#the third gif lighting is mocking me

[hwiyoungies]

missing young k hours 4 - ∞

#malegroupsnet #day6 #young k #youngk #the third gif lighting is mocking me #missing yonk #b.edits

[lovebugism]

Virgin!Eddie thoughts?

THE CUSTOMER'S ALWAYS RIGHT | quid pro quo

summary: eddie muson is a virgin and doesn't want anyone to know (because being an adult who's never fucked anyone is a total reputation ruiner). but you, his favorite customer, are more than willing to change that. pairing: eddie munson / f!reader word count: 6.5k (holy shit this was supposed to be a blurb) warnings: talks of virginity and masturbation, the word "tit" too many times, a handjob (sorta?) 18+ mdni a/n: you asked for thoughts but i had way too many of them for a single post so i might turn this into a whole virgin!eddie series that will only see the light of day if you guys are into this so... no pressure <3

( MASTERLIST ) | ( NEXT )

You were Eddie’s favorite customer, though that went without saying. It was something both of you were more than aware of. Albeit it, it was a little strange, since he — the supplier of your weed — was essentially paying for your high. He doesn’t mind it, though. He never did. You made it up for him in other ways; and, no, it’s not as perverted as it sounds.

It’s actually much, much weirder.

It was your fourth time meeting with him but your first time without any money to give him in exchange. You’re all pink and fidgeting and feeling like a total loser as you shift on the hard wooden bench across from him.

Your gaze is tilted away from his and down at your hands where you twist the rings on your fingers — “I was supposed to get paid last Friday, but my boss is paying me weekly now instead of every two weeks, so he completely changed my payday on me, and he swears he told me about it, but he totally didn’t— anyway, that’s beside the point. I don’t have any money to give you, or like, at all. Genuinely. I’m gonna be lucky if I get to eat anything other than top ramen for the next few days.”

“Damn,” he laughs, not in amusement at your situation but rather pitying you for it. “That sucks—”

“That sounds like I’m guilt-tripping you, doesn’t it?” you keep rambling. “I’m really not. I’m just trying to be honest. I’m not, like, trying to do you over or anything. I swear. You probably don’t even care. You’re my drug dealer, not my friend, I wouldn't blame you if you didn't— I’m making a total fool out of myself, aren’t I?”

“No, not at all,” Eddie assures sincerely, the hint of a smile curling at the corner of his lips. That’s all he can muster. He feels like the fool right about now because your words sting a little harder than intended. 

He always considered you a friend. Or, at least, a whole lot more than just a client. You’re the only customer he has fun with, who he can laugh with, who doesn’t just hang around long enough for him to hand you your drugs like everyone else does, who actually cares enough to make conversation with him.  

Maybe that’s why he chose to give it to you for free that day. 

Because he’s started to grow fond of you (and because he genuinely believes that you’re in a bad way and that money’s a little too tight for you right now. He knows all too well what that’s like.) 

But he asks you for a favor in return when you take the plastic baggie from him. It has him blushing with embarrassment like you’d been just minutes before. He can’t meet your gaze as he says the words, but he can feel the incredulous beam of it piercing holes into him.

“You, Eddie Munson, are willing to give me weed, for free, as long as I… help you pass your next English exam?”

You weren’t repeating it to mock him or to make him feel bad for being a third-year senior. You’re just actually shocked because you know a thing or two about the Munson’s. You know that his Uncle is working two jobs, and his nephew has resorted to drug dealing to compensate for their being strapped for cash. You also know that suppliers giving out anything for free is bad for business, so it’s essentially unheard of. 

And aside from all that, Eddie wanting to study — to want to try to be good at something rather than just winging it and hoping for the best — was almost as surprising as him wanting you to be the one to help him. You literally have Gareth, his best friend, in your English class, and he’s way better at it than you are.

You try to find what makes you somehow special but come up short.

“Is that, like, really weird?” he wonders meekly, scrunching his nose and peering at you through his lashes. His eyes are the color of chocolate syrup, you notice then. Like, exactly. And they have a sort of sheen to them beneath the sun, like he's trapped a star inside of them.

“Yes,” you answer with a laugh that's as light as air. “Considering you could’ve offered literally anything else. Like, I don’t know— groping my tits or something.”

It’s what you were half-expecting. Not because you thought Eddie was that kind of guy, but because that’s how it often went down, at least in porn. A busty (broke) blonde orders a pizza, a man with an enormous dick delivers it… It’s a tale as old as time, really.

Your words make him tense for the second time in five minutes. 

He almost wants to be offended that you’d think of him that way, but his yearning far overpowers his wounded ego.

He’s got a soft heart. That offer never would’ve crossed his mind, and even if it did, he’d never be stupid enough to say it out loud. But he didn’t realize how much he liked you until right then. It wasn’t just a friend caring for another friend, but a boy with a crush on a girl eons out of his league (with boobs he would happily touch if she’d let him).

He clears his throat and irrationally prays that you aren’t a mind reader.

“I’m down if you are,” he answers with a playful lilt to his voice that makes you giggle again. He’s happy to hear it. Your laugh is like being basked in sunshine. He wants to keep it in his pocket when he gets lost in the shade. 

That’s the moment that started it all — the strange friendship that formed out of practically nothing. Who knew what being poor, free weed, an historically low GPA, and a missed opportunity for tit-groping could do to two people?

From then on, all your weed was free. As long as you broke down all the themes in Of Mice and Men for him, of course. And then, when he ultimately aced that paper, he wanted to run his D&D campaign by you — “So, you know, it isn’t totally lame when I show it to the rest of Hellfire.”

“Of course, it’s gonna be lame,” you deadpan from across the rotting bench. “It’s Dungeons and Dragons.”

He goes red at that, a flash of pink blotched around his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. He glows cherry with embarrassment and smiles faintly as he looks down at his hand, fidgeting with his silver skull ring. It’s cute. Too cute. The kind of cute that makes you grin to yourself without even thinking about it.

“I’m kidding, Eds—”

Eds. That was new, the boy remarks to himself. Not the nickname itself, perhaps, but the fact that you were the one calling him by it. You’re getting more comfortable with him. He likes that. It gives him a false hope; that one day he’ll be a friend to you and not just your dealer.

“—It sounds really fun actually,” you assure him with nod and a twinkling gaze that proves you sincere. “As long as you’ll smoke with me during.”

“I don’t really like to use my own product…” That was a lie. Mostly. He didn’t like to smoke his own stuff because that burned a hole into his profits. But that didn’t mean he didn’t do it. It was far too tempting to have a tin full of so much weed never more than just a few inches away.

Now he’s got a pretty girl in front of him, wanting to smoke with him, wanting to spend time with him. Hell’s freezing over as they speak and that certainly calls for a celebratory smoke session.

A smirk pulls at his pink lips and he tilts his head, bringing his ear to his shoulder, as he looks at you with a glimmering umber gaze.

“But I’m willing to make an exception. Just for you.”

Eddie swears you blush at that, but he catches only the shortest glimpse of your crimson cheeks before you duck your gaze to the table. The beam on your face is only half-washed away, however, when you turn up to look at him again. You look shy, almost, as you peer at him through your lashes.

“You’ll basically have to start from scratch too, you know that, right? I don’t know anything about that shit.”

“Well, I’m glad I can be your first,” he quips.

You laugh again. It’s like the pinky-orange of a sunset. He could paint it if he had the right supplies. And a set of hands that were good for things other than rolling die and playing guitar.

It was his first time, really. In every aspect of the phrase.

It was the first time a girl’s ever offered to hang out with him and not the other way around. The first time a customer’s ever offered to share their weed with him. The first time someone’s ever wanted him to explain his favorite hobby and not care that he’s been rambling for the better part of an hour. 

He doesn’t even notice that he hasn’t shut up since he started talking, mostly because you aren’t giving him that look of annoyance people usually have when he hasn’t gotten the hint. Most couldn’t care less about goblins and villains and battles and knights and princesses — princess knights.

It’s more interesting than you ever hoped a board game could be, but less so as enchanting as the glow Eddie’s got about him as he rambles on and on about something that makes him so happy.

He’s beaming and he doesn’t even realize it. He has no idea he could light up an entire solar system with the smile on his face. You’d tell him if it didn’t feel totally inappropriate.

It takes two weeks to perfect the campaign, which isn’t at all long if you compare it to the year it took him to build it from scratch. When the Cult of Vecna (you pat yourself on the back for coming up with the name) is polished and Hellfire worthy, Eddie starts giving you weed... just because.

There’s nothing left for him to offer in exchange. And he isn’t going to turn his favorite customer down for anything.

“What? No tutoring? No D&D campaign?” you wonder with furrowed brows and a face contorted in confusion.

Eddie shrugs and swings the baggie full of greenery back and forth with the tip of his pointed finger. “Nope. I’m passing English and the campaign’s all finished — the guys love it, by the way. Thanks to you. You’ve helped me out with enough shit, so… just take it.”

“Well, now I just feel bad,” you reject with a scrunched nose, displeased at the idea of taking something and not doing anything for it in return. He can hardly afford it to begin with, much less without anything in exchange. “You're basically paying for my weed already. I can’t just take it.”

“You could,” the boy lilts with a sardonic nod. “My hand's getting a little tired here, sweetheart.”

You huff and reach across the bench for the plastic baggie. Your face is still twisted with an absentminded annoyance and your gaze still uncertain. “You sure it’s okay?”

“Yeah. Cross my heart.”

“Fine.”

“Unless groping your tits is still on the table, of course,” he squints playfully over at you and then smiles softly at the recollection of the conversation from many moons ago.

It was supposed to be a joke. But you’re not laughing.

And when you nod at him, he isn’t either.

It’s got him nearly choking on air and sputtering for a response. “No, I was— I was just— It was a joke. I was just kidding.”

“I know. But, I don’t know, I’m down if you are,” you shrug. “That’s what you said before, right?”

And Eddie has no idea what to say to that. Of course, he wants to. There are a billion things he wants to do. He wants to graduate, he wants to play a show at the Madison Square Garden with Corroded Coffin, he wants to bend you over this table and fuck you silly.

He could do all those things if he were a different person, but he wasn’t. He’s just some guy who can’t pass an English class he's already taken three times, with a mediocre band that plays in front of about five drunks (if they’re lucky), who has a crush on a girl who’s offering to let him feel her up for a short-lived high. 

He repeats that last part to himself in his head a couple times. It sounds like a dream he had once. He pinches the skin of his wrist, just to make sure, and winces when it starts to hurt.

It’s real, you’re real, and that’s the scariest part. 

Because he’s never actually seen boobs that weren’t projected from a television screen through the grainy film of a VHS tape, or pictured in a crinkled magazine he stole from a gas station — let alone touched one. And the second he puts his hands on you, and you feel him shaking like a leaf and totally unsure of what to do, you’ll know that. 

That is, if he doesn’t come in his pants first.

He’s terrified that when you do realize that he’s a complete and utter, absolute and proper virgin, you’ll think he’s significantly less cool. And he can’t have that.

It’s bad for clientele. They’ll stop seeing him as the mysterious metalhead from the wrong side of the tracks but rather as some teddy bear who’s never actually been inside a woman.

He could probably handle the potential drop in income and the talks around school. Hell, he could even handle all the shit Jason Carver would spew at him if he knew. But the idea that you’ll stop wanting to hang out with him — he isn’t sure if he could take that.

He doesn’t notice that he hasn’t said a word until you’re speaking again. And even then, it’s all muffled like he’s underwater. 

“I can come over tonight, if you want.”

No, he thinks to himself. That’s far too early. I have to lose my virginity and learn everything there is to possibly know about sex first.

“I... I can’t. Hellfire,” he answers, almost slurring, still caught in a stupor.

“Tomorrow, then,” you challenge at his rejection. You cross your arms and lean over the table as you squint at him. The wind rustling through the trees carries the warmth of your floral-vanilla scent over to him, like a lullaby, or a magic spell.

As though he needed something else to make him all stupid.

Suddenly you're ten feet tall. Eddie feels like an ant. You could crush him if you wanted. You have all the power and the look you give him tells him that you know that. He fidgets on the hard wooden seat but can’t seem to break your stare. His voice is tight and a few octaves higher as he answers — “Yeah. Tomorrow sounds good. Great, even.”

“Cool,” you’re suddenly beaming. You stand from the bench and saunter off, tossing a look and a wave over your shoulder as you shout, “See you tomorrow, Eds!”

He has to jerk off after that one. He counts himself lucky that he made it to his van before he exploded completely.

Eddie has to become a sex god in twenty-four hours and he doesn’t know where to start. 

So, like any master procrastinator, he doesn’t. He just worries about it all night and the following day. He turns himself into a big ball of anxiety (if you touched him, he'd probably shock you) and it’s left him in the sort of worry that doesn’t let him sit still for too long.

Wayne’s sitting in his recliner, trying to eat his late lunch before he heads off to work the graveyard shift. It’s hard to enjoy his sandwich or the latest episode of Miami Vice playing on the television ahead of him when his nephew keeps bouncing in and out of the room. Making brief conversation, rearranging the knickknacks on the coffee table, coming in just to stand in place for a few minutes before leaving again to rustle in other parts of the small trailer. 

At one point, he comes in with the fucking vacuum and nudges at the man’s work boots until he kicks his feet up. Wayne’s never seen him do a chore in his life.

“What the hell has gotten into you today, boy?” the man complains through turkey, cheese, and bread.

“Nothing. What are you talking about? I’m perfectly normal.”

He’s never been normal a day in his life either.

Eddie disappears out of the room a second later with the whirring of the vacuum in tow. Wayne shakes his head to himself. “Boy’s gonna be the death of me,” he mumbles and takes another too large bite.

It’s unlike Eddie not to tell his uncle things, especially things weighing so heavy on his chest that they're starting to feel like pure steel. But his uncle doesn’t ask any questions, and Eddie’s grateful.

How the hell is he supposed to tell Wayne that a cute girl is coming over and that he’s jacked off three times at the thought of her?

Once in his bed, the first thing he did that day when he woke up from a dream about you that felt a little too real; the second in the shower when the cold water wouldn’t kill the boner he’d gotten; and the third in his bedroom, in the shirt he’d peeled off hardly ten minutes beforehand when he got into a bath. It made him feel dirty again though his skin was perfectly clean.

Wayne would think he was joking. At least with the “cute girl” part. He’d probably pat him on the back for the second one — “oh, to be young again,” he'd mumble to himself while simultaneously deciding to leave well enough alone.

Eddie’s so nervous he doesn’t know what to do with himself. 

You’ve got him practicing what to do in the mirror, trying to plan the conversation, ironing out the wrinkles of what might happen. “Hi—” he starts but then shakes his head and clears his throat. His voice is deeper as he continues, “Hey, how are you doing? Oh, that’s cool, I’m good too— shit, this is so fucking lame.”

He wonders how you’ll go about it. If you’ll offer first, or if he needs to ask. If you’ll make small talk or if you’ll just straight up take off your shirt. He’d take either, honestly.

He jerks off one more time, just for good measure, after Wayne’s left for work. He’s already tired and his dick is practically raw with how much it’s been tugged at, but he hopes it’ll stop him from getting hard the second you walk through the door. And he figures with the amount he’s come that day, he’s a whole less likely to do it in his pants when he touches you.

You knock on the door at 7 o’clock sharp, like you planned it down to the minute.

He straightens out his leather jacket when he stands abruptly from the couch. He rushes to the door and then hesitates with his hand on the rusted brass handle — because he doesn’t want to seem too eager, right? 

He leans to the side to look in the dirty glass mirror hanging by the coat rack, brushing through his curly locks in attempts to tame them. Then he shakes his head so they’re wild again.

He finds you standing on his porch in a tight-black sweater that dips down at your chest; the pendant of your necklace sparkles under the yellow nightlight perched on the outside wall. It’s paired with a white nylon skirt that stops at your thigh.

He’s only seen girls on TV in the suede boots you’re wearing — the kind that’s tight up to your ankle with a short and chunky heel. They match the color of your skirt. He wonders if they were expensive and how much you’ve worn them; they look brand new, like you’ve brought them down from the top of your closet just for him.

You’ve got a stack of thick tapes in one hand and a brown paper bag of snacks in the other.

“What… What’s all this?” he wonders, not displeased at your effort but shocked by it nonetheless.

“Thought we could have a movie night,” you shrug then slide by him and into the trailer. He shuts the door behind you and watches from afar as you set the sack down. It’s not quite flat on the bottom so it topples over and spills some of its content onto the coffee table — red hot chips and sour gummy worms.

“You mentioned that you’d never seen Fast Times a couple weeks ago, so I decided to go rent a copy at Family Video, right? And then I started talking to Robin and she started showing me all the new movies that just came in, so I got a little carried away—”

You're rambling, he notices, almost like you’re nervous.

It makes him feel slightly better, knowing this obviously wasn’t your first time hanging out with a guy (or being touched by one, if he ever got to that part), but that you were nervous nonetheless. Like you wanted this — whatever this was — to go well just as much as he did.

Eddie puts the tape into the VHS player when you’re headed back from the kitchen with a bowl of popcorn in hand. You sit it on the table before plopping yourself in the middle of the couch — the boy across the living room has no idea you spent the two-and-a-half minutes it took to cook the snack debating on where to sit.

You feared sitting too far on one side might spook him from sitting next to you, that he’d think you didn’t want to sit next to him. So you place yourself snuggly in the middle of the decade-old sofa and hope you don’t seem too eager.

Your heart sinks to your ass when Eddie sits so far on the edge he’s practically sitting on the arm of it.

You muster a smile and try to make a joke of it. “I don’t have cooties or anything, Eds.”

“Promise?” he lilts. The way his voice shakes is purely for comedic effect. Obviously.

“Cross my heart.”

He hopes that by playing it off, you won’t notice how anxious he is about sitting next to you. But when he plants himself beside you, just close enough so that the rough fabric of his jeans scratches your knee every time he fidgets, it’s a little like sitting next to a rock. You spend the first half of the movie wondering if he’s nervous too or if he really just didn’t want to sit this close to you.

The film keeps playing and he keeps snacking — eating chips and Oreos and popcorn in a rotation before combining all three and marveling at the taste; “You’ve got to try this!” he exclaims to you with raised brows and wide eyes. He eventually forgets to be nervous.

That is, until Fast Times hits 53 minutes and 5 seconds.

The smooth bass of Moving in Stereo plays lowly in the background as Phoebe Cates rises from the pool water, clad in a small red bikini. The chlorine-laced drops of water glisten off of her tanned skin. “Hi, Brad. You know how cute I always thought you were,” you quote quietly along with her.

Your eyes are as glued to the television as Eddie’s when she starts to unlatch her top, like it’s the first time you’re seeing it too. You joked to Robin once that you couldn't wait until they made this movie in 3D.

Eddie gets hard as a rock, then. In every sense of the phrase.

“She’s hot, right?” you ask him.

“Yeah,” he answers. He clears his throat when the word comes out too tight. “Totally.”

“That’s how I knew Robin was gay, you know? We watched this when I slept over at her house one time and I woke up in the middle of the night and found her playing this scene over and over again,” you confess with a laugh and hope your best friend won’t be too angry you told him this. “She was sitting, like, two inches away from the screen.”

“Really?”

“Mhm. And when we made out afterward, that really sealed the deal—”

“Holy shit—” he sputters before he can stop it. “—Are you joking?”

Please, say yes before I come in my jeans, he thinks to himself.

“Why?” you challenge, shooting him an arched brow over your shoulder. “Does that change anything?”

“What? No! Of— Of course not!” It just makes you, like, ten times fucking hotter, that’s all.

“Good,” you nod and then turn back to the television. You move on quickly, and Eddie’s grateful. You keep telling the story like it’s one you tell all your friends.

“I asked her why she was watching it without me, and she said she got bored, but I already knew why she was watching it, you know? I guess I just wanted to hear her say it. So I just came out with it — ‘If you want to look at a pair of tits, I’m literally right here.’”

Eddie’s so entranced by your words it’s like you're telling him a bedtime story. He’s looking at you so intently, his gaze locked to your profile like he’s trying to commit it to memory. And when you finally turn to look at him again, he can’t seem to turn away, to even pretend like he wasn’t just hopelessly staring at you.

“So, then it became this whole thing, right? Like, I’ll show mine if you show yours. And then she got all awkward and nervous and lost in her head, kinda like you right now, and then I leaned in…” you trail off quietly, doing it in time as the words leave your mouth. So teasingly and breathtakingly slow. Eddie finds himself drifting closer to you, too, like a bayman to a siren’s call. “Just like this… And then I—”

You don’t have a chance to finish your sentence.

Eddie’s already kissing you before he realizes what he’s doing. Your noses knock together, the tip of his crushed against the side of yours. The sweet flavor of your strawberry chapstick evades his mouth when your lips press together.

He’s as shocked as you are.

He’s wanted to kiss many pretty girls in his life, but this was the first time he's actually ever done it.

You feel his face burn red against you when he realizes what he’s just done. He tries to pull away from you, but you keep him there with a hand on the back of his head; deepening the kiss and telling him that you want this — that you’ve always wanted this — without actually saying the words.

Refusing to separate from him, you maneuver yourself to face him more as press yourself against his side and tuck your knees beneath you. You caress the rough pad of his tongue with yours all the while, one hand balled in the shoulder of his t-shirt and the other anchoring itself to his curls.

You wait patiently for him to take action. To grip your waist. To lay you back on the couch. To climb over you and take what’s his.

He never does.

He hardly even touches you. He’s got one palm on your hip, but it’s so featherlight that it’s barely even there. His other hand is clutching the pillow on his lap with a white-knuckled grip, like he’s fighting to contain himself in some way. But you want him to let go. To lose himself with you.

The cushion had been there for most of the movie, something to keep in his absentminded hold and get crumbs all over. You wonder, now, if it’s a shield for something else.

Your lips click wetly when you part from him. A small smile forms on your mouth when you notice a string of spit threatening to connect the both of you. It breaks apart, landing cold below your mouth, and you wipe it away with the back of your hand.

“Are you hard?”’ you wonder through bated breaths, coming right and just saying it.

Eddie’s eyes go somehow wider and his mouth falls agape. “Uh… No?”

Giggling, you ask, “Is that a question?”

“Maybe.”

“So what’s the answer?” you pry.

“Honestly?” he starts with a heavy breath and heavier eyes, still trying to joke. “Whatever makes me sound super cool and mysterious and sexy.”

“I’ve always thought you were all those things,” you confess with a soft laugh, twisting a strand of his hair with the tip of your finger.

“…Really?” he can’t help but wonder. Those words are about the most shocking thing that’s happened so far this evening.

“Yeah,” you nod, then tease: “Because you've never lied to me.”

So tell me the truth, he can hear the words jumbling around in your head. So does. He swallows thickly and then admits, voice cracking halfway through his confession, “I’m so hard that it fucking hurts, sweetheart.”

You’re smiling like the Chesire Cat at that, big and sly and mischievous. You have all the power and you know it.

“Can I make you feel better?” you whisper to him, lilting like you're taunting him. You mean it, though, and he knows that because you’re already tugging at the pillow in his lap. You don’t fight to snatch it away completely. You leave just enough room to allow him to say no. But his grip on the thing relaxes and allows you to slide the cushion slowly from his crotch.

He can’t say the words because his tongue is suddenly heavy in his mouth and his throat is closing on him. So he just nods, peering at you with eyes hooded with ecstasy.

You go back to kissing him, then, unhurriedly this time. You allow yourself to feel all of him, to hold his face in your hands and explore all the bits of him you never got the chance to before now. You do it more so in an effort to get him to relax, to forget to be nervous, but it only half-works.

He gets more comfortable with himself with time. The hand on your waist finds a more confident purchase there and the other climbs up to your face, cradling your jaw while his ringed fingers get lost in the strands of your hair. Then he starts to kiss you back harder, more earnestly than before, like he’s trying to prove something. Trying to tell you everything like this than with words he can’t seem to say out loud.

He forgets to be nervous again when your lips fit together like pieces of a puzzle — the kind with the funky edges, the kind you know goes together because there’s only two in the whole bunch like it. He stops worrying if he’s doing it right.

His breath is warm and heavy as it fans against your cupid’s bow. He’d rather take in small pieces of oxygen like this than stop kissing you now. You feel the same way as you straddle his thigh, careful not to move with too much haste that it knocks your lips apart.

Eddie’s legs part for you on instinct. When you settle more comfortably against him, he can feel the warmth radiating between your thighs through the thick fabric of his jeans. He wishes he was naked right now, more so that you were, so he can feel all of you, bare against his skin.

But he takes what he can get for now. And tries not to burst completely at the thought that the only thing separating you from him was the thin layer of your cotton underwear.

It’s hard not to think about your own pleasure like this. You could so easily move your hips against his thigh, let the rugged fabric of his jeans and your panties do all the work against your clit and bring you to a swift release. You want to. You’re sure Eddie would want you to if you asked him. But it strangely seems less important now.

Because you know you’re minutes away from making Eddie come so hard his legs shake. And you always wanted to know what he looked like when he came.

Your hand worms out of his hair and down his neck. Your fingernails trail lightly over his skin, leaving visible chill bumps in their wake. Your palm falls down his chest and stomach, smooth like drops of summer rain. The print of his Def Leppard tee is rough and cracked with age. You wonder how long he’s had it, how often he’s worn it, as your hand settles again. This time on his belt.

For a split second, he’s anxious about you seeing his dick. What if you think it’s too small? He thinks to himself. What if you think it’s too ugly? But then he realizes you’re not even trying to take off his jeans. You just rest your palm over the rough material of the denim and grip him through it.

A groan crawls up his throat and out of his mouth. His head falls backward and lands against the back of the couch.

He’s bigger than you thought, and warm against the tender skin of your hand, even through his boxers and his pants. It’d be ever warmer if you were feeling the real thing, you discern, but you figure you’ll save that for another time. Because even though it’s not the real thing and there are so many layers separating your fingers from his cock, Eddie’s letting out small and breathy moans that tell you that you’re touching him just right. The more you squeeze, the louder he gets.

“Is this okay?” you whisper to him.

“Are you kidding?” he retorts with a breathless laugh. “I feel like I’m in heaven right now.”

“Just wait until you come,” you giggle. It makes him moan again. His eyes fall shut because he knows he’s moments away from feeling what it’s like — not to come, obviously, but for it to be from your hand and not his. 

You massage him through his jeans, feeling him grow somehow harder with each caress of your fingers. Peering down at him, you can see his jaw clenching, the way it moves his temples, and the muscles in his neck straining as he climbs the peak of pleasure.

“If you think this feels good now, just wait until you're inside me,” you purr to him.

“Oh, fuck,” he drawls shakily at your words. He doesn’t know if you’re being serious or not. He wants so much to believe that it’s a promise, though. The idea that he could unbuckle his belt right now, free his cock from its restraints and slip your panties to the side and take you, just like this, with you on top of him and riding him for all he’s worth, that nearly does him in.

But he’s fighting to keep it at bay. To let this moment last as long as he can. Because it’s entirely likely that he’ll come and you’ll never want to do this again. It’s even more likely that he’ll wake up from this way too vivid fantasy he’s concocted in his brain. How good can dreams get until they’re nightmares again?

The hand on your hip darts to wrap around your wrist.

“What’s wrong?” you ask him, gaze sober and sincere.

Eddie breathes out a tremble sigh of relief when you slow your motions against him. “I just…” he breathes heavily. And swallows. “I really don’t want to come in my jeans.”

You’re smiling again at that, pleased at how good you're making him feel. Like the pleasure is foreign to him. He can feel your grin as you lean down to kiss him. It’s a chaste peck, like you're just sprinkling yourself there so it can linger the rest of the night. 

Your kiss is far more fervent against his neck, wetter and more passionate. His skin has a faint taste of salt, like he’d been sweating. And he was, for the entire day that he anticipated your arrival, though there was never an ounce of him expecting this. You bite at the strained tendon and marvel as he shudders beneath you.

“It’s okay,” you leave your promise against his skin. “I’ll wash them for you after. Like a good little housewife—”

It was a joke and he knows it because you’re laughing at the absurdity of your words, at the reality of them. You’re probably the only person in the world giving your drug dealer a handjob for free weed and then offering to wash his damp bottoms when he comes in them — calling yourself his fucking housewife. But, for a reason he can’t explain, that’s what gets him.

Not marrying you, perhaps, but the idea that he could have this feeling forever. That you could bring him to complete and utter, blinding bliss and then take care of him while he comes back to earth. 

You give him an especially tough squeeze that sends a moan spilling roughly from his throat. His hips jerk up to their own according, his thigh jamming into your clothed pussy — he swears he hears you moan — and his toes curl in his boots.

He doesn’t let go of your hand as he comes. He grasps your wrist and presses you further against him. His grip is almost too tight but you don’t mind it, not when you can feel the denim growing damp with the evidence of his orgasm.

Eddie doesn’t feel anything for a while after that. It’s just pure pleasure for several long moments. The fuzziness of his climax, your hand pressed against him, your warmth still pressed against his thigh.

But then the high fades away like a rolling summer cloud and he starts to feel the wet patch forming in his clothes. The fabric of his thin boxer starts to stick to him and he almost feels gross, like he’s a teenager again who can’t so much as look at a woman with needing to come.

But then he sees the way you look at him, grinning like a cat who got the cream — because, in some ways, you are. You look like you're proud of him. Like you’re secretly wondering how many times you can do that before it’s too much. He wants to find out too.

You plant another kiss to his lips. Just because you can.

“Take your pants off, Munson,” you mumble against his mouth, kissing him one more time for good measure before pulling away again.

“Oh— shit— wait, really?” he sputters. “I thought you were joking about— about me being… I— I don’t know if I have any condoms.”

He totally does, in an unopened box under his bed, collecting dust. 

You don’t need to know that, though.

“I meant for washing them so you can change,” you laugh at his embarrassment. The sound somehow makes him feel better even though you’re slightly making fun of him. You shrug and arch a brow at him, lilting, “But… I’m down if you are.”

have any more virgin!eddie thoughts? or just thoughts about my writing/requests in general? leave them here if you want! ꒰◍ᐡᐤᐡ◍꒱

#stranger things imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #stranger things x reader #virgin!eddie munson #virgin!eddie munson x reader #st oneshots <3 #published by bug

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

bestie i can’t stop thinking about aemond being super into overstimming his partner i’m begging you to write smthn about it

You sent this in June, and I am so, so sorry! I hope you've hung in there and that this was worth the wait.

Warnings: Smut, overstimulation, slight dubcon, dacryphilia. Word count: ~800

Aemond rolls off of her, slipping out of her as his cock softens, his breathing heavy, utterly spent.

His wife is quick to snuggle against him, the light perspiration of her flesh mixing with his own, warming his side as her fingertips trail delicately over the planes of his chest as it rises and falls with rapidity.

He wraps an arm around her and already she is pressing herself against him like a feline in heat, her hips canting against his thigh as she looks up at him through hooded eyes.

Wanton little thing.

He hums lowly, stroking her hair away from her temple and regarding her with a smirk. "Has your husband not sated you, sweet wife?"

"Mmmm...he has," she says softly, "but I simply cannot get enough."

"You are insatiable," he murmurs, "I shall need a moment to recover though."

"I do not," she quips with a mischievous smile.

Aemond raises an eyebrow in curiosity. "What do you mean?"

"Women do not need to recover between peaks in the same way that men do. We can reach fulfilment multiple times without the need for rest," she tells him.

He considers this, eyeing her face carefully as he traces her jawline with his forefinger. "And how many times are you able to peak?"

She shrugs lightly. "I am unsure."

Aemond pulls away, sitting up on his haunches before dragging her towards him by her thighs.

She squeals in protest, clinging to the sheets. "What are you doing?" She asks, eyes wide.

"Finding out for myself," he says matter of factly, eye fixated on the slick of her cunny, pearlescent drops of his spend leaking from it.

He gathers it between his forefingers, spreading it through her folds, causing her hips to jerk as she whines. He circles her pearl, applying the slightest pressure and she shudders.

"It--it is too much," she whimpers, attempting to angle her hips away from him.

He brings his palm down sharply between her legs, creating a loud slap, and she yelps.

"You wished to boast about how many times you are able to peak," he says, his tone mocking. "I would hate to think that my pretty little wife is a liar, so allow me the courtesy of giving you the pleasure you were so desperate for."

Aemond's gaze darkens as he resumes his ministrations against her bud, watching her splayed out beneath him, eyes glossy and lips parted as she mewls piteously.

Her hips buck, her face contorting in a mixture of pain and pleasure, and he knows she has reached her end as she cries out, body shuddering as arousal leaks from her, wetting the sheet beneath them.

"That's two," he says impassively, moving his fingers away from her sensitive bundle of nerves when he notices how she twitches and spasms at his touch. "Let's try something different for your third."

"Aemond, please, I cannot take anymore," she pleads with him.

"But I am a dutiful husband, and I will not leave you wanting for anything," he slips two fingers inside of her, his breath catching as he feels the warmth and wetness of her body welcome his intrusion, gripping him tightly. "I feel how much you want me."

He crooks his fingers upwards, seeking out the spot inside of her that he usually aims to nudge against when he ruts into her, knowing it brings her pleasure.

He feels it; soft, spongy and yet slightly rougher feeling than the rest of her.

There it is.

He focuses all of his attention on that, pumping his fingertips against it, listening intently as the cadence of his wife's moans and cries of ecstasy grow louder and more intense.

Tears form along her lash line, before rapidly spilling over, rolling down her cheeks. He reaches out his free hand, wiping them away with his thumb before swiping it against her bottom lip, enjoying how utterly submissive she looks in this moment.

The very idea that he can hurt her, control her, all the while making her feel dizzying gratification causes his manhood to begin to stir again. He feels himself grow painfully hard as she clenches ceaselessly around his digits, on the verge of toppling over the edge and he speeds up his movements until he brings her to release again.

Her entire body is trembling as he withdraws his fingers, her voice hoarse. "Please," she whispers, "no more."

Aemond nods, a malicious smile tugging at his lips as he moves to hover over her.

"But it appears I am now recovered, little one, and it would be selfish of you to find release three times, but deny me a second. So, you will be good for me, and you will take it, won't you?"

He pushes back inside as he sees her nod weakly. "There's a good girl."

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond x reader #aemond x you #aemond x y/n #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond smut #aemond imagine #aemond one eye #pro aemond targaryen #aemond stannies #hotd aemond #aemond #aemond targaryen #hotd #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen fan fiction #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen fan fic #hotd smut #hotd fan fiction #hotd fanfiction #hotd fanfic #hotd fan fic #prince aemond targaryen

[undertheorangetree]

La Petite Mort (Ptolemaea)

Summary- Aemond has waited generations for this moment and he will not let it slip through his fingers.

Warnings- MDNI 18+ DDDNE. DUBCON. NSFW. Female reader. Dark Aemond. Blood. Gore. Kidnapping. Obsessive behaviour. Vampire mind control? Reincarnation. Biting. Vampire venom makes you horny. Fingering. Cunnilingus. P in V sex. Overstimulation. Technically character death. This is unhinged.

Author’s Note- It’s a spooky season special and I’m so nervous about this one besties. I know that vampire Aemond is a whole thing but it’s a thing for a reason that’s just his vibe. This is darker than usual so plz read the warnings and read at your own risk. Also special thanks to @aegonx for beta-ing for me ilysm🫶🏼The rest is on AO3 link belowww

dividers by me lmao

She knows she's screwed when her car breaks down in the middle of nowhere, but her phone battery dying all but confirms it.

Throwing it into the passenger seat with a guttural sigh, she drops her head into her hands and fights the urge to start crying in frustration. She knew that traveling at night was a bad idea but she had managed to talk herself out of her worries, convincing herself that she would be able to make good time with so few cars on the road. She regrets it now, stranded on the shoulder of some half abandoned backroad, no other people or cars in sight. The rain is coming down in buckets, heavy enough that she's surprised that it hasn't yet flooded the street, raindrops pounding on the roof of her car like a drum.

There isn't so much as a porch light back here. Nothing but heavy forest that makes her feel as if she is lost in time and she is sure the longer she is alone, the more likely her mind is to play tricks on her.

She flicks on her hazard lights as she tries to decide what best to do. Staying in her car seems unsafe somehow, stuck on the shoulder of the road beside a corner. Though the street is empty now, another car will show up at some point and she can already see the inevitable car crash in her mind's eye. But leaving the safety of her car seems just as bad.

She doesn't know what's in the surrounding woods and with visibility as bad as it is now, with the rain coming down and the moon just barely able to provide some semblance of light, there is no truly safe option.

There are no nearby homes. No other cars. No payphones or a way to charge her own phone. She is completely and hopelessly stuck.

Though she knows it's pointless, she still reaches for her phone, holding down on the power button in vain. The empty battery graphic flashes up at her, the charging cable beneath it feeling almost mocking now and grunts angrily, throwing it to the side again. But just as she is about to resign herself to a night of sleeping in her car until morning, there is a flash of headlights in her rearview mirror. She pokes her head up, eyebrows furrowed as she turns and watches a car slow until their window is equal to hers, the glass rolling down.

A man's face greets her, one that seems to be about her age. His face is contorted with vague concern as he looks at her, an eyepatch concealing a third of his face. He has a kind of air about him, regal and almost ethereal to the point where it's almost unsettling. It's nearly otherworldly in a way that almost feels... wrong.

Looking at him, she feels a primal lurch in her stomach, as if the man before her isn't quite right. It's no wonder she feels that way, with his near flawless skin and silver hair that must cost a fortune to dye. That's likely no problem, with how expensive his car looks. She thinks it must cost at least four times her own but she's thankful for just how ancient her car is now, rolling the manual crank until there is a large enough crack for her to speak, the rain immediately splattering inside and wetting both her door and face.

"Car trouble?" he asks and she forces a polite smile despite her irritation at her predicament.

"Unfortunately. Do you know if there's a gas station nearby?"

She had already been to a gas station this evening, less than an hour ago. Though her car had shown no signs of betrayal when she had been filling her gas tank, she thinks that it may be too far to walk to now.

The concern on his face morphs into sympathy. "None that will be open so late. Do you know what's wrong with it?"

She gives a frustrated shake of her head. "No idea. It was completely fine and then it just started sputtering and crapped out."

"Have you called a tow truck yet?"

The question makes her pause. As polite as this man has been thus far, she has no interest in informing him that her phone is dead. And though he has given her no reason to think otherwise, his line of questioning is beginning to border on a few too many to be seen as simple concern for a stranger. She wants to believe that is all it is but he's looking at her a little too earnestly for her to ignore, his eyes following her every move as if the rain threatens to shield his view.

"Not yet. I was going to try some friends first, try to save some money. They don't live far from here so I shouldn't have to wait long."

That’s a boldfaced lie but he doesn’t need to know that.

"I wouldn't leave your car here for long if I were you," he warns, turning to look over his shoulder toward the corner. "It would be best to call a tow truck to really save yourself some money. You'll have a couple thousand in damages if you leave it here."

Read the rest here

#Aemond targaryen x reader #Aemond x reader #Aemond targaryen x you #aemond x you #aemond targaryen x fem!reader #aemond x fem!reader #vampire!aemond #aemond targaryen #aemond smut #aemond targaryen smut #hotd #hotd fanfic #hotd x reader #hotd smut #house of the dragon

[sweetadonisbutbetter]

Good day to you, I adore your stories and it would be interesting to read fan fiction about the Hotel Hazbin Adam×Reader | woman| as Adam's third wife who is pregnant with his child, what will be his actions before birth and after, if it seems strange to you, then you can not write or not respond to my request, I will not be offended💗) Have a nice day/evening Sorry for my bad English, I'm Spanish;^

RAHHH THANK UOU SMM ☹️☹️ it’s not strange to me i would love to write this 😁😁 also yr english is perfect!!! i will write this as if they were in heaven, so it’s a little more shocking, and it will be a mix of a fic and headcanons

New Life, even after Death | Adam x AFAB!Pregnant!Reader

Relationship: Romantic Warnings: MENTIONS OF (PAST) ABUSE!! it is a brief mention and doesn't carry much weight but it is there regardless. Mentions of pregancy and birth, light NSFW, Adam being Adam

You needed to check if your eyes were seeing things correctly, or if you needed glasses. After all, there wasn’t any way that you were seeing two lines. You stared at it for a moment, unsure of what to do. After a moment, you snapped out of it before hurriedly grabbing the other test that sat on the counter and using it.

Now you had 7 tests in front of you, all with two pink lines on the little screen. You were holding the last one, waiting with anticipation to see what it would say. However, you knew what it was going to say, the previous ones had the same response. You had to face the reality that you were pregnant.

You are pregnant.

You were wracking your brain as to how this could be possible. You were in the afterlife, there was no way you could be pregnant. Not that you weren't overjoyed, you were elated. In life, you had trouble conceiving, much to your disappointment. It seemed that your husband at the time was also disappointed, killing you after your nth attempt and nothing to show for it. In your final moment, you couldn't help but feel a bit relieved, thankful that you had never had children with that man, in fear that he would do the same to them. After passing with no biological children of your own, you had grown to accept that you wouldn't ever have any.

When you first entered heaven, you were uneasy with how many children's souls there were. However, with time, you grew to enjoy the company of them. Playing with them while on your way to places or when you had the time, before either you had to leave or they were called out too. It warmed your heart and helped heal that small part of you that mourned never having kids. It helped you strive to be better and to experience the joys of being a mother. It was also how you had met your current husband, Adam.

You have no idea how it happened; one moment one of the children was introducing you to the first man, next thing you know, you were walking down the aisle with him standing at the end. You weren't one to complain, he was so sweet and patient with you. He was the first one you told your past to, from your childhood to your trouble conceiving, to even your terrible first husband. He held you tight as you cried and recounted the last half of your life. In turn, he told you of his life on earth. His life was like being married twice, and raising his kids and ancestors. His favorite pastime was watching humanity, the small acts of kindness from one person to another.

Of course, he had his faults, he was human. He would mock and laugh when people did stupid things. When someone he saw as not worth his time, he was known to wave them off without much thought. He would get angry over the smallest of things, and throw small tantrums when he didn't go away. Ever clingy when there was another male, in fear of losing you much like he did both of Lilith and Eve. You could list all his faults and flaws, yes, however, you could also list his virtues. 

All in all, you loved your husband and knew that he loved you in return. It seemed that now, you both would have something to love just as much. You dragged yourself out of your thoughts as you looked down at the test, seeing that it had the results.

You stood in the bathroom that you shared with Adam, holding the final pregnancy test as it showed the same results; the same two pink lines that repeated over each test. Overwhelmed at the prospect of having a child now,  you fell to your knees as tears began to build up in your eyes. You were going to have a baby.

A baby. 

The thought became overwhelming and you sank into a full-on sob. There you were on your shared bathroom floor, crying like a baby as your wings were wrapped around you, doing your best to soothe yourself. Clutching the pregnancy test to your chest, you hunched over so that your stomach was touching your knees. You were so happy, so sad, so confused at the whole thing that once you finished crying, you just sat there for a while, staring at the wall. You were so out of it that you didn’t hear the knocking at the door or someone walking in. 

“Hey sorry to barge in but Adam is looking for yo-oh.” A voice snapped you out. You turn to the voice and see Lute, still fresh in her exterminator outfit. Once she gets a good look at your face, she tenses for a moment, before dropping her weapon and rushing to your side. “Hey- is..is everything alright? What happened?”

Unable to say anything, you pull the test away from your chest, showing Lute. She took a moment, looking at you weirdly before taking it. After a while, her eyes widened as she turned to you.

“How?” She questioned, to which you could only sob-laugh in response. She didn’t say anything, just looking at the test that was still in her hands. You both sat there on the floor for a while, before another voice rang out in the house. 

“Hey, sugar tits. I’m home.” Shuffling came from the front of the house as you and Lute shot up, looking at one another. Both of you scramble to your feet and leave the bathroom, grabbing all the numerous tests and taking the one from Lute. “Damn. Where the fuck is she? She normally runs to greet me.”

Lute picks up her weapon and leaves the bathroom first. She hesitates for a moment, looking back at you with a twinge of concern, to which you nod, assuring her to go ahead. 

“Go ahead. I just…need to gather my bearings first.” She nods and leaves. As she leaves, you hear Adam begin to question her. Now alone in the bathroom once more for a few moments, you do your best to make it look like you weren’t sobbing your eyes out and figure out how to tell him.

You can’t help but think of his reaction. Would he be happy? Upset? You couldn’t fathom the idea of him getting upset, recounting his stories of when he took care of his firstborn. The fondness that was not only in his tone but also in his face showed that he did enjoy being a father. However, it had been over a millennia since he took care of a baby. Would he even want kids? You shake the thought and take in a deep, albeit shaky, breath. Leaving the bathroom and going to the front of your home, there you saw Adam. He stood by the front door, his mask removed and looking entirely bored of the conversation he was currently having with Lute. His eyes lazily move across the room before they land on you, he seemingly brightens before ignoring Lute and running to you. He grabs you by your side, spinning you before pulling you into a kiss. 

Startled by his reaction at first, it took you a moment before you returned the kiss. Placing one arm is thrown over his shoulder while the other flies to his hair, gripping it.  You make sure to keep the test firm in your grasp and not drop any. Feeling him smirk into the kiss, he begins to nip at your lip, attempting to deepen the kiss. You hear Lute clear her throat, stopping both you and Adam from furthering the kiss. Adam smacks his teeth in annoyance, looking at Lute.

“What? Can’t you see I am greeting my beautiful wife?” He says, squeezing you a little closer to him. Lute rolls her eyes before looking at you at the hand that had 7 tests back to you. You don’t say anything but instead smile softly at her, assuring her she can leave.  She nods to you, taking her leave. With Lute gone, Adam smirks, before looking at you and snuggling his face into your neck. Giggling at the feeling of his stubble tickling your cheek, you pull him away by his hair. He grunts softly, the tug not too painful for him. You spend a moment looking at him, smiling at the look of your husband as you swear he has hearts in his eyes. You opened your mouth with the intent to greet him, however it seemed that your voice didn’t agree with what you wanted. 

“I’m pregnant.” 

Once again, it takes a moment before Adam responded.

“What?”

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

He passes out lol

He was not expecting that information after coming back from an extermination

Once he wakes up, you hand him the various tests, all showing that you are indeed pregnant

Very confused as to how you are pregnant like you both are dead? nothing should be working as it would

You both go to the seraphim and ask if they know what is going on

They don't lol

If anything, they are the MOST confused as to how this is happening

After the initial confusion, Adam is overjoyed to be a father again!

Literally tells everyone he talks to in any manner

"HEY FUCKFACE I GOT MY WIFE PREGNANT!" "Adam. That's the mailman." "HE NEEDS TO KNOW-" "Sweetie, no-"

In other words, word spreads fast.

Before you know it, all of heaven is literally congratulating you when you step out of your house

A lot of glaring at Adam, who just smiles and acts all innocent

Now that he knows, say bye-bye to independence.

Of course, he will give you space when you need it, but if you don't say anything he is most definitely hovering over you.

In your first trimester, he isn't as clingy, actually the most laid back throughout the entirety of your pregnancy.

Second and Third are his worst phases, never leaving your side at ALL- literally walked into the women's restroom after you (you promptly kicked him out, stating you just needed to piss)

When you start to show, he coos at your stomach, touches it, and sings rock songs to it.

Also will get you clothing that pronounces your pregnant belly

sure he would get you loose, more comfortable clothing too, but literally is so obsessed with your belly 

Compliments you all the time, rubs you from head to toe when you ask

Coaxes and reassures you that he loves you, even as your body changes 

Speaking of body changing: boobs

He will grow more obsessed with your boobs as they grow bigger from the milk

Will ask you numerous times throughout and post-pregnancy if he can drink from them 

Kinda won’t stop until you cave, he just wants to try it so bad. The last time he dealt with a pregnant woman, was Eve and at that time he didn’t even know it was an OPTION. so seriously heaven-bent on trying it

His other kids, the ones he had with Eve, are elated to have a new half-sibling. 

Because of this, when you throw a parent shower (You and Adam elected to be surprised for the gender), you gain a ton of stuff. Somehow got 3 strollers, a huge chunk of clothing for about the first 1.5 years of the baby's life, and a lot of toys. 

The seraphims even went and gave you a personal gift for you and you alone.

Even with all the preparation, when your water broke, Adam was NOT prepared in the slightest.

Panicked and forgot all the important stuff while you were hunched over, holding your tummy as you waited to be fully dilated. 

You had a private room to yourself to give birth, Adam by your side the whole time, a worried look on his face. He remembered when Eve gave birth, the pain and fear on her face mirrored that of yours.

However, in the end, everything was alright.

After squeezing the life out of Adam’s hand, most likely cutting off all circulation in it, you gave birth to a little girl.

Adam was beyond elated, loving his little girl so much even though she was covered in vernix, blood, and mucus.

Having mainly sons, anytime his daughters just existed in front of him, he couldn’t help but be elated at their existence. 

Couldn’t wait to hold his daughter and feel her tiny hand wrapped around his finger

Not that he wasn’t checking up on you the whole time, he was.

When the doctor and nurses who helped deliver his daughter whisked her away to clean her, his attention was solely on you

Murmuring against your skin, telling you how great you did, how lovely of a job you did, and overall praising you and making sure you were okay.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

“She’s okay?” You say, panting and entirely exhausted. He nodded and kissed your forehead. 

“She is perfectly fine. What about you mamas? How are you?” He asked, wiping the hair that clung to your sweaty forehead. You could only nod as you tried to catch your breath. He smiles, relieved that you are okay.

You both stay there for a while while waiting for the doctor to come back. While waiting, you can’t help but think of how surreal this all was. You were finally having your baby, after your whole living life of wanting one, praying, and getting nothing in return. But now? You were watching the door for the doctor or nurse to walk in at any moment with your little girl, as your husband held your hand and stroked your hair. 

Eventually, a nurse entered the room, with a small bundle of pink and purple. Adam stayed by your side as the nurse made his way to your side, handing your baby to you.

“She is perfectly healthy. Just wanting mom at the moment.” He says before leaving you, your daughter, and Adam. Holding her in your arms was a type of bliss you couldn’t help but tear up over. Here she was, your joy, the love of your life, your world, planet, and stars. Tears slip out as you kiss her forehead, the feeling of her wispy hair tickling your lips.

“She looks like you.” Adam softly says after a moment. You look at him and see he has the look of utter softness and love on his face. You smile in return, tears still running down your cheek.

“What? She just came out? I don’t think she looks like anyone just yet.” You say as Adam presses his hand against your cheek, wiping away some of your tears with his thumb. 

“I know. But if she is anything like you, I just know she is going to light up the whole afterlife.” 

You sob a little more, putting your hand over his and close your eyes. 

“How did I get so lucky?”

“I think I am the one that got lucky,” Adam says, causing you to open your eyes. He leans in to peck you on the lips, you lean in turn. After the kiss, you rest your foreheads against one another, relishing in the bliss of the moment. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

RAHH AND THATS IT!!! I HOPE U ENJOYED IT ANON AND ANYONE WHO READ THIS FAR-

i went into this not an adam lover, and i came out one as his no. 1 fan. i love writing characters i wouldn't normally. lets me think about them more than i normally do LOLL I wanted it end it off on the sweet note, so if there is more that was wanted i apologize but regardless, i loved loved lovedd writing this super soft and fluffy

i just checked my word count how is this almost 3k words what the hell

#hazbin hotel x reader #adam x reader #adam x pregnant reader #☾adoniswrites #anon ask #anon request

[cowgurrrl]

Crazy Love

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader (plus platonic fem!reader x Ellie Williams)

Summary: Ellie has a nightmare and you and Joel help calm her down [1.3k]

Author’s note: Apparently I’ve been on my tlou found family trope kick recently

Warnings: mentions of David, nightmares, a panic attack, I can’t think of anything else!

Ellie's screams rattle you from an already light sleep and shake the house. You and Joel are out of bed and sprinting to her room before you can even think about it. She's sitting up in bed when you open her door, gasps wrenching from her throat as she struggles to breathe, and she's in your arms not even a moment later. "You're home. You're okay," you tell her as you pull her close. She curls her head into your chest and sobs loudly. "We're right here with you, baby." Joel pulls the chair from her desk to sit across from you, an ever-present but silent figure. 

This is the third time this week she's woken up screaming. Each time, it sounds like thunder splitting the sky in half. It reminds you of every terrible moment that unfolded over the year it took to get to Jackson. Your heart aches, and tears fill your eyes as you rub her back and remind her that she's safe, that you and Joel would never let anything happen to her, and that you love her. Joel rests a gentle hand on your knee when he sees your tears, and you nod at him over Ellie's head. It's hard for both of you to see her like this and know there's nothing you can do to shield her from her own mind. 

She tells you bits and pieces of her nightmare in between cries. You're able to put together the words David, fire, blood, and know what she dreamt of. "Oh, sweet girl," you murmur as you push her hair out of her face and kiss her head. You hold her to your chest, tucking her under your chin, and hum an old song quietly. Joel reaches out and rubs soothing circles into her back. After a few minutes, her sobs die down to soft sniffles, and her breathing returns to normal. 

"You okay, kiddo?" Joel asks quietly. She nods against you and pulls away enough to look at him. Her face is red and splotchy, and her eyes are swollen. 

"Just felt so real," she says. You tuck a stray piece of hair behind her ear, and she takes a shaky breath. "I'm sorry I woke you guys up."

"You have no reason to apologize," Joel says in that firm, loving tone reserved for Ellie. "We get them, too."

"Yeah, but you don't wake everyone up when you do,"

"That's not true. We've probably woken each other up hundreds of times over the years." You tell her, glancing at Joel, who's nodding in agreement. Ellie looks between us and relaxes a little bit.

"Really?" 

"Really."

"Does it get better?" She asks. "Like, do they go away?" 

"I don't know if they'll ever go away, but it gets more manageable. They become less real. Sometimes, we'll still wake up cryin' and screamin', but we can't remember why. We just know it was a nightmare, and we talk about it and go back to sleep." He explains, his southern twang peeking through his words as he gets sleepier. 

"Does talking about it help?"

"Sometimes. The great thing about us three is that we went through all of that shit together, so we trust each other. We understand each other. Joel knows that cars make me nervous because of what happened in Kansas City, and I know that Joel's right hand is a little weaker than his left because it didn't heal right after we left Boston," You say. Joel makes a mock, offended face, and Ellie smiles. You swear, his eyes twinkle in the low light of her room when she does. "And I know that you are an incredibly capable girl who saw a lot of things you shouldn't have. You're still learning how to live with these things, and that's okay because we're here for you. We'll always be right down the hall." 

"Even if I have shitty table manners?" She asks at the end of your emotional, vulnerable speech, and Joel laughs. She gets that from him, you think. The sass in her question and the smirk pulling at her lips have Joel written all over them. They may not share any DNA, but that girl is a Miller through and through.

"Even if you have shitty table manners." He confirms.

"Even if I tell you puns all day?"

"Yes, that too."

"What about-"

"When you go to school tomorrow, ask your smartass teacher what the word 'unconditional' means, alright? Tell her you need a vocabulary quiz or somethin'." He says, and you laugh along with Ellie. Her face lights up, and the weight drops from her shoulders. You may not know what tomorrow will bring, but this, right now, is enough. You kiss Ellie's head again, the love you feel for her pouring out of you, and she lets you before rubbing at her eyes and yawning.

"Tired?" You ask, and she nods. "Do you want us to stay with you until you fall asleep?" 

"I think I'll be okay," she says, untangling from you and tucking herself under the covers. You and Joel stand, tell her goodnight and remind her you're not far. Right before you can close her bedroom door, she sits back up. "Could you... maybe leave it open? Just a little bit."

"Anything for you, kiddo." She smiles at your answer before finally laying back down and closing her eyes. When you turn to walk back to your bedroom, Joel cups your jaw and kisses you. Your hands rest on his chest as his smell surrounds you—something sweet and smoky and so inherently him. He kisses you slowly and deeply, stealing the air from your lungs. When you pull away, he chases your lips and kisses you once, twice, three times before looking at you. His eyes are warm and heavy with fatigue and something more. "What was that for?" You whisper, careful not to wake Ellie.

"Takin' care of her," he says. "Takin' care of us. I wouldn't have been able to do that without you." You smile and kiss him again. 

"You're getting soft on me, cowboy." You murmur against him, and he huffs a laugh.

"Now, you keep that one to yourself. I've got a reputation to uphold."

"You mean the residents of Jackson don't know that mean old Joel Miller is secretly a huge softy for his family? I'm shocked." 

"You like mean old Joel Miller."

"I love mean old Joel Miller," you say, and he smiles, creasing the corners of his eyes. "Let's go back to bed before we have to get up for patrol."  

"Yes, ma'am," he says as you untangle from each other, but he stays close, keeping a hand on your lower back as you walk to your bedroom. Together, you pick the blankets off the floor and reset the bed. When you crawl back into bed, his arms wrap around your waist, and he pulls you to his chest. It's easy to get sleepy with the human furnace holding you. 

"Were you humming Van Morrison to her?" He asks right before you can fully fall back to sleep. You have to laugh because the idea of him wracking his brain for the familiar tune through all of that is hilarious. You also have about five hours until patrol, and he's still awake, asking you about the song you were humming.

"I can't believe it took you that long to recognize it. Maybe you are losing it." You turn to look at him, and he rolls his eyes, trying to hide his smirk.

"Go to sleep."

"I'm trying. You're the one asking about Van Morrison." He doesn't fight you on getting the last word in. Instead, he kisses the back of your neck and squeezes you a little tighter. You fall asleep listening to big, scary Joel Miller humming Crazy Love into your skin like a gospel. After all these years, you have to think that maybe Van Morrison got that one right. Maybe love is enough to make us whole again. 

TUMBLR STOP DELETING MY LAST PARAGRAPH

#tlou fic #ellie williams #joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller drabble #the last of us #the last of us x reader #pedro pascal #i wrote this for me but you can read it too i guess #joel miller the last of us #tlou part 1 #joel miller fluff #tlou fluff

[fayes-fics]

When The World Is Free: Epilogue - Peace Ever After

MASTERPOST PREV | NEXT

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, WW2 AU.

Warnings: None… the fluffiest fluff that ever fluffed. Also, our pair have some news for the world.

Word Count: 0.7k

Author’s Note: Multi-chapter fic based on a request by the lovely @amillcitygirl . Please see the masterpost for a synopsis of this story. This is the neat little bow I wanted to wrap this fic up with. I hope you have enjoyed this story; it's been a pleasure to write. Thank you for reading, and many thanks as always to @colettebronte for beta reading. Enjoy!

Wiltshire, UK, 8th May 1945

Benedict’s arm is curled securely around your back as you dance together, Vera Lynn warbling from the wireless in the corner of your living room.

There'll be bluebirds over, The white cliffs of Dover, Tomorrow, just you wait and see…

His breath is warm on your hairline as you sway gently. A spontaneous, uplifting and tender moment to celebrate the end of the war. A lightness in your heart that this dreadful era is finally over and the overwhelming gratitude that all your loved ones have survived. This dance is also a peaceful, romantic interlude from the whirlwind your lives have become in the last few weeks. 

There'll be love and laughter, And peace ever after, Tomorrow…

The shrill ring of the telephone echoing from the hallway of your cottage interrupts your reverie.

“Ignore it,” Benedict whispers in your ear.

“But we just had it installed! It’s only our third call. How exciting!” You lean back and shoot him your best pleading face, and he sighs and, with an affectionate eye roll, gestures for you to go answer it.

You rush over and pick up the heavy bakelite receiver, a crackle on the line that is an operator.

“Overseas call for the Bridgertons from Madam DuLac,” the operator announces primly.

“Oh wonderful, yes, please put her through!” you enthuse.

“Salut y/n!” comes that familiar voice from the past after a short delay.

“Solene! It’s so wonderful to hear from you! How are you? How’s Paris?”

Benedict walks over at the mention of her name, hovering nearby to partially eavesdrop.

“I am wonderful. Paris is finally free and as beautiful as ever. On this monumental day, I wanted to check on the lovebirds who didn’t invite me to their wedding,” she jibes good-naturedly.

You can’t help but giggle. “We are very well, and yet again, sorry.” 

“Tu connais, there is one way you can remedy this,” she singsongs.

“Name it.”

“Your daughter shall be Solene oui? At least a middle name.”

You laugh heartily, then shoot Benedict a sultry look that makes his brow crease, intrigued.

“Why don’t you nag my husband about that?” you challenge lightly as he draws nearer.

He crowds into your back and takes the receiver from your hand, tilting it between you so you can both hear.

“What is my darling wife roping me into now?” he inquires dryly.

“Giving her a daughter that must be named Solene…” your ex-landlady chimes cheekily.

“Is she now?” his voice drops to a throatier register that immediately has you flustered. “And what is wrong with the son I just gave her?” he queries casually as he raises a flirtatious eyebrow at you.

“Vous avez un bebe?!?” Solene gasps. “Felicitations!!” 

“Oui!” You grin happily as Benedict's lips ghost over your temple lovingly. “We were about to send out telegrams with the news. Louis Jerome Bridgerton,” you pronounce proudly. “He is three weeks old, and he is our whole world…” your sigh so contented as you lean into your husband's attention.

“You named him after my brother-in-law?” Solene protests with mock indignance. “Then I definitely get the middle name for the girl!” 

“It was after the man who married us,” Benedict points out laconically before conceding, “who, yes, coincidentally is also your brother in law…” 

“And I shall expect a visit when petit Louis is a little older to see the wonders of Paris,” she hints unsubtly.

“Of course! His first trip will be to the Louvre,” your husband pronounces. “It was the very first place his parents went on a date, after all,” he adds, shooting you that trademark lopsided grin.

You elbow him mildly. “That was not a date!”

“It was for me, mon amour….” he side-eyes you heatedly. It makes you want to drag him upstairs and start on those daughter plans immediately.

“I should go and make my next call… to your sister and Phillip indeed; I just wanted to wish you a very happy Victory Day!” Solene interrupts your amorous moment.

“Et toi aussi,” you both answer in unison.

“Vive la France! Vive L’Angleterre! We won mes amis! Le monde est libre!”

You and Benedict’s eyes meet, a poignant moment, as the call disconnects.

“The world is free indeed,” he echoes softly, putting down the phone and sweeping you into his arms for a stirring kiss.

FIN

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[lex-the-flex]

In Front of You

Leon S. Kennedy x reader

Summary: Caught in the middle of the crossfire, you are ready to do anything for your team – especially for the man who cares for you the most.

Word Count: 1.5k

Warning(s): MEGA FLUFF, (make-out session) descriptions of injuries, talks of virus and needles, sensations of pain, cursing, action and violence, and character death.

A/N: I can’t believe I haven’t written anything for Leon since Death Island came out! I ADORED that movie and everyone in it!

Tip-toeing through the dark and damp hallways, you could practically hear the pounding rhythm of your heartbeat in your ears. Guiding your flashlight along the isolated cell blocks, everything seems still and quiet. Preparing to turn the corner, the panicked sounds of your team – your friends fill the empty halls, and you sprint like your life depended on it.

Catching up to Jill and Leon, you find them crouched in front of a set of dimly lit cells where both Claire and Chris Redfield are being held.

"Leon? Jill!" You call out, shining your light toward them.

Joining your team members at the cells, you grip the thick iron bars, and gaze at the sudden withered state of the siblings.

"Oh my God, you guys are so pale." Jill says, shifting her gaze from Chris to Claire.

Reaching through the bars, you work quickly to feel Chris' forehead, only to discover that he, like Claire is significantly hotter than a sunburn.

"And you're burning up so fast." You state, rushing to Claire's side in the separate cell.

"Hurry, get us out of here!" A third man shouts in the dark. begging for one of you to open the door.

Realizing that this man isn't infected, Leon clocks in on who he is within seconds.

"Son of a bitch, Antonio Taylor." He announces with a hint of annoyance.

"What are you talking about?" Claire questions in between staggered breaths, trying to remain calm.

"This scumbag's wanted for leaking national secrets to the enemies of the U.S. of A. Y/N and I were supposed to bring him in for questioning." Leon explains, glancing down at you as you tend to Claire.

Suddenly, the prison lights come on, and both Leon and Jill aim their guns in any direction they can. Removing your pistol from your holster, you sink back over to Chris to re-check his temperature.

"Welcome to Alcatraz. It's an honor to have you all here, together. Please, allow me to introduce myself. I'm Dylan Blake." The mad man known as Dylan begins explaining from an upper row of cells joined by none other than Maria Gómez.

Standing from your position on the floor, you aim for Maria, as the feeling of some unresolved revenge starts to creep up your spine.

"I bet you're how people are being infected without being bitten. The answer is simple: my prototype bio-drones." Dylan finishes, crossing his arms.

From the corner of your eye, the faintest buzzing noise whips past your face, and heads straight for Leon. Acting on your feet, you shove Leon out of the way, and a sharp, stinging pain erupts on the side of your neck, and you drop your pistol.

Landing on your side, the flashlights beam illuminates the shiny style of Maria's slick greyish and purple jumpsuit just as she jumps down from the upper cell block.

"Well, that was... unexpected. It's very brave of you, Miss L/N to put your life on the line for someone you love." Dylan mocks you, leaning forward on his cane.

Leaning over your shivering physique, a cruel smirk fills Maria's dark lips as you writhe on the cement floor. Aiming your pistol at the woman, Maria kicks you into the bars, causing you to scream. Silently wincing, both Chris and Claire feel your pain with you while they listen to your gasping for air.

“Y/N, don't. Save your strength!” Chris weakly calls out, forcing himself to sit up from his spot on the wall.

Groaning in pain, even your teeth ache as you lean against the bars, hoping for any kind of relief.

"I get it now. All this tech, even the virus, you got it all from Arias. That's why she's here, isn't it?" Leon asks, turning to Maria.

"Of course, Mr. Kennedy. I thought that after you murdered poor Maria’s father, that I’d settle the score. For both of us. It’s rather fitting, don’t you think? To see the woman you love be torn apart in front of your eyes, just as she once witnessed with you.” Dylan interprets, hinting at his own years of research.

“Fuck you, Blake! You don’t get to decide the course of our lives!” You shout in retaliation to no avail.

Leaving Jill with a warning, Dylan leaves the vast hallways of cell blocks, allowing Maria to finally get her hands dirty. Moving to protect you, Leon throws a flash bang, allowing Jill to make her quick escape to the armory.

*****

"Why'd you do that Y/N? That drone was meant for me, sweetheart." Leon asks, crouching down to your level.

Taking your face in his hands, a faint laugh leaves your chapped lips.

"I told you I'd owe you one. You took the Plaga for me, remember? So I did what I thought was right; finally paying off the debt." You explain through a series of whimpers.

"Oh, honey. That was eleven years ago. I wouldn't be alive if it weren't for you." Leon replies, gently stroking your cheek.

"He's right, Y/N. Then the Graham's wouldn't be safe. You and Leon could've died if it wasn't for your actions. You were fast, and both of you kept Ashley safe." Chris explains, making the long weight rise off of your chest.

"Yeah, we did our job. It may not be the best life, but our life. All of our lives." Leon announces, looking around to his friends and Taylor.

Taking your hand in his, you sit up against the bars, and sweat starts to pool on your forehead.

"I love you." Leon whispers before you, and a single tear drips from your e/c orb.

Shortly after his declaration, Rebecca arrives with a case of fresh vaccines. Injecting you with the medicine, Leon helps you to your feet, where the two of you prepare to face a bigger threat.

*****

Making your way to the control room, you and Leon observe the water starting to rise in the armory.

"Why's he letting all the water in?" Leon asks.

"I don't know. Maybe for the drones?" You reply, leaning against the monitors.

"You okay?" He asks, hovering his hand above your shoulder.

"Yeah, this stuff works wonders. You should try it." You joke with a smile.

"I'll take your word for it." Leon responds with a smirk.

Glancing behind his shoulder, your miniscule peaceful moment is interrupted by the sound of heels entering the room.

"I'm glad the virus didn't kill you both. I wanted to be the one to do it." Maria announces, standing firm on the stairs below.

"You don't always get what you want. Trust me." Leon projects, turning to face Maria.

Smirking, Maria kicks a computer screen from a pillar, and Leon dodges the fast moving object. Jumping for him, Maria punches Leon without any effort, and smashes him against the slanted single row of desks.

"This is for my father!!" Maria yells, lowering a jagged piece of a metal pipe towards Leon's face.

"He was Arias's guard dog. You were his bitch!" Leon retaliates, moving the pipe away from his face.

Feeling your strength return, you throw yourself into Maria's body, catching her with both of your arms. Colliding with her into a glass drawing board, your legs hit the small stair rail, forcing you to roll into your landing.

Struggling to your feet, Leon equips his Sentinel 9 and fires a few rounds at Maria, to which she dodges with a fierce kick to a desk chair. Launching herself towards Leon, Maria wraps her body around his bulletproof suit, and tries anything to disarm him.

Slamming Leon to the ground, Maria holds him in a headlock, desperate to take her revenge, but not before you finally shoot her in the left shoulder. Releasing Leon from her grip, she turns to face you with nothing but rage filling her eyes.

"You've been nothing but a thorn in my side! I've thought about nothing else but snapping that pretty neck of yours for over a year!" Maria shouts, pacing towards you.

"Yeah well, you're gonna have to try a lot harder than that!" You protest, shooting at Maria once more.

Working together, you and Leon quickly overpower Maria whilst as your stamina returns to your form. Taking a few more punches, Leon decides that enough is enough, and he kicks Maria out of sight. Crawling to you, Leon offers his reassuring touch to your back, until a worried expression fills your face.

Witnessing the sight of Maria being impaled by one of the glass board stands, she slowly walks from the metal stand, freeing herself. Standing to protect you, Leon pumps his arms one final time, but instead of making one last move, Maria falls to the ground; dead.

Standing in the room, a series of gasps and pants leave your lips, as the two of you try to cool down from the whole encounter. However, Leon rushes towards you and clasps his hands around your face. Frantically pressing his pink lips on yours, he moves at an ungodly pace, capturing your taste in his mouth.

A low growl escapes his chest as he backs up into an unbroken pillar and he moves his lips down to your neck, preparing to leave a mark, reminding everyone who you belonged to.

re taglist ~

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#resident evil #resident evil death island #resident evil leon #resident evil leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy fic #leon kennedy fanfic #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #capcom resident evil #capcom #matt mercer #nick apostolides

[oneshots-heaven]

“Sleeping Mates" — Timothée Chalamet

What are you supposed to do when your best friend answers to your ’Can't sleep' text with a cheeky ’Come sleep with me' but you refuse due to your feelings for him?

WARNING True heartfelt fluff with some spice and angst Timothée Chalamet x Reader

You were tossing and turning in your bed, the sheets already stripped down to your hips as the city lights flooded your room. Your body felt on fire, and while your limbs felt tired and begged your mind to find some rest, it didn’t. You were wide awake, grasping your pillowcase, quietly groaning into it. 

It had been the third night this week you struggled to fall asleep, and by now you knew you couldn’t blame it on the weather, neither on the city lights. It had thundered on the first night you couldn’t sleep and spent the entire next day blaming it on the weather. The second night, it had been chilly and rained all day, perfect temperature to have a good sleep, but instead you had stayed up almost the entire night. 

You knew it must be another reason for you to be so restless lately, but you couldn’t explain to yourself what it was. There was nothing wrong in your life right now, literally not a single thing you had to worry about. While of course, there were the usual ups and downs life had to offer, you were doing good. 

Turning back onto your back, you sighed as your hands searched for your phone, laying somewhere close by in your bed. Blinking against the bright screen, you checked the time. 

2:38 AM. 

Your tired arms gave in, laying the phone back down as you stared at the ceiling. The street lights brought the tiniest bit of light into the darkness of your room. There was only that, darkness filled with tiredness and admittedly, a bit of loneliness, as you felt like the only person awake around your block. 

Grabbing your phone again, you checked the time once again. Not even a minute had passed, and it would only become more painful if you kept staring at it. Your finger hovered over the touchscreen, having no clue what to do. No solution came to your mind, everything only seemed to make it worse. 

Unconsciously, you opened the messages, seeing the last chat with your best friend. You had sent him a video of his sister and you mocking his last fit, to which he had answered with some angry emojis. It still made you smile as you knew how eager he had become with his fashion looks, he liked making a statement and trying new things.

You stared at the chat, swiping upwards, reading some of your older texts. Timothée and you had been best friends for years now after having met more or less by pure coincidence. It was the easiest friendship you’ve ever had in your entire life, and somehow neither of you had ever questioned it, what you truly were, what you were supposed to be. It was just easy, he could focus on his movie career and you on your degree. Sometimes you didn’t hear from each other for weeks or even months, and yet you still always knew you had a friend for life. It felt like a lifeline. 

One that you felt the need for now. 

To: Timothée

Can’t sleep

This was stupid, he probably wouldn’t answer anyway. Knowing him, he was knocked out since 11 PM, peacefully sleeping in his bed two streets down the block. 

Just as you wanted to put your phone away again, it buzzed in your hand. You blinked in surprise, yet frowned as you checked it. 

From: Timothée 

come sleep with me

You slightly sat up in bed, your eyes still fixed on his response, your hand clutched hard around your phone, as if you could lose it any second. Your chest suddenly felt like a panicked void, completely caught off-guard. You blinked and read the text again. For a second you weren’t sure if this wasn’t just a fever dream, however it was very much real, it was right there. 

And yet it still felt surreal, although there was no reason to be surprised like that. Timothée and you were as close as the text hinted, saying stuff like that wasn’t a rarity. From the day you’d met, there had been this unspoken closeness between you two, a space where you could be whatever you wanted to be. It felt so natural that you had never questioned it, not until now. While you had had sleepovers at each other’s places and shared hotel rooms multiple times in the past, it just never was as intimate as inviting someone to purposely sleep besides you. 

This had to be a joke. 

All of the sudden, after whatever much time had passed, your phone buzzed again. 

From: Timothée

are you there or asleep already?

You pressed your lips together, your fingers itching to type an answer. 

To: Timothée

No, I’m here. Still can’t fall asleep.

Seconds later, your phone buzzed once more. 

From: Timothée 

open your door then

Disbelief kept you right where you were, hesitating. He wasn’t at your door, that was ridiculous. Why would he come over in the middle of the night? You tried to fight it, but the what if in your head was much louder. You let go of your phone, pushing the blanket aside before you stumbled through the dark hallways of your apartment. You must look like an absolute mess, but with the force you unlocked your door and pulled it open, it was clear you didn’t care at all. All your heart desired was to see if he was actually there. 

Clothed in a hoodie despite the nightly freezing temperatures outside, Timothée stood in front of your apartment door, his eyes flying up to meet yours. His face softened as he caught sight of you. “Hey,“ he mumbled, still sounding groggy from his previous sleep. 

Overwhelmed by the fact that he was actually here, you glanced at him wordlessly for a brief moment, before replying a soft ’Hey’. 

“Can I come in?“ 

You nodded, unable to form any words with your numbed tongue. It felt like your brain had stopped working, a complete malfunction of basic behavior. You remained standing in the doorway before ever so slowly stepping aside for Timothée to step in. You hadn’t expected this, you hadn’t expected to see him at this hour. 

Timothée walked further in your apartment as you closed the door behind him, starring at his back, right until he turned back around to you. “You okay?“ he questioned, making you feel caught. 

“Yes,“ you breathed. 

Pushing his hands in the pockets of his loose fitted sweatpants, he said, “Just can’t sleep, hm?“ 

Pressing your lips together, you leaned against the kitchen counter, nodding. You felt so out of place. What was this? Why did this feel not like usual, not like any other situation in your friendship and instead so different?

“Have had trouble sleeping for some days now. I don’t know why, I just can’t seem to find any rest.“ 

“Want me to make some tea? Talk you tired?“ he offered. “No offense, but you do look pretty exhausted.“ 

You chuckled quietly. “Well, I am pretty exhausted. But you don’t have to do all that. I just need to finally fall asleep.“ 

“Let’s go to bed, then.“ 

There were a million questions in your head, putting in question all sort of things. Go to bed, together? What will happen then? Will you sleep next to me? But first and foremost, why are you here now? While all of this was highly confusing to you, you didn’t stop yourself from following him to your bedroom. Your bed was the proof of your restless nights. The covers laid crumbled aside, pillows were laying everywhere, but were they fit right. Nothing about your bed looked comfy right now, but rather like a chaotic, stressful mess.

Timothée, without another word, made the space his own, grabbing one of the bigger pillows and fluffed it out before doing the same to the other. Stripping his sweater and throwing it on the ground, he stood on the other side of the bed, looking at you. He was still clothed in his low hanging sweatpants and a t-shirt, yet your cheeks flushed at the sight of him. 

It was the ease with how he did things. Without hesitation, without fear, because that was what your friendship had always been about—safety without any doubt. His smile offered the same comfort that you’d always known, and although the confusion didn’t leave you, you felt a little more relaxed to get into bed, just as he did too. 

This was just like any other sleepover, this didn’t mean anything more than any other time before, or at least that was what you told yourself. Timothée laid next to you, hauling under the same blanket as you, feeling so close yet far away in your queen sized bed.

The city lights brought enough light into your bedroom to see the contours of his face as you took a glimpse at him. Your fingertips tickled in desperate desire to touch his face, to draw your finger along his strong jaw over to his soft lips, but you denied yourself to give into that desire. Your hands stayed where they should be, laying to close to your body on either side. You laid in your own bed like a corpse, paralyzed to move or make yourself more comfortable, because you felt so fearful to get too close to him, and he seemed to notice. 

“Relax,“ he whispered into the dark. 

“I am relaxed,“ you assured him, lying through your gritted teeth. 

He snorted quietly, suddenly you felt his hand shaking your shoulder lightly. “No, don’t lie,“ he said, his voice sounding like a true beg. “You’re tensed as hell, no wonder why you can’t sleep like that. You need to let your body loose, like you’re sleeping in a hammock.“

“In a hammock, you say?“ you laughed. “I don’t think—“ 

“Yes, don’t think. Don’t overthink anything right now, that’s too much brain activity.“ 

At this point, you felt like he was mumbling bullshit, you could hear it in his voice. Before you texted him, he must’ve been asleep or close to sleeping already, he sounded groggy, yet ever so concentrated on making you feel just as sleepy. 

“I cannot not think. That feels impossible.“ you argued, which was the truth, especially now with him next to you in bed at this late hour. It was in the middle of the night, he should’ve been fast asleep and instead he had been suddenly standing in front of your door. You couldn’t concentrate on sleeping when your body was so hyperaware of his. 

“Why?“

The worst possible question because you had no answer to that, or rather you feared the answer to that. 

“I don’t know, I just can’t.“ 

His fingers brushed back and forth over your arm, creasing it, as he said, “Everything’s ok, Y/N. You’re fine, you can rest.“ 

You gulped, tensing more up if that was even possible. Why would he say such thing? Your mind spun around, and by now you were sure that you were losing yourself in absently overthinking about the meaning of your friendship. Timothée was the greatest friend you’d ever had, there was no argument in that, and you would do anything for this boy, and still you wondered. 

He pushed himself up on his elbows as he noticed how you still couldn’t relax and rather laid rigged up beside him. “Come here,“ he said, ever so quietly, as he opened up his arms for you to move closer. 

For a brief moment, you simply starred at him and the small space between the two of you. In the briefness of it all, Timothée looked like he may regretted his words, yet held his arms wide open. The confusion yelled loudly in your head, trying to draw further attention to itself but you had ignored it, already having pushed yourself over the mattress into his welcoming arms. They came around you, holding you against him. 

His fingers continued to brush over your shoulder down your arm as you snuggled deeper into his arms, face on his chest, and closed your eyes. This felt like peace, and that was all you had longed for in a very, very long time. Yet the question didn’t leave your mind, perhaps bothering you until you would free it from your soul. 

“Why did you come here, Timmy?“ 

The movement of his fingers stopped abruptly, his breathing becoming rigged, as you had definitely caught him slightly off-guard with that question. His chest moved up as he breathed in deeply, your head moving with it. What a dangerous, little question. 

“You texted me in the middle of the night, and I just—“ he mumbled, you could feel his lips brushing your head that was laying in the crook of his shoulder. You hung on every word he said, desperately waiting for him to finish his sentence and as he did, you swore you felt like you’d just died. “I just thought you needed me.“

You breathed out, feeling his hand brushing gently over your head. The darkness was your savior, it did not let Timothée read your thoughts out loud as they were written all over it. As confusing as this was, it warmed your heart that he had made his way blocks over in the middle of the night, just because he thought you needed him. 

And you did. 

All you were lacking for the past few nights was the sense of comfort that perhaps only he could bring back with ease. A gesture like this, God knows a smile from him even, was enough to give you peace, and that realization was scary. When did you put all your source of true comfort into one person? Especially one that was so close, yet never yours? Why did you do that? 

“I did,“ you whispered. “I had hoped you’d answer.“ 

His arms around your body tightened, pulling you even closer to him, if that was even possible. “I’m glad you texted me.“ 

“Why?“ 

You felt his head falling back deeper into the pillow he was laying on. “I was glad to be or even feel like the person you’d call in the middle of the night when you can’t sleep.“ 

Take your entire hand and crush my heart in it, it’s yours, that is all it ever was. 

Your thoughts spun with every continuing breath as the airy silence crawled over you two, and in that moment, everything halted in time, or at least that was how it felt like to you. A painfully long moment filled with even more questions, more confusion and longing. For days, your body had craved to finally find some rest and just as you possibly could get it, you wanted to do anything but to fall asleep. Although this may didn’t mean as much as your heart interpreted in his words, you wanted this to last forever.

“Timmy?“ 

He hummed in response, his fingertips running gently up your back, caressing it until you leaned onto your elbow to properly look at him. He loosened his embrace around you, yet refused to fully let you go. His gaze went up, meeting yours, you could barely make it out in the almost pitch-black darkness. 

“I wouldn’t want anyone else to be that person but you.“ 

“Really?“ 

Disbelief resounded in his voice. What a fool he was for not believing you. If he only knew what he did to you—for years. How much you cared, how much you wanted him to care. How much you needed this, and how much you wanted him to need you as well. It tore you apart that he couldn’t see that, and it felt like torture even thinking further about this. Why hadn’t you never act on this? Why had you always denied yourself the truth, especially when it was right in front of your eyes? 

Why even, why still? 

Timothée’s hand rushed forward, catching the strand of hair that was about to fall into your face, slowly brushing it behind your ear as you went against all fears and doubts and leaned forward, connecting your lips together without further hesitation. You felt his body stiffen, his mouth not moving a bit, not even responding. Just as reality came crushing down onto you and you hasted to move away from him, his hand pulled your face closer again as his lips crushed harder onto yours. You gasped into the kiss by the sudden surprise, leaning more on him. 

Blood rushed in your head, making you feel dizzy in his embrace. Your heart stumbled over its own beat as he pulled you even closer, those soft lips brushed over your bottom lip, luring a moan out of your mouth as his tongue slipped in, brushing against yours. 

Was this even real? 

His hands traveled carefully, almost a bit fearful down your waist to your hips while you melted into his touch, longing for it even more now than ever before. You’d always been close, but not once had you crossed this line, it always had felt taboo. You had believed Timothée could never like you in this way, more than just a friend, but the way how he moaned into your mouth as you gently bit his bottom lip proved you otherwise. He may desired you, too, at least a bit. 

Your hands found the collar of his shirt that you grabbed and pulled him on top of you, desperate to feel his weight on you. He chuckled against your mouth, “Stop it, I’m going to crush you.“ 

“Don’t be silly, Tim,“ you breathed, before he placed one hand on each side of your head and leaned down to kiss you once more. 

“I really don’t wanna crush you,“ he whispered in-between each kiss he planted on your lips, “because that would be a terrible way of ever losing you.“ 

Suddenly, the lightness got a little swept away by the serious undertone of his voice. Had he ever feared to lose you? 

“You’ll never lose me if you only keep kissing me like that.“ 

His mouth twitched to a smile that made him look so gentle and wholesome, yet his dark eyes told a different story. They had changed into a deeper hue, longing gazing, eyeing every inch of you in the dark night. Leaning down on his elbow, he used his other hand to brush with his finger along the lines of your jaw, his gaze following the movement, until he reached your lips. As he brushed over your lips, you opened your mouth, letting it dip in, and wrapped your lips around it to suck it. 

His breath hitched in the very moment of it, as he let out an airy laugh. “Don’t do that,“ 

You frowned, insecurity overwhelming you within seconds. “Why not? Sorry—you didn’t like that, did you?“ 

“No,“ he said, “I wanted for you to finally sleep, but if you keep doing stuff like that, I will most definitely try to keep you from sleeping.“ 

Shivers crept up on you, tingling all over your body, as your brain immediately shifted to imagine the reality of his words, and all you were left with was the desperate need to make it happen. Suddenly, every part of your body uncovered its aching for closeness that you had denied yourselves for too long. All those forbidden glances at each other, all those feelings that you couldn’t ignore, all the built up through the years of friendship finally found its purpose, and you would be damned if you let that chance slip. 

Your hand carefully reached forward, brushing aside the brown curls that fell into his face, caressing his cheek, “For once, I don’t wanna sleep.“ 

“Good,“ he breathed, and your lips met in the perfect middle of it all. Your hands grabbed after his face, pulling him closer down to you—him still on his elbows in his ridiculous fear to crush you, as he seemingly forgot that he was rather a lightweight, but you adored his wariness. He’s always been like that, taking care of you, looking out for you, wherever you went. Your mind had been attracted to him, before your body did. 

His lips began to wander to your cheek slowly down your neck, which you recked unconsciously to offer him even more space, marking every inch with a kiss. Just as your hands wandered, too, trailering down his sides to the hem of his shirt. You’d seen him shirtless before, many times, this, however, would be different. You’d pull off his shirt with intention, and he let you. Breaking away from your neck, leaving you whimper for a second, he kneeled in-between your spread legs. You followed his suit, hands still on the hem of his shirt, as he held up his arms, letting you pull it off in one swift movement. Your chest tightened at the sight of him shirtless. There was something that kick off serotonin in your head as soon as you saw him like this. 

“Don’t look at me like that.“ 

You met his eyes. “Like what?“ 

“As if I’ve got anything good to offer you. I don’t—I’m not—“

Your shoulders sunk in, face softening. “I like you just the way you are, Timmy.“ 

Chest heaving, his gaze also softened at your words. His hands found your face again, as he whispered against your lips, “God, you’re too good to be true.“ 

You melted in that kiss, as you never felt closer to him than in this random night that you wished would last forever. Morning shouldn’t come too soon, who knew how long this would actually last, but until then you would believe his words as the truth. 

“Can I take your shirt off, too?“

You nodded, wildly, offering him your arms in the air as he did the same to you, undressing you. You hadn’t worn a bra or anything underneath your oversized shirt, so you were instantly exposed to him, much to his surprise. His adam’s apple hitched visibly, as he took in the sight of you for a moment. “You’re so beautiful,“ he hushed, crushing his lips back onto yours, bringing you down on the bed again. “So damn beautiful.“  

And he proved his words. You felt him all over your body, appreciating it with his mouth and his hands, showered you in kisses and intense waves of shivers. He sucked on the softest parts of your breasts as he lightly flicked the nipple of the other, sending your brain into another dimension. Who would’ve ever thought of this happening? 

As his head hovered over the lower part of your body, hands on your sweatpants, he glanced up, meeting your eyes. “Is this real?“ you questioned. 

Timothée came back up to you. “Yes,“ he replied. “It’s always been real.“

Please do not come at me for not writing smut in this. I wanted to keep it wholesome. 😭

#timothee chalamet imagines #timothee fanfic #timothee chalamet fic #timothee x reader #timothee chalamet imagine #timothée chalamet #timothée chalamet imagine #timothée chalamet x reader #timothée chalamet x y/n #timothée x you #timothée chalamet fanfic #timothée chalamet ff #timothée imagines #timothée imagine #timothee x you #timothee x y/n #timothée chalamet fluff #timothee chalamet fluff

[captaincapsicle83]

I Know I Said I Couldn't Call

Bucky Barnes x Reader

TW: implications of death, cursing, and [worst of all] phone calls

Summary: Bucky gets an unexpected call in the night. A short little story, cute little fluff moments...

He grunted, and turned over at the standard form iPhone ring. Sam mocked him, and Tony was baffled, but Bucky claimed he, "liked the factory stuff."

In all reality, he didn't know how to change it.

It seemed to ring forever, and with experience he was sure it would. He turned over, reaching across the bed he was sprawled out on. The blanket was gathered at his feet, the sheet wrinkled and wild. He had about four pillows, arranged in a strange modern art kind of way.

It was truly a remarkable sight, but Bucky was just glad to be getting any sleep at all in a bed. Of course, not for very long, considering-

The phone call.

He picked out the phone, in his non metal hand. He became a little more alert, a little more awake, and sat up at your name flashing on the screen. At the end of it, was a little emoji, a pink heart with some sparkles around it.

He hesitated, but not for long. He didn't want it to ring out, risking not talking to you. You were on a mission, somewhere in an Eastern country. It was a solo one, Fury telling you it would he a piece of cake.

Ever had cake that was dry, and spongey? Made with frosting that wasn't sweet and tasted like crepe paper?

That was the piece of cake you were eating in Northern Russia right now.

"Hello?" Bucky said, his voice gruffer than he meant it to be. However, he couldn't much help it, the tiredness was overcoming him, no matter how much he shooed it away.

"Hey, baby," you said. Your voice was soft, and sweet. Sweet like the cakes you and Bucky ate together on that third date where you accidentally got another tables birthday dessert. Sweet like the cakes Wanda would bake with you, the ones you made her promise to make you on your wedding day.

"Hi," Bucky said again. His voice was as soft as he wanted it to be this time, like a cat walking carefully across a piano. Alpine did that once, and he watched with such lust and wonder, you had to watch his face. It had to have been the quietest moment of your life, watching his face light up into a half smile as Alpine carefully treaded, her soft paws taking each step with care.

It was beautiful, he was beautiful.

"I thought you couldn't-" Bucky started, but you cut him off. He was too tired to sense the underlying issues with the conversation. The unexpectedness, the urgency...the sadness.

"I know I said I couldn't call. It's just- I got the chance and I didn't...want to...waste it," you said.

"Oh," Bucky said, cutting himself off with a yawn. "That's...nice. I've missed you."

"I miss you too- I'm sorry I woke you up. It's gotta be so late there," Bucky glanced at his bedside clock. 2:43 am.

"How have you been sleeping through the night?"

"Better, honestly," Bucky said, then let out a tired chuckle. "The beds always a mess though, I kick things everywhere. Alpine won't come near me. Guess its the Winter Soldier in me."

You laugh at the joke, but it hurts you. It hurts your core, and you put a hand to the gaping wound on your stomach. You were outside of the old payphone box, watching the snowflakes fall on and around you. Your phone was so smashed and cracked, you were surprised it turned on at all. You were very serious about phone chargers though, and it was always above 70% when you left with it. Bucky would joke if the phone was below 50% charged you’d go into shock.

It was at 23 when you had made the call. Turns out, he wasn’t half wrong.

"How's the mission?" Bucky asks you. You admired his ability to hold a conversation, yet he was clearly struggling. You were too, if you were honest.

"It's going on a little longer than expected," you say, trying to sound like you were laughing without doing it. It hurt too much, and you were worried your guts would quite literally spill out.

"It'll be alright, you always get through it," his soft voice says. That was why the cat liked him, you had told him, because he basically was a cat.

He had pressed for answers, and you had delved him, not only into the satanic lore of cat behavior, but of the slew of internet memes, comparison of him to the one and only grumpy cat.

Sam was there for that, and nearly died everytime a new side by side came up.

"Is everything okay?" Bucky asked. The line was quiet, and you were suddenly very aware of that. You were worried you had already died. That wasn't what you wanted, not to die on the phone.

"Yeah, just thinking of you," you could almost see the blush and smile he was surely brandishing. "I'll be home soon, baby," you lied. You owed it to him, to let him sleep a little longer after you hung up.

"Yeah?"

"'Course. Be back before you know it. Gotta kick your ass for messing up my bed."

"I love you doll."

"I love you too, Bucky," you couldn't help but choke out a sob at your last words. Before he could question it, before you could hear anything else, you used all your energy to hang up the phone, letting the line go dead as your ungloved hand fell to your side.

Your eyes watched, the life flickering in and out of them, the snowflakes fall from the sky.

#bucky barnes #marvel #bucky barnes x reader #avengers x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #marvel mcu #bucky barnes fic #marvel fics

[pixeechix21]

The Ritual

Reader x Slytherin boys (Matteo and Theo)

Summary: When the ritual begins, the dark gives light to desires that need to be satisfied. You are a Slytherin and there’s the initiation for Last Year students. Pansy begs you to go, but what makes you agree is because, the Slytherin boys were betting you wouldn’t because you're a goody two shoes. When you arrive at the bonfire in the Forbidden Forest you're teased by Matteo and Theo.

TW: where do I start??? degradation kink, praise kink, primal, threesome, rough, M/M/F, blood, fighting, oral, p in v, fear kink, being chased, almost suggestion of rape (didn’t happen phew), trapping(idk wt it means necessarily but like it makes sense), teasing

WC:2.8K ish

Heading towards the dungeons you were ready to take off your tie and huddle up, hidden away from them. Entering the high vaulted main room, you search for them making sure you're safe. Pansy shrieks excitedly as soon as you take a step further. She runs up and hugs, “bitch where the fuck have you been!” she takes hold of you and steers you to the large leather couches situated in an arc, full of giggling girls. “Hey, y/n,” a couple smile and continue gossiping in whispering voices. You let yourself curl up between Pansy and Oliva. 

“Yeah, Snape wanted me after class to talk about extra work,” you explain, trying to play it cool and that you definitely weren’t getting some from Gryffindor. 

“Boo! You overachiever,” Pansy teases. “So you going?” She looks eagerly. It takes you a moment to realize what she was asking.

“Ehhhhh-”

“For the love of god, you better be,” she threatens.

“But I have to study and honestly I don’t want to be out there freezing my ass off,” you complain. You wanted to go but you really did have work you hadn’t done any of the assignments for tomorrow.

“You won’t be freezing your ass off if someone’s grabbing it. Pleeease,” she grabs your arms giving you faux puppy dog eyes. “We can even leave. After midnight,” she negotiates. You’re unsure, you’re low key excited about the Ritual, but… your brain tries to reason.

“Yeah pleeease, I know someone that’d want to get some,” Matteo's voice mocks from behind us. Aw shit, the Heirs. 

“Shut up Matteo, go find a fourth year to play with,” you retaliate facing the group of boys. Each tall and darkly handsome each in their own right. 

"Aww don't say that you know i prefer third years," he mockingly puts a hand to his heart in hurting. "I was merely offering an option."

"Ew Matteo," you, Pansy and Liv say in unison, rolling your eyes. "Anyways she would go for a dick like you, she's got Simon from Ravenclaw to help" she points out completely forgetting that that was said in confidence and that he broke it off to pursue "true love" or some shit. 

"We all know Simon couldn't please you," Tom chirps in walking along, already bored of this child's play. You roll your eyes and face forward ignoring their laughs echoing down from the boy's dorms. 

"He's not wrong he has that rat out of a sewer vibe," Liv agrees watching as your face screws up in a smile as you agree. 

"I'll go," you finally say.

"Yes bitch!" Pansy squeals again, jumping up and running to your room. 

The ritual is a customary initiation for final year Slytherins. All the staff know about it but they don't have enough energy to deal with stopping it from happening. It happens on the last weekend of autumn term, where everyone drinks endlessly and there's always a game involved. Hunt or be hunted; separate the mundane from the ambitious. 

As soon as Snape is reported to be tucked away in his master room, the students slowly scuttle out of the dungeons like mice, out to the dark forest. 

Pansy is readjusting her tits to be pushed out further, you shake your head giggling. "Shut up you're blessed with amazing tits," she dismisses you pulling down your shirt to stop you from hiding yourself. "Show what your mama gave you babies." The cold encircles your body and the full moon lights the path into the forest. In the middle behind a tangle of trees there's a small clearing in the middle a large bonfire burns. You see a page flutter up in the flames, probably used old books instead of fire, you think. You're nervous, unsure of the darkness and the rowdy teens drinking. Pansy spotted her boy toy and she left the bottle in hand. You walk around talking to others, slowly warming up as the fire burns brighter. Then just as everyone settled down, there was a shouting announcing, “everyone shut the fuck up!” On top of a newly fallen tree stood Draco. 

“As you all know tonight is the sacred night of the Ritual!” Everyone lifts their drinks shouting in excitement. “Alright alright, tonight’s special game is Tag, boys versus girls, as we are gentlemen we’ll let the ladies have a head start.” He goes on mischievously. “The Forbidden Forest is filled with monstrous creatures, but don’t lose sight of the real dangers. Us.” There’s geering all around. You search for Pansy but she’s nowhere to be seen. Don’t be a pussy, a small voice tells you. Inhaling deeply you accept the consequences whatever they will be. It’s a game, and you’re the chestmaster you got this, you hype yourself out. 

“We’ll start in 10 minutes,” Tom shouts. Everyone spreads out, you head out to search for a route. “The winners will be given the honorary title of King and Queen of Slytherine, and will be placed as head girl and boy of Slytherine house.”

“You warmed up?” Matteo cuts you off, eyeing you up and down. “I can give you a hand. Get you ready,” he steps closer. You instinctively step back. 

“Where you off to little bunny, we haven’t said go,” Theo breathes out smoke. The pungent smoke fills your lungs as you suck in your breath. He’s directly behind you, sandwiching you in.

“Go fuck yourself,” you say snarkily. Your chest rising up and down, tits rising and falling out of your small shirt. Matteo’s dead eyes look down to your chest, and smiles slightly, running his tongue over his teeth. Like a wolf ready to eat. 

“Trust me, I’d rather you do it,” he says slowly, inching closer. Theo chuckles as you step back again, this time his large hands take hold of your waist to steady you. A small hum of agreement comes from him. 

“I’d fuck your dad before you,” you spit out glaring up at Matteo. Challenging him further.

“Ha! I never thought power would be what gets you hot and heavy y/n,” he teases.

You’ve had enough, there’s too much adrenaline and alcohol running through your body to the point you’ve lost all reasonability, because suddenly you’re getting extremely hot. There’s a stirring down between your legs as he grabs your chin so that you look up at him. Feeling both of their hands holding you there, you feel trapped, encircled and being toyed with. 

Draco is counting down to zero and you’re starting to anticipate your escape. “Be careful little bunny,” Matteo starts.

“Wouldn’t want a big bad wolf to catch you,” Theo finishes, flicking his cigarette away. As Draco shouts zero, they both step aside, a devilish smirk plastered on their faces. They watch you intently as you start to walk away backwards then you turn around and bolt it.

There’s screams and giggles of girls as we make our way through the dark forest. I don’t even want to be the head girl you think regretting coming, the comfortable thought of your books and studies sounds like a much better option. You’ve slowed your running shouting and giggles only  distant echoes now. “Run run, bunny,” a voice says. You stop spinning around trying to gauge where the voice came from. The silence chills you to your bones, and you go into a sprint again. There’s laughing all around. You want to barf from the heavy breathing and alcohol. You check behind you, “GOT YOU!” Caleb James shouts, scaring the living shit out of you as he jumps out and takes hold of you. “Look who it is, the slytherin heirs’ slut,” he jeers, his breath stinks as he talks closely to your face, you turn your head in disgust. “Bet you’ll open your legs for me,” he starts to manhandle you and you scream for help. Your wand had fallen to the floor when he caught you. “Shut up slut,” he shakes you vigorously. There’s a snap of a twig in the dark. He stops his movements. You try to break free. Two dark figures step out of the shadows, their black clothes like camouflage. You never thought you’d be happy to see them. One of them advances upon you guys, he raises his fist and punches Caleb. A splatter of blood falls on your face, you step back watching them. Matteo dodges a swing and gets him in the ribs. Theo goes from behind and holds Caleb in a lock, “don’t you ever fucking try that you mud blood,” Matteo growls as he lands punches mercilessly. “Let him go he’s mine,” Theo steps back and Matteo tackles him to the floor.

Caleb gets Matteo breaking blood, a small stream coursing on his face. “Stop! Teo stop you’re going to kill him!” You yell. “Stop him Theo!” You jerk your head to Theo who’s watching happily taking a drag from his cigarette. 

“No this is all him,” he chuckles. Matteo’s knuckles are covered in blood and the boy isn’t responding any more. Face swollen and already purpling. After a second of two, Theo pushes off the tree, “alright I’m bored. Get off Matteo,” Matteo grabs Caleb's shirt and pulls him close, he says something that you can’t hear and then pushes him down.

He looks up at you as he gets up. “You okay?” He says quietly. His breath is erratic, a wild excited look fills his dark eyes. “You didn’t have to do that,” you start.

“A thank you would be polite,” he says sarcastically, approaching you. You can smell the blood and mint and he exhales from his mouth. Without you realizing your hand goes up and swipes his split lip, wiping some blood away. Suddenly he stops you by your wrist mid air. He takes you in close. He towers over you, “thank you,” you whisper. You’re released and snap out of the trance. Theo offers his blunt, taking it you relax as the smoke cradles you. “You caught me,” you laugh, not sure how to process those brief seconds you were scared for your life. 

“What’s the prize?” Theo teases, raising an eyebrow. 

“Come here and I’ll give it to you,” you joke. Well you thought you were joking until his shadow blocks the light of the moon and his black eyes gleam cravingly. You pull his head down, he opens his mouth slightly. You kiss him. His hands wrap around you and his tongue dominates your mouth. Ravaging your lips. Wanting to play with them like they did you, you break apart he looks disappointed at this. You put the blunt to your lips and breathe, exhaling as you eye Matteo who’s looking jealous at the scene in front of him. “And you,” you direct at him. Already your panties are wet with the idea of having them both. At the same time. 

Pansy would laugh her ass off, you think humorously. 

He comes to you with his hands snaking to your ass as he pulls you in close. He licks his lips, his eyes hooded heavily in lust. His kiss was determined. He wanted to show you. Force you to see that he’s the one you need. Behind you you feel Theo press himself into your ass, already growing harder you feel his dick on your back making you gulp. Reaching for him you pull his face into your neck, obediently he places hurtful kisses and bites up and down it. Matteo’s hot body firmly pushes you to Theo. Matteo’s hand needs your tits, as Theo’s moves down in front to your panties, his cold hands play between your wetness. You moan as you're over-stimulated. Turning your face to take Theo’s lips and bite. A clash of teeth and tongue. “You’re so wet for us bunny,” he moans. Matteo distances himself and looks at you both. Staring. He gets turned on at the idea of you entangled in his best friend's hands. He envisions himself giving you unbearable pleasure. How it’s hard to restrain himself and take you all for himself. “Take it off. Now.” He crosses his arms glaring at you as you make eye contact with him. Theo breaks away. First your pants fall to the floor. Your nipple hardens evermore at the chill and pure neediness. “More,” Theo presses. Lifting your shirt over your head that joins your pants on the floor. Tantalizingly you undo your bra. Then look through your lashes as you take off your pink panties.

They inhale at the sight of your beautiful naked body, both of them on the edge of tearing you apart. Your skin buzzes excitedly as you get on your knees in front of them. Your mouth starts salivating at the thought of having them both. “Want us both?” Matteo provokes. You nod your head, your hands eager to undo their belts. 

“Greedy little bitch,” Theo takes your hair and pulls it harshly. Your clit is crying to be touched, throbbing painfully. You can’t take it anymore. An unspoken agreement went between the boys, Matteo took you and Theo stood and watched. You have no time to react as you're thrown down, you hear the jingle and zipper coming undone. His hand palms your ass bruising it, you feel him slide his large tip up and down your slit, pushing in slightly then pulling out. Sexual frustration builds in you so much that you press your ass to him. “Needy little whore,” he chuckles as he thrusts himself in. Your back arches as he unfurls his hatred for you. There is no gentleness in his thrusts, none. He takes his hand to your front and starts edging you to your orgasm. Circling fast then slowly, taking you almost to the top then lets you settle down. Over and over he plays these cruel games. Theo eyes flare up as you look at him, eyes half open as if drugged by the sex, mouth open, you pant and moan. 

“You sound so pretty,” he crouches down, clearing a loose strand of hair, tucking it delicately behind your ear. He kisses you then stands up taking off his belt. “Take this Matteo, give her a lesson or two about power,” he hands his belt to Teo. He releases his grip from you and snaps the belt. The loud snap echoes in the dark.

 The Ritual so sexual and forbidden, it inspires even the most demonic of creatures. 

Matteo lets the belt hit you once, twice, three times each time, stinging more than before. You’re going to hate sitting down tomorrow. Theo comes back into your sight, his hard cock begging to be released. 

“Open wide bunny,” Matteo commands, setting down the belt and going back to circling your clit feverishly. As you come opening your mouth to let out sounds of pleasure Theo thrusts his dick into your mouth. His hands steady your head as he face fucks you, “fuck you’re better than I’d ever imagined,” you see sweat build on his forehead. “Look at you, such a beautiful little whore,” he wipes the strands of hair that are plastered to your face. 

“Fuck- God y/n you feel like heaven,” Matteo brakes out, as his own fucking doesn’t slow. You're so full that you start to feel another build up, it’s too much. It’s just enough. It’s not enough. Delirium comes over you as you cunt throbs, and you can breathe. The boys’ moaning and animalistic fucking sounds like a symphony to you. You cry out as you come again losing all control of your body. Theo finishes and wipes his come from your lips and you lick them clean as told so. Matteo’s nails mark you as he finishes ruthlessly. 

All three of you are a mess. Theo offers you a hand to stand up as Matteo helps you dress, picking out leaves from your clothes. Both treating you like a queen. You are lost, and they guide you back. “We found her! The Queen of Slytherin!” Theo takes your hand and bows. You are absolutely bamboozled at the fact that there were students playing tag and that they’re all cheering not knowing what just happened. Pansy yelled happily and you just nodded, thanking people as you passed by and headed to bed.

Because God knows the pain you’ll be in tomorrow.

#slytherin #slytherin boys #matteo riddle #fem!reader #smut #hunted #hogwarts houses #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #theodore nott #x reader #draco malfoy #temptation #so hot 🔥🔥🔥 #degrading k1nk #praise

[pablitogavii]

How about gavi is in a sour mood with anyone and when sweet reader comes he changes and immediately dotes on her ???

Moody

"Vamos Gavi!" Xavi yelled while Pablo was trying to score but unfortunately he hit it too hard and it flew over the net making him groan in annoyance.

"It's just training hermano, don't take it too seriously" Ferran tried to cheer his friend up but when Pablo was moody he was in no position to listen to pitiful excuses.

"And what if it's during the game next time!?" Pablo said angrily making the man raise his hands up in surrender and leave him alone for the rest of the training. Now he yelled at one of his good friend, so he was even more frustrated than before. Today was just not a good day for Pablo!

"Your bestie is being an asshole!" Ferran said to Pedri who looked towards his friend sitting on the grass fixing his shoes clearly agitated. Pedri knew Pablo for years and he knew exactly what he needed when he got like this..well more who he needed to see.

Pedri took his break going to the changing rooms and texting you to come to the camp because 'your boys is being an angry bird again' which made you drop your boring book and drive to the camp.

"Fuck! They keep untying!" Pablo said angrily having to stop his running to fix his shoes for the third time already. Nothing was going his way today!

"You need me to tie them again hermano??" Ansu said teasingly and Pablo would usually accept the joke but today he was in no mood to be mocked for not being able to tie his laces.

"Drop it Ansu!" Pablo said continuing to run with them untied not giving the shit if he falls and breaks his face in response..nothing could go worse today!

"Ooof he really needs her today..you called her?" Ansu said to Pedri smiling when he nodded knowing that the moment Pablo's eyes settle on you his whole mod will change. It was so strange but also the cutest thing to see.

"Hermano!" Pedri called while Pablo was doing his sit ups signing in frustration and turning to see what he wanted now.

"What!? Can't you see I'm working!?" he said angrily and Pedri hit his head pointing towards the stands shortly joined by Ansu who smiled when he saw Pablo's angry eyes soften and his whole demeanor changing the moment he saw you sitting there and waving at him.

He quickly got to his feet running past his teammates and towards the stand where you were smiling wider the closer he got to you. He was sweaty and dirty but you didn't mind one bit kissing his lips the moment he reached the railing.

"What are you doing here preciosa?? You should have worn a jumper over your dress, it's windy today.." he said smiling for the first time all day. Pablo never knew how you are doing it but he didn't care as long as it worked. You're heart melted how careful he was with you always.

"I heard you're being an angry bird today, so I decided to surprise you cariño..and I'll just grab your hoodie in the changing room if I'm cold" you said and he smiled shaking his head looking back at his teammates who pretended like they were not looking at your direction.

"They are cabróns! But I'm glad you're here now princesita.." Pablo said jumping the railing and sitting besides you pulling you closer and you rested your head on his shoulder feeling him kiss your hair.

"Why are you moody today Pablito??" you ask your small hand leaving light scratches on his veiny arms while his head rested on top of yours and he signs deeply.

"I'm not moody right now princesita.." he said and you smiled nodding your head glad that you could help in any way.

"I'll stay for the rest of the training if you want??" you said looking up and he smiled nodding his head and kissing your lips lovingly reminding you to grab his hoodie if you get cold.

"Te amo muchisimo princesita!" Pablo kissed your lips one more time before he had to return to the pitch to finish his exercises.

"Te amo Pablito!" you yell back seeing him pass his teammates pretending like he was still in the sour mood but then smiling to himself knowing that his whole day just brightened up the moment he saw your beautiful face.

When the training was finally over, you walked to him and he snaked his arms around your waist while his friends were standing with you to chat before changing.

"We knew she would stop you from being an asshole Pablito!" Ansu smirked high fiving Pedri who nodded his head smiling towards your blushing face.

"Stop calling me that cabrón!" Pablo said angrily once again and you smiled knowing you were the only one he let's call him that silly nickname.

"Can I call you that??" you looked up at him and his eyes once against softened while he nodded his head and pecked your lips lovingly.

"Only you princesita.." he said blushing a little when his friends awed teasingly flipping them off while kissing your head and you smiled nuzzling your nose into his neck.

"I have to thank you for coming too..he's transformed his skills mid training" Xavi said teasing Pablo as well who shook his head pretending to not like it but everyone knew that was not true.

"Not you too míster!" Pablo said and everyone laughed while you looked up seeing him smile down at you and pecking your lips lovingly before you walked towards the changing rooms excited to go home and spent some time alone.

I hope you like it! Angry bird Pablo >>>

#pablo gavi #pablo gavi icons #pablo gavi x reader #pablo gavi x y/n #pablo gavi x you #fc barca #fc barcelona #fc barça #gavi #gavigif #barcelona news #pablogavixreaderfluff #pablogavixreadersmut #gavi x reader #gavi x vini #gavi x you #gavi x yn #gavira #pablo gavira #pablo martín páez gavira

[selfishdoll]

Hi!! Can I request a NSFW alphabet for Kashimo?? Thanks❤️ take care of yourself ❤️❤️

NOW PLAYING…. SHE

Uh, and you touch yourself after hours

NSFW ALPHABET w/ KASHIMO HAJIME

cw: mature & suggestive themes, ooc kashimo (ofc), improper use of cursed technique, mdni, etc.

the way i was so excited for this 🤭🤭 like lowkey this is my first request. ty very much & i hope you enjoy it! <33

A ╲ AFTERCARE.

to put it bluntly, kashimo was not good at aftercare— at first. once you two were done he was jumping out of bed (or leaving you against some random surface he had pinned you against), leaving to go back to what he was doing previously. when you finally opened your mouth and explained you needed aftercare (especially given how rough he was), kashimo obliged, albeit begrudgingly. the next few times however, he’s come to enjoy it as much as you do; feeling light at the way you would smile each time he gently massaged you or picked you up. just seeing you content and safe with him soothed him.

B ╲ BODYPART.

kashimo hajime takes pride in his physique, and he should; given he’s spent many years honing his skills and body to become a great sorcerer. but to pick a favorite, it would have to be his arms. they’re reliable, strong enough to take down cursed spirits without as much as a sweat, and strong enough to lift and move you around how he pleases. even if you are a bigger girl, he doesn’t care— even gets a little offended if you think he’s gonna drop you. he’s always proved you wrong.

this one is easy. kashimo is definitely an ass man. i’m sorry, he is. the man claims he always walks behind you for safety but most of the time his eyes are trained on your ass. loves the way it feels his hands when he grabs it, or how you whine when he spanks you; he can’t get enough of it. and when he’s taking you from behind his eyes are trained on that exact spot, watching the way your cheeks shake with each thrust into you. it’s so erotic to him.

C ╲ CUM.

i like to think kashimo eats well given his form and stamina, so his cum wouldn’t taste bad at all. it’s not fruity or magical, or anything; but it isn’t something you don’t mind swallowing. it’s thick and a pearly white.

i’m sorry, i couldn’t go into detail because talking about this made me laugh.

D ╲ DIRTY SECRET.

now, the first time you ever asked kashimo to lightly electrocute you, he mocked you. lowkey called you a pervert and teased you heavily for it— but you ended up getting your wish. just a gentle shock every now and then to send you over the edge, watching your face change to the prettiest expression ever.

so, one day, the idea pops into his head. he could electrocute himself just to see what the fuss was about. it took a minute for kashimo to actually do it after the idea plagued his mind, given he found it a little embarrassing and weird.

but when he’s seated on your shared bed, legs open while fisting his cock with one hand— close to releasing, he does it. focusing on his sensitive tip and pushing himself over the edge. the sound that released from him was downright pornographic, tremors running through his body as he slowly recovered.

he’s only done that once. and no, he would never tell you about it.

E ╲ EXPERIENCE.

plenty experienced. he hasn’t had boat loads of sex with other people, but enough so he knows what he’s doing.

F ╲ FAVORITE POSITION.

anything that shows off his strength & allows him to see your face clearly. so definitely a mating press. he hates the way you cover your face from him, so this a sure fire way to make sure he sees everything.

full nelson is also a second favorite, with cowgirl being the third. of course, even if you’re on top he has all the control.

G ╲ GOOFY.

is not overly serious during sex. he’s not cracking jokes or anything, but he will smile at you — albeit mischievously — and chuckle if you say something he finds funny.

H ╲ HAIR.

first & foremost, the carpet matches the drapes. we were all wondering & i’m here to confirm it.

kashimo keeps himself tidied, not a lot of hair there for his own preference. his happy trail isn’t thick either, a soft tuft of cyan running down under his navel.

I ╲ INTIMACY.

kashimo can be sweet when he wants to be, when he thinks you deserve it. if you’ve been good he’s for calling you sweetheart or pretty girl, complimenting the way you look under him. lips never detaching himself from your own. if he knows you’re having a bad day, he will worship your body, taking care of you numerous times before he even pushes into you. ignores your pleads for his cock, declaring he needs to explore every inch of you and remind you how beautiful you are.

when you aren’t being good, well.. the sweetness is paired with degradation that would make any other girl cry.

J ╲ JACK OFF.

hajime doesn’t jack off a lot as he much rather get pleasure from you. the few times he does are when he’s away from you, yet his mind is still completely swarmed with you. your body, your voice, that one time you bent over infront of him in shorts. he gets frustrated though during it, annoyed he’s using his hand instead of your pretty mouth or pussy.

K ╲ KINK.

i like to think he has quite a few such as: breeding, dumbification, spanking, choking, & breath play. & no i will not be elaborating :)

L ╲ LOCATION.

kashimo is not picky about location. doesn’t care where you are, doesn’t care whose around— if he’s aroused, he’s pulling you to the nearest private spot and going to town. it’s exactly why you’re so careful when the two of you are in public, assuring you aren’t switching infront of him or leaning down near him.

but of course, all that carefulness doesn’t work.

M ╲ MOTIVATION.

simply you turn him on. you in a dress, you naked, you in pants, you cooking, you, you, you. the first thoughts he has are innocent enough until they delve deeper, relishing in the fact you are his and only his. that’s enough to turn him on, amazed at how lucky he got to get you.

but in special situations, you wearing anything that hugs your body. so he sees every curve, roll, everything.

N ╲ NO.

no sharing you. will never share you. it’s a hard no.

O ╲ ORAL.

before i even started writing for this man i labeled him as a munch, i mean— look at him?? will eat the pussy for breakfast, lunch, and dinner if he could.

that’s not to say he doesn’t like you going down on him, kashimo loves it nearly as much as he loves eating you out. loves watching the way you choke on him, pretty lips wrapped around his cock while your tear filled eyes stare up at him. you looked so pretty to him, and he’ll tell you so— all while shoving himself deeper inside; tip hitting your poor throat.

P ╲ PACE.

most times kashimo fucks you fast and deeply, making you come within a manner of minutes. he’s in no rush, he just enjoys watching you come undone so easily from him.

when he’s being gentle and slow, it doesn’t last long given how needy you can be. something he loves but loves more to mock you on.

Q ╲ QUICKIE.

doesn’t mind them, but prefers to take his time with you or rather make you orgasm at least more than once. but, if he can get one in, he will.

R ╲ RISK.

depends on the risk. if it’s something that can hurt you badly, it’s a no. using his cursed technique is the only exception really. sure, you’re cute when crying but he would hate to hurt you badly.

now risk when it comes to public sex is something he doesn’t mind. mostly because, anyone that questions you or him better be able to beat him in a fight.

S ╲ STAMINA.

he’s a trained martial artist and an excellent jujutsu sorcerer— he could go on for hours if you left him.

T ╲ TOYS.

kashimo doesn’t own toys himself, you and his hand is enough for him. however, he doesn’t care if you use toys on yourself. not an insecure man, knows you’ll come crawling once the intimate objects are not enough.

the first time he catches you using a toy (it was a dildo), he plays up the jealous/annoyed lover act (you seeing through it instantly), ordering you to continue infront of him. all the while he softly teased and mocks you, asking if it was enough for you, did it fill you like he did? and when you finally come from it, you turn to him thinking he would touch you.

to your disappointment, kashimo left you there, a mess.

U ╲ UNFAIR.

a relentless teaser. all for denying you release or making you beg for it. loves watching you struggle to form words whether from how embarrassed you are or from how dumb he’s fucking you.

V ╲ VOLUME.

is not a loud man. when the two of you first got to together it was almost like fucking a serial killer. he wasn’t completely quite but grunts and moans were definitely kept to a minimum.

this changed however, when you informed him you liked to hear him. now he will stuff his face into your neck when he’s close, groaning right there against your ear.

W ╲ WILDCARD.

doubt there’s anything wilder then electrocuting himself.

X ╲ X-RAY.

typical martial artist physique; built and lanky with strong, large arms. muscular thighs with a (surprisingly) small waist.

moving on, the man is hung. a good 5-6 inches with a swollen tip and a thick base. loves to wear sweatpants around you because you are not good at hiding your glances to his crotch.

Y ╲ YEARNING.

his sex drive matches yours. if you want to fuck like bunnies, he’ll match that. if you want to fuck every other week, that’s fine too. he didn’t seek out a relationship with you only for sex and besides, kashimo has other things to do.

Z ╲ ZZZZ.

rarely does he go to sleep straight after sex. most of the time he’s not tired and will just sit there with you until you fall asleep. only then will he get up to do something whether to train or make you something to eat for when you wake up.

he never leaves for a mission while you’re asleep. much rather wait for you to wake up or wake you up himself.

#mechahrt #mdni #hajime kashimo #hajime kashimo x black!reader #hajime kashimo x reader #jjk x black reader #jjk x fem!reader #jjk smut #smut #black!reader

[shoyoist]

— 𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐄𝐃 : hanma shuji.

content: fluff + somewhat suggestive bec that's just how shuji is. he's got a couple new tattoos, which r inspired by leepoon-06's amazing art (linked at the end).

— . ｡˚ ♡ just waking shuji up for work & giving him kisses.

"my love," you whisper, shutting off hanma's alarm for him, after the third time it had snoozed itself and rung again.

the man doesn't stir where he lays on the bed beside you, wide shoulders hunched together as he curls up under the blankets, his blonde-and-black curls tousled over his forehead as he buries his face deeper in his pillow. "shuji? you need to wake up."

there's a moment of silence in which you wait for him to respond, knowing that he is awake, before a muffled groan issues out from between the pillows. "doll. call 'saki and tell him i can't come in today."

"today's meeting is important though, baby." you hum, placing a hand on his back.

it's been a while since you've woken up to see your husband still asleep beside you.

the lazy kisses he presses to your face and neck to wake you before he leaves for work are sweet. and opening your eyes to a hazy view of him grinning down at you, all dressed up, smart and handsome in a pin-striped suit and gold rimmed glasses is a delight—

but really, if given a choice, you'd wish to wake up and turn around to see him sleeping in your bed over that, any day. but still, you respect and support him in his work, no matter how dangerous it is and how often it keeps you apart. and you know you can't let him sleep in. not today. "shuji, you know you can't miss this one."

"i know." he grumbles, voice deep and hoarse with sleep. turning around, he pushes the blankets away as he shifts to lay on his back with a sigh. "but i don't fuckin' wanna go."

the early morning light casts a dim glow through the bedroom, lighting up hanma's pale skin, and you get a beautiful view of the tattoos he's got across his chest.

there's another moment of silence, before you wrap an arm around his waist, over his stomach, and pull yourself up against him.

gently, you press a kiss to each of the inked snake heads that sit on his pectorals. "you'll be fine, you big ass baby."

"aw, fuck you." he mutters, pulling a face at you that just looks cute with his unfocused, sleepy stare and messy hair. then, he sighs, and turns towards you a little. "more."

"more, what?" you play, and he rolls his amber eyes at you, the bright gold of them flashing with mock annoyance. "c'mon, shuji. tell me."

it's the exact same thing he'd said to you last night, as you lay pressed to the sheets under him — and he remembers it with a fond chuckle, before he locks gazes with you again, smiling softly. "more kisses, babydoll. give them to me."

"where's the word?" you tease, placing your hand on his muscled stomach and lifting yourself up by your other elbow, looking down at him with a mimick of the mischevious smirk he always gave you.

"please." he says, surprisingly obedient, and you mumble a 'good boy, shuji' — before you kiss him again, lips on the sharp curve of his jaw.

he lets out a contented sound that's almost like a purr, closing his eyes and laying back as you kiss him. you feel him flinch when you exhale into his neck, tickling him a little, and you giggle when he gives you a warning pinch on the cheek.

hovering over his frame now, you cup his face with your palm, and move his head aside to kiss his shoulder, where the tattoo of the snake coils with the leaves of a pair of roses that are inked onto his back.

he barely breathes as you make your way down, lips trailing his collarbones and chest, relishing in your soft touches and mumbled praise. "so handsome, shuji."

his muscles are relaxed, and his skin is warm from having been nestled under the blankets for so long. "lovely," you tell him. "my shuji's a lovely sight to see in the morning."

"fuck," he says, large hands finally moving to slot themselves at your waist. "you know this isn't helpin' me get outta bed."

"these are good morning kisses." you chide, tapping him on the cheek, at the lift of his cheekbone. "you're supposed to get encouragement from them, and get up for work all energized."

"it's not working." he protests, flashing you a lopsided smirk as he runs his hands down to your hips for a squeeze, before bringing them back around your waist. "it's making me wanna do something else."

"you'll only get that after you come home from work." you shake your head, crawling over to give him one last kiss on his lips, short and sweet. "now go."

"that's a more convincing deal." he chuckles, sitting up as you rolll off of him, back to your side of the bed. "but," he pauses. "all those kisses on my tattoos, and only a couple on my face? just one for my lips?"

"your tattoos are pretty." you answer, settling back into the sheets and closing your eyes.

"you're prettier," he smiles. "when i wrap these tattooed hands around your lil' throat."

your heart jumps at the tone of his voice — but you've practised restraint. giving him a stern look, you nod towards the door that leads to your shared bathroom. "go. now. or you'll be late."

he lets out a laugh, before sliding off the bed and stretching his body out, arms in the air almost brushing the ceiling with how damn tall he is. "fine, whatever my doll wants. better be good 'n wait for me to get back home to you, though."

"of course i will." you reply, and after a pause, you add, "and you better be good and come back home to me, too."

hanma knows what you mean, and though he doesn't look back at you as he says it, the solemn tint of promise in his voice tells you he means it. "i will. i love you, baby."

"i love you, too." you say, watching as he grabs his towel and walks into the bathroom, the muscled panes of his chest and back covered in inked art, snakes and roses adorning his pale skin, where once there were only two tattoos — sin and punishment, on the back of his hands.

your husband conveys sin and punishment towards the rest of the world, with those hands of his, and once he's done, he comes home to you and offers you his heart and his soul, with those very same hands.

tells you he loves you, and that he'll do his best to stay with you forever, with the same mouth that parts to wish death to his enemies.

and of course, you accept. you'll kiss him good morning and shower him with cheesy praise like this every day, if it meant he would love you, and come back home to you every night.

you'd do anything. if it meant he would stay with you forever.

inspired by @/leepoon-06 's out of the world, absolutely gorgeous shuji art.

#☆༉ rekha™ #☆༉ dulciloqui. #hanma fluff #tokyo revengers fluff #hanma x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #hanma shuji fluff #hanma shuji x reader #tr x reader #tr fluff #tokyo revengers headcanons #tokyo revengers drabbles #hanma drabbles #hanma shuji drabbles #hanma headcanons #hanma shuji headcanons

[igotanidea]

Quiet: Dick Grayson x fem!reader

Stubborn like a mule, Dick would never admit he fell for a teammate. Of course everybody knows and with the amount of teasing it won't take much to push him over the edge.

Inspired by Charlie Puth;s song Charlie be quiet.

Warning: it's long :D (20.971 words!) - that part was not planned :D

Seven years ago

„Stop staring.”

„What?”

„You heard me. Stop ogling her.”

“I am not….”

“Dick.” Donna’s voice was as stern as it possibly could. Despite her best effort she was slowly losing patience with Robin’s childish play of cat and mouse. Everyone, literally everyone, team or not could say he was head over heels in love with his teammate, Y/N Y/L/N, who also happened to posses the power of blue lantern. She was the third one to join the Titans, after the corps decided that the girl, born human, had to be near Earth’s green lantern to get access to her full power. Hal, who was supposed to be her mentor trained her well for a couple of years and despite their differences they become friends. So when the green one left her at the tower, arguing that she needed friends at the same age and with similar capabilities and assuring that she could always reach him if need arises, her heart broke a little. At first she was withdrawn, intimidating and hard to understand but soon her other, lighter side emerged. One thing everyone noticed about the girl was that everytime she was indulged in things that gave her sense of fulfillment the lantern’s blue light surrounded her, making her look ethereal and beautiful. Perhaps that was the thing that quickly caught Dick’s attention. Despite their initial fights and a lot of misunderstandings and communications problem they worked through it. Of course, only for the sake of the team, nothing else. Both Dick and Y/N were individuals who hated being told what, how and when to do, but also knew when to step down. She was the one to make him stop, think and analyze the situation before acting, he helped her in developing her intuition. In no time, he found himself falling for that introverted analyst who always, always had  a plan and was way too much in her own head.

“She’s gonna figure it out. Is that what you want?” Wondergirl mocked, knowing well enough that for the last couple of years Dick was doing everything in his power to keep this infatuation a secret. In his own words, it was not wise to get into relationship with someone who could be called into space at every second. And definitely stupid to love a teammate, which may cause a distraction and damage while fighting. He just kept coming with so many dumb excuses to adore her from the distance. At this point he didn’t even bother to answer Donna’s question since it was obvious Y/N realization of the situation would be the end of him. So he kept it quiet. Y/N was that kind of person who preferred to keep the emotions at bay as well, never giving him any sign she was interested in forming a relationship, more often than not pushing people away when she was scared and worried and stressed and vulnerable. Not really talking about it but separating to gather back her strength and balance. Well, she was the blue lantern, who got power from hope, so what else could you expect.

“Did you guys want something?” said blue one turned around towards her friends “you’ve been standing there for like a quarter now and it’s getting suspicious” she mocked

“it’s fine. We were just trash-talking you” Donna smirked

“Oh thank god, I was getting worried you were saying some good stuff about me. Such a relief” she fake-brushed her forehead. “Anyway, is anyone up for some sparring? I need to keep my spark up.”

“I thought you were  supposed to recharge? I mean… meet with Hal?” Dick frowned and a shadow of disappointment crossed the girl’s face as she shook her head.

“He was called on Oa. Apparently some threat appeared in the north side of the galaxy and Green Corp needs his immediate help. Nothing new, so yeah, I’m gonna go workout. Want to join me, Grayson.”

“Nope.” He felt his heartbeat fasten. Shit, it was getting harder and harder to be around her.

“ Ok. Donna?”

“Sure. I’m game. You can never count on the boys, right.”

“Hear, hear, sister.”

Just as Donna and Y/N left, heading towards the training room, Hank appeared on the other side.

“You did it again, didn’t you?” he let out a laugh “I would love to see you breaking one day.”

“Not a chance.”

***

Four years ago

“You’ve got to be kidding me” Y/N eyes went wide the second she entered the lab at the precinct. “it’s all for me?” it took a lot of strength not to jump out in joy. When, after the Jericho incident, the Titans fell apart and everyone went their own ways, she put all her intellectual efforts into science, biology and chemistry, taking first steps on a path to become a Forensic Scientist. With her stubbornness, passion and insight she soon got to be the best in the field. Last year was spend on working with the best detectives and investigators (including detective Chloe Decker from LAPD), getting hell of a knowledge and experience. And now, she moved to new city and easily scored a job at the best precinct in the whole country.

“Yep. All yours. Take your time and when you are ready, come meet the team. It’s quite big if you ask me, may be a bit overwhelming, so at first you’ll only meet with the best of the best. Those will be your regulars.”

“Good. I’m not exactly good with people.”

Half an hour later, the girl finally left the lab equipment, the books and agents and came down to the main office of detectives. With every step the feeling of something strangely familiar of this place was consuming her more and more and that hope of good things to come made her hand glow blue. A single raise of an eyebrow of one the officers was enough to snuff it.

“Y/N! Oh, you decided to grace us with your presence.” Her boss was talking to some man, whose back was turned to her so she did not see his face. “good timing. I would like to present to you our top investigator. Meet detective Richard Grayson.”

“Wha.. what?” she stuttered a little bit, pure shock reflecting in her eyes as the man turned around his expression being a mirror reflection of hers. “Dick?”

“Y/N?” he hadn’t seen her for two freaking years. Hell, he did not contact her in any way, despite a bit of stalking to make sure she was doing fine. And after all this time his heart skipped a beat at the sight of the girl he was still in love with. Time did nothing. And she was going to work with him, again.

“Hi.” She tilted her head and smiled lightly as the first surprise passed

“You know each other?” the captain caught up on the scene happening in front of his eyes

“From the previous life.” Dick said without looking away from her. It was real, she was real and here. He got her back.

“Should I be worried then? Will your past cause any problems in professional relationship?”

“No, sir. Not at all.”

Dick Grayson was always a good liar.

***

 “Hey.”

She wasn’t even doing anything, just sitting at the desk, covered with document and samples collected from the crime scene. Her eyes were a bit puffy and red,  clear sign she did not sleep much in the last days, her thick h/c hair a perfect mess. Lack of makeup and lab’s soft light mixed with her blue aura made her look young, fragile and innocent. All those adjectives far from truth given her secret identity.

“Hey Dick.” She smiled softly, yawning and stretching “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“You are?” that was surprising. Maybe she did change during the last time he saw her. There was something more gentle in her action.

“Mhm.” She rubbed her eyes in child-like manner “I need to stand from behind this desk like now. I’m way too sore. I’m going to grab some coffee. Would you mind staying here and watching the documents? Can’t risk anyone getting the confidential information about the investigation. And since it’s yours….”

“Sure.” His heart dropped a little but he did not let it show.

“Thank you.” She hopped down from the chair and suddenly lost her balance. Dick’s instincts kicked in and he was quick to catch and hold her before she fell to the ground. For the first time since the Titans she was so close to him, yet not close enough. He wanted to embrace her fully, stroke her hair, feel her heartbeat next to his, feel her. Sad thing he couldn’t.

“When was the last time you slept?” he asked instead, unwillingly letting go.

“Not sure. I took a nap yesterday, but…”

“Y/N.”

“What?” she scoffed “to much to do. You know…. the other job…. And it’s not like you are not running around the streets dressed in red and green.”

“You….?”

“Yeah, of course I know. I observe. And did you really think I bought that story about your injuries being the effect of the latest work action? Please, I know you better than that.”

“And I know you. How’s your light doing? Hope still up?”

“Never dying. But I’m not going to lie. Given the condition of the world last two years was a rough ride. I was even summoned by the Blues.”

“You were in space, huh? Why?”

“They thought I was getting weak. Wondered if I deserve the power of the lantern. But you know, the ring know what it does. I was just cut from using it for a bit. Last week of my suspension and then I’m back at my full capabilities.”

“I’m sorry about it.” He took a step closer and grabbed her hand. She didn’t even flinch when he started caressing her palm. It was nice and comforting and moving something inside her.

“It’s fine. We learn from mistakes, right? At least some of us” she shoved him playfully killing the atmosphere in effect.

“Sit down, Y/N. I’ll fetch you coffee and then we’ll talk about my case.”

“Ok, thanks. I want…..”

“Black, no sugar. I remember.”

***

“I’m sorry I dragged you into this” Dick and Y/N were standing at the crime scene. Or rather a battlefield scene. Blood and dead bodies were everywhere reminding of horror movies, especially those where the chainsaw was used.

“I’m not an amateur, Dick and this is not my first rodeo so stop it. I’ve seen worse. In both lifes.”

“Right. Sorry.”

“It’s ok. That little protectiveness of ours is touching. And gives me a reason to mock you freely.”

“Don’t you dare” he hissed grabbing her by the waist “I can always go full Robin on you” he whispered his face centimeters from her, unwillingly leaning in, forgetting where he was, who he was and what he was doing.

“Well than, I’ll go full blue lantern on you” she smirked and wriggled from his arms “but now, I have work to do. Genetic material, my favorite kind”.

As Y/N came closer to the one of the bodies Dick was completely consumed by his own thoughts. He loved her even more now and it was getting impossible to hide it.

Two years ago

Two years of working together did not bring him any closer to confessing his feelings. Even when after night patrol he showed at her apartment to get patched up and stayed the night watching her sleep on the other side of the same bed, unable to even close an eye. Her obliviousness was no help, since she was always calling him a friend, a coworker, a team member, even a mate. It was killing him. 

“Why aren’t you sleeping?” she muttered shifting her position  a bit. She knew he was awake and there was no point denying “how are your injuries?” she reached towards his arm covered with fresh cuts almost touching it, but stopping a few millimeters away from the skin. Luckily for him, since he knew her single touch would make him burn. He wanted to kiss her, to do more – to make her feel good, to make her his and only his…….. Dirty thought and images was now creeping in his mind “Dick?” she frowned “you are distracted, officer”. That last word and her body so close made him jump out of the bed immediately, terrified his self-control was failing him.

“I’m fine. I’m gonna get some water. Go back to sleep, you need to rest.”

“But…”

“No buts. Sleep. I’m taking the couch.”

He did not get any rest that night. Crazy dreams that could never happen were enough to keep him up.

***

She got hurt. Because of him. Because of his recklessness and distraction. He shouldn’t have left her alone. Y/N was just doing her job, securing the evidences. Every other detective was in the other room of the house when shooters came through the door, firing their guns in every possible direction. Before anyone could react three policemen where bleeding, and one was dead.

“Shit! Y/N!” Dick hissed and rushed to the place where she was hoping nothing happened. He managed to disarm three of the attackers on the way, but judging from the sound she was dealing with the fourth, doing pretty good job. Even if blue lanterns were never considered the fighters, she was an exception, years in Titans and Hal’s upraise giving her exceptional skills in hand-to-hand fight, blue constructs adding to that. She was spinning, ducking and sliding, creating blue daggers and blades, going for the win when she saw him. A second of hesitation was enough for the opponent and she ended up with a knife in her stomach and  blood flowing everywhere. The last thing she felt was a pair of strong arms embracing her and lifting her up, holding close to wide chest whispering the most cliché words – it’s gonna be ok.

And now she was on the ICU, looking small and pale in hospital bed with Dick sitting on the uncomfortable chair holding her cold hands.

“Detective Grayson?” doctor’s voice made him stand up immediately “she’s going to be fine. No serious damage was done, luckily the blade missed the organs by an inch. And this girl, she’s strong, a fighter.”

“You have no idea, doctor. Thank you.”

“Just doing my job.” The MD shrugged but smiled happily “you got couple minutes left, and then she’ll need rest.”

“Ok.” When the doctor disappeared he leaned over girl’s sleeping figure and lovingly kissed her forehead “I’ll take care of you.”

***

Year ago.

 “I need your help.”

“My help of Blue’s help?” she asked “wait, don’t answer. I know what it will be.”

“Of course you do.” she could tell he rolled her eyes on the other side of the phone line.

“So? what’s the case? Go on. I got work.”

“There’s this girl. Her name is Rachel…..”

“Wait, are you talking about the teenager that run away from the house? The one, whose mother was shot straight in the head?” Y/N voice came up an octave.

“Yes. Wait, how do you…..?”

“So it happens I’m at the crime scene, detective.”

“Right.” Of course, he should have known she would be called there right away. And he did not like the fact that he wasn’t there with her to keep her safe. He didn’t trust anyone else with that.

“Relax, Dick. Everyone’s safe and I know how to protect myself. I can’t understand why do I have to assure you of it every time you are not around. I thought you knew my killer skills.”

“I know, but remember what happened last time?”

“It was a year ago, you fool! And it was your fault.” He went quiet for a bit too long “Dick? Are you still there?”

“Yes.”

“I didn’t mean to make you feel guilty.”

“I know.”

“But you’re sulking. We’ve been through this. All is forgiven and forgotten. Now, what about this Rachel girl?”

“She’s like you. She has powers. And she’s terrified.”

“she just lost her mother, no surprise with that.”

“Not only about that. There’s something dark about her. Can you come?”

“Give me an hour.”

***

“Hey, you must be Rachel? I’m  a friend of Dick.”

“Where is he?” the girl truly was terrified

“Dealing with paperwork. He asked me to watch over you.”

“I don’t think it’s safe to be around me.”

“I can handle myself. Now, since I work on the case of …. Nevermind. Can you tell me what happened?” Y/N held Rachel’s hand trying to reach for the hope inside the girl.

“I…. I……”

“I won’t push you. But I know Dick promised to help you and I’m going to make sure he keeps that promise, all right?”

“Ok. I need help…..”

***

Today

“What exactly is the case of Dick and Y/N?”  Gar could not hold back the question

“Are you asking me?” Donna raised an eyebrow at the green haired boy.

“Well you are the only one here who knows about their past.”

“Yeah, everyone can tell he’s in love with her.” Rachel added “so why does she keep pushing his limits?”

“Well it’s not my story to tell” Donna scoffed “if you want to know anything you may as well go the subject of this discussion and …..”

“So you are now talking shit about me behind my back?” Y/N leaned on the doorframe and crossed he arms “come on, I;m a big girl I can handle anything. Donna?”

“Nope. I’m out. You can talk to the kids, they seem very interested about your past.”

“Really? Why? Rachel? Gar?”

“Y/N, I love you, but I need to speak with Dick. Gar can explain. Right, Gar?” she eyed him suggestively.

“What?” he frowned but soon the realization dawned on him “oh, yeah, right, sure. I’ll explain.” Rachel and Donna nodded and left leaving Y/N with the boy.

“So, what’s up shifter?”

“Why don’t you love Dick back?” Gar blurted before realizing his words

“What?” she was taken aback “what are you talking about?”

“Nothing.” He tried to escape but she was quick to pin him back to the chair

“Oh, no, no, no, no. You are not running away from me. Talk. Now.”

“Don’t shoot the messenger.” Gar raised both his hands in surrender “but how can you be so oblivious? Everyone knows he loves you and you miss all the signs!”

“that’s absurd! He’s just a friend. Which is a progress, since we were more like enemies at the beginning. And who’s everyone? And since when you are so gossiping?”

“Donna. Rachel. Kori. Me. Everyone! From what I can tell even Hank and Dawn get the message. And I’m not gossiping.” He sighed “Look Y/N, you are my best friend, you know it, right?” the girl nodded “and that’s why I care about your happiness.”

“But….”

“No, no buts. You are making two people unhappy. Three if you count me. Do you love him?”

“Gar…..”

“Do you?” he studied her face carefully, his tone now gentle. They only knew each other for a while but he already knew talking about and expressing emotions was not her stronger suit.

“I do….” She whispered looking down.

“Well I can assure you he loves you to. Why do you think Rachel went to talk to him?”

“You two are unbelievable.”

“And that’s why you love us” he grinned “now go talk to him.”

***

“Dick? Can we…. Can we talk?”

“I’m actually a bit busy.” He was tensed so his conversation with Rachel must have been emotional

“Come on, Dickie, I bet you have five minutes for me.” She came closer and put an hand on his arm from behind gently stroking his shoulder. Out of instinct he leaned more into her touch wanting more. “So, Gar talked to me.”

“About what?” he turned around making her hand drop and immediately missing the contact.

“You. And well.. um.. me being blind.”

“How so?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you what?”

“You know what!”

“Well maybe I’m tired of guessing!”

“Putting the pieces of information together is your job! So quit playing!”

Instead of soft conversation they were now yelling at each other. Not how it supposed to go.

“I hate you! All those years I held it back but I hate you!”

“Really?” She mocked “what do you hate about me the most?” she started circling him like a predator

“don’t do this.” He warned, his eyes glistening

“my blue light?” she took a step letting some of the aura out “or maybe my hands?” she brushed her fingertips on his arm causing him to close his eyes

“You’re walking down a dangerous path….”

“Sure, what’s new. Oh,I know” she faked surprise “I know what you hate about me the most.” She leaned close to him “I bet it’s my lips, right?”

He didn’t answer as he could not hold back anymore and closed the distance between them crashing his lips on hers. She was right. He hated those soft pink, plump and kissable lips he was dreaming about for so long. He hated her aura, full of hope. He hated her hands that patched him up so many times and that brought him comfort and sense of safety everytime she touched him. He hated what she was doing to him, how she was messing with his head, how vulnerable she was making him, he hated…..

“I love you” he whispered pulling away, letting his arms sneak around her waist, holding her tight, not wanting to let go. “I loved you since the day you showed at the tower. I wanted you for so long.”

“Why did you hold it back? I really thought we were just friends. You were withdrawing every time I tried to…."

“Stop talking.” He pressed their lips together again, drunk on the feeling of her, craving her, tightening the embrace trying to get her closer than it was physically possible.

“Ouch, not that I’m complaining, but Dick that hurts. You’re strong, remember?” she whined as he started to crush her.

“Sorry. But I love you so fucking much. Feels good to say it.”

“Why don’t you let me try then?” she smirked locking hands on his neck and looking him straight into the eyes “Richard Grayson, I love you too. But you are an idiot! Why the hell didn’t you tell me?!”

“I was scared you would run away. You always displaced the emotions, so….”

“Dick, you dumbass. I am a lantern, I thrive on emotions, I just can’t let it consume me. Don’t want to turn into the red lantern, or worse – a black one. Do you know the latter drive on death?”

“Is that possible? For you to change color?"

“Don’t know, but I can’t risk it.”

“Well, I’ll make sure to provide you with hope if that’s what you need. Hope for us, for starters.”

“Ok, Mr. Grayson, so why don’t you kiss me again?”

“Gladly.” He would never get tired of holding, touching and having her. He was dead set on making up for the lost seven years.  

@somest1 @pinksirensong

#dc #dc imagine #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson imagine #nightwing x reader #nightwing x oc #dick grayson x you #nightwing x you #dick grayson #nightwing #batfamily x reader #dc titans #dc titans x reader #gar logan #garfield logan #beast boy #donna troy #wonder girl #rachel roth #raven #dick grayson fanfiction #dick grayson x y/n #nightwing x y/n #nightwing imagine #nightwing fanfiction

[s-sturn]

𖥔 SLUT!

summary: Matt ends up reuniting with his ex-girlfriend, making some feelings come back to the surface, but he was already dating Y/N.

warnings: cheating, kissing, sad, crying, ANGSTT!, there’s no happy ending, cursing, threats!!

part 2 (coming soon…)

masterlist!

THIRD PERSON POV

Matt walked the streets of Boston, taking Trevor for a walk.

He hummed small songs, until he bumped into someone very recognisable, Leah, his ex-girlfriend.

The brunette was in a relationship, but the feelings his heart felt when he hit his eyes on the blonde-haired girl was an emotion he never felt with Y/N.

The two started talking a lot, exchanged numbers and scheduled to leave to see each other again. As the week Y/N went by, he realized that Matt was on his phone a lot, laughing, and ended up forgetting his own girlfriend.

The brunette felt upset during the days she saw seeing Matt, who practically didn't care about Y/N. As the weeks went by, Matt started to leave the house a lot, something that was not normal for the boy, after all he hated to leave the house.

The light-eyed boy never let Y/N, who was his own girlfriend touch his phone again, which made the girl very suspicious of it, after all, Matt was never like that.

This weekend, Y/N would go again to the house of the triplets, at this time the brunette and Chris were extremely close, and this was good for the girl who overnight stopped receiving attention from her boyfriend, who before wiped her tears and today is the cause of them.

Matt had invited Leah to go to the boy’s house, which was dangerous, but the two did the same way.

The blonde entered hidden inside the triplet house, the fact was that Matt forgot that Y/N would also be there. As always, Y/N went up the stairs going to greet her boyfriend, if she could call him that. But when he opens the door he is faced with the scene that broke his heart, Matt kissed his ex-girlfriend on his bed.

━━ What the fuck is that? ━━ Y/N's voice came out crying, while the girl looked disappointed at the boy, as well as his brothers.

━━ Y/N! Fuck! I can explain! ━━ Matt quickly walked away from Leah running after Y/N but his brothers tried to stop him

━━ Explain what? That you were kissing your ex? I've already seen that! ━━ Y/N's eyes teared as she tried her best to hold back the tears that threatened to fall.

━━ Slut, didn't you see that you got in the way of my moment with my future boyfriend? ━━ The girl with blonde hair mocked.

━━ Bitch, go fuck yourself and shut up your rotten mouth. ━━ Nick told Leah totally angry with her and Matt.

I leave the house quickly, hiding the tears that finally fell, Matt ran after me calling me, I just ignored him going away to never look him in the face again.

A few weeks after the breakup, Matt and Leah finally took over the return of their relationship, which broke my heart.

Soon I get a message from Chris, asking if I would like to go to the ice cream parlor with him, which I am afraid of, but I end up accepting.

We spent the day having fun, and I ended up being distracted for a few moments about everything that was happening.

A few minutes after I arrive at my apartment, I see the publication of a gossip page, saying that after Matt takes over his relationship with Leah, Chris appears in an ice cream parlor next to me.

I opened the comments of the publication coming across several people cursing me as a slut, whore and even home destroyer, saying that Matt separated from Leah because of me and that now Chris and Matt have moved away because of me too.

I opened my dm, coming at threats from several people, calling me a traitor, without me having done anything.

That killed me once and for all, that I'm literally being hated, for having liked a boy.

tell me who I am, guess I don’t have a choice

all because I liked a boy.

taglist.

@junnniiieee07

answer this post if u want to be in my taglist!

#matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo angst #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #nick sturniolo #nick sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo x you #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo x you #s sturn