid, but you were also very kind and social with those you were comfortable with. "How'd it go today?"

"Good, Shoko is very skilled, it's a shame we don't focus much on her technique. RCT is very important, no one does it like her." Smiling up at him as the two of you bumped fists, you then peeked over to Satoru, who was now lying on the bench, completely unaware of your presence. "Is he okay?"

"Being lazy as always," Nanami shrugged, but you slightly frowned. "Don't worry about it."

"What are you two babbling about?!" Gojo called out, not realizing who he had been yelling at.

"I'll catch you later..." the blond said before patting your head, then walking away.

"Hey, I asked you a—" Sitting up and realizing who he had been yelling at, Gojo's eyes widened as he gulped. "Mochi!"

"Hi, Satoru," you greeted with a kind smile, causing him to blush. "Long day?"

Instantly standing up, nearly tripping over his own feet, he shook his head. "No! I was just... taking a break! Y'know... training others can be so tiring," he frowned while slumping forward as you let out a small laugh. "Especially someone as skilled as Nanamin!"

"Right," You nodded. "I hadn't seen you all day. I was thinking..."

Blinking a few times as he watched you approach, Gojo gulped, "yeah?"

"We should get an early dinner—"

"Now?" His eyes widen as he stood straight, earning another laugh from you.

"Mhm, or later, whatever you prefer—"

"Now! Now is good," He nodded, meeting you halfway before he wrapped an arm around your shoulders. "I know the perfect place! Plus, right next door, they sell some delicious mochi..." He grinned as you smiled up at him.

"Is this our first date?" Gojo teased as you sat on a bench, sharing a box of mochi. The dinner was as great as he had promised, a cute little restaurant that Gojo frequented. Satoru tried his best to impress you with his cooking skills, only to burn half of what he ordered. You couldn't help but laugh it off, deciding to cook the rest—in which he praised your skills (and promised to improve his own for the next time). For someone trying to do some impressing, he's constantly teetering between being shy and letting his confidence kick in (even if it was false, trying to win you over).

"Hmm, I was the one who asked to go to dinner," you said, biting into your mochi. "Shouldn't I decide that?"

"Wait!" Gojo lifted his hands, pulling the box of mochi away as you tilted your head. "I took us here to get our dessert," he nudged his head back, towards the stand.

"So..." you trailed.

"So... this could be our first date!" He beamed, earning a look from you as you playfully lifted an eyebrow.

"Maybe."

#harunovella writes;#gojo and his mochi series #gojo #satoru gojo #gojo satoru #satoru gojo x y/n #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo fluff #gojo au #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x you

999 notes · View notes

astroa3h · 3 months

Text

mars through the signs ❤️‍🔥

Mars, that red, raging ball of energy in the sky 🔴, isn’t just about anger 😡 and conflict ⚔️. It’s the engine in our lives, driving our passions, our fights 👊, and those dark, hidden cravings 🖤 we don’t always admit to, even to ourselves.

Aries Mars: Fasten your seatbelt. Mars feels at home here, since it rules Aries. Making you a walking fireball. You're the person who goes after what they want, no holds barred. But here's the twist: this can make you a bit of a bulldozer in life and relationships. Ever felt that thrill from a bit of chaos? That's Aries Mars egging you on, pushing you to start fires just to feel alive. But in the heat of the moment, you might burn bridges you later wish you’d crossed instead.

Taurus Mars: Slow and steady, but when you want something, oh, you’ll get it. The catch? Mars is in detriment here. Meaning your desires come with a string of consequences. You might also find yourself stuck in a loop of wanting things that aren’t good for you, simply because they feel comfortable or fulfill a materialistic void. Ever caught yourself thinking, “Why do I keep doing this?” That’s Taurus Mars, whispering in your ear that change is scary, and comfort zones are there for a reason, even if they're lined with thorns.

Gemini Mars: Ideas, conversations, a quick wit – that’s your jam. But here’s the dark side: an insatiable thirst for newness can lead you to stir the pot, spreading rumors or jumping from one thing (or person) to another, never truly satisfied. It's like you're on a quest for something that always seems just out of reach, leading to a cycle of restless energy that can leave you, and those around you, feeling scattered.

Cancer Mars: Passionate and protective, you fight for your loved ones like a warrior. But that Mars energy? It usually turns inward, becoming moodiness or passive-aggressiveness. Mars feels very uncomfortable here because it’s IN FALL. Ever felt like your emotions are a rollercoaster, swinging from nurturing to spiteful? That’s your Mars in Cancer, a turbulent ocean under a calm surface, sometimes letting those dark waves crash out in unexpected ways.

Leo Mars: A heart of gold, with a flare for the dramatic. You want to be seen, loved and admired. But when the spotlight isn’t on you, Mars can make you a jealous monster, acting out in ways that shock even yourself. Ever done something purely for the drama of it all? That’s Leo Mars, craving attention and sometimes setting the stage on fire just to be the star of the show.

Virgo Mars: Perfectionist much? Mars here drives you to work hard and criticize harder especially yourself. But this can spiral into a dark place where nothing’s ever good enough, leading to anxiety or pointing out flaws in others to deflect from your own insecurities. Ever nitpicked something to death? That’s Virgo Mars, whispering that if you can’t control everything, then everything’s out of control.

Libra Mars: Peace, love, and harmony, right? Well, Mars feels a bit awkward here. Mars is in detriment in Libra. You strive for balance but can become indecisive, avoiding confrontation to the point where resentment builds up. Ever found yourself agreeing just to keep the peace, then seething inside? That’s Libra Mars, wearing a mask of diplomacy while secretly wanting to tip the scales in your favor.

Scorpio Mars: Intense, passionate, with a magnetic allure. You pursue your desires with a focus that can turn obsessive. Ever felt a desire so strong, that it scared you? That’s Scorpio Mars, diving into the depths of desire, where passion can turn into manipulation or power games, revealing the lengths you’ll go to hold onto what, or who, you want.

Sagittarius Mars: Adventure calls, and you’re always chasing the horizon. But that quest for freedom can lead you to run from commitment or responsibilities, leaving a trail of unfinished business. Ever felt trapped by the mundane, itching to escape? That’s Sagittarius Mars, whispering that the grass is always greener somewhere else, even if it means leaping before you look.

Capricorn Mars: Ambition is your middle name. You’re all about goals and success, you feel on top of the world most days because Mars is exalted in Capricorn! However, that drive can turn into obsession, where the end justifies any means. Ever stepped on toes to climb higher, then wondered if it was worth it? That’s Capricorn Mars, urging you to build empires, even if it means isolating yourself on that throne of achievements.

Aquarius Mars: Rebel with a cause, you fight for change and innovation. But sometimes, that fight can become detached, valuing ideals over human connections. Ever pushed for something radical, only to realize you’re standing alone? That’s Aquarius Mars, championing the future but sometimes forgetting that revolutions are fought together, not in isolation.

Pisces Mars: Compassionate and empathetic, you feel the world deeply. But Mars here can lead to escapism, where you avoid confrontation or hard truths through fantasy or self-sabotage. Ever found yourself dreaming of a savior, or using imagination to escape reality? That’s Pisces Mars, swimming in deep waters of desire, where the line between dreams and reality blurs.

xox astro ash ❤️‍🔥

Get your own astrology reading @ astroash.net

TikTok - astroa3h

294 notes · View notes

126dvtn · 2 years

Text

— siiiiiiigh.

summary : the genshin men are totally not jealous.

cw : jealousy ; miscomm ; implicit possessivness

genre : idk bros can't call it fluff ; established relationship

characters : childe, diluc, ayato, scaramouche

childe ; oh, the pain! the agony!

if there's anything you don't want to do, it's making childe jealous. he'll go about his way, strolling the city with you, all while heaving dramatic sighs that catch the attention of passersby. frequent are your attempts to get him to stop. and he does, for the most part- but only when your attention is on him. let's say, a friend of yours comes up to you to say hello; a long time no see. your lover, who was well-behaved up to this point, prepares himself to start his performance.

"childe, i'm telling you- they're just a friend i haven't met in a while!" you pinch the bridge of your nose, embarrassed. the friend in question could only laugh; whether from discomfort or amusement, you'll never know. "my sweetheart is leaving me for someone else, right in front of my eyes! oh, woe is me!" and you swear he'd contemplated falling to his knees on the spot. there're many responses from the strangers around you. some snicker, some scuttle away as fast as they can. you can only stare in horror. finally, after muttering a quick apology to your friend, you grab your wailing lover to flee his stage.

diluc rangvindr ; silent woes.

when diluc is jealous, he doesn't let you know about it; at least not directly. he'll spend hours in his office, only leaving the room to check if you're still there. asking him if anything's wrong would result in a nonchalant "nope"- and then back to his work burrow he goes. it's obvious, however, that something is bothering him, and you're going to get to the bottom of it. a knock on his door wakes him from his dejected trance.

enter you; diluc's antagonist on this dull day. as you lean against his desk across him, he turns ever so slightly away despite the magnetic pull of your concerned eyes. "i know something's up, luc. talk to me." silence greets your ears. so you try again. "diluc, tell me what's wrong- we can work this out together." and his looming eyes meet yours. the sulking man leans back, crossing his arms- his assertion diluted by the pout on his face. it's a full minute before his much anticipated explanation leaves his scowling lips- "why'd you hang out with kaeya without me?"

kamisato ayato ; i would never-!

now, ayato acts like everything is okay. the keyword here is "act", and it's a known fact between you that his acting only peaks when it comes to business. with you, however, his gestures give his jealousy away. all attention is on paperwork. not a glance spared, save for when you call his name and he responds with a restrained "yes, darling?". you best believe he doesn't plan to actually answer you until... well, until you pester him for long enough.

and pester him you do. ayato looks at your hand covering the documents before him with amusement in his eyes. "is this because i went grocery shopping with thoma just now?" your ask is genuine. but lord forbid he gives a straightforward answer, for his reply is an eyebrow raise, coupled with an innocent "oh?". frustrated, you clench your teeth- if he won't be straightforward, then you will. "you're jealous, aren't you?" he continues feigning ignorance. "me, jealous? as if!" he tilts his head, but upon your serious expression, he stops- his visage starkly turning stern. "yes, i am jealous. you do know that you're mine, do you not?"

scaramouche ; that of which is unusual.

acting normal is the last thing scaramouche does when he's jealous. the abnormality here isn't in his expression, no; the irritated twitch in his eyebrow is an everyday occurrence- what with the constant incompetency of his subordinates. it isn't in his words, either. you can almost proudly say that his berating of anything inconvenient is like white noise in the background. what is meant by 'unusual' here is his heightened sense of romance in a random situation.

"um... scaramouche?" your hand travels to your hip when a strange sensation graces it. "what." curt is scaramouche's response; but the sting in it isn't directed to you. "your hand-" "yes, i'm aware that it's on your waist. what about it?" well, you think, at least he's aware of it. you decide not to question it further. but it's a matter of time until you notice that his glare hasn't left a particular area in front of you- and tracing his line of vision leads to a person shifting stiffly in their seat. as if sensing your shared gaze, he finally speaks up. "the way they looked at you pisses me off. shall i show them you're mine?"

#genshin impact x reader #childe x reader #diluc x reader #ayato x reader #scaramouche x reader #genshin x reader

4K notes · View notes

starryevermore · 2 months

Text

the house of snow (7) ✧ coriolanus snow

the house of snow ✧ a royal coryo au | pinterest board| ao3

pairing: king!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

series summary: the king of panem is in search of a bride. and, for reasons you can never understand, coriolanus snow has set his sights on you. it would never be a happy marriage, you’re sure of that. but none of that matters, because when snow decides he wants something, he will do everything in his power to ensure it is his.

chapter summary: snow is pushing his luck with you, but you will not let his attempted slights go by.

word count: 3,004

series warnings?: 18+ MINORS DNI, royal au, regency au, arranged marriage, rivals to lovers, obsessive!coryo, jealous!coryo, protective!coryo, eventual smut, eventual pregnancy, more tags to be added later

chapter warnings?: breaking wedding superstitions, you and snow get in an argument, jealous!coryo, pet name (petal), not proofread

“Oh, you actually look like a bride!” your mother exclaimed as Tigris led you into the sitting room.

“She has always looked like my bride,” Snow said.

When you received word that Tigris had finished making your wedding gown and was ready to start the fitting process, Snow had insisted that it be done at the palace. Another form of control over you, you were sure.

Tigris, who was helping you gather the skirts, reached over and squeezed your hand, careful not to let Snow see. You did not know what had caused Tigris’s and Snow’s relationship to become so strained. You remembered, at the Academy, that Snow and Tigris were quite close. At least, as close as Snow would ever allow a person to be to him. He was very good at keeping people at arm’s length. The only person that he truly wanted in his inner circle, it seemed, was you.

“Is there not some saying about it being bad luck for a groom to see the bridge in her gown before the wedding day?”

Of course, you were fine with a healthy smidge of bad luck. This entire ordeal was doused in it. But it also annoyed Snow any time you tried to deny him something, and that was joy enough for you.

“I won’t come to the final fitting,” Snow said.

“I don’t think you understand how luck works.”

Snow hummed. He rose from his seat on the sofa and crossed over to you. When he reached for your hand, you allowed him to take it. Tigris took a few quick steps away from you. He lifted your joined hands above your head, and you began to twirl. He hummed again.

“I do not need luck when I have a bride as beautiful as you,” he said. To Tigris, he said, “You have outdone yourself this time.”

“Thank you, Coriolanus,” Tigris said.

Snow’s lips curved up into a smirk. “Hmm, see how easy it is? Calling someone by their name?”

“Tigris is your cousin. She is family. It is not inappropriate for her to call you by your name.” You looked back at Tigris. Guilt settled in the pit of your stomach for placing her in the middle of this dispute, but Snow started it. You were smart enough to finish it. “You are an incredibly impatient man, Snow. We are weeks away from the wedding. Are you truly that restless for me to say your name that you cannot wait that long? My, it’s a wonder anyone thought you were disciplined enough to be King.”

Tigris tugged on your skirt, trying to urge you to be silent. You wondered if she had seen Snow when his anger was at its worst. Was that why they were no longer close? Because she had looked into the beast’s eyes and was terrified by what she saw? Perhaps you would be better off holding your tongue. Yet, a part of you liked this challenge. You enjoyed discovering new buttons you could push.

But Snow only laughed, and that alone was infuriating. He looked at his cousin and remarked, “She always keeps me on my toes.”

Tigris’s lips stretched into a thin smile. “Well, I suppose someone must keep you in line.”

“Of which, she is an expert.”

What a terrible expert you must be then. Had you ever kept Snow in line? You had certainly told him off before, made certain he knew how little you wanted this kind of life. But to keep him in line? The thought was laughable. The man was King. The only way he could lose his power was to something so particularly heinous the Electors would be forced to remove him, or if he died.

Snow reached for your dress, his thumb running over the embroidered designs. His smirk slowly became a smile as he traced one of the roses. “Do you think you could add more of these?” he asked Tigris.

“Of course. I’ll go draw up some more designs,” Tigris said.

“Can I take this off now?” you asked. At Snow’s nodding, you turned, Tigris gathering up your skirts so that it would not drag across the floor.

You and Tigris quickly reached the room where she had been helping you dress. It was not far from the drawing room. Irritation had been bubbling up inside you the entire short walk. It drove you insane how much control Snow had over you now. How was this fair? Why did you have to be a little puppet that Snow could pull the strings on?

“He drives me mad,” you said. Perhaps you shouldn’t admit that to his cousin, one of his only family members, but if there was anyone who could understand, you figured it would be Tigris.

“Coriolanus is a maddening sort of person,” Tigris admitted, shutting the door behind you once inside the room.

You could not stop yourself. If you could not understand Snow himself, you might gain some insight from his cousin. “Is that why you are no longer close?”

Tigris looked up at you, her pale eyes turning sad. “He changed. After he came back from his time with the Peacekeepers, I mean. Before, I was hopeful for the kind of man he could become. We…We had hard lives before all of this. Coriolanus would never let anyone know, of course. Too prideful. Too sure that he would get us out of ruin. He was successful in the end, but I think he lost a part of himself.”

Your brows pinched together. “Do you know what happened?”

Tigris shrugged. “No one does. He keeps that part of his life close to his chest. All I know is, when I saw him upon his return, he did not look like little Coryo anymore. He looked like his father.”

You had heard stories of Crassus Snow. He was once a friend of your fathers in their youth, but grown distant as Crassus became colder. It probably had something to do with the peasant uprisings. From your understanding, Crassus was as prideful as Snow. Perhaps more. When he was able to enlist, he quickly rose through the ranks until he was a general. He had the power of the army clenched in his fist. He might have won the war singlehandedly had he not been caught in a rebel trap.

“But…” Tigris paused. She shook her head. “Never mind.”

Well, that just couldn’t do. Tigris couldn’t just begin to put the pieces of Snow’s personality, his motivations, for you, and yank away one of the final pieces.

You reached for her hand. You gave it a gentle squeeze. “Please, tell me. I am going to marry him soon. Do I not deserve to know what I’m getting into?”

“Coriolanus is different now.”

“How do you mean?”

“He’s…kinder with you,” Tigris said as she skillfully undid the fastenings to your gown.

You stifled a snort. “That hardly means anything. A lion might let a gazelle run free, but that does not mean he is any less a beast.”

“You think I’m a beast?”

You fought the urge to jump. One might think you should have become accustomed to Snow’s sudden appearances. Yet, he always managed to catch you off guard. Instead of revealing your shock, you turned your head to where Snow stood in the now opened doorway. “Only a beast would interrupt an unmarried woman as she is undressing.”

Tigris grabbed your hands, pulling you behind the dressing screen. You maintained eye contact with Snow the entire way, careful to make sure he wouldn’t try to follow you. He already kissed you before the wedding. Who was to say he wouldn’t do something more heinous? Snow was very insistent that he could do with you as he pleased.

“Does it matter if you are unmarried when I am going to marry you regardless?”

You decided to not deign his question a response. How many times had you had this conversation with him? Telling him to be respectful of societal expectations, him deciding he knew best. Oh, was this what your life would him would be like? Would he ever give you peace? Maybe if you gave him a few children…Though, you supposed, Snow would want more than a few. He seemed the sort of man that desired a dynasty. A legacy that would be firmly cemented. That could only be done if you played your part to the letter. And if you didn’t…

“Why are you here? Besides to be a Peeping Tom.”

You heard Snow chuckle. “Clever little thing, aren’t you? I came to ask if you would accompany me to the opera tomorrow evening.”

“Quite a late invitation, don’t you think? Perhaps I have a date with a suitor.”

Tigris’s head jerked up as she helped you step out of the wedding gown. She shook her head. Well, too late now.

“You would not.” Oh, you could hear the poison leeching into his tone. This was fun. (At least, for now. You imagined he would make you regret this impropriety later.)

“You seem so convinced that I am going to leave you for Sejanus. Perhaps I have decided to actually give you a reason to be upset.” Tigris helped you into the gown you wore to the palace, trying to put it on you as quickly as possible. You really needed to wait to pick these fights until you were alone. You hated to make her collateral. “It is not very becoming, you know, to be so jealous.”

When you turned to step out from behind the privacy screen, you jumped. Snow was already standing there, his face an amusing shade of red. His usually pale blue eyes were much, much darker. You weren’t sure you could see any blue at all.

“Take it back.”

“You know what the truth is, Snow. Why should I have to keep repeating it? I am your fiancé. We are going to be married by the end of the month. I have promised you to be on my best behavior. That would include, I assume, not leaving you for another. And yet…The simplest of teasing turns you into a mad man. It was all in jest. A joke about a last minute invitation.”

“It was last minute because I was arranging for a private performance for ourselves and our loved ones.”

You blinked.

Oh.

Well, you hadn’t expected that.

“I beg your pardon?”

Snow did not look away from you, never breaking eye contact. He stepped closer. You could feel his breath. Somewhere behind you, you could hear Tigris shuffling around. “You still enjoy the opera, don’t you?”

“How did you know I—?” You shook your head. That was not important at the moment. “Yes. I do, very much so. I…Thank you. That is uncharacteristically kind of you.”

Snow snorted, looking away for a moment as if to collect himself. But when he turned his gaze on you again, his eyes were softer. Back to their usual pale blue. “You cannot even compliment me without an insult.”

“It is so easy to insult you. It is fun to see what will burrow the furthest under your skin.”

He hummed. “For now, let us move on to lighter conversations. Who would you like to invite? So that I may invitations sent out before it is too late for anyone to accept.”

“If the King sends an invitation, anyone would accept.”

“And so too shall the Queen,” Snow said. A fond smile crossed his face. He reached for your hand. His thumb stroked it, in a way that was if your hand brought him comfort. “Who should you like to be there?”

You thought for a moment, considering your options. “My parents, which goes without saying. I have a few cousins that would like to come. The Dovecotes, the Cardews.” You spoke the next name quickly, hoping to hide it in your rush. “The Plinths, naturally. I think we should invite the Ravinstills, as a gesture of good faith. To show the former family mingling with the current.” You hoped that that line would delay Snow’s realization of who you slid into the list of invites. “I don’t want the Creeds there.”

Alas, your efforts were not successful.

“The Creeds will not be there if you do not wish it. Everyone but the Plinth family, however, will be extended invitations.”

“The Plinths will be there. You said I could invite my loved ones.”

“Our loved ones, petal. I said our loved ones. And, let me make this clear, I bear no love for the Plinths at this time.”

“Because of Sejanus?” you asked.

Snow’s jaw ticked. “It does not matter why. I shall not send them any invitation.”

“Then I shall send one myself. I shall personally invite them, and I shall ensure that Sejanus is allowed to sit right next to us. If you are doing this as a proclamation of love, then you should not try to hurt me by excluding someone I care about.”

“And you try to hurt me by including someone who is trying to take you?”

“She is not a prize for you to win, Coriolanus,” Tigris snapped.

You had forgotten she was there. Why was she still there? Anyone else would have run for the hills the second a lover’s quarrel with the King broke out. Of course, she was his cousin. She grew up with him. Tigris probably knew more about Snow’s temper tantrum and their fallout than anyone. Perhaps you should take her presence as a blessing. Perhaps you should worry about what that might mean.

Snow squinted his eyes at Tigris. “Because I have won her. I am only ensuring that no one tries to steal her out from under me.”

“You’re unbelievable,” you scoffed with a roll of your eyes.

His attention snapped back to you. “I will ask you kindly, just this once, to please exclude the Plinth family from your list of invitees. If it means so much to you, I will allow his parents to be invited. Just not him.” He paused. “Please.” It almost sounded like it pained him to utter the word.

“If you do not invite Sejanus, I will,” you repeated.

Snow’s eyes flashed. You were pushing too hard. Probably. But you could not find it in you to care. Snow was already getting everything he wanted. Was it necessary for him to rip every comfort you had away from you?

“Sejanus will not be invited to sit with us,” Snow hissed. “You cannot manipulate me as you did your mother.”

Did Snow really think that you would bend to his will so easily? Had he learned nothing from all of your spats in school? From how often you went toe-to-toe with him the last several weeks? You knew Snow was not an idiot. Far from it, in fact. He was easily the top student at the Academy, clearing over the children of Panem’s best and brightest with seeming ease. The only person who stood behind him was you. Snow should understand that this was not going to be something you back down from.

And to bring your mother into this? You were not sure what she told him. It would have been about your engagement ball, of course. That was the only time you attempted to change who your mother believed she could invite to the ball. But you were sure that whatever she told him only further cemented the idea in his deluded mind that you were helplessly in love with Sejanus Plinth.

“He will! Coriolanus Snow, I will not allow you to slight our friend like this. He might be interested in me. And I might have considered a marriage with him if you were not here and my parents allowed it. And I might have fallen in love with him if we did wed. But you are, and it is insulting that you think so little of me—”

“I do not think little of you,” he interrupted. You nearly rolled your eyes.

“—then, that you are so insecure that you cannot pull your head out of your ass long enough to realize that I will not do anything to harm this relationship, however much of a sham it is, for something that might work out even less than this. My Mama told me you want my loyalty. Well, this is as close as you will ever get to that. Do you understand? I know you value your reputation, and mine, and I know you care about how you, we, are perceived. I may not bend to your every will, but I will not do anything that would reflect poorly on the Crown.”

“I want more than your loyalty.”

“This is all you will get it, and you should be grateful. I could make this a lot more difficult. I could live everything moment to ruin your life. But I am not stupid. I know the security that comes with a title and money. I am grateful that I will want for nothing if I all do is act a dutiful wife. You should be equally grateful for the power and trust of the people that will be granted to you for appearing to be a family man, a good husband, and an eventual good father. This is not a marriage of love, and it never will be. I have accepted the convenience of it all. You should too.”

“I will not invite him.”

Well, there was only one option left to change his mind. If he would not listen to reason, it was time to be irrational.

You took a step closer to him. Snow squeezed your hand, almost in warning, as if he could anticipate what you were about to do.

“You will send the entire Plinth family an invitation, or I shall not come at all. Do you wish for your attempts at romanticism to be in vain?”

#the house of snow: a royal coryo au #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x fem!reader #coriolanus snow x female reader #coriolanus snow x y/n #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow fan fiction #coriolanus snow fanfic #coriolanus snow fan fic #coriolanus snow fic #starrywrites #starryevermore

227 notes · View notes

bachiras-toaster · 6 months

Text

teaching ranpo a lesson : ̗̀➛

RANPO EDOGAWA x f!reader

contents. nsfw dubcon, dom! reader, submissive!ranpo, tit sucking, bratty!ranpo, dry humping, panty fucking, ranpo tastes his own cum, pet names (reader calls ranpo “good boy” and “sweetheart”), reader jerks ranpo off, he eats reader out, praise

wc. 6.2k

a/n. okay but i wish tumblr didn’t remove my italics whenever i paste my fanfictions from another tab?? when is tumblr gonna start showing me the word count so i don’t have to write on other apps? so, just imagine the italics are there.

"Come in!" Ranpo called out when he heard a knocking on his door, and a pleasant surprise came his way when he discovered that it was you peeping your head through the entrance. "Oh, what a nice surprise!"

You shot him a cold glare before making your way into his room, slamming a pile of documents onto his messy table. You disliked Ranpo, so you didn't want to attempt making conversation, but he seemed eager to chat. Ranpo couldn't help but notice the chill in the air, but he brushed it off- as he always did, his eyes glinting with curiosity as he leaned over the table, examining the documents you'd brought.

"This is it?"

"Yep. All twenty cases that Kunikida has assigned to you." You muttered, crossing your arms as you watched him lean against his desk. "You have half an hour to solve them all before we get to close the cases."

"Half an hour, you say?" Ranpo chuckled softly, a glint of amusement in his eyes. "Very well then, let's see what we've got here." He began flipping through the papers, his mind already racing with potential theories and connections.

Watching as he eagerly dove into his responsibility, you turned to leave him to his work. However, before you could even face the door, he grabbed you by the wrist, a little dissapointed that you thought to go so soon.

"You're leaving already?" He frowned, pulling you back. "I was hoping you'd get to see my genius mind at work as I solve all of these mysteries."

"I don't have time to watch you solve these cases, Edogawa. And you know I'd much rather do anything else than stay anyway." You rolled your eyes, scoffing as you snatched your hand away. He scrunched his nose a little, irritated how you'd insist on calling him Edogawa instead of Ranpo.

"Still calling me Edogawa, huh? After we've known each other for so long." He pouted slightly, but his eyes twinkled with amusement. "Well, maybe I should try something else to catch your attention."

"Try all you want. I'm leaving." You let out a displeased snort.

"Alright, let me give this a shot." He interrupted your path towards the door, still holding your gaze. "I'll admit, you're one tough nut to crack... What exactly is it that you don't like about spending time with me?"

You arched a brow. "The master detective asking me a question?" You shrivelled your nose. "Now, I can't tell if that's rhetorical."

"It's not." He grinned, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "So, tell me, what's the matter with me?"

"God, you really are a piece of fucking work." You finally turned back to face him fully, pinching thr bridge of your nose as you prepared yourself for the rant of a lifetime- since he had been so kind as to ask you himself.

"Okay, first of all: You're a narcissist. You think the entire world revolves around you and that your ability is the best. You're lazy and irritating, you leach off of other people, and you refuse to do any work that doesn't interest you. And not only that, but you get kind people like Atsushi and Kenji to go out and run errands for you because you know they're too nice to say no."

His eyes widened at first, but his lips curved in amusement before he shrugged.

"Well, I'll admit to a little bit of narcissism. And maybe a touch of laziness. But I like to say that these kinds of things are what make me me!" He boasted, completely unaffected by your remarks.

Your eye twitched at his unfazement. "It's clear that nobody's ever taught you a lesson up until now, Edogawa. I would've thought that the boss would shape you up to be a decent person, but you're still the same, old egotist."

"Well, I'm sorry if I don't fit into your idea of a 'decent person.' But maybe there's something about me that you haven't quite figured out yet." He leaned closer, his voice lowering. "I don't need to be taught any lessons."

You saw how he attempted to take control of the situation, but you just lifted yourself up and walked over to him, backing him up slightly as you let out through gritted teeth:

"If it were up to me, I wouldn't let you walk around all high and mighty like the boss does" You had leaned so close to him that you were backing him into his bed.

"Oh really?" He challenged, his eyes glinting with mischief. "And what exactly would you do to make me stop, hmm? Torture me? The boss would have you kicked out in no time."

"You see, unlike you, I'm reliant on my strength outside of my ability." You pressed your palm against his chest and pushed him down onto his bed so you stood above him, your eyes glaring down at him. "And even if I wasn't, I wouldn't have the lip to talk back to people stronger than me."

"You're not stronger than me. You might have some physical strength, but your mind is weak. It's obvious that you've never encountered anyone like me before."

"Oh, I've encountered hundreds of narcissists like you in the past. The only issue with you is that I work with you." You flicked the button of his hoodie so it would fall off, leaving him in his button-up, tie, and vest. You pulled on his tie and leaned down so that his face was forced inches from yours. "What's a strong mind if you can't comprehend simple shit like shutting the fuck up?"

"I'm the one who decides what to shut up about." Ranpo grinned, his face inches from yours. His voice betrayed an unexpected level of arousal beneath his bravado. "And I'll never shut up, if that goes against what you want from me."

You loosened your grip around the end of his tie so your finger could hook around the top of it instead, pulling the tie off him.

"You're a brat, you know that?" You lifted your knee up to the side of his bed so that you started to straddle him- An action that caught Ranpo completely off guard because of how completely out-of-character it seemed for you to do, considering your rocky history with the cocky detective. His face flushed red as he glanced up at you, his pupils dilated and his jaw hung open just a little.

"What are you doing—?"

"It's obvious that no one's taught you how to behave before, and since everyone at the agency seems reluctant to, I guess I could fill that role." You glared down at him from the seat on his lap. "You're going to listen to me, and I'm going to turn you into a humble, hardworking, and kind detective."

"You're lying if you think that's possible," Ranpo snorted with a grin, his face flushed with excitement beneath your aggressive stare. Despite his protests, he couldn't help but be intrigued by the fact that you were actually willing to do something like this to the person you hated most.

"It is possible, Edogawa." You hummed. "And I know I can't hurt you physically, so I can torture you in some other ways." Your hands moved down to unzip the fly of his pants.

"Other ways?" Ranpo groaned, his face flushed red as he felt you unzip his pants and touch him through his underwear. "You... you're not actually planning to—?"

"Sh." You ordered. "If you want to ask me any questions, you need to say my name first. And be polite." You fished his erection out of his pants, which only grew harder by the second.

Ranpo's eyes widened, his heart racing in anticipation and fear, but he kept a fidgety smirk on his lips as he attempted to keep his composure.

"Oh, I have no questions. Just enjoying the show."

"Still quite the brat." You commented as you began to stroke the length of his cock, slowly sending shivers through his nervous system.

"Hah... well, aren't you just confident?" Ranpo teased, his breath hitching as he arched into your touch, his cock twitching eagerly. "If you wanted me this badly, you could've just asked. My door is always open."

Suddenly, your movements slowed down immensely, and your thumb swept over the tip of his cock, which caused a jolt. You glared at him with a deadpan stare, but kept stroking at a rate that was starting to get irritatingly slow. Ranpo couldn't help but growl in frustration as you teased him mercilessly, his hands clenching into fists beneath you, his breath hitching uncontrollably.

"Damn, stop it..."

"Stop what?" You asked innocently, swiping the collection of precum that emerged from his slit down to the base of his shaft, making it easier for you to stroke.

"God—" Ranpo's voice cracked as you swiped the precum, his body jerking slightly from the unexpected sensation. "You're not making this easy..."

"I wasn't planning to." You said coldly, leaning down to gather saliva in your mouth before spitting down at his cock to lubricate it more for your hands.

"Fuck..." Ranpo hissed out, his hips jerking upwards involuntarily into your hand, seeking more contact even as he tried to maintain his dominance. "Come on, let's stop playing games now. Stop teasing me..."

"Not with that attitude." You huffed, starting to speed up more at a steadier pace now.

"You... you have no idea what you're doing to me..."

"Oh, I feel like I know exactly what I'm doing... Does it feel good, Edogawa?" You asked in a babyish tone, like some sort of mockery. To that, his face contorted, a mix of humiliation and intense arousal. "Aww, what? Does little Edogawa like being the dominant one?"

"No— I mean... damn it, stop teasing me, already..." Ranpo groaned, his body trembling with the effort to maintain his composure as you teased him relentlessly.

"You're gonna have to ask a lot nicer than that if you want something. Have you no manners?" You went to grab him by the base of his chin by your left hand as your right hand slowly moved up and down his length again.

Ranpo gritted his teeth, his breath coming in quick, ragged moments through his nostrils.

"Stop teasing me... Please." He added, as if he were a a bratty toddler being asked to do something he really didn't want to do.

"That was a good start." You nodded approvingly. "Unfortunately, you can't undo bad manners with one good deed. I'm going to train politeness into your brain by fucking you until you can't take it."

"Don't be stupid. You can't train politeness" He spat back, a mix of fear and excitement coursing through him as you spoke; his hips arched up slightly, offering himself to you once more.

"Me? Stupid? But I can. Look at how you're arching for me right now." Your left hand began to travel down from his neck down to his shirt and vest so you could undo the buttons.

"Stop the attempts now... you're not getting me to submit like this." His heart raced as your hand continued to undo his clothes, revealing more skin.

"What do you mean? It's working." You hummed as you carelessly tossed his vest to the side, leaving him just in his unbuttoned shirt, which revealed his chest that panted uncontrollably.

"I'm not gonna give in so eas—ily." He gulped between his word as the pleasure hit him suddenly. His cock twitched in your hand, leaking pre-cum in anticipation.

"You will. And once we're done, I'm going to be the only member of the detective agency you'll listen to completely. You'll bend over backwards for me and you'll have the upmost respect for me." You stated as a matter of factly. "As for everyone else: You're going to treat them all with the respect and kindness they deserve and you're going to pick up your weight at the Detective Agency."

He seemed amused at your assertiveness, but his heart pounded relentlessly. "No one can control me like that. You're being dumb." He wanted desperately to pull away and give himself a moment to reassert his dominance to take control, but his body betrayed him, responding to your touch and words.

"You will." You pushed him back so his back laid completely on his bed, with you still sat comfortable on his lap. "And we'll start with tabletop manners. If you want something, you say 'please'. When you get it, you say 'thank you'."

"How do you expect me to apply that here?" Ranpo murmured, feeling both humiliated and aroused by your dominance, his body trembled slightly as fet your weight on his thighs.

"Easy. Like this:" You retracted your hand again, leaving him without touch for a moment. Once you had pulled your hand away, he felt a shaky breath leave his lips- Which was much less embarrassing than the whine he had suppressed. "You want me to continue?" You questioned coyly.

The man's jaw just ticked, and he looked back at you with the most unimpressed stare of the century. "Obviously..."

"Ah, ah, ah." You immediately tutted, shaking your head. "That's not what I just taught you. Try again."

You could see Ranpo'a eye twitch at your command, which made it all the more amusing for you when he finally let out a large sigh.

"Yes..." He whispered, hating himself for it but unable to resist. "...Please."

"Loud and clear. I didn't quite get that."

He felt like he was close to giving in, his cock throbbing in anticipation of your touch.

"Yes, I would like you to continue please." He said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Good boy." You teased with a delicate smirk, but one that could barely be seen through your glare.

Upon hearing such a sentence, Ranpo's eyes immediately widened at your praise, and his cock throbbed even more before you even touched it again. He squirmed a bit, his body aching for you to touch him. He knew he was being pathetic, but he couldn't help it. He was hopelessly obsessed with you. His face blushed brightly when you had praised him like that, and it was like such a reward was enough for him.

"I'm no genius like you, but I can understand you love being praised." You hummed sweetly with a stone-cold expression as your hand met his cock again to stroke. "I'm no monster, so I'll praise you when you do something good. That's our deal."

Ranpo gasped softly, his eyes rolling back into his head as your touch sent shivers down his spine. He couldn't believe how much he craved this from you, even though he knew it was wrong. His mind was a mess of desire and submission.

"When you do something wrong, you apologise and say that it won't happen again." You continued reciting the rules.

Ranpo nodded slowly, his eyes still rolling back into his head. "I...I understand." He said, knowing that he was giving in to you entirely. His heart ached as he realized how much he wanted to be owned by you, his hands needing grasped onto your thighs as he yearned to touch you. However, when you felt him on your thighs, you paused again, making him whimper at the lack of sensation.

"I don't remember recall saying that you could touch me. And I also don't remember you asking."

His face turned red.

"S-sorry...I just...I can't help it...I needed to—" He sounded desperate and filthy, his need for you was becoming more and more obvious as time went on. He cleared his throat. "...I'm sorry. It won't happen again." His hands retreated.

"What did I say you should do when you want something?" You queried. Ranpo swallowed hard, his heart racing

"A-Ask...I'm supposed to ask." He trembled, his mind a jumbled mess of desire and submission. He wanted you to take control again, but he also knew that he shouldn't give in to these urges.

"Good. So ask nicely." You offered. You realised how easy it was to get him to listen when your hands were around his cock.

"P-please...can I touch you?" He asked, his voice trembling.

"Touch me where?" Your brown arched.

"Your thighs... Please." He was practically begging now, his submissive side completely exposed.

"Of course. I can even take my tights off if that would make it nicer for you. Do you want that?" Your unoccupied hand went to stroke his chin, his eyes filled with need and desire.

"Y-yes, please...I want you to take your tights off."

You leaned your palms against the bed and hovered over him for a moment so you could pull your tights off your legs. He bit his lower lip nervously, his heart racing in anticipation as he made eye contact with you above him. Having your chest so close to his causes Ranpo's eyes to widen, but he knew that this was all for a greater cause, so he didn't dare to move. Once your tights were discarded of to leave your thighs bare, you sat back on his lap.

"There. Now what do you say?"

Ranpo looked up at you, his eyes glued to your thighs, which were now bare and exposed. His breathing was ragged, and his heart was racing. He could feel himself getting harder, aching for you.

"...Thank you..."

"Well done." You felt Ranpo began to knead at the softness of your skin at the same time you stroked him.

He moaned softly into the touch, his hands moving up and down your thighs, feeling the warmth and softness of your skin beneath his fingertips.

"M-more... I need more." He panted, his voice filled with desire and submission.

"Need more what?"

"More... of this." He said between gasps, his hands moving higher up on your thighs, brushing against the sensitive skin just below your waistline. "I want to touch more of you... Please."

"Like what, Edogawa?" You seemed bored with his lack of clarification.

Ranpo swallowed hard, his heart pounding in anticipation. His gaze flickered down to your hand, still stroking him gently.

"Your... chest." He croaked, his voice barely audible above the sound of his heavy breathing.

"My chest?" Your eyebrows raised a little, amused by his plea. "But do you deserve it?"

"I..." He cleared his throat, his body shivering slightly from the anticipation and excitement. His eyes filled with determination and submission.

"Do you think you deserve my chest?" You asked him directly now, watching as he trembled.

"Yes, I do. Please... I need you. I crave it. Please—" He begged.

"You don't need it. You want it." You corrected him.

"I... Yes, I want it. Please, give me what I want." He groaned, his body arching towards you, seeking out the connection he desired so desperately.

Your lips teased into a smile. "How about this: We do a little exercise to show appreciation to all of your coworkers. If you can say one nice thing about all of them, I'll let you hold my tits."

"A-alright..." He gulped, knowing that this would be difficult for him, as he wasn't the most expressive person when it came to compliments. But the challenge seemed fair- for the reward, anyway. "Umm... I guess Junichiro has a cool ability..."

"Ah- Stop there." You shook your head. "You need to sound more confident about your compliments. None of that 'I guess' shit."

"Y-yes, sorry." He swallowed thickly, trying to find the right words. "...Junichiro's ability is really unique and serves as a perfect defence for our team..." He let out a long, shaky sigh as he could still feel your hands wrapped around his dick. "A-And Dazai's intellect is incredible... It's almost matches mine." The final comment made your movements stop, which caused him to wince.

"No snarky comments either."

"S-sorry... I couldn't help it. I just want to hold you—"

"Not until you give all of your coworkers compliments. Say them. Now." You demanded.

"—'M sorry...! Uh..." He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, trying to think of something nice to say about each person. You listened as he continued to spew out more words of kindness, growing more whiny and helpless as he went on.

"...And Kunikida is great at handling the more technical aspects of investigations. He helps keep the whole team on track and ensures we don't miss anything. I really appreciate his contributions..." He could feel himself growing increasingly desperate as he spoke.

"Well done! Now was that so hard?" Your lips pulled into a kind smile as your palm ran down his cheek, which was flushed with a glowing pink colour.

His cheeks felt hot as he let out a shaky breath, feeling oddly relieved. "T-th-thank you... I-It's wasn't so hard..." he stammered, his heart racing as he anticipated what would happen next.

"Now. I'll hold my end of the bargain. Sit up." You pulled him over so you could read the other end of the bed. You rested your back against his pillows, allowing him to settle himself between your legs. "If you want to get a taste of my tits, you'll need to take off my shirt yourself."

His face was flushed and his hands were shaking, but he leaned over and gently pulled the hem of your shirt up over your chest, exposing your breasts to him. With a simple flick, he had unclasped your bra and discarded it carefully to the side as to not cast it too far away. His breathing was quick and shallow as he stared down at your bare chest, his hands trembling as he tentatively reached out towards your right tit, hesitating. He paused, not sure if he should go further.

"M-May I touch?"

"You may."

With a mix of excitement and nervousness, he gently cupped your breast, his fingers trembling against your warm skin as his thumb swept over your nipple, his fingers exploring every inch of your soft skin. His eyes were locked onto the fat of your chest, and your eyes darkened at how eager he stared at your chest- the wat he fondles your breasts while licking his lips.

"M-May I taste now, please?" he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

"You may."

With a small moan of delight, Ranpo finally gave in to his desires and lowered his head towards your chest. His warm breath fanned across your sensitive nipple as he took it between his lips, sucking softly at first before beginning to tease it with his tongue. The way he dragged his tongue across you made it seem like he was trying to make out with your breast- He was so desperate to have it in his mouth. The delicate touch of his tongue sent butterflies through your stomach, and the small moaning noises emanating from his throat only served to heighten the intense sexual tension in the air.

As he leaned in closer, you could feel how his cock pressed between your thighs and up against your clothed cunt. As he sucked on your tit, he was pushing his tip up aright against you- Almost involuntarily, like he didn't even realise. Feeling the warmth and wetness that spread across his tongue, Ranpo couldn't help but become more assertive. His hands roamed up your body, seeking out your breasts, pinching and rolling the nipples in time with his mouth's movements. His cock pressed against you even more as he leaned forward.

But you held your hand against Ranpo's chest to push him away, and he whimpered as he lost connection with your nipple.

"Are you getting too excited, Ranpo?" You questioned, gesturing down to his leaking cock. "It seems like you're pressing up against me way too much."

His eyes flickered up to meet yours, filled with a mix of desire and defiance. He swallowed hard, his cock twitching against your thigh as he pulled back slightly, but not entirely.

"I... I can't help it.” He said softly, in an almost apologetic tone.

"It's like you're using getting to taste me as an excuse to get yourself off down there too." You let out a deep breath. "I told you, if you want something, you need to ask."

Ranpo felt a blush spread across his cheeks and neck as you called him out, his heart racing as he stared down at his erection. His cock throbbed again, as if eager to fill the void between them.

"I... I want to be inside you, please…”

"Well, after that, I don't think you deserve it." You huffed, to which Ranpo's eyes widened in shock and disappointment; there was still an undeniable spark of determination within them.

"Please! Please, don't do this..."

"How about another exercise then?" You suggested, causing his eyes to light up at the opportunity.

"Yes, another exercise...!" Ranpo breathed out in relief, his mind already racing with potential scenarios. He could feel himself growing even harder against his will. "What would you like me to do?"

"I want you to tell me how smart Dazai is... Without complimenting yourself in the process." You offered, watching how his eye twitched.

He bit his lip, thinking for a moment. There was no way he could take the opportunity to praise someone he knew he was smarter than, but he had to find a way to prove his independence.

"Dazai is... extremely intelligent.”

"Is that it?" You scoffed

"I don't know what the stakes are! I don’t know what I'm getting in return..." He grumbled.

"Good boys don’t ask for something in return. But, if you can compliment Dazai. I'll let you dry hump me and fuck my panties. That's all you get." You offered, but that still seemed enough to satiate his neediness. He seemed to hesitate at first, frustrated at his inability to resist praising Dazai but determined to find a way out.

"He is incredibly intelligent and... cunning." He added, knowing that even with his compliment, it would still be clear who was smarter.

"You can be nicer than that." You told him with another shrivel of your nose.

Feeling the heat between you two intensify, Ranpo let out a small groan of desire. He took a deep breath and tried to ignore the intense throbbing he felt between his own legs. Contrary to popular belief, it probably would kill him to compliment someone else- but the reward was too sweet for him to care.

"Dazai is... Incredibly intelligent- An underrated source of intellect for the team. He may not show it often, but his strategic thinking is one that has saved our asses on numerous occasions.” He said it all with a grumble, not even looking you in the eye- But you were satisfied, nevertheless.

"Well said." You smirked. "Okay. Now you can take off everything you need, except for my panties."

With a mix of excitement and nervousness, Ranpo began to undress you, pulling your skirt off. He crawled further towards you, his eyes fixated on your panties as he reached out to touch them, his tongue wetting his lips as he realised his great achievement..

He steadily pressed his tip against your panties, the precum already leaving a wet patch on the cloth. He couldn't stand that the fact that he couldn't feel your pussy instead, but the panties would have to do. So, with a soft moan, Ranpo began to grind against your underwear, his cock begging for more as he felt your wetness against him, all while his other hand slid up your leg to trace soft circles around your inner thigh. He let out a low moan of pleasure as his hips moved back and forth against your panties with more force, feeling the head of his cock rub against your fabric, on the edge of what he desperately craved.

"F-Fuck..!" He almost instinctively whimpered out. Even you couldn't help but let out soft whines as Ranpo's tip just about bumped your clit through your panties- An action which only caused Ranpo more motivation. Feeling the warmth emanating from your body, Ranpo's determination only intensified. His hand gripped your thigh tighter, digging into your soft skin as he continued his relentless assault on your pant-clad sex.

"Does that feel good, huh?" You asked, panting heavily.

Heaving as he continued to pleasure himself through your panties, Ranpo nodded whilst gnawing on his bottom lip, his eyes narrowed down at the space below between you in concentration.

"I... I can't take it anymore... let me..." He pleaded, pushing against your panties with his cock. "Please-"

"Please what?" You glared at him, narrowing your eyes at his desperately blushing face, which had beads of sweat dripping down his cheeks.

He groaned in frustration, his cock poking at your panties as he panted heavily.

"Please let me have you... I need... I need... Ngh~!" Ranpo stammered swiftly. "Oh, god- Please! I'll do anything—"'

You seemed amused by his begging, all while he was still thrusting his cock against your panties.

"You ‘need me'? What do you mean by that?"

"I... I need you, okay? —Fuck! I want you!" He confessed- backtracking when he heard his own mistake, hips moving faster and harder as he pleaded for release. "I just... can't handle this anymore..."

"You want to cum, is that it?" She chuckled, brushing her finger against his chin.

"Yes, yes, please... I can't hold it much longer..." He whimpered as he continued to grind against your panties, his hips pistoning up and down in desperate need.

“God, please, let me cum… I don’t even care what I have to do this time…”

"My, my, aren't you desperate." You cackled at him, teeth sinking into your lip as you attempted to suppress your own moans at the tension. He hadn’t been bumping at your clit so much anymore, rather sloppily thrusted against your clothed hole instead, but the warmth in the action was enough to cause you to sweat.

"You cum when I say it's okay for you to cum."

Ranpo cried out, his eyes closed as he moved faster, tears threatening to fall from his lids as his hips slammed against your panties, need coiling inside him.

"Fuck, it's too much... I can't—"

"If I let you cum, will you be a good boy tomorrow at the agency?" You asked him simply, seeing how messed up and blushy his face became. "You're gonna be nice to your coworkers and you're not going to be lazy?"

Ranpo panted heavily, his eyes glossed over in lust as he nodded hurriedly.

“Yes, yes of course... just... just let me cum... please..." He pleaded.

"What did I say about speaking more clearly?" You demanded. He inhaled sharply with another thick swallow, gyrating his hips as he pleaded for you.

“I'll be a good boy tomorrow! No more laziness, I'll be so good! Please— I’ll be on my best behaviour, just for you— Fuck!”

You smirked.

"…Okay, you can cum then." You hummed, seeing how his tired eyes lit up with the permission.

With a loud, shuddering whine, Ranpo finally reaches his peak, his fingers digging into your thighs as he found release. With a shaky arch of his own back, his seed spurted between your legs, painting your panties with his essence.

"God, you're so messy." You sighed.

"I'm sorry... I can't help it... you're just too..." He gulped, his eyes roll back, revealing his submission even in his post-orgasmic state.

"Well, since I was so nice and let you cum." You grabbed a fistful of his hair and forced his head down a little so he was forced to look up into your eyes. "It's your turn to make me cum."

Ranpo couldn’t help but blush at your touch when your hand grabbed a bunch of is hairs, his body still trembling from the aftershocks of his orgasm- but finding a new source of pleasure all the same. He whimpered softly, unable to meet your gaze as he was so fixated on your panties and how his own seed coated the fabric.

"C-Can I..?"

"I expect you to." You said darkly. "Eat up. And get a taste of your own mess before you do.”

He was reluctant, but did as you commander him to, tentatively reaching out to lick at your panties, his face flushed with embarrassment and submission. As he tastes his own seed, his face contorted a little at the taste, but his body tingled with pleasure, an unavoidable moan escaping him.

As his tongue dragged across the cloth of your underwear, he latched his teeth onto the edge of your panties, pulling them down slowly. When he had torn them down completely, it revealed your swollen, wet folds to his greedy gaze. The man looked up at you guiltily, his face burning red as his cock twitches in anticipation, leaking more pre-cum as he sees your panties still clinging to your thighs.

"Don't be shy now." You said, assisting him to fully remove your panties as you kicked them off to the side to reveal your glistening cunt. "I thought you wanted to taste me."

He nodded silently, leaning forward to taste you properly. He took a large strip between your legs using his tongue, tasting your sweet nectar as he starts to lap at your folds, his mouth exploring every inch of your wetness.

"That's it..." You shuddered as you felt his tongue inside you, finally feeling your own sense of pleasure. Ranpo’s heart raced with excitement when he sensed your enjoyment and he continued his assault on your sensitive flesh, pushing his face deeper into your folds, seeking to please you even more.

"F-Fuck... God, you use your tongue so well." You chuckle softly through your gentle moans. "See what happens when you use that mouth for better things rather than pissing people off?"

He hummed in agreement, his tongue continuing to wedge itself between your folds. With a groan, he licked harder, drawing your walls upwards, seeking to reach your throbbing center.

"You're gonna eat me out until I cum, aren't you sweetheart?" You grin, hands finding his way to his hair to run your fingers through the strands before stopping to grab a handful of it again.

"Mhm..." He moaned, his fingers twitching with desire. His tongue darted out, swirling around your clit, making you shudder as he brought you closer and closer to the edge. You had treated him so well that night, and he fully intended to return the favour.

—

The next day at the agency, Ranpo kept his side of the promise. For the first time— Possibly ever, Ranpo wasn't glued to his office desk anymore shoving treats down his mouth, instead, he was walking around and offering his assistance to anybody who looked like they needed it. It amused you to see him frantically searching for work to do while you were working on your own thing at your desk, pretending not to see his efforts, but you were glad that your intimate act with him didn’t go to waste.

"Would you look at that! I've never seen Ranpo so diligent!" Dazai commented to Kunikida, who was as equally surprised by the sight of the rare happening.

During the mesmerising scene, Kenji had happened to pass by Ranpo, which made him feel like he had been granted a glorious opportunity by the gods above. His eyes lighting up, the taller, brunette stopped Kenji in his tracks- Whom of which had been two boxes of files, tapping him on his shoulder with an awkward smile.

"Hey, Kenji, do you need help carrying that?" Ranpo queried with a hopeful gaze, to which Kenji stared blankly, blinking a few times.

"...It's a little heavy." He said softly with gentle beamed smile, trying not to offend him.

"Don't worry about it!" Ranpo reassured him, holding out his arms. "Where do you need me to take it?"

Upon seeing his eagerness, Kenji's eyes sparkled exponentially and he went to drop the boxes in his grasp.

"To the boss's office!"

Ranpo immediately felt like the weight was going to crush his arms when the heavy boxes had been dropped onto them. He struggled for a moment to hold them up, but eventually found his method to keep himself standing without feeling like his arms were going to break. After the wave of accomplishment had washed over him, he frantically looked over to you to see if you had been watching him with a hopeful smile— Which you had, of course, but your head was tilted down as to not let him know that you had.

"Maybe he's finally learnt that he has responsibilities at this agency." Kunikida suggested, staring as Ranpo uncomfortably waddled out of the office, the boxes threatening to break his fingers.

"I wonder what could've made him suddenly realise that though, considering he had never lifted a finger to help before." Dazai's eyes narrowed.

#bungo stray dogs x you #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs ranpo #bungou stray dogs dazai #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs smut #ranpo edogawa smut #ranpo edogawa x reader #ranpo edogawa #ranpo edogawa x reader smut #ranpo x reader smut #ranpo x reader #bsd ranpo

342 notes · View notes

ssinboo · 6 months

Text

Couture Kisses

summary: You've been in love with your best friend, Kim Seungmin since forever!

in reply to this lovely ask!

pairing: Fashion student!Kim Seungmin x Fashion student!F!Reader

word count: 4k (25~ minute read)

warnings: weight insecurities and mentions of body image issues that aren't resolved, author has very limited knowledge of fashion, making out, oral (f rec.), unprotected sex

a/n: This ask has been marinating in my inbox since june ... OTL I apologise it takes me absolutely forever to write TT I couldn't bring myself to write him as exactly asked, so this is very vanilla!

An entire collection by the end of winter.

That’s your final project for fashion school.

Needless to say, you were panicking, hard.

Not that you didn’t have plenty of sketches to pick and choose from, but it being your final assignment it had to be special. Twelve pieces, all able to stand on their own and at least one that you would model on your own and steal the show.

Even though you tried to shimmy your way from the spotlight and just stand backstage, your professor was very insistent on you modelling at least one of your pieces.

You absolutely dreaded the stage and the attention.

Shy by nature, is how you were described by those close to you. And growing up larger than everyone around you took a toll on your self-esteem.

Your sister was more than up for the modelling, she loved you and of course, loved all your work. Always your number 2 supporter.

Who was number 1? Oh, well, none other than Mr. Kim Seungmin.

Unfairly handsome, Seungmin stood at a gorgeous 178cm with jet black hair and flowy bangs dyed a platinum blond. He had the most gorgeous almond eyes, which would adorably cross anytime he was a bit too tired. His nose was button shaped and a deep bridge that only accentuated his gorgeous eyes and the faintest little bump along its length. And his lips, gosh, his lips, you could go on and on about his perfectly shaped cupid’s bow or his exquisitely plump lower lip. (which only made his lip ring phase harder on your mental sanity).

Not that you had a crush on your best friend or anything, of course not!

On other news, Seungmin was a lot less worried about this final assignment, given that you actually agree to his maniacal request: model for his collection. All because you had asked him to model yours.

There were models available, of course, but you could also bring your own and being able to take multiple measures, and do as many fittings as you wished helped ease your anxiety.

“Come on, don’t be such a meanie!” You whine as he once again insists on this deranged idea.

“It’s only fair, we model for each other. Also, I introduced you to my friends so you could use them as your guinea pigs, you owe me one.”

“That’s… different,” You shrug. You were grateful for his friends’ willingness to help and the sheer quantity of them was a perk. But you would not get up on that runaway, no way!

“No, it’s not.”

“You know it is! You’re gorgeous… And I–”

“You what?” He interrupts with a thorny rasp.

You jump at his sudden jab, suddenly self-conscious about your self-consciousness.

“You know… I’m gonna make your clothes look ugly.”

Seungmin runs his tongue along his metal-clad teeth and slaps his hand over the cafeteria table.

“You’re gonna walk for me or I won’t do it for you. Don’t think of contacting me until you’re ready to give me the ultimatum.”

Harsh, yes. But he cared about you, more than he cared about anyone or anything, ever. You were the most gorgeous, caring, funny, intelligent, charismatic and talented person and his eyes. And everytime you put yourself down, it took every inch of restraint in his body to not grab your shoulders and yell just how much he loved you.

Although, he regretted his words as soon as they left his lips. As soon as the anger subsided, he was ready to call you and take it all back. But you came running to your shared apartment, ready to apologise and agree.

He was your bestest friend in the whole universe, you would do anything for Kim Seungmin. And it was about time you started doing it.

And all was forgotten by the time sketchbooks were splattered across the dining table and you exchanged ideas back and forth over chinese takeout.

You were crazy about holidays and especially valentine’s day. It was only fair for your final assignment to reflect that. You had plenty of lovely sketches that were fitting for your early february deadline. But you racked your brain over the clothes that would fit Seungmin.

Just what could possibly do his indescribable beauty justice? Any of your designs felt unbecoming of him.

It’s when you’re splayed out on your sofa during your weekly movie night, watching Pride & Prejudice for the thousandth time over, that you get an idea.

An idea so great you’re jumping and throwing the blanket over your half-asleep best friend.

Seungmin, the poor fella, thinks something might’ve happened. So he waddles into your bedroom, blanket wrapped around his shoulders.

You’re scrambling around for paper and pencils.

“What’s up?” He asks, voice drenched in sleep. Had you not been entranced by your sudden burst of imagination, you certainly would’ve melted at just how adorable he looked.

“I’ve got your outfit,” is all the context you give him.

“What?” He leans against the doorframe, fighting against his sleepy eyelids.

“Mr. Darcy! How could I have not thought of it before! It was right underneath my nose!” You’re gesturing and your thoughts run all over the place, but you’ve got the brightest smile across your lips.

And he stands there, watching you try and bring your vision to life, mumbles and grumbles coming out every now and then. Though his love-stricken smile is invisible to you.

Fabric shopping was always fun, especially when your best-friend tagged along. Seungmin had been keeping his inspiration a secret so far, despite your attempts, he was good at being quiet when he wished so.

You looked at different textures and colours all day, leaving behind a good chunk of your savings at the chain store. But all for a good cause.

There was plenty of cheaper fabric for mockups at home, so that’s where you started out. Since you didn’t want to bother Seungmin, his fit should be the last one – also, part of you was terrified of his look and how intricate it would be.

You were still in the warm-toned shades of autumn by the time you had your collection ready for next february.

All you needed were his measurements to get started on your Mr Darcy modern valentine’s day sort of look. It sounded strange to say out-loud, but the sketches looked great.

Seungmin comes out of his room in a tight tank-top and loose boxer shorts and you gulp, tightening your fingers around your measuring tape, this would be the longest day of your life.

Here he stands, in the middle of your room, surrounded by the fabrics you insisted he picked, with his arms stretched out and his chest available to you.

Starting off easy, you run the tape from his shoulder to his wrists, fingernails lightly grazing his bare skin. His eyes don’t leave yours for a single second, especially when you’re standing so absurdly close.

And when you have to basically almost wrap your arms around his chest to reach behind for the tape, he feels the odd urge to hug you and not let go.

You hugged often, of course, you did. You were best friends.

However, standing in your strawberry lotion scented bedroom in summer pjs, feeling weirdly warm for the current temperature outside, Seungmin feels his skin burn every time your fingers meet his body.

Seungmin is so beautifully proportionate, you think. Studying his slender arms and long legs, his torso, just perfectly built. In every way, he was destined to be the main character of a timeless romance.

This is way past your normal antics of going all obsessed with the bodies that would fit your designs. Thinking about making the outfit Seungmin would wear for all to see.

It’s like he would carry a piece of you.

You’re chewing at your lower lip, revising all numbers and doing the maths in your head to gauge out how much of each fabric you’ve got left and how much you’ll need.

“You got it?” He asks, startling you away from your thoughts.

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Great. Your turn now,” He smiles, stretching out his hand for your sparkly, strawberry-scented pen and notepad.

So came the dreaded day he would take your measurements.

You haven’t done your own sizing in over a year now, an irrational fear of the tape finds you each time you think about it.

And part of you is totally ready to call the whole thing off and just beg Seungmin to please find someone else.

But he gives you no window of space to talk, pushing you to stand in the middle of the room and pulling your arms in the right position.

And you feel extremely exposed.

You’re so entangled in your spiral of self-hatred, you completely miss the sweat that threatens to pool at his forehead, or how often he’s gulped in the past five minutes.

Though he constantly craved close proximity to you, this time might be enough to kill him.

Your chest has always been the bane of his existence. Squishy, soft skin always pressing up against body whenever you hugged him happily, practically pouring out of any piece of clothing with a tighter fit. Rubbing around his arm when you’re walking hand-in-hand at the shopping centre.

And he feels horrid for being such a pervert, he does.

You’re his loving, kind, best-friend and he’s always ogling your body with his dirty male mind.

God, your waist. Abundant flesh folded over in adorable rolls, so perfectly shaped for his hands and his hands only. He imagined himself grabbing handfuls of your ass, running his hands all over your hips and waist.

Your thighs, so full and creamy; in particular when you wear the one summer dress your sister gave you on your last birthday. That dress drives him absolutely crazy. Floral linen with a wrap-around layered cut that leaves his mind running around thoughts of undoing those flimsy ties and finding that gorgeous body you’re so intent on hiding.

“Minnie?” You ask, a bucket of hot water over his flames.

Your voice is so soft, dripping in affection as always.

“Have you got it?”

He gulps, immediately shying away from your body lest he be corrupted by any evil thoughts.

“Y-Yeah.”

“Are you alright?”

Seungmin nods.

“It’s bad isn’t it?” You scratch at your nape, eyes avoiding his.

“Wha- What?”

“My measurements,” You shrug.

“No– No. Absolutely not, you’re fine, you’re perfect. It’s just– I’ve been rethinking my collection lately– Nothing to do with you,” He loses track of his words, rambling on and on while your love-stricken heart hangs hopelessly onto the word ‘perfect’.

“Well,” You fidget with the hem of your pyjama shirt, eyes slowly prodding at his reaction, “Anything I can help with?”

Seungmin finally smiles and your heart blooms in warmth, “Not yet, but there will be.”

And so on, your days are consumed with the mindless routine of class and working on your project.

Work went great with Seungmin’s friends, they were all so friendly and outgoing, you felt right at home. And everything looked perfect. Just missing one final look.

Though Seungmin was more than willing to do as many fittings as you’d like, you both scheduled a double try-on day. Which would also be the first time you’d see his design.

You keep fidgeting with your fingers, anxiety gnawing at your brain with every passing second. He’d locked himself in his room for ‘last-minute corrections’ and you were almost going crazy.

An hour later, Seungmin finally emerges from his room, a plastic cover draped over his design, keeping you from peeking.

“So?!” You inquire, he keeps avoiding your eyes, for some reason.

“I’m ready,” He nods and so do you.

“Rock, paper, scissors, loser goes first?” You ask.

“Please,” he nods fervently and you smile nervously.

So you stand before him.

He calls it out. Rock. Paper. Scissors. Shoot.

You put out Scissors.

And he put out Rock.

You go first.

Shit.

Seungmin seems all too relieved, still psyching himself up to show his design.

You pull your creation from the plastic covering and hand it to him. A creamy white button-up with flowy sleeves, a velvet crimson coat with embroidered details following its length and black leather trousers in a high-waisted cut.

“Good luck, I guess,” You joke and he laughs.

“No need for it. It’s gonna be the best,"he says.

Though when he finds himself changing into the set in the privacy of his bedroom, Seungmin is astonished, admiring every single detail you’ve poured into it. His fingers caress the handmade lacy collar, feeling the hours spent in every thread and stitch.

And it fits his body perfectly; white linen drapes across his chest, hugging his pecs but flowing down freely down his torso.

“You ready?” He calls out and you gnaw at your fingers in anxiety.

“Yeah.”

Seungmin pads through the hallway, eyes scanning the living room until they meet yours. You smile, eyes glistening in adoration, taking in this moment as if it would end too soon.

“Wow.”

He smiles, “I know, it’s amazing… You’re amazing.”

“No– It’s– You look so… Handsome,” It wasn’t uncommon for you to compliment each other, but this once felt too intimate.

Seungmin blushes, scratching at his neck.

“So… My turn, I guess?”

“Oh, yeah,” Oh, how you dreaded this moment, not that you doubted his abilities but with your luck, you’d ruin his hard work with your subpar looks.

Seungmin hands you an opaque plastic cover, he notices your hesitation, but gives up on saying anything lest you actually give up.

He plops onto the sofa as you leave for your room, chewing on his own lips. He hoped this dress could convey everything he felt for you, even if a little bit.

It takes you excruciating 5 minutes to finally come back into the living room.

Seungmin stands up, letting the cushion he’d held fall to the ground and match his jaw.

His work, – an asymmetrical white dress with a poofy skirt and a translucent layer of tulle decorated with snowflake shaped beads over its length – hugs your body perfectly.

You look absolutely ethereal standing before him with a shy smile, wearing the clothes he made with his own hands, every stitch done with thoughts of you.

“You’re breathtaking,”

You laugh quietly, “The dress is doing most of the work. It’s beautiful, Minnie, I don’t have any words–”

“No– You’re… Gorgeous.”

He’s serious, dead serious.

And you’re stuck in a staring contest, standing five feet apart in your living room, time comes to a standstill.

“You’re the most beautiful woman in the world.”

“You’re lying.”

“I wouldn't– Not to you.”

You study his expression, searching for any, absolutely any sign of jest, but he’s serious. He truly thinks you’re… pretty?

“You think I’m pretty?”

“Yes,” Seungmin takes a step forward, “The prettiest.”

“Since when?”

“Since forever…”

You want to believe his words, Gosh, you do. But it’s hard, it’s hard to believe anyone would look at you and think anything even remotely positive.

“Minnie– Seungmin, please,” You breathe out, “Please, tell me you’re not joking about this– I won’t forgive you.”

“Every day and night I think of you and I can’t take my mind off how you manage to steal my breath away every damn time.”

Your heart skips a beat or ten; he steps forward and you wish to close the space between you for once but your body doesn’t move.

You can’t take this, not if he isn’t serious, no. You would never recover from something like this.

“Say something, please,” He pleads.

“I think I’m in love with you.”

Seungmin freezes.

And you curse at yourself, there, you’ve done it now. You’ve gone ahead and ruined everything.

But he lets out a sigh of relief and his hands find your jaw, pulling you toward his body at once.

Your fingers run up the soft fabric, gripping at the freshly overlocked edges, his pale skin teasingly on display through a tiny heart-shaped window which would later be adorned with blood-red rhinestones, though some had already been placed.

And your breath gets caught on your throat, threatened with the lull of proximity and his minty breath fanning on your lips. Nails digging into the velvet fabric of the overcoat, your eyes are stuck to his enticing chest.

He smells of baby powder, chalk, and of the blueberry-scented shampoo you bought on sale last month. And you let his perfume lure your stupid heart into an erratic rhythm. Let the heat of his body find your own, setting your cheeks on fire.

When your lips meet his, it’s as if a current runs through your bloodstream, awakening every cell and fibre in your body to the taste of the man you love.

“I’ve waited for this for forever, it seems–” He whispers against your kiss-reddened lips.

His fingers are tangled in your hair and his lips crash against yours once again. He’s forceful, desperate. All-consuming and ravenous.

You can only melt into his touch and seep into his body, hoping to become one and never be apart ever again. Oh no, you couldn’t stand another day away from his gorgeous lips now you’ve had a taste.

You wrap your arms around his neck and let him guide you, taking the smallest of steps back until your legs meet the sofa and you both fall down with a loud ‘poof’.

His hands cup your cheeks, tongue ravishing your mouth with relentless want, he drinks every moan and sigh before it even makes it past your lips. You’ve barely made out for five minutes and you can feel the volume of his hard-on poking at your hip bone.

Oh, it’s an incomparable rush of dopamine to affect someone so much.

Seungmin kisses at your lips, cheeks and jaw, nipping and sucking at your skin until he leaves behind his mark; his claim on you. His teeth graze along your skin, erupting goosebumps over its path.

“Don’t– Don’t want to ruin your dress–” You sigh, willing yourself to push him away.

He smiles against your collarbones.

“Wanna take it off, then?”

An indescribable heat flushes your body.

“Seungmin!!!” You yell.

“What? Take it off…” His hand reaches for the hem of the dress, toying with the soft tulle.

“No-!”

“Let me see your body, hm?” He hums, puppy-eyed and all.

“It’s–” You look away. You could barely fathom the idea of standing naked before anyone let alone the guy you’ve loved for ages.

Seungmin licks his lips, “Look, I’ve– I’ve been dreaming of this– You, under me…” His fingers ghost against your bare thigh. “I– I… You have no idea what you do to me, now, do you?”

You shake your head.

He reaches for your hand and then places it above the leather-clad bulge that rages in his trousers. As soon as your hand barely grazes the fabric, Seungmin gulps.

You’re overtaken with a desire to pleasure him.

You’re rid of the dress, – even with your pleas to treasure it, Seungmin throws it aside, eager to feel you bare.

You attempt to cover your modesty, but he solves that issue by pinning your hands atop your head. As he truly sees your body for the first time, you watch his eyes glisten in true adoration, a dark hint of lust behind them. Your skin burns hot under his attention.

“You’ll be the death of me, y’know…” He jokes, but there’s a hint of truth, his heart pounds against his ribcage.

He peppers kisses along your chest, tongue licking at your skin, watching you squirm and sigh at his every touch, how your nipples stand hardened and kiss-bitten. Trailing down your stomach, he makes sure to nip at the abundant flesh, to marvel at how plump and absolutely perfect you are.

Oh, and he mumbles at every move just how ethereal you are.

His lips graze your inner thighs, licking at your skin but not where you need him the most. Every time he breathes against your aching pussy, you practically jump.

Though he planned to tease you endlessly, Seungmin can barely hold back his wish to do nothing but lose himself between your gorgeous thighs.

He licks a long, torturous strip along your core.

You squeal.

But despite your squealing and squirming, Seungmin’s got a strong grip on your hips and he is making sure your pussy is all his for the tasting. And he finds it, he might be the one most affected, after all.

You taste absolutely divine, liquid euphoria flowing through his lips and eager tongue. He eats you out like the world is ending; as if this is all a dream and he will wake up alone and hot in his bedroom.

And you moan his name with each syllable sounding more tempting than the last.

Only once you come on his tongue, does he rest; but not for long, no.

If it were up to him, he would get a couple orgasms out of you, lay in between your legs for hours.

Seungmin leans back on his knees, admiring just how absolutely fucked-out you look with messy hair and heaving chest. And you look up at him with glossy, swollen lips and teary eyes. He can’t resist you, after all.

He kisses you again and again, fingers fidgeting with his trousers; Goddammit, why didn’t you put a zipper in this finger? Historical accuracy be damned when you want to fuck someone!

After his trousers are off, you urge him to lose the shirt as well and he complies. Seungmin is gorgeous; milky, unblemished skin with a slender build.

“Look at you, so perfect– So eager– Just for me–” He breathes out, tip teasingly rubbing along your dripping core.

You mewl, hands reaching out for him.

“Come on, baby, tell me– Tell me what you want.”

“I– I want you… I want you to fuck me.”

He curses a thousand bad words under his breath.

When he finally slips it in, his fingers dig into your love handles, leaving behind tiny crescent moon shaped marks. You arch into him and he holds you firmly, arms wrapped around your body.

He manoeuvres your legs over his thighs for a better angle and you feel him reach the deepest parts of your body. And you sigh, letting yourself feel full, stretched beyond bliss.

It’s only when he notices with a devilish smirk how you’ve started to grind against his hips that he starts to move.

You are bathed in pleasure and lust.

His hands run up and down your leg, worshipping your thighs and your stomach that jiggles with every powerful thrust of his hips. Oh, and your tits, how hypnotic is it that they bounce up and down?

You moan his name over and over, mind hazy with pleasure and he lavishes in that feeling. Of rendering you cockdrunk, providing you with inconceivable bliss.

Seungmin pounds into you relentlessly, skin slapping sounds an obscene symphony that fills your ears, only accompanied by the breathy moans; Oh, the sweetest of sounds were the way he sang your name.

You clench around him, greedy and lovestruck.

“Minnie– I’m gonna–”

“Shit– Come on, baby. Let go–” He groans out, hand reaching to rub your clit.

Your second orgasm crashes into your body with an unstoppable explosion. You squirm and Seungmin leans forward to capture your lips in kiss, to drink your most euphoric moans.

Hands wrapped around his back, you pull him flush to your heaving chest, letting the pleasure find your fuzzy brain.

When he finally reaches his own climax, he pulls out, painting your skin with translucent ropes of white. Draping over your stomach pale strings of his seed, a claim.

You’re smiling when his eyes meet yours and he is filled with immense relief; That’s you’re happy and well.

He lays by your side, pulling you on top of him with a smile that mirrors yours.

You lay on his chest, drawing figure eights along his soft skin to the stable sound of his heartbeat. Your own heart is draped in joy beyond comprehension.

“I think the clothes look great,” Seungmin jokes.

You laugh. “Yeah, I think they do.”

367 notes · View notes

tender-rosiey · 2 years

Text

HE MAKES YOU SCARED - pt 2

⤷ includes: gojo, geto; nanami, sukuna

— warnings: mentions of blood, gore and death

ᴀ/ɴ: it’s angst time, buckle up <3 hurt no comfort, we cry like men also f!reader in sukuna’s, the rest are gn!reader

GOJO SATORU:

you wouldn’t call yourself needy, like really. you, like any normal lover, just wanted to spend some time with your husband. you are also quite understanding of his situation, and a proof of that is the last time you guy had an actual date was a good two month ago.

however, it was really bothering you now and you really missed him.

today, he is back home, but who knows for how long so you approach him, “‘toru?” and he hums, a little irritated you sense, but continue nonetheless, “can I ask you something?” satoru lifts his blindfold and you can see the strain in the corner of his eyes, as he raises an eyebrow in inquiry, “yeah?”

“um…are you free to go on a date like soon?”

he closes his eyes, inhaling deeply then stands up, “y/n,” and you nod, “listen, I know we don’t spend time together, but can’t you just look at things from my point of view?”

“what?” you say in disbelief while he continues running a hand through his hair, his blindfold long forgotten on the floor.

“I am a sorcerer; I have duties. I get that your job gives you more free space, but I am fucking busy and even the days I am not required for a job, I am left tired and irritated,” and he looks at you dead in the eye, “so you should at least be more considerate and stop your nagging.”

he walks to the kitchen to make himself a cup of coffee and he hears you mutter, “you asshole…”

gojo turns to you, “excuse me?”

“you asshole, you fucking asshole!” you yell and your eyes are now filled with tears, tears you’re so desperately trying to hold back, “have you gotten so in your head that you can’t see what I am doing for you?” you scream and he stares at you in disbelief.

“oh really? I am the asshole now?” he eggs you on and you reply just as aggressive.

“well, yes obviously since you seem so good at dismissing everything I have done and belittling my work, you fucking ass!”

he walks to you, cup in hand, and aura you’re so unfamiliar with that it frightens you a little, “if you’re gonna keep bitching,” and his hand is raised up high, “THEN YOU SHOULD AT LEAST DO SOMETHING RIGHT FIRST!” and the mug meets the floor in a loud crash, a dirty carpet, and glass everywhere.

the only sound after that is gojo’s heavy breaths and your choked sobs.

slowly, he comes to his senses and his eyes are far clearer, no more anger and rage behind them, “y/n, wait I—“ and he reaches out for you, only for you to slap his hand away.

“DON’T GET NEAR ME!” you yell, your chest shaking with so much fear and pain before getting out of the mansion and heading to shoko’s as she is now the only source of comfort for you.

gojo’s back is now against the wall as he curses, “god damn it!”

NANAMI KENTO:

your husband is a rather calm and collected person in general, so it was quite rare getting to see him angry.

that’s one of the reasons you were caught really off guard when it happened today.

“y/n dear, please, all I am asking is for you is to be a bit more responsible and do the chores like I do.”

you cross your arms, “well, breaking news, not everyone is like you.”

he sighs, “no need to give me any sass; I am merely asking you for some sense.”

“oh really?” you quirk an eyebrow, “now, all I do is nonsense and I am a completely irresponsible, and useless adult; oh maybe even a child! right?!”

nanami pinches the bridge of his nose, “y/n, I don’t want to argue,” his eyes meet yours for a moment making you flinch lightly, “I am not in the mood. you can drop it now.”

“you can’t just start a conversation then end it half-way, kento!”

and for the first time ever, you hear your husband raise his voice at you, “WELL A CONVERSATION WITH YOU ALWAYS LEADS TO YELLING AND PURE ANNOYANCE!” he gives his back to you, “maybe if you kept it down, then you would’ve been able to notice that,” his voice dangerously low.

his hand gets nearer to you, and you can’t help the arms that come to shield you from what would’ve come. you stay like that for a bit before untangling them and your gaze lands on your husband.

he’s shocked and wounded; he’s disappointed at himself for letting you feel this way, but did you really not trust him to the point you had to shield yourself from him? he was only going to get his cup of coffee so he can go cool down and later come to talk about the issue in a more civilized manner.

but now, all he could think about is the fear in your eyes, you finally open your mouth, a call for of his name leaves it, “kento, I didn’t mean—“

“excuse me,” he says, not adding any other word before leaving the house, leaving you alone to think and think about what happened. will this cause your gem of a relationship to crack? will he leave? is he done?

GETO SUGURU:

you are already aware of what your husband does, at least the fact that he makes non-sorcerers worship him as he steals the curses on them for himself to make an army.

even with that though, he never let you see what he actually does so you don’t get uncomfortable, and you understand.

though you didn’t expect to come back from work, a job in a nearby bakery since you quit jujustu, to heart-wrenching screams coming from one of the rooms in the house. you take off your shoes, to soften your steps, and slowly making your way to the door of said room.

it was a little open, which explained why the screams were heard, but still, how can it be so loud? just what is happening to the person?

you finally decide to peak, and are met with a sight that will possibly scar you for life.

in all your life, even when you were a sorcerer, you have never seen anything as bloody and scarring as what you are seeing: limbs separated, being feasted on by wild and barbaric beasts and curses, but you don’t know if the scenery really is the problem or the fact that your husband, who’s as gentle as a petal with you, is the the one doing that.

all of that with a smirk on his face, “damn monkeys; you’re the lowest form of life.”

your feet move without thinking, not caring anymore about making a sound or not, your instincts are telling you to run, run, run.

so you do until your legs give out when you’re right in front of the entrance of your “home”, heavy breaths escape you and you hear a tender voice, “y/n, honey, what’s wrong?”

you turn to him, slowly, and his hand makes it way to your face and once it touches, you cry, you cry your eyes out. his eyes widen in alarm and he tires to envelope you in his arms, but your arms are weakly hitting his chest, “please let me go,” a sob escapes your lips with so much force it makes you cough, “don’t hurt me,please,” and realization takes over him.

“PLEASE DON’T HURT ME! PLEASE SUGURU!” you scream, terrified; what if all what he was with you was a mere plan to lead you into the same fate?

lost in your own thoughts and fears, you don’t see the tears that cascade down your lover’s face slowly, almost unnoticeable.

his heart is aching and a lump in his throat forms, you think he will hurt you?

RYOMEN SUKUNA:

he had strictly told you not to leave the grounds of the palace, but ol’ little you wanted to explore the gardens and fields behind the fence, so what’s the best option? go off and explore, but now thinking about it, you should’ve at least taken a servant to be with you cause now you’re kind of lost.

you’re praying that sukuna doesn’t find you here and instead uses another route, but at the same you want someone to help you. however still, you’ve heard all of the tales about what happened to the women who didn’t listen to him, and they frightened you to the core.

some say that one of them was hung on a tree above a swamp so she can “rot where she belongs” and another one was thrown to a bunch of predators to feast on her while sukuna watched, almost bored.

you needed to find a way back quickly; you look around, finally noticing the footsteps you took and hurriedly following them till you’re finally back at the entrance.

you cheer quietly, happy to be back and without him finding you out, but as soon as you try to enter, you’re stopped by a guard.

“can I help you, sir?”

he eyes you up and down, “aren’t you the king’s current concubine?” and you nod.

for some reason, he grabs you by the hair harshly making you scream, “didn’t he tell you not to exist this place? you’re just a glutton of punishment like all of the others.”

you’re thrown onto the ground once again, and the guard nears your whimpering form, “disobedience is a bad sin, little girl,” and just before the spear pierces through your chest, the man is sliced to 7 pieces.

he is also stepped on by a foot, and when you look up to see its owner, it’s none other than sukuna.

you sit up to bow your head quickly, crying and sobbing, barely keeping it together as you think your end has come, “please, my lord forgive me! I only wanted to see the flowers! please, I will never disobey you again! I beg you, please don’t kill me!”

the man can only look in bewilderment, just what nonsense are you spouting? “woman, stand up.”

you never thought that your life actually flashes through your eyes.

taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss @pompompurin1028 @scul-pted @dazaisdeathwish @requiem626k @nameless-shrimp @shinys-bsd-world-1 @sonder-paradise @ravenina14 @jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @bakugossanity @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @luciferspen @fiona782 @kisakitwister

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

6K notes · View notes

fangirl-writes · 2 months

Text

Tell me you want this

Isaac Lahey x Fem!Stilinski!Reader

Warning(s): canon-level stuff, blood, making out, mentions of sex

Summary: In a life that is constantly on the move, you appreciate the small moments much more. Especially if they're with Isaac.

"It'll just heal in a few minutes, you know," Isaac said.

"I know," you replied, sitting on his bed next to him.

You pulled a baby wipe from its package and held Issac's chin between your thumb and forefinger, moving his head to look him over.

It had been a particularly bad fight, for everyone. The kind of fight where you needed the rest of the night to just heal; physically, mentally, emotionally.

And, of course, you wouldn't let Isaac do it on his own.

You began wiping at a spot on his face, gliding the cloth over the apple of his cheek.

"If Stiles finds out about this, he's gonna be upset," Isaac said, watching your face contort as you worked.

"Yeah, well," you moved his head to the other side, frowning at the mention of your brother. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it."

You and Isaac had known each other forever. Being in the same grade, it would’ve been hard not to notice one another, but even besides that you had a connection. You were sort of friends.

Not the kind that hung out outside of school, but the loners who ate lunch under the bleachers and spent free periods in the library.

You also covered for him whenever he wasn’t in school, finding out about his home life after his dad had a particularly bad day.

You’d cleaned him up then, too.

Isaac gently grabbed your wrist, "and Derek-"

"Derek's not gonna hurt me."

You'd long since perfected sneaking into Derek's loft to see Isaac. You suspected that he knew you were there. Being a seasoned werewolf, you were sure he could hear the extra heartbeat, if not smell your scent.

But you didn't care, and clearly neither did he.

But Isaac? Isaac cared.

Ever since he became a werewolf, and you were further pulled into the bullshit that came along with that, he’d been protective in a way he hadn’t before.

You weren’t sure if it was a wolf thing or if Isaac felt some kind of obligation to you. Either way, you wouldn’t let him keep you out of it.

Tossing the wipe in the trash, you put your hand to his now clean cheek. "Relax."

He eyed you for a long moment, searching, before he took a deep breath and leaned into your touch.

The shape of his jaw pressed into your palm, his hand wrapping around your wrist gently, as if just to touch you.

Silence surrounded you, only the sound of your heartbeats and breathing cutting through.

That and the tension that hung palpably in the small space between you.

"You know," he pulled at the new hole in his shirt. "I think you better get this one, too."

You smiled, shaking your head. "I guess I better."

He wasted no time in pulling the material over his head and tossing it somewhere else in the room, making you laugh.

You scooted closer to him, crossing your legs under you and pulling another wipe from the package.

"Oh, Isaac," you said, taking in the wound. "It must've hurt."

He shrugged. "You'd be surprised how much the adrenaline can mask...and I'm used to pain."

He was so close now, close enough you could feel his breath on your cheek as you cleaned him up.

You focused on the task at hand because if you didn't, you'd notice the way he was staring at you. And you weren't sure what you'd do if you met his eyes.

He was fitter than he used to be, the tone of his chest and abs more prominent, his arms more muscular.

You unconsciously lifted your other hand to drag it down his chest.

He shivered under your touch. "Y/N..."

You swallowed, stilling your hand on his shoulder as you continued to clean him up.

"Y/N," he said again, making you look up at him.

His eyes were already on you, as you suspected, looking at you with so much intensity you wondered what he was thinking.

"Yes?"

He was so beautiful, especially this close.

You could see every line on his face, every freckle, every mole. The sculpt of his nose, the part of his lips. The dim light made the blue of his eyes seem darker, or maybe that was just the way he was looking at you.

He lightly pushed down your hand that had stilled on his chest so that he could lean closer, brushing his nose against yours.

"Tell me you want this."

His breath fanned your lips, and you sucked in a breath. "Isaac-"

"I can hear your heartbeat," he said. "I can tell how nervous you are...don't be. Tell me you want this."

You released the breath, shakily. "Yes. Yes, please, kiss me."

He leaned in, pressing his lips softly against yours.

You kissed him back, hesitantly. So hesitantly that he stopped, but didn't go far, allowing you the power to continue if you wanted. And you did.

More confidently this time, you kissed him. And he kissed you back.

You didn't realize how much you'd wanted this until now. How kissing him felt akin to breathing; natural, easy, like if you stopped, you might die.

It was a natural progression that he pulled you closer by your waist, his hands rough but gesture gentle, slow.

Your hands slid their way over the shape of his arms, then shoulders, then neck before they finally stopped to tangled themselves in his hair.

He hummed into your mouth, dragging his tongue over your bottom lip, and you parted them. His tongue slid over yours, experimentally, trying to find a rhythm.

You tugged against his hair.

That caused him to moan.

His fingers were ghosting just under your shirt when-

"Isaac, I need you to- oh my god."

You jumped apart, faces burning, as Derek stood in the doorway of Isaac's room.

It was pointless to try to look innocent, Isaac was shirtless for Christ's sake.

"Okay, I've clearly let this go on too long, I don't need you having sex in here."

"We weren't going to have sex!" Isaac protested, and you hid your face in your hands.

"Maybe not yet," Derek replied, crossing his arms. "How'd you get here anyway?"

"Walked," you replied sheepishly.

"Great, now I'm going to have to take you home. They're going to think I've kidnapped you."

"I can walk home."

"After that fight today? I'm surprised you made it here, let alone getting back."

"I can take her back," Isaac offered.

"And have you get busy in my car? Yeah, no, thanks."

"We wouldn't-" Isaac groaned. "Fine."

"Let's go. Now."

Too embarrassed to protest, you stood and followed Derek out the door.

Boyd and Erica were sitting in the main room and looked at you with wide eyes when they saw you come out of Isaac's room.

Great, you thought. Now it looks like a walk of shame.

"Y/N, wait."

You turned as Isaac came out of his room, holding your jacket in his hand.

"You, uh, forgot this," he said, blushing as everyone looked at him.

Face hot, you took it from him. "Thanks."

You put it on as Derek grabbed his keys and the two of you disappeared out the door.

Then Boyd and Erica's eyes drifted back to Isaac.

"...what?"

Erica split into a grin. "So, Stilinski, huh?"

"Shut up."

#isaac lahey x reader #isaac lahey x y/n #teen wolf imagine #teen wolf x reader

179 notes · View notes

lemonsdaydreams · 9 months

Text

breaking the distance. |c.b|

summary: You and Colby have been dating for nearly two years, enduring long distance and making the best out of time zones and chaotic work/ school schedules. The two of you knew one day the distance would be shortened to where there would be no more planes needed to see each other, and date night could finally be more than just facetiming and watching a movie together at the same time. One of you just happened to know it would be happening sooner rather than later.

~*~*~*~*~*~

No one ever expected Colby and I’s relationship to last, and I couldn’t really blame them. On the outside looking in, It seemed like it was a storm waiting to happen. Colby, a very well known social media content creator, constantly traveling and investigating new locations with his best friend in and outside the country, and lives on the west coast of the united states. Me, a non social media content creator, studying emergency paramedicine, lives on the east coast, and never even had a passport until two months ago. The main thing people always loved to throw at us was the distance. ‘Why date someone who lives a 5 hour plane ride away, when there’s plenty of people here in the same state for you to choose from?’

I personally didn’t fully expect us to be where we are right now when I met Colby over two years ago. It’s crazy how things happen though, how quickly you connect with a person. It’s as if I’d known him my whole life, as if I was connecting with an old friend I hadn’t seen in years that night at the bar. We talked and talked for hours, the rest of the crowded bar tuned out and all I saw was him. Colby and his friends he had traveled to the east coast with a few days later after we first ended up coming over to my apartment for a game night after constantly texting and getting to know each other more. Ironically, one of his friends that came with him, I knew from my childhood. Talk about a small world.

The buzzing of my cellphone in my hand snapped me out of the daydream I was in. A smile quickly spread across my face as I spotted Colby’s name on the caller ID before answering.

“Finally waking up, Mr. Brock?” I smiled as I held the phone to my ear.

“I’m so sorry beautiful, I slept through my alarm. I totally planned on waking up earlier to be able to talk to you in case you began to stress over your exam today.” His morning voice was something that always caught me off guard, the deep rasp. It always made me yearn for the day I’d be able to hear it in person, and not over the phone.

Of course over the past two years we’ve met up and spent time together, however it was usually when him and Sam were on a trip to film or when I had a small break between semesters at school and could afford to visit him.

“It’s okay Colby, I promise.” I smiled to myself and attempted to contain my excitement as I scanned the empty apartment once more. “I’ve been just cleaning and relaxing on the couch. I think if I tried reading any more of my textbooks my eyeballs might fall out of my head.”

Colby chuckled as my apartment door swung open, and I quickly muted myself as Seth, the friend of Colby’s that I’ve known since childhood came in. “Who’s ready to mo- oh shit, are you on the phone?” He quickly covered his mouth with a hand.

“Yeah, with Colby.” I giggled before giving him a ‘shh’ and taking myself off mute.

“You’re going to do great. You always do great. This is the final bridge needing to be crossed and then I’ll be able to have you in my arms every night and hear about the crazy encounters you have at work in person. God, I can’t wait for that to be real, beautiful. I miss you so much.”

“I can’t believe that it’s finally here. Just this semester and then I’m done, graduated, nationally registered to work anywhere in the country. By the way, My supervisor reached out to the base that’s not far from where you live, and they have an open paramedic spot that is up for grabs.” I bit my bottom lip and glanced at Seth who also shared the same nervous look.

I’ve always hated lying, and lying to Colby these past few months have been absolute torture. But he’s always the one surprising me, I wanted to finally surprise him. I ended up taking an earlier program that Colby didn’t know about, which allowed me to graduate and become a paramedic three months ago. However, Colby still thought I had another two months to go. During this time since finishing school, I’ve been working and studying protocols for the state I’d be moving to, coordinating with Sam on shipping my stuff to Vegas from New England without Colby seeing the boxes, selling stuff I don’t need to bring, and basically getting ready to move to Vegas. Of course, Colby knew this day would be coming, as we have a whole checklist we share on google docs to make sure we have everything lined up for when the day comes, He just doesn’t know it’s happening sooner. Or that I’m going to be there, in like 12 hours.

“Baby, Is it okay if I let you go? I can call you back later. I have to bring my phone to the apple store, I finally got an appointment to get my battery fixed.” I ran a hand through my hair, constantly reminding myself mentally the lying would be over soon.

“Oh good, I’m so glad you got that appointment babe, I have to get going anyway. Sam and I have to go meet up with some friends to film a video, but text or call me as soon as you finish your exam okay? I love you.”

After saying goodbye and hanging up, I groaned and laid back on the empty granite counter. “Dude, no wonder you hate lying. Thank god that wasn’t a facetime call or one look at your face and Colby would see your face and just know you were hiding something.” Seth chuckled and I flipped him the bird.

“Can we go get coffee before we head to the airport? This whole not having my own car thing sucks.” Seth chuckled once more before nodding and holding out his rental keys that I snatched out his hand before he could speak. “Yes, I’ll drive. You drive worse than my grandmother.”

“Now boarding Group A.”

“I’m really flying to Vegas without a return ticket.” I mumbled as I handed my ticket to the flight attendant at the gate. I glanced over my shoulder at Seth who stood behind me, laughing. “You’re finally moving to Vegas. Which means Sam and I won’t have to hear Colby talk about how much he misses your voice all the time and try to figure out what haunted places we could go see near where you live.”

“Are you sure he won’t question why my phone is off for over five hours? I mean we don’t talk on the phone all day every day, but we usually check in over text to say Hi and that we miss each other or something. I don’t think a phone battery replacement would take five hours.” I buckled my seatbelt once Seth and I got to our assigned seats. “You seriously worry too much.” Seth patted my hand as he smiled. “We’ve got it all figured out. He isn’t going to have any time to check his phone with what they’re filming.”

“This is going to be a long ass five hours, Seth. This is why teleportation should be a thing. I could already be there, with Colby.” I sighed as I turned to look out the window, anxiously tapping my foot on the ground. Seth laughed and out of the corner of my eye, I spotted him hold his phone out to take a photo.

“Don’t you dare post that.” I looked at him wide eyed, which caused Seth to laugh more. “Relax, It’s a video. For memories.” I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms across my chest. “Should I yell it out now that you’re a paramedic, just in case there’s a medical emergency?”

“Don’t you dare. I’m too nervous to provide any care, nor do I want to start my career as a medic off by taking care of someone on a plane. Why aren’t we moving yet?” I peered up and around the seats, huffing as I noticed not everyone was seated.

“God this is going to be so funny to look back on.” Seth mumbled as he put his phone down.

~*~

“I’ve got all your stuff in the storage unit, and your car should be arriving in the next few days.” Sam smiled as he drove Seth and I from the airport. Colby was back at the house editing and thinking Sam had just gone out to get food for the two of them. “It’s really good to finally see you, by the way. Colby is going to lose his mind.”

“I’m so nervous.” I mumbled looking out the window of the car and taking in the change of scenery. “He thinks I’m still in my exam right now.”

“Oh I know. Dude is a love sick puppy right now.” Sam laughs and gives me a smile. “Once we get to the house, I’m going to go inside to ask Colby to come out and help me grab some stuff from my car, but in reality it will only be you.” He added while Seth readjusted the camera on the dash of the car. I nodded and prayed we’d be arriving at the house soon.

Once at the house, I laid down in the back seat of the car to hide until Colby came out. “Yeah it’s on the passenger side in the back, If you can just grab it for me as well as the camera!” Sam called out, signaling that Colby was coming my way. Before I knew it, the door was swung open and I quickly sat up and smiled as my eyes landed on Colby. “Surprise!”

Colby stared in shock for a moment, eyes wide with confusion. Next thing I knew, He was grabbing my legs and pulling me out of the vehicle and up into his arms. My arms quickly wrapped around his neck, resting my head on his shoulder and wrapping my legs around him as he held me. “What is going on?” Colby yelled out, turning to glance at his friends back at the doorway before slamming the car door and moving so I was pressed against it and using one of his hands to pull my head back so he could see my face. “You have an exam?” His eyebrows furrowed.

“Baby.” I laughed softly. “Oh my gosh I’ve absolutely hated lying to you. I graduated early, That’s why I was so busy over break and couldn’t see you. I didn’t tell you because I wanted to surprise you by being able to finally be here sooner than you thought.” I cupped his face in my hands and blinking back tears as I finally got a good look at him. “I can’t believe I’m here.”

“I missed your graduation?” He frowned, resting his forehead against mine. “I’m so confused baby.” He quickly closed the distance between us and kissed me gently. “But dear god have I been dying to kiss you.” He mumbled against my lips.

“No, It was a winter graduation so there’s no walk you didn’t miss anything.” I kissed him once more. “But I’m here. no more distance. It’s finally broken.” I ran a hand through his hair as I stared into his blue eyes. Colby pulled me closer once more and began kissing me again, deeper this time before beginning to head towards the house. “You guys should probably head our for a while.” Colby mumbled as he passed Sam and Seth, his gaze still set on me. “Already planned on it. We’ll be back later. Welcome home!” Sam called out as Colby walked away from them, still carrying me. I let out a small laugh and began kissing Colby’s cheeks and playing with his hair at the nape of his neck.

“I can’t believe you lied.” Colby fake pouted as he gently tossed me on his, ours now, bed before climbing on top of me. “But it was so worth it.” He mumbled before kissing me. “Now it’s time for me to welcome you home.” He smirked.

1K notes · View notes

wileys-russo · 3 months

Note

could you make a grace clinton x reader blurb please? maybe they’re watching a movie and end up making out?

restless II g.clinton

"baby! sweet or salty?" you yelled out as you rummaged through your pantry for snacks, your girlfriend over for your weekly thursday movie night, both of you having a mutual day off on a friday meaning you could stay up as late as you wanted.

"both please babe!" grace shouted back, busying herself building a pillow fort of sorts on your sofa, huffing in frustration as it all came crashing down. "winning the battle then?" you poked your head out in amusement as she sent you a frown.

"no! but i'll win the war." grace huffed, thick accent making you swoon as you stepped back into the kitchen with a smile, grabbing out probably far too many snacks than you needed for just the two of you.

you flinched in surprise as a body pressed into yours, lips peppering your jaw with soft kisses as you eased back into her arms. "sorry for the jumpscare babe." the girl smiled against the taunt skin of your neck, lips grazing your collarbone.

"no you're not." you smiled knowingly, tilting your head to look at her eyes which were alight with mischief. "nah i'm not." grace grinned, kissing you properly before you lightly patted her side and pulled away.

the two of you collecting your snacks your face lit up seeing the successful and seemingly sturdy fort now occupying your living room. "won the war and made a sturdy fort of protection, my hero." you smiled teasingly, pecking her lips appreciatively.

"but wait, there's more!" grace grinned as the two of you made yourself comfortable, the midfielder clapping her hands several times before rummaging around by her side, fairy lights suddenly illuminating your small tent.

"you're so cute gracie." you swooned, grinning at the slight blush which coated her cheeks. "yeah yeah, shut up and pick a movie." the footballer rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest and nodding to the tv.

kissing her warm cheek you smiled and leaned into her side, head falling to her shoulder as her arm draped across the back of you. "oh! we said we wanted to watch this right? since we missed out seeing it in the cinemas." you stopped your browsing on a relatively new film, grace agreeing as you clicked play.

the rom com had you both making stupid comments to one another, giggles stiffed in between stolen kisses as both your attentions wandered a little.

you could tell grace started to grow tired and restless of the film, her touches becoming more intentional as you grabbed her hands and interlaced your fingers hoping to calm her a little more.

"love, watch the movie its nearly done." you smiled as her face smushed into your neck, hands wandering down to your hips and pulling you to sit half on top of her.

"its borin, you're interestin." grace murmured causing you to squirm a little as her words vibrated off your skin, lazy kisses pressed against your jaw.

"your attention span is something else clinton, you know that right?" you teased as her hands wandered, squeezing and pinching at your skin as her lips trailed across the sensitive skin of your neck and shoulders.

"my attention span is perfect babe, its always focused on ya." she grinned, head retracting with a wink as you rolled your eyes. "come on i can already tell ya how it ends. boy gets the girl, all problems solved and they live happily ever after." grace sighed with a shake of her head.

"wow you should become a director? that almost sounds like every single movie i've ever seen." you teased, turning your body a little to face her easier as her own grin shone back at you. "well, ya know how every movie has to end don't ya?" grace questioned, leaning in a little.

"mmm no, you'll have to remind me?" you stroked your chin thoughtfully, bridging the gap between you two, mere millimetres between your lips.

"the perfect kiss of course." grace pressed her lips to yours, one hand on the back of your neck and the other squeezing your thigh as yours wrapped around her neck and the pair of you laid down a little more to get comfortable.

resting your body on top of hers you exhaled in pleasure as your girlfriends short nails scratched at the skin on the back of your neck, moving to deepen the kiss as her tongue slipped into your mouth.

but as you moved to straddle her properly your knee knocked the remote and sent the volume sky rocketing as you and grace fell apart, knocking heads with a groan as you hurried to switch off the tv.

you winced, touching your forehead where no doubt an egg would soon be forming as grace did the same, the two of you sharing a look an collapsing into one another laughing.

"well, that was rom com worthy of ya babe."

#woso #woso x reader #woso fanfics #grace clinton x reader #grace clinton #woso community #woso imagine #woso blurbs #engwnt

354 notes · View notes

infamous-if · 11 months

Text

I know, I know. It took 2 months to write the second drabble from the poll but...this is not even a drabble anymore. Instead, it's more of a collection of scenes mostly because if I do write how Orion found and began managing the band it would be an entire chapter. I will say that I condensed this due to that, but if I ever do write the whole thing it might look a *little* different. I had to cut corners and shorten scenes for the sake of length. Still, hope you like it! (This is 4, 363 words btw. what is wrong with me) I should probably find a more efficient way to share such long works but whatevs. As always, ignore any mistakes or typos or wordy sentences or sentences that probably make no sense upon reading it a second time. I don't edit drabbles and I always just publish the first drafts. haha.

“…Love me and hate me, I don’t mind as long as you take me—”

A low grumble rises in Orion’s throat when the song pauses, the car falling into an unfamiliar silence just as it slows in front of a red light. His large hands tighten their grip on the wheel, and his eyes glide to his co-worker, Marty, just as he’s pulling his hand away from the PAUSE button on the console.

“Is there a reason you’re touching my stuff?” Orion asks, his voice carrying its usual calm that holds a level of ice that has even his superiors shuddering when they think he’s not looking.

Marty licks his lips, his face twisting into its usual expression of guilt. Orion softens his face for his friend’s sake.

Orion Quinn knows the impact he has on people. The rumors that plague him have reached his ears on multiple occasions; he’s a shell of what he once was, never having gotten over the one who got away. He’s detached, the merciless worker that the boss goes to when he’s in need of someone who can do the firing.

He’s the one people are afraid of crossing or talking casually to in fear of letting something slip. People fear him more than they fear the execs.

It wasn’t always like this, sure. Once, Orion used to smile freely, used to talk openly and wear vulnerability like a favorite coat. But then the divorce happened and sides were taken. Suddenly, the armor he didn’t know he had was reinforced, dented and bruised from a battle he didn’t expect to fight, but reinforced nonetheless.

Never date your co-workers.

“The song is terrible, man.” Marty sighs, running a hand through his oily brown hair when he plops back in the seat. The same seat he pushed back at a 120-degree angle. Admittedly, it makes Orion’s nerves flare up. He says nothing; he has enough self-awareness to know that complaining about his seat is a bit too much, even for him. “I was doing both our ears a favor.”

The light changes and Orion absently drums his fingers on the wheel as he drives on ahead, eyes gliding outside to soak in the densely populated street underneath the rising sun. “Yeah.” The word comes out in a resigned breath. “I was hoping it’d get better.”

“We were on the bridge,” Marty throws back. “The only way it could get better is if it ended.” Orion’s lip twitches and of course, Marty can’t let it go. ”Oh! That was an almost-smile.” He leans forward to poke Orion’s rib.

Orion lets out a laugh before his face quickly drops.

Marty grins, plopping his elbow on the ledge of the car door. “All I’m saying is you’ve been listening to demos nonstop this whole month. Not once have I seen you even mildly excited for any of them.”

Orion grits his teeth. “I haven’t had anything substantial to show the team in ages. Our last artist pulled out on signing with us last minute. Our established artists aren’t selling as well anymore. The industry is getting oversaturated—“

“—and we need to be ahead of the curve. Yadda, yadda.” Marty rolls his eyes. “Do you ever just relax? Damn. That stick up your ass is ten-feet lon—“

Marty chokes on his words when Orion’s eyes cut to his. “Say anything else and I’m kicking you out of my car.”

Marty pouts but relents anyway, choosing to change the subject. “What about dating?”

Orion keeps his eyes on the road but quirks a brow. “What about it?”

“You know…” Marty starts, gesticulating vaguely as he searches for the right words. “Maybe putting yourself out there could help you relax. Or even inspire you—“

“No.”

“What? Okay, but—"

“Not interested.”

“You didn’t even know what I was going to sa—“

“Don’t have to.”

Marty huffs and says nothing for a long moment. Neither of them rush to fill the silence; normal for Orion but unusual for his infinitely more talkative friend. It’s only when he pulls into Carolina Records’ parking lot that Marty speaks again and Orion realizes his silence was really just contemplation.

“I know the divorce was difficult,” he starts, delicate, “but—“

Orion’s jaw clenches.

“— that doesn’t mean you should give up.”

Orion sits there a moment, fingers clenching into fists. “It’s not giving up if I never tried in the first place.” He swings open the door and steps out, the car door slamming with a hint of finality.

. . .

Carolina Records boasts a twenty-floor skyscraper made up of floor-to-ceiling glass windows and sleek, dark marble floor. Orion has been here since he graduated college; going from a measly intern to an A&R representative responsible for finding two of the most promising artists in the company.

That was a year ago. Since then, the well of new talent has dried up and Orion doesn’t know what to do.

Of course, he was offered higher positions, all of which he quickly denied. Orion always had a knack for numbers and trends, discovering what new genre is going to come to the forefront, seeing what kind of music the general public is listening to. Music: he understands it better than people. His understanding is almost clinical: while people listen to it for enjoyment, Orion seeks the patterns, the feelings that every beat and scale and vocal run they invoke. He takes it apart and puts it together like a surgeon does a patient. It just makes sense to him.

He could do so much more, he knows that, but none of that interests him.

The music—that’s what he likes.

Discovering new talent is what excites him. Which is why this odd dry spell has him walking with gritted teeth and tension between his shoulders-blades. He has to do something.

“Mr. Quinn.”

Orion nods at a woman who passes by the hallway, ignoring the way Marty does a whole spin when he tracks her retreating frame down the hall.

Another one. This time a man from the marketing department. “Good Morning, Mr. Quinn.”

“Morning.”

Marty scoffs when the man continues walking, not sparing him a glance.

“Am I chopped liver or something?” Marty complains.

“Mr. Quinn, hey!”

“Hi.” Orion nods his head once and presses the elevator button. When his eyes land on a frowning Marty he says, “You’re just not sociable.”

“Huh?!” Marty then lets out an embarrassingly high-pitched sputter of a laugh. “And you are?”

Orion frowns. “Yes.”

Another laugh. “You’re smart, dude, you know it’s more because of that”— he gestures vaguely at him—“than your social skills.”

The elevator doors open with a cheerful bell and they step inside. “What?”

“You know.” Marty shrugs. “Your face. You look like you should be on a billboard advertising overpriced cologne with your shirt unbuttoned and your hand in your hair talking about your luxurious life or something.”

“That’s…specific.”

Marty shrugs. “I read a lot of GQ.”

Orion wrinkles his nose when they spin to face the doors. “While it is true I would be considered objectively handsome by societal standards—“

“Oh, fuck off.”

“—I don’t think that’s the case.” This time Orion lets out a small smile. “Or maybe it is?” He quirks a brow at his co-worker. “Should I send a gift basket to my parents? A ‘thank-you-for-the-superior-DNA gift?’”

Marty shakes his head. “You know, when you do try to be funny you still sound like an asshole.”

Orion hums, the joke tickling him enough for him to let out his first smile of the day.

The elevator doors sing their arrival and they bid farewell once they part to go to their respective offices. Orion strides to his corner office where another one of his co-workers, Kass, is standing with a box in her hands.

“This week’s demos.” Orion is just putting his arms out when she plops the boxes on them. “You should really stop requesting unsolicited demos. It’s such an outdated way of doing things.”

Orion ignores her and unlocks his office door, turning the knob and pushing it open with his hip. His office is barren but spacious, with high windows overlooking the city. Marty told him once that people would kill to have his office, but really it’s just like any other space. What’s an office without a productive person to work in it? Orion hasn’t done anything of meaning in weeks.

Sighing, he drops the box on the table unceremoniously, picking up the first CD on the top of the pile. GROUNDED IN REALITY reads the title, and it’s so apt that he almost chucks the CD in the trash on that very fact alone. Still, he’s nothing if not fair. Another sigh escapes him and he gets to listening.

. . .

Helpless.

That’s how he feels.

After hours of listening, the music has long since blurred together in a portrait of uninspired melodies and generic, radio-friendly lyrics. Nothing stood out, nothing made him want to dig into the song in search for more, nothing made him feel.

Is it me? Am I the problem?

Jaw clenched, Orion fishes out his phone, the usual flinch coming to him when he sees the background. He forgot to change it, and it’s always an (unwanted) surprise whenever he sees a picture of them together.

One year ago. The beach. Happy.

Shaking his head, he sends a quick text to his mother telling her that he’ll have to raincheck on their dinner. He still has half a box of songs left. Looks like he’ll be staying late.

“Yo, Orion!” A knock. “Let’s go! I want to driiink.”

Or not.

Marty strides in without waiting for an invitation, a grin on his face. “Tab is on me.”

“Do you ever work?” Orion asks, eyes half-lidded in equal parts annoyance and indifference.

His friend frowns. “This is work.”

“I don’t think getting drunk is in the job description.” Orion looks down, absently clicking on the button of his mouse in an effort to busy his hands.

“Wah, wah. Don’t be a fucking party pooper.”

“Too late.”

Marty shoots him a look. “A few artists are playing tonight. Call this recruitment.” He uses spirit fingers. “Maybe you’ll even loosen up for once.” When Orion looks at him, a brow raised, Marty drops his hands. “Yes, I do my job sometimes. Don’t look so surprised.”

“It’s not that,” Orion starts. He doesn’t immediately continue. Instead, they simply stare at each other. Marty wiggles his brows as Orion narrows his gaze. “When you say the tab is on you—“

Marty whips out a black card. “Company card, baby!”

Orion palms his face with a long groan as Marty begins to moonwalk across Orion’s office. “I was perfectly fine staying inside.” Even though he says this, a moment later he stands and grabs his trenchcoat from the back of the chair. “And you’re driving.”

“What!” Marty stomps his foot as he follows him out. “Nooooo.”

. . .

The bar sits in a livelier part of the city, a part that Orion doesn’t often find himself in. It’s less about the scene and more about the memories associated with every damn corner of this place. Orion can pluck a memory from his mind like a petal from a rose garden: the diner they went to and fought for fifteen minutes over who would get to pay the bill, the park they spent their lunches at.

The shop where he bought the ring.

“This place is golden,” Marty says, breaking Orion out of the string of memories he wishes he could erase forever, “it’s like a real gritty, underground hole-in-the-wall vibe.”

“Sounds like fun,” comes out of Orion in a dour tone that has Marty rolling his eyes.

They stride through the neon glow of the brick hall until it opens up to a dimly lit bar. The space is humble; the sparse crowd is compensated by the energy of the performers on the stage.

“Stacy, do you remember when I mowed your lawn…?”

“Is the band really covering Fountains of Wayne?” Orion says through gritted teeth.

Marty bites his lower lip, his obvious attempt to stifle laughter only making Orion’s faux horror flare even more. “Maybe.” Marty spins around, shimmying his shoulder. “You don’t agree that Stacy’s Mom Has Got It Going on?” Marty then realizes something and laughs. “You know, I dated a Stacy once. Weirdly enough, her mom wasn’t that bad looking—“

Orion sighs and quickly moves to the bar. “I need a drink.”

Whatever hope Orion had of finding new talent is gone in the face of the line-up. It quickly becomes obvious that the performers are composed of people who aren’t taking the ‘gig’ seriously or patrons that are half-drunk and stumbling on the small stage.

Worse that the place is pathetically empty; it’s only them two and three other stragglers eating stale fries and bobbing their heads to the music, more out of obligatory politeness than anything else. Orion is suddenly regretting taking Marty up on his offer.

Orion drinks his lager through periodic gulps, his desire to forget this night growing with every person that performs. The memories of this area coupled with his lack of work lately make him dizzy. He wants to escape. Quit. Scream. All of it.

“Get me another,” Orion says, much to Marty’s delight.

More and more people perform until Orion has lost any focus on the stage. Instead, he entertains himself by watching the game on the TV, having long given up on finding any new promising talent in a place like this.

“Next up we have”—the bartender stops, her eyes narrowing as she tries to read something off an index card—“er, [band]. Yeah. Give them a round of applause.”

With how few people are in attendance, the applause is less applause and more awkward clapping that quickly dies after two.

The people on stage are younger. Immediately, Orion notices that they’re equipped with actual instruments instead of relying on the karaoke machine in the corner. A decisive point in their favor, he decides.

“You said this was a gig…” He hears one of them say to what appears to be the lead singer. The boy wears a red hat, as well as an assortment of chains on his neck. Three other band members set up their instruments, trying not to look too disappointed by the turnout. Still, even with the lager creating a slight fog in his head, Orion knows that look. The moment when hope dies, burning like a napkin to a flame.

“No,” the lead singer says pointedly as they adjust their mic, “I said this was a favor.” In that moment, the singer nods their head at the bartender, who shoots them an appreciative thumbs-up. “A paid favor.”

The boy shakes his head but snorts. “I guess.”

Once they’re set up, the singer looks ahead, gazing at the bar. Their eyes briefly settle on Orion as they gaze at the few faces in the room. “Hey!” they say, chirpy. “We’re [band]. Thanks for coming out!”

A chorus of muttering replies.

Marty taps on the bar. “Wanna head out?”

Orion, unable to look away, shakes his head. “No. I want to see this.”

The next few minutes feel like a dream. Orion is in a daze as the song plays, the beats piercing through him. The voice sends goosebumps up his arms, the instruments weave together in a perfect harmony that has Orion’s heart racing. When the song ends, it’s too soon. He wants it to keep going. He doesn’t want it to end.

He wants more.

“Thanks!” The singer says to a smattering of slightly enthusiastic applause. This is the most energy everyone has had all night. They turn, grab their things, and disappear through the curtain. Orion bursts up….

…spilling his drink on the table.

“Oh!” the bartender squeaks as Marty hisses.

“Aw, fuck.” Orion curses, and then flinches. “Sorry. Uh….sorry.” He doesn’t know what his apology is for. Dropping the drink, cussing, or speeding away before he could help clean it up in order to catch the band backstage?

“Hey!” Marty calls. “Where are you going?”

Orion ignores him. He has a one-track mind right now, one focused on finding the band that just made him feel like he hit the jackpot. This. This is what he’s been looking for.

The door swings open, and the band stop mid-conversation to look at Orion, who busted through the door without so much as a plan or script in place. Instead, he simply stands there.

“Uh.” One girl, flaunting bright blue hair, says. “Yeah?”

Orion reveals his card, feeling a bit like a robot. He moves on automatic, working through the many thoughts in his head to utter the rest of his words. “Do you have a manager?”

. . .

“You want to manage us?”

The din of the coffee shop sings with the sound of plates and aimless chatter. It’s been two days since he heard them perform back at the bar, and Orion has been running through his pitch the way one does before an interview. He’s never been this…nervous? Uncertain? In his life.

“Yes,” is Orion’s only response. He sits on one side of the table while the band sits on the other; an invisible wall between them. He can see it, their apprehension. He is not one of them.

Not yet, at least.

“Wait.” The boy Orion learned is named Rowan leans forward, fingers on the table. “How do we know this isn’t a scam?”

“I’m not asking for money. All I ask is for you to show up to play for my boss. That’s it.” Auditions are a lost art. Nowadays artists are recruited through viral internet songs and connections. Two things that always exhausted Orion. It hasn’t been just about the music in a long time.

Their eyes widen. They all exchange looks, equal parts excited and wary.

“Why?” [MC], who he learned is the sole singer of the band, asks.

Because you made me feel something. Because listening to you is the first time I felt human in a long time.

He imagines himself waving off those words like mist. “Because you’re the first band that has caught my attention. And it’s not easy to catch my attention.”

The band member named Iris snorts.

“I’m not trying to be arrogant,” he says blandly, leaning back in his chair to fold his arms over his chest. “It’s the truth.”

“Where do you work?” Another member, Devyn, asks.

“Carolina Records.”

Multiple pairs of eyes widen.

“Holy shit.” Jazzy laughs. “The Carolina Records?”

Orion nods, used to this kind of reaction. Starry-eyed artists are pretty much the same when it comes to Carolina. “Yes.” He leans forward, his heart racing. “Just one audition. That’s all I ask.”

He watches as they all exchange looks; a silent language only they share. After an agonizing moment, [MC] turns to him and nods. “When?”

. . . .

Orion has been pacing for the last half hour.

He stands outside Carolina’s humble theater space, chewing on his nails as he waits for his boss, Jacob Hill, and a smattering of other executives and shareholders that will be the final word in whether Orion can work with [band]. He hasn’t asked for something this big in so long that Jacob Hill immediately said yes, more out of excitement and surprise than anything else. Orion did produce two of their most profitable artists in the company.

The elevator doors open and Orion stops in place, head whipping up to see them walking through the hall in a wave of black suits and greased hair. Orion brushes down his shirt, trying to dampen his nerves. Jesus. Nerves? Get a grip, Orion.

He doesn’t know how to stand as he waits for them to approach. Hands in pockets? Arms crossed? Orion is so indecisive he just resorts to standing straight, arms at his sides.

“Mr. Hill.” Orion shakes his hand, clearing his throat. He makes his polite greetings to the rest of the team and says, “Thank you for making time for me.”

“Always, Orion.” Jacob slaps a large hand on his back. “You’re one of my best. You should ask me for favors more.”

Orion lets out a small, slightly nervous laugh. “Ah, you know. I like to—“

“—do things on your own,” Jacob finishes, a soft smile on his face. “I get it.”

He slowly looks up, meeting Jacob’s eyes. In them he can see the familiar pity he’s gotten since the divorce.

It’s Orion’s fault, really. If he didn’t isolate himself and turn into what he is now, people wouldn’t look at him and assume he’s broken inside.

Would they be wrong in their assumption, though? Am I broken inside?

“Shall we?” another executive says, and Orion bobs his head in a nod, pushing away the image of Jacob’s face.

Inside is a small theater, the stage just big enough for one artist. The seats are plush leather, the lights dim but blue. Jacob always likes the spectacle, and he catered this space to feel like a real performance for possible signees. Orion decides against sitting, too nervous to do anything but stand in the back, giving them the signal he taught them in his pep talk before they came.

[MC] nods. “Um. Hi. We’re [band]. I’m [MC] and this is Iris, Rowan, Devyn, and Jazzy. And um…this is [song].”

Orion flinches at the lackluster introduction. Doesn’t matter, he thinks, unfamiliarly optimistic, the music will do the talking.

And it does.

But not in the way he thought.

All throughout the song, Orion peeks at Jacob and his team. He wants to celebrate when he sees them bobbing their heads, wants to curse when they get on their phones. Orion has never worried this much in his whole career. He’s never wanted something so bad.

He’s never allowed himself to want. Not after the divorce.

He didn’t think he was deserving of getting what he wanted.

The song ends, and Orion lets out a breath. There’s muffled chatter between the men, and on stage the band crowd together, hopping in place as they let out their remaining nerves.

Jacob stands, the rest following. Orion speeds ahead, wanting to see the thoughts on his face. Instead, Jacob simply regards him with thin lips.

“They were…good,” Jacob whispers, putting a hand on Orion’s shoulder and guiding him out of the room and to the empty hall, “but I think we’re going to go in another direction.”

Orion’s positivity leaks out of him like an open faucet. “What.”

Jacob inhales through his nose. “Look, the singer is talented. They all are. I understand why you like them but…” He shakes his head. “I don’t think the guys see it. And plus,” he shrugs, “they don’t have what we’re looking for.”

Orion’s brows furrow. His stomach drops in itself and his mouth dries. “They have another song. They could play it—“

“Orion.” Jacob gives him that pitying expression again. Fucking hell. He wants to smack that expression off his face. “I know you’ve been…off, since the divorce. You haven’t been on top of your game, and I’ve been giving you your space. It’s not easy, especially since you worked together—“

“I’m fine,” he says tightly.

“—but you can’t…fixate on something to get over it. You need to do it the healthy way. The old Orion would’ve brought me someone with pizzazz. With that unique Orion touch, you know?” Jacob pulls him close. Orion is reduced to a scolded child, unable to do anything but listen. “This isn’t the Orion I know. You usually bring me diamonds.”

“I—“ Orion swallows. “I’m trying.” And it’s the most honest thing he’s said in ages. He’s trying. And it’s not working. He’s been trying the day he signed that fucking divorce paper and signed the only life he’s known away.

“I know you are,” Jacob says, squeezing his shoulder. “Sometimes we miss, and that’s alright.”

The rest of the group filter out and both Jacob and Orion step back, trying to hide any sign of their tense conversation. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Orion nods slowly, the lump in his throat growing as he feels multiple eyes on him. His jaw is clenched, his eyes are downturned. He can hardly look at his boss.

He stands there, frozen, forced to listen to their careless chatter as they walk down the hall. The moment they stepped out of those doors, they forgot about the band. The same band that made him feel something, the first time since his divorce. The same band he can’t get out of his head. The same band that proved he is not broken. He can still feel.

And they don’t even fucking care.

“I quit,” Orion says, the words coming out of him before he could even think. Jacob and Co turn around, twin expressions of shock on their faces. Orion looks up, straightening, trying to look even an inch of the Old Him.

“What?” Jacob blurts.

“I quit.” Orion swallows. “I’ll formally hand in my resignation tomorrow.” He bows, trying to muster up the little respect and professionalism he has in him. “I’m sorry.”

“Orion—“

He spins around, walking back inside.

The band is still on stage, this time all packed up and ready to go. When the door closes, they all look up, their hopeful and wide eyes on Orion as he walks down to the stage.

He stops in front of it. He puts two palms on the stage, looking at the members of the band he will take to the top. He promised it to himself…two minutes ago.

“I’m going to ask again,” Orion says through his teeth, his heart racing with the adrenaline of his quitting. What the fuck is he doing? And why does it feel so good? “Do you still need a manager?”

When he looks up, the band stares at him in silence.

He witnesses [MC] look behind him at the door, where Jacob and his team left. As if realizing something, they look back down. “Yeah. You okay with another artist in your roster?”

“Yes.” Orion nods. He’s okay with it.

Because all he needs is one.

#orion quinn #drabble #looks around #scratches head #infamous

646 notes · View notes

amyispxnk · 6 months

Text

Best Idea You’ve Ever Had

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Joel’s job is boring so you help make it a little more exciting ;)

A/N: I actually don’t have anything to say this time (goes on to ramble) I kind of like it and I’m like ‘oh I wrote a decent smut for once’ but I feel like I’m gonna read this again tomorrow and be like ew. I don’t really feel like I did this justice if you get what I’m saying. Feels very basic boring but anyway please read lmk and all the shit!!

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: established relationship, SMUT - blowjob, face-fucking, cum eating -, pet names, kissing, good girl used once, mm i think that’s it

DO NOT COPY THIS WORK IN ANY WAY PLS AND TY.

Joel adjusted the reading glasses which were close to falling off his nose, head tipping downwards as he tried to not fall asleep during this damned meeting and actually take notes which he needed for later.

His job was great, paid well, had reasonable enough hours - compared to his last job, where he could be working until anytime between 5 and midnight - and wasn’t too difficult, but god was it boring. He’d much rather be doing anything at all with you. You, who were probably sat downstairs, nose buried in one of those books you always read, legs curled beneath you as you laid on the couch, without him. It was the weekend, you were supposed to be spending time together and instead he was forced into work again, missing out on spending time with you again.

He pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh, looking back up to the computer screen when he heard a quiet knock on his office door.

“Joel?” Your small voice asked from behind it, keeping caution to not disturb him too much during his meeting.

He checked his microphone was muted before turning slightly. “Yeah, sweetheart?” He replied, watching as you walked in and gently shut the door behind you. You walked past his chair and sat on the small couch which was to the left of his desk, just behind it.

“You ‘member what we were talking about last night?” You asked.

He pondered it for a moment, furrowing his brows and cursing his age for not remembering that thing you were discussing the night before. You always talked a lot at night, save for a few times when he’d been close to sleeping on the couch and you could barely manage sleeping back-to-back, so his mind was replaying the most recent, lengthy conversation you’d had. When he remembered, his expression flickered with surprise before his lips curved into a smirk.

Last night, you two had talked about plans for the weekend during dinner when his meeting came up.

“I wanted to spend the whole weekend with you, we barely get time anymore..” He said with a frown as he finished telling you about the meeting and how long it would certainly take.

“Because we’re workin’ our asses off.” You quipped, trying to lighten his mood a little bit and internally melting at just how distraught he seemed at not being able to be with you the entire day tomorrow.

“That’s true.” He agreed with a little smile.

You let a moment of silence pass as you both finished eating quietly, when a devilish thought crossed your mind - a grin broadening on your face to pair with it.

“What you smirkin’ ‘bout?” He questioned as he took a sip of his water and stood up to go put your dishes away, you following behind him into the kitchen.

“Your meeting’s gonna last pretty much the whole day then?” Dodging the question as you still mulled over your idea in your head, not wanting to straight up ask him in case it made him feel awkward.

He nodded, uncertainty now painting all of his features as he looked at you. “What evil plot’re you cookin’ up in there?” He tapped on the side of your skull before his arms crossed over his chest and he leaned back against the counter, watching you and waiting for you to speak.

“What if I sucked you off during the meeting?” You blurted out, unable to stop yourself from laughing after you said it. “Sorry- if it’s weird, I just thought it might be fun, you’re always saying your job is so boring and annoying and-”

He quickly cut you off from your rambling. “Best fuckin’ idea you’ve ever had.” He told you, mind reeling at the prospect and his eyes genuinely seeming to light up as he thought harder and harder about it (something else getting harder and harder with it).

You were not expecting such an enthusiastic answer, nor such an enthusiastic kiss from him which made you feel like you were being swooped off your feet.

You giggled into the kiss as he finally broke apart from you, chest rising and falling heavily. “That’s settled then, I’ll add it to my checklist for tomorrow.” You smiled before going to get a glass of water and getting ready for bed.

“Yeah. I remember.” He said slowly, eyes narrowing as he thought it over in his head. “I gotta speak too though, might make it difficult.”

You walked up to him, lips pushed forward in a pout as you leaned forward to look over his shoulder, confirming his camera was off, before leaning forward and pressing a kiss to his lips. “Please, Joel. Jus’ wanna make you feel good.” You spoke in a sultry tone.

He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as his jaw clenched and praying to the lord nothing would go wrong, also asking for some more resistance against you because you could honestly get him to do anything anytime you wanted just like that.

“Okay.” He nodded, pants growing tighter as he watched you lower yourself beneath his desk, making sure you didn’t knock your head and settling between his legs. He adjusted his positioning in the chair so he could spread his legs a little wider for you, giving you the go-ahead.

You reached for the waistband of his pants, pulling them down and letting them pool around his ankles as you took his throbbing cock in hand, pumping him a few times and savouring the sight of him literally tearing the fabric of his office chair, digging his nails into it as he resisted the urge to move, grab you, touch you, pull you closer - anything.

You pressed kisses around his groin, a hand reaching up to massage his balls gently as you teased him and waited until it was his turn to speak.

He groaned at your touch, brows furrowed as he panted heavily. It was his turn to speak now, and he cautiously turned on his mic, putting his left hand on yours to still your movements for a moment as his right shakily grabbed his notes and he cleared his throat, starting to give the run-down on all the work that had been completed or needed to be done from the past fortnight.

You waited for a moment, listening to him talk before pressing a small kiss to his tip, making his cock jump in response as he choked on his words, eyes widening as he tried to mentally prepare himself for this.

Your lips gently closed around the flushed head of his cock and you sucked, making him cough abruptly as he tried to cover his moan. This was going perfectly.

You ease the rest of his length down your throat, nose coming flush to the coarse hair at its base as you begin to move back slowly, still toying with his balls as you do so.

“God- damnit.” He grits, having just come to the end of his bit, immediately turning his camera and mic off and grabbing a fistful of your hair. He leans back so he can get a better view of you and notices that one of your hands slipped down past your shorts and into your panties, your finger rubbing harsh circles onto your clit as you blowed him.

“Fuck.” He groaned, meeting your eyes. “You get off on this? Sucking my cock?”

You nodded so quickly your head could fall off, eager for him to release his grip so you could get back to what you started, but he had other plans.

“Y’gonna let me fuck this pretty throat, sweetheart?” He asked, pulling your head backward a little so you could give him proper consent.

“Y-yes, Joel. Please.” You breathed, head spinning as he immediately shoved his dick back into your mouth, making you work extra hard to not gag around his length as he began fucking it with earnest. His head fell back against the seat as his hips started moving on their own accord, chasing the wet heat of your mouth as he got closer and closer to his climax, thrusting one final time before stilling and spilling his hot load down your throat with a moan of your name.

You swallowed it all, sticking your tongue out to show him.

“Fuck, such a good girl for me, aren’t ya?” He groaned at the sight of you, pushing his chair back so you could get up from beneath the desk. His meeting finished and the call had ended, his computer screen now completely black and reflecting the pair of you in it.

Your legs wobbled slightly as you got up, and you could feel your heartbeat in your pussy as you stood between his spread legs, waiting for him to speak.

He pushed himself out of his chair and met your lips in a passionate kiss, tongue immediately darting out to meet yours as his hands roamed your body, one of them pulling your shorts down and getting them off you before he picked you up and started walking to your bedroom.

“Let me repay the favour, darlin’”.

Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed!! Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated and requests are open! 💞

289 notes · View notes