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corroded-hellfire · 5 months

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My gorgeous soulmate. The love of my life. I can’t stop thinking about Reader waiting for a ride and accidentally overhearing Eddie talking to the Hellfire guys about some beautiful girl and how he’s afraid to ask her out. Reader assumes it’s someone else and leaves because she’s upset and doesn’t want him to see her. Bonus points for wingman Dusty Bun, but not necessary. Okay love you byeeeeee xoxoxo @munson-blurbs 💚

Hello, my darling dearest. I hope you enjoy this and I love you too! 💕

Words: 1.5k

Band practice ran late, but that didn’t matter one bit. Your older brother was always running behind to pick you up, leaving you the lone person sitting outside the school, waiting. Usually, you had a book with you, but you’d finished your last one and hadn’t gotten a chance to check a new one out of the library today. Honestly, the fierce autumn wind may have prevented you from reading anyway; the pages would be obeying Mother Nature, not you. The wind whistles and whips so viciously that you slide off of the brick wall you’re sitting on top of and seat yourself on the cold sidewalk, pressing as close to the wall as you can to avoid the harsh blowing.

Luckily, the gust eases up and you only end up having four leaves stuck to your clothing. As you’re picking them from your gray sweater, you hear the telltale squeak of the main doors of the school opening. Your brow creases in confusion because you didn’t realize anyone else was here this late. The dark evening has your mind floating back to the dozens of slasher movies you’ve seen that started with this very scenario. Taking care to be as quiet as possible, you tuck your legs up against your body as you hug your backpack to your chest.

“Damn Eddie, I’ve never heard you talk this way before.”

The voice is vaguely familiar. Nancy’s brother maybe? Right! He’s in Hellfire with Eddie Munson, who must be the Eddie he’s speaking to. An involuntary smile curls on your lips at the boy you’re head over heels for being just a few feet away. The closer they get, the easier it is for you to hear the thunk of the metalhead’s boots coming down the sidewalk.

“Ugh, I know,” Eddie says, a hint of a whine in his happy-go-lucky voice. “But she’s so fuckin’ beautiful.”

The butterflies in your stomach sour, churning at hearing Eddie talk this way about some girl. He’s not doing anything wrong, and logically you know that. He doesn’t owe you anything. But irritation bubbles up in you as a defense from the heartbreak you’re desperately trying to run away from. Your fingers dig into your backpack as you squeeze your eyes closed to prevent the tears from leaking out.

“Ask her out!” That voice was Jeff’s—from your history class.

Eddie scoffs and you can just picture him shaking his head, his frizzy curls swaying back and forth. The thought of Eddie asking a girl out forces the hot tears to leak down your face, despite how tightly you’ve been keeping them closed.

“Like she would want to go out with me,” he says.

Now your heart also breaks for Eddie. Who could be so stupid as to not want to go out with him?

“Aww, I think you’re scared,” another voice goads. Probably the curly-haired boy that’s friends with the Wheeler boy.

“I’m not scared,” Eddie says. “I’m just…afraid.”

“That’s the same thing!” Wheeler says before you hear a thump and the boy mutters an, “Ow!”

“Shut it, Wheeler. I don’t want to hear shit from you or Henderson on girls. Both of your girls live far away. Huh, kind of convenient, isn’t it?” Eddie asks. “They’re probably as real as the damn hair on top of Higgin’s head.”

“Hey!” Wheeler shouts.

“That’s bullshit!” the boy who must be Henderson shouts at the same time.

“You guys are letting him change the subject,” Jeff says. “When are you going to ask her out?”

Instead of giving an answer, you can hear Eddie grumbling under his breath the closer they get to you. It won’t be long now before they’ll walk past the wall and see you sitting on the ground. Waiting for a ride is easy enough to explain, but the tear tracks running down your face are a different matter.

Before the group of guys can get any closer, you carefully push yourself onto your knees. Balancing yourself against the wall with one hand, you seek out somewhere you can hide. The corner of the wall is pretty far away, you’d never be able to crawl there fast enough. If you stand up though, you could walk that distance. Realizing crouching down so far is going to kill your back, you push up to your feet and keep your torso and head low as you speedwalk to the corner of the wall.

Luckily, it’s just a grassy lawn on the other side of the wall, so you throw yourself down on it and catch your breath. Unluckily, you hear the piercing whine of your brother’s car pulling up towards Hawkins High. Fuck. Of course he comes now.

You peek out from your safe space around the wall and see that Eddie and the rest of the Hellfire gang are climbing into Eddie’s van. A rush of breath leaves your lungs and you’re sure your adrenaline is about to come crashing down.

Your brother pulls up to the curb and you push yourself off of the grass and quickly slide into the passenger’s seat.

“Uh, you okay?” your brother asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Fine,” you huff. “Just go.”

Like the piece of gum you’d stepped in last week, the sharp pains in your heart stay with you much longer than you’d like. The next day, right before last period, you’re at your locker, switching out your books and hoping your eyes don’t look as puffy as they feel.

“Uh, hey.”

The voice makes you jump and drop your biology book. You don’t have to turn around to know who it is; you’d know that voice anywhere. It’s just never been so close to your ear before.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry,” Eddie says as he bends down to pick up your book. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“No, it’s okay,” you manage to say as you turn around to face him. “Thank you,” you say as he gives you your science book back.

Eddie clears his throat and glances over his shoulder before looking back at you—or rather, your shoes. Curious, you follow the line of sight where Eddie had just looked, and you see the curly-haired boy from Hellfire peeking around the corner. Henderson. As soon as he notices you looking, he pops back out of sight.

“I, uh,” Eddie says as he finds the courage to meet your eye. “Hey.”

“You said that,” you say with a shy smile. “But then I freaked out, so…hi.”

The smile Eddie gives you isn’t his biggest by far, but it still makes your knees go wobbly.

“You’re in band, right?” Eddie asks, reaching up and scratching the back of his neck.

“I am.”

“Yeah. So, I was wondering if maybe after the game this Friday you might want to grab a bite to eat? With, um, me?”

The world freezes around you, time completely stopping. Your body is locked in place as you stare at Eddie with wide eyes. He just asked me out, you think. Why would he ask me out? He thinks that other girl is beauti—holy shit. I’m the beautiful girl he was talking about? This defies all that you thought you knew in the world. Is this a parallel universe where guys actually like you back? You realize you’ve just been staring at him since you spoke.

“Yeah. T-That sounds nice,” you say.

“Really?” Eddie’s eyes light up and your heart comes to a halt inside your chest.

“Yes,” you say with a small chuckle.

“Wow. Awesome. Okay, wow.” His disbelief shocks you. How in the hell was he afraid to ask you out? You’re just…you. He gives you a wider grin now before tugging up the sleeve of his leather jacket. “Do you have a pen?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah!” You grab a pen from your locker and write down your number on Eddie’s pale skin, right below a colony of inked bats.

“Great,” Eddie says as he pulls his sleeve back down. “Um, I’ll wait in the gym after the game?”

“Sure. It’ll only take me a few minutes to change and get everything put away.”

“Awesome,” Eddie says again, and seeing him acting this nervous just tickles you pink. You’re not sure you’ve ever heard him say “awesome” before and now he’s said it twice within the last minute. “I guess I’ll see you in English tomorrow.”

“Sounds good. Oh, Eddie, wait. You’re going to go to the game?” You raise your eyebrows in disbelief. “I thought you hated basketball.”

“Oh. Well, I do,” he says with a chuckle. “Easier to take you out after the game if I’m there, though. And, uh, you know, Sinclair’s been bugging me to come see him play.”

“Right,” you say.

Eddie’s cheeks turn a light red as he gives you a bashful smile.

“See you later, beautiful,” he says. He doesn’t give you time to even react to his words before he’s heading down the hall.

“Holy shit,” you whisper to yourself. “I make Eddie nervous?”

A jovial giggle slips past your lips as you close your locker. You feel like you owe the Hellfire guys a thank you.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #request

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natalievoncatte · 17 days

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Lena squared herself up after she stepped from the elevator.

This has taken considerable work. She’d had to arrange for her absence from boarding school to go unnoticed, or at least, unremarked upon. If Lillian got wind of her running away, she’d have been skinned alive. Perhaps literally. Since her adoptive father’s death, she’d actually looked forward to school, and to being away from Lillian’s abuse. Lex was now the only thing keeping her from Lena, and Lex was preoccupied with his project.

Her brother had been away for school for some time, but they had summers off together at least. When Lex took over the company when he turned 21, he grew distant and aloof, spending more time with his friend Clark or at work than with family.

With his absence came Lillian.

Still, she had managed to build a support network. Frank, her bodyguard-slash-driver was Lex’s man, but he was useful. Lena had spent months buttering him up to participate in her plan: she needed wheels.

In the meantime she’d acquired blackmail material. The head master at the school gave her a broad latitude after she implied that she might expose certain proclivities of his. That gave her the time away she needed. She’d carefully negotiated a higher allowance from Lex in exchange for accelerating her studies in anticipation of beginning her undergraduate studies at sixteen, which was a triviality for her anyway.

Lena walked down the hall, heart pounding against the backpack clutched to her chest. Each step felt heavy, alive with portent.

She could turn back now. She could turn her back now.

What if she was wrong? Paranoid, addled, as crazy as her mother, just like Lillian said? What if she was about to not only blow up her whole life, but slander her brother. If this went sideways, she didn’t know what exactly would happened to her, but Lillian had once, while tipsy on whisky from Lionel’s stash, told Lena that if not for Lex, she’d have Lena garroted with piano wire and buried on the estate, and like any bag of trash, no one would notice she’d been disposed of.

When she told Lex, her hands shook like leaves. He looked at her for a long cold moment and she worried that he’d slap her or scream or throw her out of the house, but he simply said, “I’ll talk to her about it.”

He did. She never made another threat.

He also brought her a wooden box, ornate and polished. Lex sat next to Lena and opened the box, showing her the contents, lying on red velvet. A five shot snub nose revolver and two speedloaders.

“I’ll teach you how to use this,” Lex said, grimly. “I know you’re smart enough to know if you need to. If anyone tries to harm you, kill them. I’ll clean it up.”

Lena had been terrified of it for months, even as she enjoyed the shooting lessons from Lex, given in a remote part of the estate near a burbling creek, the shots cracking the morning peace and shaking dew from leaves.

She had the gun in her backpack, and her hands were shaking.

The other contents of her bag were a weapon far more devastating. She was about to fire it and she’d have to accept the consequences.

Finally, she stood outside the door. Apartment 18B. The name on the lease was Lois Lane, but according to Lena’s reconnaissance, Clark Kent had been living with her virtually full time for the last six months, not long after something changed in his relationship with Lena’s brother.

Lena’s hand hung before the door for a good minute before she knocked, weekly. She hadn’t considered what might happen if they were simply not home. Her legs felt watery and her eyes burned. She knocked again. She was committed now.

The door swung open and Lois Lane stood before her. She was beautiful in an understated way, obscured by limp hair in a chaotic bun, rumpled clothes, and the stink of coffee on her breath.

“Who- what? Kid, what do you want?”

“I need to see Clark Kent. Is he here?”

“Who’s asking?”

“Lena Luthor.”

There was a gust of wind behind her, and Kent stepped into view.

“Lena?” said Clark. “Lex’s little sister? What are you doing here?”

Lena’s throat went tight. She swallowed hard, and as she anticipated, his demeanor changed. He softened. He craned forward slightly, studying her intently, and his brows shot up when looked at her bag.

He was checking her vital signs and he’d spotted the gun. In the bag.

“He knows you’re Superman,” Lena choked out, “and he’s going to kill you.”

Lois glanced at Clark with a stunned, stunned wide expression. Then, she grabbed Lena and yanked her inside, slamming the door. Lena squeaked.

“How do you know that? Lex knows? Did he tell you? What do you mean he wants to kill Clark?”

“Hey,” Clark said, crouching beside Lena to bring himself to her level, resting a comforting hand on her slight shoulder. “Take a breath, Lena. You’re safe here.”

In Lena’s plan, she was going to begin explaining, starting with how she deduced his identity and lay out what she discovered in his files. That was her plan, but no plan survived first contact with the enemy.

Lena began to sob.

Superman knelt beside her and removed his glasses, and enveloped Lena Luthor in a warm, protective hug. She sobbed harder, burying her face in his shoulder.

“Jesus Christ,” Lois whispered.

She drew the gun out of the bag and checked it with professional, practiced familiarity, dumping the shells into her hand.

“I think she’s telling the truth.”

Clark nodded.

Over the next hour, Lena was swept to Lois’s big couch and sat in the middle while the pair sat on either side of her. When she was hungry, Clark went out to get her favorite guilty pleasure meal, a big greasy burger and fries, and a milkshake too. Between bites, she explained everything, telling them about her brother’s insane plan to turn the sun red.

They believed it all. Lena had receipts.

Eventually, Lena was exhausted, everything had been said, and she sat with dull shock on the couch and stared at the black mirror of a blank television set, marveling at how small and helpless she looked, like a drowned rat.

“Why don’t you lay down for a while?” Lois said, gently. “Here, I’ll put something on the TV for you.”

Lena didn’t make it ten minutes in before she was asleep, curled tightly on one end of the couch with a pillow under her head.

She woke sometime later. It was dark now and she heard voices on the far side of the apartment.

“I called Bruce. He said he’s in, and he’s bringing reinforcements. I’m going to try to get a Green Lantern on board. We have to move fast. Nevermind me, if Lex does this, millions of innocent people will die. We’ll have to move fast.”

“What about the girl?” said Lois. “She can’t go home now. We have to get her somewhere safe.”

“I have to get you both somewhere safe. I should probably come up with a reason to get the building evacuated. One Lex realizes he’s been caught out, he’ll come after both of you.”

“You’re right.”

“I want you to go out,” said Clark. “Make it look like you’re heading out to a convenience store. Bruce is sending Alfred to pick you up, he should be here in an hour. I have somewhere else in mind for Lena.”

“Where?”

“It’s better if I don’t tell you, just in case.”

When he emerged from the back bedroom, Clark Kent was resplendent, clothed in the persona of Superman.

“Lena?” he said, gently. “We have to go. I’ll take you somewhere safe, where your brother won’t find you.”

Lois joined him. “You’re going to put on some of my clothes, and I’m going to check your hair. You can’t take anything with you. Lex Luthor might have been tracking you the entire time.”

Lena’s stomach dropped. What if she was right? That might be a move Lex would play, tracking Lena so that he could use her against his enemy. Lex had become cold, single minded. Lena was wondering how long it would be until she was disposable.

“Okay,” said Lena.

“I’m going to have to fly you.”

Lena did as she was told. She put on an outfit that belonged to Lois, a hilariously oversized Gotham U sweatshirt and leggings. When it was time, Superman bundled her up in his cape.

“I’m scared of heights.”

“I would never drop you,” he said.

Lena screamed when he took off. She was glad for the cape, glad she couldn’t see the ground. She curled up around him and pressed her eyes tightly closed, wondering exactly how fast they were going.

The landing came surprisingly fast. He’d alighted on the grassy lawn of a lovely beach house. Lena smelled something baking and heard voices inside. Clark knocked on the door.

A girl, a little older than Lena, opened the door. Golden curls spilled over her muscular shoulders, and she wore an oversized pair of glasses that did nothing to dull the endless depths of her blue eyes. There was something profoundly sad behind the curiosity in those eyes. She looked at Lena with mild confusion.

Lena stared back. There was a wild stirring in her stomach, and she shifted uneasily on her feet.

Then, the girl addressed Clark in a rapid, clipped, and utterly strange sounding language.

It hit Lena like a shockwave.

They were speaking Kryptonian.

“Lena,” said Superman, turning to her. “This is Kara Zor-El, my cousin. The last daughter of Krypton.”

#supercorp #supergirl fanfiction #supergirl #supercorp fanfic #lena luthor #kara danvers #kara x lena #karlena #supergirl fanfic #ficlet #runaway Lena #my headcanon is that Kara is older #teen supercorp romance #Lillian Luthor is a rancid bitch #teen Lena was adorkable #Kara has jock tendencies but is only jock adjacent #You can have a little butch Kara as a treat

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solarisfortuneia · 2 months

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— 𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐬.

and the smell of camphor dancing in the wind.

✦ info: he didn't know he'd lose you so soon. (come back, please. even if it is just for five more minutes.)

✦ featuring: alhaitham.

✦ warnings: angst, character death (reader), heartache, 1.2k words, somewhat proof-read.

✦ notes: i cried so goddamn hard writing this. why is my first work after hiatus pain. why did i pick up the angst wip. but!! i'm writing again, so that's good. (more notes at the end.)

he didn’t know that it was your last day together.

he didn’t know that the smile you gave him that afternoon, your eyes sparkling like sunlight upon the serene waves of the ocean, would be the last he’d ever see. that the playful light in your gaze would fade so very soon, slipping through his fingers like sand.

he didn’t know that last night would be the last time he held you close while you drifted off to sleep. he didn’t know that today would be the last time he’d wake up with you.

he didn’t think he’d lose you like this.

he didn’t think he wouldn’t be able to save you from that blow.

“please, please,” he begs, both to you and to whatever force that is just barely holding you together. “just stay with me for five more minutes, please. until i can get you somewhere.”

the rain soaks him to the bone, clothes and hair sticking to his skin. your lips stay motionless, eyes shut.

“wake up, please,” he bargains. “you can have all the five minutes of extra sleep you want later, i promise. just—” his vision blurs, and something shines on the ground before it is gone, swallowed by damp earth, lost amidst drops of falling rain.

desperately, he tears off parts of his traveling cloak to staunch the bleeding. deep inside, he knows it is futile. he knows your wound is too great. he knows what lies ahead. but he cannot help but press the cloths to your wound and pray.

please, please tell me it’ll be okay.

please stay with me, beloved. i’ll read you all the books in the world. i’ll sleep in with you everyday, even if we end up whiling away our time.

please. stay. stay with me. i can’t lose you yet.

“— just wake up, beloved.”

by some miracle, your eye flutters. just a bit. just enough to set hope ablaze, just enough for the grip on his heart to loosen a tiny bit. he buries his face in your shoulder, resting his head against your neck, uncaring of the blood that stains his clothes. your blood. on his clothes. his hands. everywhere.

no. no. this can’t be happening.

he feels you strain beneath him, your unwounded arm gently, weakly brushing his back. he jolts upright, eyes trained on your face. you send a frail smile his way. he clasps your face softly as you nuzzle into his palm.

“alhaitham—”

his full name. archons, how long has it been since you called him that?

“— take good care of yourself, okay?” you tell him, chest heaving, your fingertips touching a tear on his cheeks. “i love you. so much.”

those are the last words he hears fall from your lips. he presses a kiss to your forehead, to your eyelids, and to your cheeks and to your lips, over and over and over until he feels your breath slow, hoping they’ll say what he knows he cannot manage to choke out.

i love you.

he stays there next to you for who knows how long, holding you until the rain slows and a faint rainbow smiles in the sky.

until he can’t smell camphor anymore.

—

every person has their curiosities.

they’re just the little traits that set them apart from others, the things that make them tick just a little bit differently, the things that make them, them.

for instance, someone may be obsessed with collecting tiny furniture, while another eats the crusts off their sandwich before actually consuming it. someone may have an affinity for the most niche aspects of linguistics, while another can accurately predict the next raindrop that slides down a window pane.

after all, no two people are exactly alike, are they?

alhaitham knows he’s got his fair share of these curiosities himself. his aversion to soup and all things that resemble it, to name one. and with you, he’d noticed two things.

number one: the scent of camphor that seems to linger on every inch of your person.

he’d caught whiff of it almost immediately the first time you met. you were but one of his juniors in the akademiya, filled with bright-eyed curiosity and anxiety to match. you had tripped over a stair and bumped into his table in the library, bringing the mountain of books in your arms crashing down.

and with subsequent coincidental meetings, he learnt that the subtle scent of camphor dancing in the air meant you weren’t far away.

you were, unfortunately, one of the poor souls who seemed to be cursed with constantly recurring minor illnesses, and almost always walked about with a stuffy nose. and so, you always carried a small disc of camphor in a handkerchief, as well as in your pocket.

you swore up and down, left, right and center that sniffing the vapors helped make breathing easier.

‘it’s my grandmother’s remedy, alhaitham! camphor always works wonders. well, that and eucalyptus oil.”

alhaitham may not know the validity of your claim or the legitimacy of the cure, but he knew to never, ever question a grandmother’s remedy. that, and he’d much rather refrain from starting a back-and-forth about something so small.

and number two: your neverending pleas of different variations of ‘just five more minutes!’

“five more minutes, ‘haitham. please.” you’d whine grumpily when he woke you up to start your day. “let me sleep in for five more minutes.”

“five more minutes, habibi,” you’d ask when he put down the story you’d requested he read out to you before bedtime. “read me the part where she finds the music box?”

“five more minutes, baby,” is what you’d tell him when he asks how much longer you’d take getting ready. “you can’t rush perfection!”

those five more minutes were never five minutes long.

but he’d always, always indulged you and those pleading eyes of yours. as stoic as he appeared to be, you lived in his heart. of course he could never deny you anything under the sun.

—

alhaitham remembers that silly little song you sang over and over, the one you’d learnt from a kid in the bazaar. he’d taken you to see one of nilou’s performances, and, friendly soul that you were, you’d struck up a conversation with some of the eager audience members before the play.

“oh, how i wish i was a bird flying free,

i’d see the world, every mountain and every sea!

oh, how i wish i was a cloud in the sky,

wouldn’t you like to wave to me as i pass by?”

you’d hum that rhyme on every idle afternoon.

loss is inevitable. he knows that, with how logical and rational and straightforward he is. he’d lost his parents, but he was far too young to remember. he’d lost his grandmother, but she passed in her sleep of old age, serene and wise.

but you? he didn’t think you’d leave him this soon. a singular wish sits in his soul, making its home in his bones.

a wish that you’d come back, somehow.

he wishes you gave him five more minutes, just as he always did. but he knows that you could’ve given him five more hours, five more days, five more years and five more decades and it would still not be enough time spent with you.

a blue feathered bird comes to perch on his shoulder, interrupting his musings just as he raises his face to the sky. he sees the heart shaped cloud that floats idly above sumeru city.

he thinks of the rhyme again, and something in him tells him to wave. and so he does. a scent so familiar lingers, faintly brushing his nose in the wind that picks up.

“alhaitham, it's time to go.” kaveh calls his name softly.

alhaitham doesn't move. “five more minutes,” he says, echoing your favorite phrase. “i smell camphor in the breeze.”

✦ extra notes: my alhaitham characterization for this fic stems from how i believe that when alhaitham is attached, he's attached. so i focused more on that, and less of all that rationality and whatnot. this one loves deeply, yk?

that camphor thing is a real grandma remedy in our household (my mom would tie some in a hanky and put some under my pillow and still to this day reminds me to do it when i'm sick) which is what originally sparked the idea for this

when i'd initially started this wip, i didn't expect it go this way. usually i write with my brain, but i think i wrote this one with my fingers working faster than i can think hsjhsj so sorry if it's kinda out of place lmao but yk what? i'm happy with it still even though i feel like it doesn't have my usual quality.

thanks for reading.

#—🖋#・ nouveau livre ˎˊ˗#astronetwrk #genshin x reader #alhaitham x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #alhaitham x you #genshin x you #emotional blabbering ahead in the tags beware #this is hitting me in a place i didn't know existed hjsjs #like. i haven't lost anyone but i have lost my life as i know it?#this past year was full of so many endings and i've been struggling in some way everyday #like i didn't know that the last time i saw my friends would truly be the last time we ever saw each other #i didn't know that i'd be bidding goodbye to my parents as i left home through an airport #ANYWAY ENOUGH DUMPING. ig i'm just telling you to hug the people you love tighter and cherish every moment you spend with them #time goes by really quickly and you don't know where it'll go #ily guys #ew barf feelings </3 /j

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dragonsholygrail · 1 month

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In The Wind

Astarion Ancunin X Reader

a/n: This came to mind specifically because of the scene in 2005 Pride and Prejudice where Bingley is trailing after Jane and touching the ribbon on her dress. So keep that in mind bc it haunts me in the best way

summary: After your tunic gets torn in battle, you and Astarion head to a shop to get materials to get it fixed. Astarion, trapped in thoughts surrounding you, decides to do something to properly show his appreciation

word count: 2k

The day was cool, the breeze blowing through the opened door of the fabric store you and Astarion currently walked through. The others were Gods knew where but Astarion didn’t particularly care where they were. His thoughts were on you. More and more he found that his thoughts always came back to you.

Baldur’s Gate was loud. It has always been loud. Something Astarion remembered specifically. But he found the sound drained out as he stared down at a beautiful ribbon. At first he couldn’t exactly say what about it had caught his attention. What kept it. But upon reflection he noted how it reminded him of your eyes.

Cursing himself under his breath, Astarion threw down the ribbon and glanced away from the pile of fabrics. But just as his eyes lifted from the box, they fell right onto you. You who stood right in the sunlight, whose hair flowed through the wind that passed through the store.

He couldn’t look away from you, once again not really believing that you somehow cared about him. You were so… good. It was honestly almost nauseating. But it was also something he admired about you. It made him want to be better. To be better than what he was before. Most importantly for him. But he couldn’t deny he also wanted to be better for you. To be someone you could be proud to love.

Astarion walked around one of the makeshift aisles of the store. You were busy as you looked over some of the patches of fabric while Astarion was busy as he watched you. He didn’t blame you for not having noticed his stare. You were on a mission after all. Your tunic had been badly torn in your party’s last battle. The tear could easily be mended by you and the enchantments on it could be replaced by Gale if he was going to actually be helpful today.

But Astarion knew you weren’t the most gifted tailor. At least, not better than him. He could do a fine job, he’d been doing it with his own clothing for longer than he’d care to admit. A rare warmth spread through his chest as the idea came to him. When you least expected it, he’d take the fabric from you and fix your tunic before you even noticed it would be missing.

Something in him told him he just had to do this. To show you he cared, at least enough to do something as little at this… and to show you that you weren’t making a mistake as you stuck by him. Astarion closed his eyes as he shook out those unwanted thoughts. Not wanting to think about any of that or what it meant.

When Astarion opened his eyes he’s met with you walking away, a long piece of fabric hanging from your belt. A brief shot of panic ran through Astarion as you walked away, only deeper into the store to pay for fabric. Yet that didn’t shake away the fear. Astarion cleared his throat in order to push down the panic and put it with the rest of his emotions he was ignoring before he headed after you.

He doesn’t say anything, knowing he doesn’t need to. He knows you know he’s there. The wind blew through the store once again and your scent wafted straight into Astarion’s nose. He closed his eyes as he continued to follow you. He relished in the way you smelled. Focused and memorized it, knowing he could pick it out of an entire crowd of people. Aware of the fact that he could find you in an instant if needed. But still he preferred to remain close. Have you stay in his sights.

As he opened his eyes and looked back upon you, his eyes moved down your form. Not stopping until they halt at the fabric on your belt. He hand reached out and lightly fiddled with the end of it that flowed in the air after you. Neither of you have stopped walking, Astarion not thinking as he walked behind you. His attention completely focused on the fabric and the way it hung off of you. On how beautiful it would look on you.

He then noted how soft the fabric was. How easy or difficult it could possibly be to work with. A plan already had formed in his head at how he’d stitch it into your tunic. It would be flawless, just as all his other work had been prior. Just as his thoughts shifted into imagining your reaction, your voice broke him out of it.

“Are you trying to pickpocket me?” You ask softly, not having bothered to check back and glance at him. Astarion blinked back, hand still gripped onto the fabric, though his eyes found their way to the back of your head. Before he realized what he’s done, an easy grin was on his face and a joke had slipped from his lips.

“You, my darling? Never,” Astarion jested, both of them keenly aware of the fact. He gave a little tug on the fabric for good measure and was rewarded with the sweet melody of your laugh. You shook your head as you both turned a corner, seemingly in search of an attendant.

“Oh, don’t give me that. No one is safe,” you teased right back but for some reason Astarion felt his grin drop a little. His brows furrowed as he quickly thought over your response. The word ‘safe’ having run repeatedly in his ear. He wanted you to feel safe. With him. He wanted you to know that you were safe from him. Whatever that meant he didn’t exactly know but it was what he felt. From what he could pin point.

He debated even telling you all this. To have allowed himself to randomly unleash his soul to you in the middle of a random shop in a city that held so many memories for him. But then he started to think about what you’d say in response. How you would react. Emotion begun to rise within him at the idea of admitting any of that to do. So instead he simply continued the light and fun banter.

“Well now I suppose I must for fear that I have something to prove.” Astarion gave another tug to the fabric, though this time a little bit lighter in order to have kept up the playful atmosphere. As your laughter echoed throughout the store due to his actions, all those pesky emotions subsided.

You lightheartedly pranced forward a few steps in a weak attempt to get your fabric out of his reach but Astarion followed right on your tail. Both to stop you from getting away and to stop any other displaced emotions from coming forth from your distance.

“Or you could simply not steal my fabric from my person,” you responded with laughter still in your tone. Astarion tsked as he shook his head at you. He picked up his pace, walking closer to you now. He adjusted his grip on the fabric, getting ready for his next move.

“No, darling, I’m afraid that doesn’t seem to be an option,” he said smoothly before he harshly tugged on the fabric for the third time. It slipped from your belt with ease and curled right around Astarion’s hand. You immediately felt it and a gasp ripped from your throat.

You turned around, finally facing Astarion since you both walked in here. You looked breathtaking. Astarion could marvel at your beauty for hours. At times he’d almost swear it’s greater than his own. Almost. But he especially thought your beauty shined most spectacularly in the sun, and it had hit you just right in this moment.

“Ah, Astarion! Why must you do this?” You asked with a light grin on your face. Astarion mirrored it, holding the piece of fabric slightly above his head as he knew you wouldn’t be able to reach it. That didn’t stop you from trying as you stepped up to him to try and reach for it. Your body pressed against his and instead of feeling like he needed to back away, not wanting to be touched, Astarion found himself leaning into you.

“I believe you practically asked me to do this, love. Begged me to almost as much as you beg for my attention,” he boasted, his expression smug as you continued to try and grab at the fabric. He’d lower it briefly just as you’d reached for it but then quickly bring it back up. You laughed again, shaking your head at him. Astarion didn’t realize until that moment that he had been counting the number of times he had made you laugh. The revelation sent a tremor through his chest that he’d rather just ignore.

“My dear Astarion, I think that tadpole in your mind has finally driven you to insanity,” you said with a light scoff. Astarion’s face dropped into a deadpan at that, though he couldn’t help the quirk of his lips still present.

“Dear me, how humorous you are, darling,” he responded back flatly, though a teasing note was still clear through his tone. His attention zeroed in on you once again as you snickered back at him. Astarion fell deeper into his focus, his ears ringing till he felt a deep pounding surrounding him. He didn’t realize before it was too late that he had focused on your heartbeat. It sounded light. Happy. Because of him.

While he remained distracted, his body sagged in place, not paying attention to his momentary lack of posture. You don’t hesitate to use that to your advantage as with it he had lowered his arm that held the fabric. You reached up, your arm having stretched as far as it could go before you swiped up the fabric right from his grip. A noise of victory left your lips and it effectively alerted Astarion. He blinked back, breaking out of his thoughts. It only took a couple of seconds for him to realize he didn’t have the fabric anymore. He met your smug look with a bit of disbelief as his eyes connected back to yours.

“I try,” you replied playfully to his previous comment as you winked at him. Astarion stood there frozen for a moment before he added another mental tally as you laughed once more. You strode off to barter with the owner as Astarion stood off to the side while he waited for you.

He couldn’t understand how easy this all was for you. How open with yourself you had always been. Especially toward him. He… didn’t know how to do stuff like that. To let you in so easily. But stitching this for you, even without your initial knowledge, that he could do. It was the only way he knew how to express what you meant to him. It was all he was ready to do. For now anyway.

So as you walked past him after you purchased the fabric, Astarion stayed particularly close. As you both entered the hustle and bustle of Baldur’s Gate’s streets, there were a lot of things around you both that served as proper distraction. Astarion struck when the time was right, just as another vendor started a loud argument with a customer, you looked over and that’s when Astarion reached out and slipped the fabric off of you with the lightest touch he could have managed.

He gazed down at it with a smile on his face and a sense of victory in his heart, his thumb brushed over it lightly as he reminded himself of its softness. But when you started to turn your head back to him, his eyes jerked up and the fabric disappeared within the confines of his inventory. You snorted as ruckus that continued off to the side and as you looked at him, Astarion plastered on another one of his signature grins.

It was only after you chuckled at him and looked back forward that Astarion found his grin had softened. He looked toward the streets just as you had as he counted down the minutes till you both got back to camp and he could get started. He wondered if you’d like it and what you’d say when you found out. Most of all though he wondered if you’d know what it meant. If you’d see through him as you always seemed to. Strangely, this time around he kind of liked that thought.

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your-nanas-house · 5 months

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Really, the last time?

◇ Pairing: student!Tom Riddle X professor fem!Reader

◇ Warnings: smut, dubcon, somnophilia at first, adult x adult, kissing, blowjob, Tom Riddle

◇ Summary: Miss Y/l/n finds herself pleasuring her student for the third time.

◇ Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English. Part 3 of The Beginning. Here the part 2

The cool night air continued to blow in through the open window of Miss Y/l/n's bedroom, the sky was cloudy and a drizzle was threatening to come in but the difference in temperature that the teacher felt on her skin was pleasant and calming— calming enough to put her into a deep but peaceful sleep.

Her smooth, feminine body laid on the soft mattress, a blanket lightly over her exposed thighs and in her arms while the rest was loosely covered by her lace nightgown and her noticable tiny underwear— which obviously matched her clothes.

It was probably part of a set. A set that Tom Riddle really liked, especially on his DADA professor.

Her chest continued to rise and fall, her breaths as calm as the atmosphere in that room— despite the intrusive presence of one of her students, who was standing in the darkness right next to the still magically lit fire of the stove.

His gaze was intense and dark, almost as calculating as his long, silent steps— Tom Riddle knew what to do and why he was there, he knew the inappropriateness of his actions but he didn't care at all.

The young adult craved his teacher's body, he had reached an almost physical need to receive her attention and feel her body against his.

Reason because he was there, standing over her limp body, his gaze studying everything she was unconsciously gifting him during that dark british night.

Tom stared for a few minutes before reacting, using his wand to slowly move Miss Y/l/n's sleeping body, removing the blanket with his pale long fingers as he slowly climbed onto the bed to get closer.

His breath got heavier when his hands started to stroke her smooth legs, starting from her ankles— he crawled between them slowly while his touch became more intense.

His fingertips slowly traced the length of her exposed legs as he brushed his nose against her warm skin, stopping a couple of seconds more against her inner thighs as soon as Miss Y/l/n moved slightly in her sleep.

After making sure that she wasn't waking up he continued his journey, pressing his nose against her clothed cunt to take a long sniff of her sex, earning a soft whine from her when his nose brushed against her clit— he wanted more, he really wanted to explore that part of her, feel that warm and wet feeling that his fellow Slytherins kept describing.

Not that night though, he was there for other reasons and he was going to fulfill his own needs before going back to his own room.

Tom moved further, opening slowly her nightgown, starting from the last button, exposing that way her lower tummy and slowly her round swollen breasts.

His gaze darkened as soon as he laid his eyes back on her tits, he studied their movements and how her nipples became hard in a couple of seconds because of the cold soft wind that hit them.

It was tempting and very arousing for the young man, he was already trying to keep his hips from grinding against her stomach— intrusive thoughts kept telling him to wrap his lips around one of them and suck at if like there wasn't a tomorrow.

So he did, he leaned down with his rosy lips slightly apart, stopping just when her right nipple was inside of them— he wrapped his lips around it, after licking them slowly and starts to suck almost like an infant. His hands went carefully to his pants and worked quickly on his buttons to free his painful hard cock, before using a spell to lubricate his left hand and started to tease himself without stopping to suck.

Miss Y/l/n kept letting out soft noises of pleasure, arching her back more into him before finally waking up, her hand in Tom's hair to press his face more against her right breast— her breath was quick and her face flushed, she should have pushed her own student away from her vulnerable body but she didn't.

She arched her back more, moaning his name softly, waiting till he moved to her other nipple as well to push him away from her chest; Tom didn't understand at first, he thought that she was trying to make him leave or just protest since his action where really unprofessional.

That didn't happened, Miss Y/l/n just bit her bottom lip as she pushed her breasts together, looking at him in an inviting way, letting him know that he could move closer so that she could adjust Tom's position and make his cock slip between her round boobs.

The sensation was new but still welcomed, Tom replaced her hands with his, holding and squeezing her chest together as he pleased while he moved his hips in a quick pace, fucking her breasts roughly— her tongue kept licking his tip every time she could reach it, tasting his precum, and her hands went in her lacy underwear to play with herself while her star student used her for his own pleasure.

It was messy and Tom's first time, his movements where sloppy but precise, his grip was tight and rough while his breath became heavier as the time passed.

His climax approached in a fast way when Miss Y/l/n placed her free hand at the base of his cock, lowering it just to play with his heavy, full balls— her mouth now wrapped around his tip, sucking it and accepting all his load as soon as the peak hit Tom like a train.

She came too, just by playing with her wet pussy and suck his cock dry, before letting go of him, allowing Tom to slowly lower his body breathless.

His body limp and exausted against hers, his forehead now resting on hers like his soft cock rested against her lower abdomen— their lips brushed against each other and he almost dive for a sloppy french kiss before disappearing in the dark and leave her alone in her room.

Taglist:

@gabile18 , @mrsfullbuster500 , @rex-ray , @elizamalfoyy, @eovjjj , @wife-of-magic-monkeys , @jeremiah-va1eska , @gothamchic16, @rabbiteggz , @dieg0brandos-wife , @rottenecstasy , @lazyexcuse , @teh-vampire-bunny , @lobotomy-lover , @slasher-smasher , @sleepycreativewriter

#tom riddle oneshot #tom riddle fic #tom riddle smut #tom riddle #tom riddle x you #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle fanfiction #professor!reader

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imninahchan · 3 months

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⌜ 𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮: strangers to lovers, my poor spanish skills, casual and unprotected sex [you can't do that, c'mon!], readerʼs a brazilian woman, some portuguese words, dirty talk, age difference, finger sucking, male oral, manhandling, light pussy spanking, ʽpapiʼ, dumbification, dacryphilia. ˚ ☽ ˚.⋆ ⌝

꒰ 𝑨𝑼𝑻𝑯𝑶𝑹ʼ𝑺 𝑵𝑶𝑻𝑬 ꒱ sooo never thought about posting something in eng but @femmechaotic (thx baby) showed me her translation and i gave it a second chance. This was originally written by me in portuguese, thatʼs why the reader is brazilian. Eng is not our first language, sorry for any mistakes, just posting for the fun of it♡

𓍢ִ໋🀦 HE'S THE KIND OF MAN YOU'LL ONLY MEET ONCE IN A LIFETIME ─────

You realized this from the moment you laid eyes on him for the first time. Sitting a couple of tables away from his, on the balcony of the hotel lobby.

You simply couldn't help but notice it: the thick strands of dark hair, how his hands run through it, as the gentle morning wind blowed. The basic white tank top, a coat hanging over the chair next to him at the table. His big and pointed nose, his eyes hidden mysteriously behind the lenses of the fancy sunglasses.

He's definitely not Brazilian. You could tell just by the food he chose from the buffet on his plate. Youʼre just so genuinely intrigued by the whole set of ongoings, obsessed with watching him, that you forgot about your own — boring — breakfast. The buns were cooling next to the black coffee in the porcelain cup.

You wanted to open the messaging app on your phone and send a sassy comment to your best friend, saying something like: “omg u won't believe how cute is the guy i just saw”, but you didn't even have time for that. The man raises his chin, with his attention shifting from the phone device in his hands to noticing your presence ahead.

You look down immediately, feeling as if you had committed a crime and you've just been caught in the act. You bite your lip, trying to hold down a childish smile, like a vicious little girl. Your palms starts sweating; suddenly cold. The intention was to keep yourself busy with the porcelain cup in the short meantime, trying to deal with the awkward sensation of being caught.

Itʼs not working, of course. You didn't know whether to drink or not, sometimes you try to sip the hot liquid, but you give up halfway through, lost like a robot in a breakdown. And when he raises his eyes once more, in the same direction as you looked for so long, the man's gaze meet yours again.

It feels, apparently, like youʼre going to faint, to actually die, Jesus! You've never felt so embarrassed in your entire life and you insist on thinking about how you're never gonna be able to eat, think or breathe while being in this crime scene — also known as the balcony of the hotel lobby.

“Get up, then!”, you think to yourself. You pick up on a couple of the cold buns from the plate, taking a sip of the — now cold — coffee, and walking towards the lobby. Like, damn, youʼre not even dressed up, maybe the clothes are not so bad but you donʼt even have any makeup on or hair done the way you liked it so much (and did it religiously every day).

But there is an actual explanation for you not being ready. The plan, initially, was just having breakfast and enjoying the view for a short period of time, so you could visit the downtown in Madrid afterwards. Now, you are running away like a criminal, with your mouth full of bread heading towards the elevator.

When you finally thought that the closing of the gray automatic doors would mean freedom, your heart has one more reason to flutter, as soon as the man steps into the cubicle before he could lose the sight of you.

You decide to chew more quickly, hiding the other roll of bun between your hands. Standing next to you, he takes off his pair of glasses, holding his coat and a crossbody bag.

He looks at you.

— Enzo — he says, and from the way he announced his name, you can tell by his accent that he speak Spanish. You swipe the back of your hand over your mouth, wiping away any remaining crumbs.

— Oi... hmm — You stammer the response in Portuguese, automatically panicking again for a few seconds when realizing that your brain couldn't think of a greeting, even in your first language. After some quick struggles, you tell him your name.

— ¿Eres de aquí? ¿de Madrid? (Are you from here? From Madrid?)

— Ahm... — You stutter, again (unfortunately). — Brasil!

He smiles.

— Ah, sí. Brasil... ¡Es un lugar magnífico! (Oh, yes. Brasil... It's a wonderful place!) — and praises. But his gaze turns sharp, he needs to know: “Entiendes lo que digo, ¿no?” (Do you understand what I say, right?)

— Sí, sí! (Yeah, yes!) — you return with a wide smile back at him, almost hyperventilating.

Your desperation is pathetically noticeable, itʼs cute actually. He watched you, smiles softly, almost like a chuckle. The curiosity gets into your nerves, you wanted to ask more questions, extend the conversation, but the elevator reaches your floor, and you leave, too withdrawn to say anything.

“Shit”, you curse at yourself, it wasn't so difficult to have a decent small talk, you should've said something, anything. You brood all day long, thinking you're such a dummy for missing the opportunity. Why did you have to act like a stupid teenager, huh? Then, after what happened, not even the museums — that you were so excited to visit — were fun anymore, no place in this goddamn city could take away that little thread of regret from you.

In the next day, however, you go down for some coffee at the same time as you did the other day, with the foolish intention of trying to see him again, and thatʼs it, it worked; like a freaking miracle. The man was sitting in an armchair in the lobby, it seemed like he was waiting for you too, what were the odds?

You can even feel your legs wobble.

— ¡Buenos días! (Good morning!) — he greets you. — ¿Cómo se dice ‘Buenos días’ en Brasil? (How do you say ‘Good morning’ in Portuguese?)

It takes a few seconds for you to think and say it back, ‘Bom dia’ (Good morning), you respond. He smiles.

— Es muy parecido (It's pretty similar) — he comments, awkwardly. Then, looks at the buffet, “¿Vamos?” (Shall we?)

Although he sometimes used terms that you completely donʼt know the meaning of and have to ask him to explain again, the conversation is, apparently, going very well. You discover that he is older, Uruguayan, and not Spanish as you immediately thought he was. You tell him a little about the country you come from, and he gets enchanted by the way your accent pronounces his name. Enzo. Paying attention to the ʽzʼ sound, unlike the pronunciation in Spanish.

it was with his company that you explored the city. The both of you went to a small square together, had some ice cream, met tourists hotspots, then chatted while exploring a little shop nearby. You hated to admit it but the situation was indeed romantic. Later in the afternoon, you were taken by him to a bar.

There, the conversation extended even further, including the beer you guys shared. When you didn't understand anything he said, (what was quite often in the conversation) you just laughed, your cheeks getting really hot and red from smiling that much. Honestly, you could leave him talking to himself for hours, just because you loved the husky sound of his deep voice and his pair of brown sparkling eyes.

It didn't mean that you were in love or anything, right? Besides, there was no way you could fall in love in such a short period of time.

But the heat you felt emanating from your own body definitely meant something. It could be because of the dark blue button-down shirt — these pieces never fail to be attractive, right? —, or the silver ring that caught your eyes every time he articulated with his hands in the air. Even his perfume... ah, the perfume! A fragrance that filled your lungs, woody but with a slight sweet note. Projecting all day long, torturing, practically inviting you to bury your face in the curve of the moreno's neck.

At nighttime, he takes you back to the hotel: his excuse was that he wanted to help you with the shopping bags, as if you had bought all of Madrid. And it was supposed to end there, at your hotel room door, simple as that. He hands you your things, and the most he does is lean over, slowly, as if he is silently asking for permission, and so, he places a small kiss on the corner of your mouth, millimeters away from touching your lipstick-painted lips. But you hold his hand, before the man walks away down the hall, you donʼt let him escape.

He approaches you again, his other hand touches the corner of your face. Warm, affectionate. ¿Qué te pasa, nena? (What's wrong with you, baby?) The focus of his brown eyes are on your mouth now, the question is whispered, seductive. The touch of his fingers bypass your jaw until it gets on your chin. ¿Quieres algo más que un beso? (Do you want something more than a kiss?)

Youʼre not sure which words to use, which command to prefer. In fact, you donʼt even want to be thinking. You want to shut your brain, to be so dissociated so that only your body can enjoy the moment. You wrapp your arms around him, your face can finally hid in the curve of his neck, breathing in the intoxicating scent of his. You hear the sound of his chuckle, feeling his big hands being placed on your waist. ¿Qué quieres? Dímelo. (What do you want? tell me)

You look up to him, shy. The tip of your nose rubs against his, creating a friction that, just because of the absurd proximity, makes everything even more tense, burning erotic.

— No Brasil — you say, trying to hide it by biting your lip —, se diz ‘foder.’

Enzo's smile grows, almost in slow motion. “Foder” (fuck), he repeats the word in a whisper. Again, you donʼt even have to think much to understand. Everything sounded similar, and it seemed that your mind was connected to his by a chaotic carnal desire.

The Uruguayan's lips meets yours; his hot tongue brushes against yours. Your bodies take on a life of their own. Little by little, the main setting stopped being the hotel hallway and became your room. The door gets closed with a gentle push from his feet, while the chosen path is towards your bed.

His hands moves up from your waist to grab your blouse and take it off from your warm body. When you lay on the mattress, supporting on your elbows, itʼs the cue the man needeed to messily pull down your shorts.

— ¿Quieres ponerte de rodillas? (Do you want to be on your knees?) — he asks, as he unbuttons his own blouse. The sharp look he gives you, bathed in desire, delirious. On his lips, you notice the smudged red of your lipstick. — Correrme en tu boca... (Cum in your mouth...)

Maybe itʼs your mind lost in urgency, because you donʼt process what was said to you. You keep your eyes still, your mouth half-open, taking in air, panting. So pathetic that all he does is laugh at your face, running his hands through his hair instead of going straight to the belt of his shorts.

— ¿Qué? ¿No lo comprendes, no? (What? you don't understand it, do you?) — the tone used with you bordered mockery. And contrary to what you would normally feel like, it gives room to a sick feeling, butterflies in your stomach, you feel even more horny, stimulated. He leans in close. — Mira. (Look)

And as if you were learning something for the first time, you imitate him when he parts his lips. You let the man's thumb drag over your lower lip, and then his middle and index fingers together slide over your tongue, until they occupy your mouth. “Así” (like that), he pushes and retreats with his hand, in a slow, sensual movement, “Metértelo en la boca.” (Put it in your mouth)

Ah, now you understand him well. Your face burns, the wet way the fingers come out of your mouth, a little strand of saliva kept resisting in the distance, itʼs wanton. You nod, kneeling on the wooden floor, eyes glued to him unbuckling his belt until you could have his erection in full view.

You part your lips once again, as you were ‘taught’. He fills your mouth, up to a point where your nose touches his crotch, and comes back, completely wet. It allows the Uruguayan to control the pace, to catch the corner of your face. You raise your gaze to his, surrendered not only by the lasciviousness of what you were doing, but also by the beautiful view you had of his face from that angle.

Enzo uses the index finger of his free hand to run down the curve of your nose, affectionately.

— Qué ojitos más bonitos... (You have such beautiful little eyes) — he praises you, with a smile. At that moment, you could swear your heart felt like it exploded. — Eres tan bella, nena. Preciosa. (You are so beautiful, baby. Precious) — he sighs, his head falls back, then to a slide side angle. He looks at you in such a mischievous way that you avoid returning the look. — Me encantaría correrme en tu boca... pero prefiero guardarlo todo para dentro de ti. (I would love to cum into your mouth... but I prefer to keep it all inside you)

You get taken back to bed, easily manhandled by him when you silently gave up control of the situation. He comes over, dangerously close, unlocked the front fitting of your bra, getting lost between your breasts as soon as he releases them from the tightness of the piece. You hold onto his hair, restless under the delicious sucking of his tongue, the wild bite of his teeth. You gasp, having to move away from the black threads of his hair while his mouth travels down your belly.

He releases you from the last piece of underwear too, the wet kisses were loud and pornographic, crackling on your skin. The tip of his big nose rubs lightly over the area where he knew your sensitive clit was. His palm run through your wetness, the chill of the his silver ring sliding across your boiling skin.

He clicks two, three slaps in a row that makes you shudder, whimpering softly. Enzo smiles, he didn't need to, but he returned to that mocking tone from before, of someone who had to calmly spell out the commands so you could understand.

He brings his hand to your lips, gave a little tap on the top, de aquí, and then went all the way down again, leaving a wet trail until he gave your pussy another tap, a aquí. And itʼs these little details that makes everything even better. It makes you feel so dumb, foolish, but itʼs so strangely good...

When he puts himself inside you, you lock your legs around his waist, wrapping your arms around him, feeling him dominate everything in you. He, however, insists on eye contact, lifting his torso, resting his forearm against the mattress, to look you in the eye. He smiles, panting like you; moaning low, hoarse. At first, slow, but soon he surrendered to the speed, to the sharp sound of your moans with each stronger thrust.

And there where so many thrilling impulses, fuck it... You want to cover your mouth, close your eyes to try to contain yourself. Itʼs the nasty noise of your bodies in shock, his deep voice, the scent of his hot skin. Youʼre so sensitive that your eyes get wet, a little tear runs down your cheek.

— Oh, no... Perdón, perdóname, cariño. (Oh, no... I'm so sorry, honey) — he stops, his thumb wipes the tear from your face.

'En—', you even started to want to call his name, but the frustration of no longer receiving the same thrilling sensations and to the same extent was such that you only knew how whine; your mind melting, finally murmuring “Dale, dale, papi.” (Give it to me, please, daddy)

Enzo smiles again. He leaves a few kisses on your lips, repeating your words between the kisses, as if he was making fun of your desperation and also the term you used to refer to him.

— ¿Más rápido, hm? Más duro? (Faster, hm? Harder?) — he turns you over on the bed, putting you on all fours. The dirty talk makes you smile, dumb with lust already, clinging to one of the pillows. The Uruguayan's body lead over yours, bringing his mouth close to your ear. — Tranquila, nena. Te daré todo lo que quieras. ( Calm down, baby. I will give you everything you want.)

#imninahchan #enzo vogrincic #enzo vogrincic fanfic #enzo vogrincic x reader #enzo vogrincic smut #la sociedad de la nieve #the society of the snow #a sociedade da neve

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neocentral · 10 months

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i need more perv virgin jisung. maybe you invite him into your room to talk or chill, something innocent, but just the fact that your scent is strong makes him unbelievably needy. he tries to push through it, he really does. he wants you so bad that hes sitting there malfunctioning in front of you. he's turning bright red, and thats when you realise the kind of person he is; a perv who would probably do anything for you.

also my first time sending an ask. is this good ? and ive heard people can have emojis. i want to be 🐈 anon. im excited to see what youll come up with!

of course!

rating: 18+. mdni.

word count: 1.4k

content: perv!virgin!jisung x reader, masturbation (m), no plot jisung's just horny n kinda subby

masterlist

part one

Jisung stands stiffly, feeling guilty and overwhelmed to be in your bedroom again. Though this time he was invited in. He wasn’t some pathetic, horny pervert who invaded your privacy and stole your used underwear. He was a guest. You wanted him there. You had leaned on his doorframe dramatically, perfume wafting over to where he sat in his gaming chair. He cursed the wind blowing through his window as he immediately felt himself growing aroused by the light scent.

Jisung had rejected your offer, not wanting to test the restraint he knew he didn’t have, but he couldn’t put up much of a fight when you whined, irresistible pout playing on your lips. “Ji, please hang out with me.”

And now, Jisung can’t focus with you sitting so close to him, your scent stronger inside your small bedroom. He occupied his mind by looking around, taking in the decorated space. Framed pictures and one too many mirrors on the walls and shelves lined with your favorite things. His eyes meet your hamper, clothing hangs off the sides and he quickly adverts his eyes, trying to ignore the tingle in his stomach as he thinks back to the filthy panties he had stolen days before hidden in his bedside drawer.

The amount of times he had used the flimsy underwear was downright embarrassing. Even the simple sight of them shoved between various items in the small drawer made him so hard that he couldn’t resist another go like the insatiable, desperate virgin he is. Unfortunately for him, release after release had stiffened the fabric and tainted your intoxicating scent with his own natural musk, but he couldn’t stop. He had even considered making his way into your bedroom once more and stealing another pair. Would you notice? Surely you wouldn’t.

You're perched so prettily on the edge of your well-made bed, looking up at him with your hypnotizing eyes when he leaves his head. Jisung thinks that if he were to jerk his hips forward, your mouth would meet where he needed you most. His hands make their way to his crotch as he tries to hide his swelling bulge. He looks away, swallowing as you begin to push your hair away from your face, keeping your eyes on him.

“Jisung,” you laugh, “why do you look so scared? Sit.” You pat the space beside you.

Jisung doesn’t want to sit. He can’t bring himself to sit, fearing that you’ll see how hard he has gotten just from your presence if he makes any sort of movement.

Despite his efforts, the slow shifts of his hands only draw your attention towards the prominent bulge poking at his pants. “Oh,” you breathe as your gaze falls downward.

“S-sorry,” Jisung stutters, attempting to fully conceal his length. He feels himself twitch underneath his hand and he can only imagine how pathetic he actually looks, skin bright and burning, panicked and embarrassed and shamefully, pathetically hard.

You look him up and down. “It’s okay,” you say, eyes trained on the way his fingers stretch over his clothed cock. “I can see why you look so uncomfortable.”

He simply exhales, fearing what would come out of his mouth if he opened it. You watch him carefully, “take it out.”

Jisung freezes, eyes snapping upward, “w-what?”

“C’mon, Ji,” you smile and Jisung feels like he might melt, “let me see.”

It doesn’t take much convincing because as always, your wish is his command. Jisung obliges, removing his large hand from his erection. Your eyebrows move slightly, your interest seemingly piqued. His thumb pushes into the waistband of his pants and he slowly pushes it down. His sweats fall to his ankles easily and he would’ve cringed at the quick exposure if he wasn’t so aroused.

You stare intently, running your eyes up and down his length, along every prominent vein and soft, upward curve. Jisung’s humiliated, hating, but loving the way you stare at his cock. It stands proudly, jumping and twitching uncontrollably as it craves to be touched. A dribble of precum leaks from him, sliding down the cherry red head. It forms a sticky string as it begins to fall and he quickly grabs it before it breaks.

You nod at him, gaze expectant as your pupils move from side to side and observe his half naked body. Jisung gently swirls his finger over his head, taking a deep and uneven breath as he joins you in looking at his twitching cock. Your scent enters his nostrils causing his body to react. He pumps slowly, trying to restrain himself by biting the inside of his cheek. He wonders if you can tell how much of a horny virgin he is by the clear desperation written all over his face as his thighs tense and the veins in his arms and hands rise to the surface.

“Does it feel good?”

Jisung shudders, nodding. He can make out his reflection in one of the mirrors to his side. He can see his figure colored with a rosy hue and his oversized hoodie that had shifted, exposing his prominent collarbones and a portion of his broad shoulders. The hem of it hangs just above his prick and the hand that tugs needily on it. Apparently, he was pumping himself a lot harder and quicker than he thought.

Jisung releases a shaky breath letting himself look at you directly. Just a little, he naively tells himself. Of course, it isn’t just a little, he can’t look away from you and your alluring features. Your sweet, soft lips and focused eyes lined with curled lashes and excess eyeliner from your brief outing earlier that day. Even the smallest sliver of skin peaking through the top of your own hoodie has him even more needy.

“I always knew it, you know,” you glance up at him, meeting his eyes that have been glued to you as he pumps himself frantically, lewd, wet noises followed with every slide of his fist. “I knew you were a little pervert. You’re always running away from me,” you pause. Your head tilts to the side as you ask, “do you want to fuck me, Jisung?”

Jisung can stop the moan that finally forces its way out of him, deep and strained. His eyes shut tightly as he tries to keep himself from cumming. He nods once, the movement small and full of embarrassment. He feels your warm breath against his pelvis as a puff leaves your nose.

He manages to stop his restless pumps but his hips take over, rutting into his fist instinctively. He can feel your heavy stare on him and he dreads the look he’ll be met with once he opens his eyes. Though, he can still see you with his eyes closed, having practiced visualizing your face everytime his hand reached for his swollen length since he met you but knowing that you were actually there, that your scent, warm aura, and enchanting voice were not a figment of his imagination and that made his mind fuzzy.

“Look at me,” you murmur. His eyes open slightly, just enough to see your blurry figure. His eyelids feel heavy and he feels like they might close at any second. “Are you gonna cum for me, Jisung?”

He let out a strangled hum, blowing air into his cheeks as he tightened his hold on himself.

“Say it,” you commanded.

Your eyes were piercing, causing a flutter in his heart as he looked deeply into them. “Fuck,” he whispered as he released the hot air in his mouth, “m’gonna cum.”

The closer he came to his climax the more overwhelmed he became. He begins inhaling and savoring your scent in his system, feeling the way it travels through his body and into his brain, lighting up some part of his brain that only seems to present itself around you. A string of curses come out with every rapid breath he takes as his fist pumps his cock with embarrassing fervor. His eyelids feel even heavier but he fights to keep them open, staring at you through the small sliver his lids allowed.

Jisung uses the last of his mind to move his hand, positioning it before the head of his length. He cums with a whimper, the pearly substance pooling in his palm and staining the low hanging hem of his hoodie. Jisung tries to steady his breathing, feeling his sticky release hot in his hand.

You grin, “better?”

1K notes · View notes

nezuscribe · 2 years

Text

𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐦𝐛!

pairings: eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: eddie munson feels terrible that a sweet girl like you has such a terrible boyfriend. it'd be a real shame if he couldn't help you out.

fic warnings (mdni 18+): reader is over 18, smut, cheating, blow jobs, eddie eating the shit out of you, fingering, teasing, heavy make-outs, mentions of weed/smoking weed, vaginal penetration, unprotected sex, creampie, eddie being a little bit possessive, corruption kink if you squint

Covered with ink, the smell of weed lingering in his hair, the Hellfire Club enthusiast could only leave so much to the mind's imagination. He liked to keep true to his name, to let people think their scandalous thoughts about him as he walked by, never asking because that would mean they were communicating with the sinner himself.

But Eddie Munson, alongside other things, was a fun person to hang around. He didn’t give a flying shit if the old ladies he passed by wrinkled their noses at his hair, or if people liked to gossip whether or not he made a deal with the devil. He was easy to talk to, comforting at times, and even caring if he truly tried hard.

With that, there were other things that only you could see. The little laugh he let out when you opened up your front door to him, shushing him as the two of you tiptoed to your room. Or the way he pressed a little kiss to your cheek before leaving out the back, waving farewell to you from your window as you suppressed the giddy smile that made its way to your face.

And it would be fine, really. Eddie could probably stay the night over, (maybe hide in your bathroom if your parents came up the stairs), but you two knew you could get away with it. And you could even stay over at his trailer if you wanted to, but both you and Eddie knew that there was one thing keeping you from spending the night tucked away in his arms.

It’s just that your boyfriend just wasn’t a big fan of Eddie Munson.

But you think that’s what spurs Eddie on even more.

Of being the sole person that everybody despises, of being able to defile you whenever he wants. Of being just too loud to raise suspicion, to have him look just around the corner and into your room to see you getting ruined by Eddie “the freak” Munson.

Sometimes Eddie likes to play with fire, to challenge the devil as he leaves dark marks just high enough on your chest and neck so that most of your clothing could just barely cover it, and most times you’d resort to having to conceal it with makeup.

Other times he’d like to write his name on the inside of your thigh, knowing that your pure and angelic boyfriend wouldn’t go looking down there anytime soon, but the thrill of your skirt being blown up by the spring winds and revealing the sinister acts that lay upon your supple skin.

But what Eddie finds funny about the whole thing is that most of the time, you don’t even try to hide it. Your hickies are almost always peeking through the layer of makeup or your clothing as if you wanted people to see them. Or how you wore the shortest skirt you could possibly find in hopes of having it scrunch up by accident, leaving people wandering eyes to zero in on the black marker lining your thighs.

Something Eddie noticed about you was that you were a lot more sinister than you let on. Sure you went to school every day, acting as if you enjoyed it. And made the teachers happy with your grades and preppy attitude, but you were honestly a little minx that Eddie had never expected.

Last week, for example, Eddie almost choked on the water he was drinking when you strolled into the cafeteria, not looking his way, caught up in something that your boyfriend was saying as you gave him a fake little laugh. But Eddie could see how you peeked over at his table, a sly grin on your lips as you went to rub your neck, his rings littering your finger as his eyes widened ever so slightly. Even worse was that you were wearing his shirt, the one he left at your house over the weekend. All while your boyfriend had his arm wrapped around your waist, holding you protectively to his chest as if you were his girl.

So when he came by later that day, knocking on the door, twice, letting you know it was him as you ran past your parents to open it, you cracked it open to see him leaning on the frame, his hands behind his back, a sneaky smile on his face as you shielded him from your parents view.

“Eddie!” You hissed, watching him gleam at your annoyance at his lack of caution.

“What? Wanted to surprise you,” He whispers with a pout, eyes racking over your form as he lets out a low whistle, “Prettiest girl in the whole damn world.” And he knows exactly what to say to make you forget why you were mad at him.

It had been days without you two seeing each other like this, being so close that you could see his doe eyes watching you carefully, hoping that he wasn’t crossing the line showing up like this. But deep down, he knew he wasn’t. Because as lonely as he was without you, you could barely function properly these days spent without having him by your side.

You watch as he pulls out his hands and shows you a little bag, “Someone was selling these while I was driving by and thought you’d want some.” And your frown can’t stay there for long as he motions for you to pick a cherry, ripe as it was just the perfect time of year for them. You bashfully grin, obliging him as you grab the ruby-colored fruit, popping it in your mouth as he gave you a little wink.

You had no idea how he could remember the little things you told him alongside all the other things happening in his life. But he’d do little thighs like this; bring you food when you called him late at night, tapping on your window to let him in, remembering the little things you liked and bringing them up late in conversation. It just made you fall even more in love with him, and it was painful that at the end of the day none of it would matter.

“Y/n? Who is it?” You heard your mom call out, worried about your quick behavior change, peeking over to see who it was but you slammed the door shut. You quickly swallowed, spitting out the seed into your hand as you waved her worry off.

“It’s Chrissy! She wants to study for our test!” You paused, “Can I go with her?” And you knew your mother wouldn’t ever say no to you hanging out with Chrissy Cunnigham.

“Of course! Tell Laura I said hello!” And that’s all you needed as you said your haste goodbyes, sprinting out the door as you were stopped by long arms, his signature smell wafting around you as you giggled against his chest.

He held out the bag of cherries again, his eyes softening as you took another, nudging him with your shoulder as you smiled down into the ground.

“Trying to butter me up, Munson? I’m not going to suck you off while you drive, it’s a safety hazard.” You tell him with a raised brow as you chew, your lips tinting red.

“You know me so well Y/n,” He shakes his head, grinning to himself as he lets out a laugh, “But no, not today, pretty. Just thought you’d like it,” You roll your eyes, reaching for another one as you walk with Eddie to his van.

You were close enough to him that his hair tickled your nose, and his skin was hot as yours was he opened the car door for you with an exaggerated movement, causing you to laugh at his chivalry as he gave you a playful wink.

“Ladies first, sweetheart.” And you let go of his hand, letting him shut the door for you as he rounded the car, climbing in the driver's seat as the van roared to life. He placed the little bag of cherries in the middle, opening it towards you as you softened up at his little gesture.

You drummed your fingers on your thigh, glancing at him from the corner of your eyes as he caught your stare, giving you a sloppy kiss on your cheek as you laughed, unable to control yourself around him.

“My rings, huh?” He asked as he turned the corner, glancing at your fingers that were still littered with his jewelry, a sort of brand he had on you that even your pathetic excuse of a boyfriend couldn’t ever achieve, “Little bit risqué don’t you think?”

“Thought you’d like it.” You answer coyly, reaching for his hand as you played with his fingers, tracing his palm as he let you, his cheeks dusted in light pink as he tore his eyes away from the road for a second to see you mindlessly toying with the skin of his arm.

“Yeah, more than liked it,” He grumbled as he remembered you fidgeting with his rings that day, tugging at the collar of his shirt as you sneakily put his little love bites on display, “Almost ran over there and fucked you on the table.”

Your cheeks heat in embarrassment, but it didn’t stop you from tugging at his fingers playfully.

“Everybody would have rioted,” You joke as you put his hand back down to his lap, not missing the sound he made at the back of his throat, the one that told you he didn’t want you to stop as you grinned, “Think my boyfriend would drop from a seizure.”

You pause, your lips pursing as silence floods between the two of you. You knew how he felt about your boyfriend, even though he never outwardly said it. Though glances shared in between periods, walking down the hall with you in his arms and the glares Eddie would shoot him didn’t leave much room for questioning.

“Want a cherry?” You ask, trying to break the tense air as you plucked one from the bag, twisting off the stem as you held it up for him.

He leaned to your side, eyes never leaving the road as he opened his mouth, letting you drop it on his tongue as he heard you let out a chuckle, rubbing his hand on the gearshift as he warmed up under your touch.

“Still think apples are better but … not bad,” He murmured, spitting out the seed into his hand, “Better not be though ‘cause that shit cost me a fucking arm and a leg. Roadside vendors just rob you blind.”

You click your tongue against your teeth, your smile dropping at his words.

“Eddie…” You say with a sigh, pulling out another cherry as you held it up to his mouth, his brows furrowing as he shrugged at your tone.

“What?” He opened his mouth for another and you obliged, “My girl likes cherries, so I bought her some cherries.” Your heart almost stopped as he spoke, but he didn’t seem to pay any attention to his words, nudging your elbow with his as he silently asked for another cherry.

My girl.

This whole arrangement was supposed to be a one-time thing. Your boyfriend refused to touch you, saying that he’d wait until the two of you were married. He’d go as far as a peck against your lips, but your hormones were raging and you doubted his little kiss was going to cut it for you.

Ever since you saw him, you knew that in some way or another Eddie Munson was going to be your savior. At first, you only talked when you wanted an escape, and he seemed to always have it ready in that little bin he carried around.

Smoking with him at first was unusual, seeing how you normally did it in the confines of the forest, hidden away from the naked eye. But you slowly warmed up to him, your mind betraying you as you began to realize that the so-called “freak” of the school was probably the sanest one out there.

Since then, lingering touches turned into experimental kisses, kisses turned into long hours spent in his trailer, and soon Eddie was fucking you on every surface he could find. Ranging from the back of his van, his bed, your bed, and the woods behind the school. And at first, you felt guilty, you did, but you couldn’t feel that way for long when Eddie made you feel the way you did.

You told him that it would never happen again, that this was a mistake and you should have never played into lust's temptation, but Eddie Munson managed to reel you back, and after a while, it seemed like you truly longed for his touch.

And the worst part is, you don’t think you’ve ever felt this way about anybody before.

Not even your boyfriend, who seemed intent on sharing a future with you. You can’t recall the last time somebody had made you laugh as much as Eddie had, or held you close to his chest as if you mattered. He liked to talk about things, never focusing on just himself when he told stories.

You knew that you had said it was only beneficiary, nothing else, no feeling attached. But glancing over at Eddie as he drove, his head somewhere else as he hummed a tune to a song he had heard on the radio, you felt yourself wanting to break your own rules.

So instead of dwelling on your warping feeling, the mind-numbing hope that maybe Eddie felt the same way you do, you opted to do something else. You looked out the window, staring at the flashing trees and the road as you saw the familiar sign that welcomed you into the trailer park, and he could see how you almost perked in your seat as he slowed down the van as he pulled up into his trailer.

“Home sweet home,” He muttered, leaning across from you as he dragged your door open, the action making you let out a playful giggle as you lightly pushed his shoulder, kissing his mess of hair as you hopped out.

Eddie raced you to the door, opening it for you as you gave him a little curtsy, earning a hearty chuckle from his end as he followed you inside, thankful that his uncle was away at the plant because he didn’t want him around for what would be following.

You had become familiar with the flower-printed walls of the trailer, the scent of his recently smoked blunt lingering in the air. The bra you had forgotten here last week was probably somewhere hidden under his bed and you kept kicking yourself for forgetting to bring it with you whenever you come over.

“So…” You clap your hands together, turning around to find Eddie already getting his boots off, shrugging off his leather coat as he placed it on the nook on the wall, “Do you want to- mph,” Before you could finish the question you felt your back being pushed roughly against the counter, quick fingers kneading at the skin of your hips as his nose nudged against yours.

“Needy much?” You ask, your sarcastic nature peeking through as Eddie groaned, rolling his eyes as his hands eagerly moved across your body. He could barely think straight after everything you had put him through, much less try to be patient.

“If I parade around in that black shirt you like so much all day, you tell me how needy you are.” He lamented, biting at your neck as your eyes widened, hands trailing up his back as they found purchase tugging at his hair.

He was right. You’d jump him when you had the chance.

“I just…” Your voice caught in the back of your throat when his lips pressed against the skin of your jaw, hot as they pressed little kisses along your skin, “I just thought it’d be a good idea.” You whimper slightly when Eddie presses you deeper into the counter, the wood digging into your back as he pushes more of his weight onto you.

“Yeah?” You could feel his breath against your cheek, heat flaming upwards as you looked up into his eyes, “That was your definition of a good idea?”

And honestly, you would have answered him back had he not leaned back down, his lips pressing feverishly against yours as you let out a surprised squeal. He was rough, your teeth clashing with one another as he tried to put his emotions into his actions, his hands coming up as they cradled the back of your neck, thumbs resting alongside your face as he tilted your head upwards.

He kissed you in that particular way you liked, the one that he knew made you go crazy. With his tongue swiping against yours, toying with you as he barely let you get a breather. He could still taste the cherries he had bought for you, making him moan into the kiss as you tugged at his roots. You were wearing that lipgloss he liked so much, too, which just seemed to make him go feral.

“Taste like fuckin heaven,” He teased as he pulled away, his soft eyes looking at your dazed ones as you shot him a lazy smile. His thumb rubbed at the corner of your mouth, trying to clean it off the smeared gloss. He stared at your swollen lips, at the way you followed his every move and his thumb slipped through the corner of your lips.

He went to pull away, his movements too slow and you too fast as your tongue swirled around it, never breaking eye contact with him as he whimpered, pressing his finger tight against the roof of your tongue, hearing your sweet little sounds following shortly after. He gently pulled your jaw down, your compliance making it easy for him to move you to his command. Seeing how the spit was pooling around his finger, he could feel his pants getting tighter at the sight.

“Shit,” He muttered, “You don’t h-have to…fuck,” Eddie could barely think as you let go of his thumb with a pop, his cock straining as your hands pawed at the zipper, your eyes wide, silently asking him if it was okay. He wanted to laugh if he could; as if he’d ever say no.

He nodded, his lips slightly shaking as he watched you fall to your knees, slow in your actions as you played with him a bit. You knew he liked it when you looked up, his pupils blown wide when your nose nudged at the bulge, a twinkling look in your eyes, knowing he was going to be wrecked in a couple of seconds.

He saw your hands moving gracefully, tugging at the zipper, undoing the buttons of his jeans, gingerly taking off his belt as his pants quickly pooled around his legs.

You could see the contour of his dick against his boxers, the little beads of precum that stained the fabric. You grinned, fingers moving as they softly traced the outline, hearing his shuddering breaths as you squeezed the tip.

“Y-you're killin’ me up here sweetheart.” He muttered, a shaky sigh escaping his lips as he tried to smile.

“Be patient Eddie,” You giggled, pressing a little kiss to the precum forming, the salty taste familiar as you went to tug his briefs down. You watched as his dick sprang free, slapping you on the cheek as you let out a little moan, the size of him never fails to surprise you, “You’re so big - fuck Eddie.” He whines at your words, at the way your nails drag up and down the long vein that wrapped around his cock.

Eddie can’t wait anymore with your teasing, waiting days to do this as he grasps the back of your head, jutting his hips forward so that his dick pushes past your lips, a little groan escaping your throat as he keeps pushing himself deeper into your open mouth.

“Jesus fucking Christ - shit - just,” He shut his eyes for a second, trying to compose himself, “Just like that. You’re so… so good at this - shit,” He began moving after letting you get adjusted, your nose hitting his pelvis as it brushed against his little tufts of hair. You let him guide your head, let him set the pace as he let out the sweet little moans you cherished so much, “What would your boyfriend say if he knew - fuck - that his girlfriend was such a slut for my cock?” And even though you don’t answer, he knew how his words affected you.

When this whole thing started, he tried to be as gentle and caring as possible. You told him all about how your boyfriend would neglect you, leaving you to fend for yourself, and that you were shy and genuinely had no idea what you were doing.

So he’d coax you through it, tell you had to suck him off as you obediently listened to his every instruction. But now, after months of bending you to his will, Eddie couldn’t control himself when he was around you anymore.

“No one’s as good as you,” He stopped momentarily, shuddering as your tongue ran up and down his length, “Fuck, you take me so well…” And you did because Eddie taught you how. You hoped that after months of letting him fuck your throat you had picked up something, tricks that you knew made him go crazy.

And you could feel him shaking, his grips on your head weakening as his fingers tugged at your roots. He was getting close, but before you could feel him release down your throat he pulled away, your brows furrowing in confusion as you looked up at him.

“Thanks, sweetheart, but,” He murmured, his thumb rubbing at your lips, smiling as he went to collect a mixture of his pre and your spit, bringing it up to his mouth as he watched you clench your thighs at the sight, “Wanna finish with you tonight.”

Your chest was heaving, but you smiled, shakily standing up, feeling the sting of the carpet on your knees as you winced a little. Eddie cooed at your reaction, rubbing at your neck as he pressed a kiss to your lips, guiding you towards the direction of his bedroom as you followed him silently.

The familiar walls and smell of his room made you smile, a comfort you had been reaching out for in the last couple of weeks seeing that Eddie was busier with his campaign. Before you could look around too much he followed in, hands on your waist as he closed the door behind the two of you.

He didn’t want to waste any time as he pushed you down onto the mattress, his hands cradling your head so that it wouldn’t thump too harshly against the springs like it did last time and he smiled against your chin, almost forgetting where he was as you nudged his hips. He motioned for you to crawl on his lap, and you obliged, settling yourself so that you rubbed against his hardon, earning a little gasp whenever you tried to adjust yourself on his thighs.

“You are so gonna be the death of me.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing, Munson.” He laughs, the sound vibrating against your chest as he plays with the little necklace you had worn, staring up at you as you carded your finger through his chocolate curls. He stares deeply, not wanting to ever forget that he has Hawkins High's golden girl straddling his lap, looking at him like he exists. It drives him insane and riddles his mind every night about how you could possibly come back to him whenever you do.

“So pretty…” He murmured, sucking at your neck as you shuffled around in his iron grip, your eyes squeezed shut as he moved to your collarbone, “You’re always so pretty.” He hopes you know he’s not just saying it to make you like him more because the way you look right now could make him lift the world if he really wanted to.

Your nose wrinkles and his heart drops, worried that he did something wrong, that his room smells too much for you, but your brows furrow in that cute way, your tongue poking out as you try to think of what was different.

“Is that a new shampoo?” You tug his head closer to your nose, your attitude different from the one you had seconds ago as he chuckles, his chest vibrating against yours as he nods in your hands as he lets out a sigh of relief.

“Mhm,” He kissed your collarbone as you were busy sniffing his hair, “It’s that one I kept telling you about, remember?”

You nod, hoping that he knows you remember almost everything about him. How you want to remember because you couldn’t ever forget the little snippets of his life he tells you about. You know how he likes his eggs, where he places each ring (because he has a system - he’s not an animal), and how every nook and cranny of his room is decorated with memorabilia he collected over the years.

“Of course I do, that green one, right?” You mutter, and he nods as you kiss the crown of his head, “It smells really good.” He beamed, rubbing at your back as his hands slipped up your shirt.

You felt him tug at the hem of your shirt, a little sign you had picked up on over the months as you helped him as you lifted your arms, your shirt quickly coming off as he never left your tits and the lacey bra you were wearing.

He swallowed dryly, the sound audible as you raised a brow at his reaction, your lips tugging up into a little grin as his hands moved up your back to find the clasps. When he finally got it after seconds of playing with it he was quick as he tugged the straps down your arm, tossing the bra to the side, surely another one lost to the many you had left in his room.

“You’re acting like you’re in middle school Eddie,” You tell him with a chuckle, poking his sides as he glances at you, “It’s nothing you haven’t seen before.” And he shakes his head, his fingers playing with your nipples as your eyes flutter shut at the sensation. His rings drag against your skin, the temperature difference causing goosebumps to follow in their wake as your thighs clench at the feeling.

“Shut up,” He murmurs, flushing pink as he takes one of your nipples into his mouth. He rubs at the other one, not leaving it unattended as you, and you heat up in embarrassment as he flashes you a smirk, cupping them in his palms as he gives both of them a gentle kiss, “Let me have my moment.”

You groan, covering your face in your hands as he laughs against your soft skin, taking this opportunity to trail his fingers downwards, pulling at your shorts as he slowly rubs against your clothed mound.

“E-Eddie!” You squeal, squirming as he simply smiles, his thumb moving around to find your clit, your mouth falling slack as he continues to rub against it, the friction of the fabric causing you to squirm around in his hold, “P-please, oh…” You trail off when he quickened his pace.

“Please what?” His tone was taunting, the kind you hated because now you knew what he wanted, “‘M not going to give you anything if you don’t ask for it. Where're your manners, sweetheart?” You let out a little cry, your head falling into the crook of his neck as his other hands gingerly stroked your back in a comforting way.

“Eddie,” You whimpered against the column of his skin, searching for the spot that made him go weak, his breathing shuddering as you dragged your lips against it, “Please…god fuck, please touch me.” Eddie snorts, his hands stopping their movements as he raises his brow in questioning.

“Where?” His thumb presses up harshly against your swollen clit, dragging it down south as you whine again, “Here?” And you dumbly nod, not knowing if you had it in yourself to tell him what you want.

He didn’t have to be told twice as he hooked his fingers along the waistband of your panties, tugging them down as he flung them off into the abyss of his room. He could see how your chest was heaving with labored breaths, and he grinned inwardly knowing that nobody else would be able to see you like this.

He flattened you down on the bed, pushing down on your stomach as you followed his movements, watching as he stretched, flashing you a charming grin.

He pressed a little kiss to the inner corner of your thighs, each one closer to your awaiting cunt, his nose rubbing alongside your clit, giving it a little sniff as you groaned, your hands pawing at the bedsheets as he smiled against you.

“You’re such a perv, Eddie.” You mutter, turning your head to the side so that he couldn’t see your expression.

“Yeah, I know,” He chuckled, giving little kitten licks as you shuddered again, “But you like it, don’t you? Like knowing that I’m the only one that can touch you like this?” And you can’t answer him because you both know he’s right.

You can’t say anything as his tongues swirl against your folds, lapping up your essence as you moan, your cries growing louder and louder as he increases his movements. Everything he did was driving you towards the edge, especially when he looked up from between your thighs, smiling knowingly against your skin as he sucked loudly at your clit

“So wet - fuck,” He groans, his tongue moving past your entrance as he watches your eyes roll back, “Shit…and you taste so fucking good,” And the obscene sounds mixed with the way he swirls his tongue around your hole is enough to make you go crazy.

You knew he hadn’t been going at it for long but he was so skilled in knowing how to unravel you that you could already feel your thighs shaking, his grips on them tightening as he tried to hold you down. You carded your fingers through his hair, trying to move his head up and down the expanse of your cunt.

“Just like that,” He’d say, his tongue moving up to your clit as he pumped a finger in and out, his eyes shutting momentarily as he felt you clamp down on him, “S-sweetheart you’re so fucking tight. Even after all this time,” You let out unintelligible babble as he drew circles on the bundle of nerves, adding another finger as you cried out for him.

“Eddie! Fuck, s-shit,” Your words slurred together as he quicked his pace, feeling how you squeezed against his digits, “Don’t stop - umph!” You bit down at the back of your hand to muffle the scream you would have let out.

“God, Eddie, please, oh, just,” You cry out, “Faster, please!” And he obliges your change in nature from when he first met you only going south.

“Come on sweetheart, almost there,” He coaxed you through it, his fingers and tongue never letting up, “You’re doing fucking amazing, come on, cum, there you go…” You twitched around as your toes curled, white flashing before your eyes as you let out a scream, your climax washing over you as Eddie made sure not to waste a drop of your release, quick to lap it all as he sucked his fingers dry.

He grinned as he took in your wasted state; your legs spread wide open for him, pussy twitching from your orgasm, wet and shiny in the dim light of his room. He wanted to punch himself for forgetting to stock up on film to take a picture of this very moment.

“You look ruined.” He said teasingly, moving down as he balanced himself on his arms, pressed a sloppy kiss to your lips as you whined at the taste of yourself on him. He trailed down, sucking at your neck, just above your collarbone. He made sure to leave another mark for tonight, reveling in the way you’d groan at him, smacking him in the arm for not being conspicuous enough, but not even bothering to cover it up when the time came.

“Because of you,” You muttered weakly, stretching your legs wider so that he could situate himself more comfortably. His fingers kneaded at the meat of your thighs, running down your calves, and he winked as he caught your stare.

His hands grasped at your ankles, moving them up and to his shoulders as you winced a little bit at the uncomfortable stretch. He pressed a kiss to them, a small thank you for being so acquiescent.

Before he could continue you saw how he paused, his fingers still rubbing at your calves as he looked at the drawer next to his desk. You followed his gaze, your mind working fast as you tried to contain the little grin that graced your face when you tapped his shoulder, bringing his attention back to you.

“Don’t have to,” You whisper, your voice thick as his brows furrowed in confusion before you continued, “I’m on the pill.”

And he chokes a little bit, his eyes widening as you giggle at his reaction. The idea of doing it raw with you had been plaguing his mind ever since he first felt you wrap around him, wondering just how warm you were, and he could barely think straight when he thought about spilling in you, his cum overflowing from your pretty pussy as he marked you in the most intimate way possible. He was so lost in the little trance you had placed upon him that he could barely register your gentle touch as you rubbed at his cheeks.

“Y’hear me, Eds?” You asked, worried as he seemed like he went to his little world as his grip on you tightened just a bit. And he nodded, looking back to you as he leaned back down, his hands moving away from your legs as your ankles slid down, catching you in an unexpected kiss. It was feverish and crazy how he moved against you, wet and sloppy as he tried to make it fast but he couldn’t with the way you held his jaw in your hands, looking up at him softly as your eyes searched his.

“Y-yeah, heard you just fine, sweetheart.” He said through a grumble as he cleared his throat, pressing another peck to your forehead as he moved back down, readjusting himself to where he originally was as he rubbed at his ears glowing pink.

“Make me go crazy, seeing you like this,” Eddie murmurs as he aligns his tip with your entrance, groaning at the feeling as you stroke his arms, your finger trailing upwards as they push the hair out of his face, “You’re so fucking hot, y’know that, right?”

“Eddie please just,” You press your lips together as he quirks a brow, “God - please - just fuck me already!” He laughs at your outburst, evading the little punch you threw at his chest as he pressed a kiss up against your knuckles.

“Whatever you want, sweetheart.”

He pushes his cock in, bottoming out in you as you scream at the feeling of him. It was much more different than you expected, feeling all of him in you as your lips trembled at the feeling of his veins dragging up your walls.

“Eddie! Fuck, ugh, oh fuck you’re s-so big!”

He whines at the way you grip his wrists, how tears spring up to your eyes as you try to get used to his size.

He can feel your nails drag along his back, the pain not enough to hurt him as he tries to control himself, knowing that you had to adjust for a couple of seconds before he continued. It was evil the way you had him wrapped around your little finger, acting like he knew everything when he was a total mess whenever he was around you.

Your eyes squeeze shut at the sting, his dick still managing to stretch you out after months of taking him.

“S-stop,” He moaned out as you dragged your hands across his chest, your psalm freezing as he shivered, “Stop clamping down on me s’much sweetheart, gotta…” He breathed deeply through his nose, still trying not to move, “Gotta loosen up, j-just a little bit, fuck, p-please…” And you try, really you do, but he’s just so big that you don’t have the opportunity to do so.

So Eddie gives up, his hips betraying his mind as he pulls back out, slamming back down into you as your screams and moans wrap around him, holding his body like a vice as you grip at his arms, begging him quietly through your choked words to just slow down a little bit.

You can feel every little inch of him in you, his veins dragging up and down your walls as his tip teases that spongy part inside of you, his hands trailing down to where your bodies connected as he rubbed frantically at your clit, your eyes squeezing shut in ecstasy.

“Shit - fuck, Y/n you feel so fucking amazing like this, fuck, fuck, fuck…” He groaned, his hands searching for yours, sliding them up as he curled his fingers with your, the bead of sweat trickling down his face as he kissed the tip of your nose in the loving way he always did.

It wasn’t that you weren't used to this, how he fucked you up and down on his cock.

Eddie Munson just always seemed to know how to fuck you stupid.

Words were incoherent from your mouth as you babble on about how amazing he was, his dick repeatedly hitting your g-spot as you gripped whatever you possibly could, your hands searching for something to hold because you felt like you’d be slipped away sooner than later.

He hoists your leg up to his shoulder, leaning down as he nuzzles into your neck, letting out a choked moan as he kisses your breasts, sucking at them and leaving little bites all over them as he felt himself going insane with the way you clenched tightly around him.

The smell of sweat and sex was defiling you all over again, Eddie's cologne mixing with the perfume you had spritzed on earlier that day, and it became addictive, the way you searched for it, something that only the two of you could create.

“Eddie, please, mphf!” You moaned as he captured the sound in a searching kiss, his tongue running along your lips wet with spit and tears, “Please, p-please cum in me, I wanna feel you so fucking b-bad!” You cried as his finger swirled faster against your clit. The feeling that mixed with the way he rutted his hips against you, his balls slapping against the flesh of your ass as it became drowned out by the sound of both your sobs.

Both you and he could feel each other releases coming, with the way your walls began to clamp down even tighter and how he faltered, his legs growing weak from the weight of it all crashing down on him, his hold on your waist growing tighter than ever before as his hips slammed back down into your pelvis with less force than before.

You trailed your fingers down to where he was circling your clit, all of it working together as you let out a little squeal as you gushed around him, your release coating his skin as he sputtered against you.

“Shit! Fuck, oh god, Y/n, fuck, I’m c-coming…” He couldn’t finish his sentence as you felt his cum coating your walls, hot against your already burning folds as he slumped down, groaning into your chest as your hands stayed limped on his back.

His dick was still pulsating inside of you, a little bulge from everything and he slowly pulled out, his cock growing soft as he watched his cum spill out of you, the sight nearly enough to make him hard again.

“Holy fucking shit,” He muttered softly, his fingers going to your aching cunt as he tried to shove it back in there, not missing the way you moaned as he accidentally rubbed against your swollen clit, “Y’look so fucking hot right now.”

And even in your dazed state, you managed to laugh, the sound warming up his chest as he engulfed one of your hands in his, bringing it up to his lips as he left tender kisses on your fingertips, trailing down to your knuckles as you melted at the gesture.

“Shit, shit,” He muttered quickly as he notices all the marks littering your chest, his rings scratching alongside your waist from how tightly he was gripping you and he grimaced, “Sorry for hurtin’ you, didn’t mean to be so rough,” You would have argued if you weren't so tired. And regardless, you watched through blurry vision as he quickly jumped off the bed, tugging on some boxers as he sprinted out of the room only appearing minutes later with a wet towel.

“Here,” He motioned for you to spread your legs a little bit so he could clean the mess between them, “There you go, just like that sweetheart,” He tried to be gentle, cooing at you as you winced as it dragged against the tender skin of your cunt, delicate kisses lining your entrance as he looked at you through his long lashes.

“Y’did so fuckin’ amazing.”

With a little giggle and a knowing smirk, you shrug, pulling him by the back of his neck as you kiss the corner of his lips.

“I know Munson,” You push his hair behind his ear as he smiles into your lips, “You never fail to mention.”

He grins, flopping down beside you as he tosses your shirt back towards you, averting his gaze as he tugged it on, his innocence in moments like this making you fall for him even more than you already thought was possible.

Eddie glanced at the clock on the wall, groaning at the time and you followed his gaze, the sinking feeling filling your stomach as you realized that it was beginning to get late and you’d have to go home soon.

“Wish you’d just stay,” He whispered truthfully, turning his body so that he could press against your neck.

“I know,” You kissed the side of his head as you nudged his jaw with your nose, wanting him to look at you as you smiled a little bit, “Soon.”

He perked up a bit, eyes widening as he tried to decipher what you could mean.

“Soon?”

“Soon,” You say with a giggle, laughing against his lips as he brings his hand up to cradle your face, smiling gleefully into the kiss as he gently bit your lip, pulling it forwards as your hands ran up and down the expanse of his naked torso.

“Really?”

“Really really,” You say and he scoffs, almost not believing you as he raises his brows.

“You honestly mean it?” He sounded so optimistic, so tantalizingly precious that you couldn’t help but break into a wide grin, nodding against his face as he gripped your hips gently, kissing alongside your jaw as he could practically feel his heart beating sporadically in the limited space of his ribcage.

“Cross my heart.” You say, doing the motion as his forehead relaxed, hugging and pulling you closer to his chest as his fingers trailed across the curves, the little dips your body allowed only him to see.

The beating of his heart was loud, yet peaceful enough to lull you into a state of calm, your breathing slowing down as his hands mapped every crevice of your torso, pinching playfully at your thighs as you giggled in his grasp.

“Think I’m starting to like cherries more,” He murmured against your skin, his lips hot on your shoulder as you smiled up at the ceiling, eyes twinkling as Eddie traced little shapes onto your stomach.

“Yeah?” He hummed a bit as you couldn’t help but laugh at it all, “Why’s that Munson?”

“Apples just don't...” He paused trying to think of how to phrase it correctly, “They don’t cut it anymore, if you get what I’m saying.”

“I’m sorry but,” You chuckle as he smiles against you, “I don’t think I do, Eds.” It was these little conversations that you cherished more than anything, where both of you were carefree and the world around you didn't matter because the way he held you tightly against him made you feel so many different things at once you couldn’t process the emotion somethings.

“Yeah, well,” He gave an exaggerated sigh, “Cherries have the annoying seeds and they charge fifty times more for them but,” He licks your neck and you heat up, “They remind me of you. Apples now remind me of Henderson and his lunches packed with that god-awful smelling baloney.” You give him a hearty laugh, turning around as you kiss him, not able to stop because he always managed to toy with your heart in this particular way that made you wonder why you hadn’t met him sooner.

The night faded out with him bringing you back home, dropping you off with a tender kiss and a farewell wave, acting like your very own knight as he left you beaming by your front door, your feet digging into the concrete as you reached up on your tiptoes to wave goodbye to him. And you Realized at that very moment that Eddie Munson had total reign over you now, and nobody could match up to him again.

So when you meant soon, you really did mean it.

That following day you strolled into the cafeteria, straying away from the boy attached by your side as you ignored his confusing calls, wondering why in the world you were walking towards Eddie Munson.

Your smile was bright and gleaming as he watched through a calculating gaze, leaving everybody in that lunchroom stunned and speechless as you leaned up and dragged him down by the neck to press a sloppy kiss to his lips, his smile apparent even as you pulled away, his hands never leaving your hips as he raised his brows.

“New gloss?” He asked, feeling the eyes of everybody in that room as he motioned his finger to his lips, and you shot him an apologetic look as you wiped it off with your thumb.

“Mhm, it's cherry!” You tell him with a little giggle, “Thought you’d like it!”

Eddie Munson was a man long gone after that, groaning as he swooped you back into his arms, not caring that your boyfriend was shouting loudly behind you, demanding to know what in the actual fuck was happening.

Because now, Eddie could finally kiss that obnoxious flavored gloss off your lips and knowingly stare at the world with a cocky smirk because you were always going to be his.

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hecateslore · 5 days

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☆💋

Biker!Simon and Baddie!reader...some nsfw, as always mdni

"I'm going to work," You adjusted your top, "So clean up around here." You tied your apron around you waits. Simon was laying down on your bed, hid head in the pillows. He gives you a thumbs up falling back asleep. "You're still getting me tonight?" You asked, already knowing the answer, Simon hummed and you shut your fan's light off.

At work, you finish cleaning up your station, wiping down the counter, and the barstools. Feet hurting from standing almost all night. "I'm leaving babe, have a goodnight, or morning." You're coworker Tasha chuckled, "Later." You said, putting the chairs up. When you finished, you pulled your phone out of your apron, checking the time.

"Hello," Simon answered the phone, his voice groggy with sleep. "Did you forget?" You could hear Simon groaning and grumbling incoherently, "I just woke up," He mumbled. "So are you getting me or not?" You snap, cranky and ready to get out of your work clothes. "I'm on my way." He says hanging up.

You sat outside on the curb waiting for Simon to come and get you. playing candy crush on your phone and looking through door-dash to see what was open. You could hear the engine roaring from down the street. Simon pulls up, his long legs at each side of the bike, "Glad you could join us." You mumbled, straddling the bike, you wrap your arms around Simon waist. The ride was short but extremely fast, surprisingly quiet for the wind blowing in your face and ears.

Once you two get to your apartment, Simon parks it in the garage, you hop off and wait for him to get his bike situated, standing with your arms crossed, "Can you hurry?" You whined, your feet still throbbing. Simon finished and you both walked up the stairs, your knees felt heavy, "My feet hurt." You mumbled while walking behind Simon. By the time you get to your front door, you're not even hungry anymore.

"I'm so sleepy," You said incoherently, laying in your bed waiting for Simon to lay next to you. "I can see that," He flops on your bed, running his hands on your exposed midriff. "That tickles," You giggled, "It's supposed to," Simon looks at you, dipping his head to kiss below your belly button. "You leaving?" you asked, running your hands through his over grown buzzcut. "Not tonight, or this morning." He mumbled, pulling down your pajama shorts, "Good." You lift your hips letting him pull your shorts lower and lower.

You spread your legs letting Simon's large hand rub your clothed cunt, "You've been mean to me lately." He said lowly, "How have I been mean!?" You asked, trying to keep your voice steady. “You’re snappy and everything bothers you.” Simon's lips curled into a smirk, and he leaned in closer. "And you were Ignoring me when I called you, Avoiding my texts..." He teased, “Cause you only call when you need something.” You watched him trace the outline of the wet spot that was slowly growing and growing.

Simon pushed your legs farther apart, sticking his long tongue out and licking up your panties,"You know what I need now?" he asked, his voice low and seductive. You shook your head no, Simon clicked his tongue, he grabbed the band of your thong and slowly pulled it down your legs, revealing your wet slit. He licked a stripe, and hummed at your sweet arousal.You moaned softly, your hands gripping the sheets beneath you.

He gently spread your lips apart then swirled his tongue around your clit. Your hips bucked gently as he slid two fingers inside you, pumping them in and out. You let out small whines of pleasure, sighing his names every time he hit that sweet spot. You reached down, grabbing his hair and pulling him closer to your pussy, Simon groaning and slurpingheavily, his tongue never leaving your sensitive nub.

Your moans were getting louder and louder, But then were rudely interrupted by Simon's ringtone blaring by the side of your head. You let out a frustrated groan, Grabbing his phone a tossing it at him harshly, already knowing what was going to happen in the next few minutes. "Yeah?" Simon said clearing his throat. You slid your panties back on and walked to your bathroom, watching Simon go under your bed to pull the duffle bag out.

"You're leaving?" You leaned on the bathroom's door post, "I have to drop some stuff off." Simon said, pulling out the Armalite, inspecting it. "And I'm the mean one." You scoffed, "Don't start," Simon said, placing the gun back in the duffle bag. "You only prove my point more and more," You shake your head in shame. Simon sighs annoyed, "I'm staying at johnny's tonight." He lifts the bags and swings it over his shoulder.

"Leave my key on the counter." You ordered, Simon chucks the key at you and it falls at your feet. "Dick." You yelled watching him leave your apartment.

You scrubbed the bars counter, scratching the granite-if that was even possible. You head was hung all work day, Not as cheery as you usually were, which was what happened every time Simon would leave then eventually turn up again and then leave one more time.

Your shift was over and you waited for the Uber to pull up, You sat with your head in your hand, debating on whether or not to text Simon to tell him to come over, and that you didn't mean anything by what you said.

You sat in the backseat listening to the audio book your driver was listening to, something about two forbidden lovers who ran away together. It made your eyes roll even harder than they ever did. Simon still on your mind, hoping and praying he'd show up, You expected him to show up to your job like he usually did, but when he didn't it made your frown deepen even more.

You sat on the couch, the tv off, staring at your phone waiting for a message. You snatched your phone off the table, your brain still playing ping pong with the idea of calling him.

So when his line was ringing your heart pounded in your chest. "What?" Simon answered the phone, his attitude on ten. "Where are you?" You said softly, "I'm at johnny's like I told you." He said as if you were a headache. You bit at your acrylics, "Are you coming home?" You muttered, Simon sighed, "Dunno know." He replied, "Can you?" you responded wearily. "I'll see." He sighed again, hanging up.

You waited all night, there was no text message no call, nothing. You cried all night (drama!!! like girl he's gonna come back jesus christ.), You woke up with puffy eyes and dried tears in the corners. You throat was dry, you looked a mess. You got ready for work, putting loads of makeup on and fixing your hair, listening to sad love songs. You ate a quick snack (a quick quick snack !) and went on with your day.

Not one text message or call, not even a bouquet of flowers like he normally does.

#biker!simon #baddie!reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #cod mw2 #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost cod #simon ghost x you #simon ghost smut #ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghost x y/n #simon riley x you #ghost mw2 #ghost call of duty #ghost riley

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catcze · 7 months

Text

Wriothesley who catches sight of you at Marcotte Station, speaking to the flowers and laughing with the rainbow roses. The jingle of your glee is easy for him to make out— it's a sound he had dedicated himself to try and pull from you whenever he could, of course.

He finds you amidst the shrubbery, crouched and with numerous colored blooms around you. You listen and you converse with the plants in a way he has seen only you do, fingers and hands dancing as you talk. The soft green glow of dendro rains from the tips of your fingers, and the green vision at your side glows as you imbue these blooms with the power you hold.

He lets you bask with your friends the flowers for a while longer, leaning against the trunk of a tree as he looks on with a fond smile. You practically glow out here. The wind is in your hair and the sunlight casts lights into your eyes. If he didn't know any better, he would think that you're a flower here as well, brought to life by the earth and blooming with happiness and joy.

The wind blows through the flowers then, making them shake in the breeze as if they're whispering a secret to you and giggling all the while. You listen for just a second, then look over to the side, where your gaze meets his. The flowers continue to giggle amongst themselves when they see the flush on his cheeks and the way he shyly waves to you.

It's almost embarrassing how he's so smitten with you that even flowers can see it.

But you grin at his appearance, standing up and brushing the grass from your clothes as you run the distance to him. This time, he thinks, awestruck of how you shine in the sunlight. In his pockets, his hand plays with the chain of the pretty but expensive necklace he had bought for you. His heart raced in nerves, in fear. In excitement. This time I'll finally confess how I really feel.

#「 🐈‍⬛ 」 catcze.desserts #Wriothesley x reader #genshin impact x reader #Wriothesley #Genshin Impact #cw gn reader #might be ooc but IDC !! love me a man who gets gooey and embarrassing and gross when he's pining & in love ♡

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octoberclidan · 2 months

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Needing You

Request: With absolutely no pressure, could I request some comfort for our sweet (and vulnerable) Dean? Something very soft and gentle? 💚

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Masterlist

Story:

Dean didn't wait for either Sam or [Y/N]. As soon as he'd turned off the engine, he was out of the car and marching towards their motel room. He didn't take his bag, he didn't look at either of them, he didn't say anything, he just left. Everything that could've gone wrong on the hunt, had gone wrong. Nothing about their day had gone well. It had been a cold, dark, rainy day since the moment they'd woken up. Dean had been captured by a witch, his absolute least favourite thing to hunt, and it had taken Sam and [Y/N] all day to find him. While he'd been magically held against a wall in the witch's home, he watched two of her victims die. He couldn't physically do anything, and there was nothing he could say to stop her. He was to be her third victim, but right before she cut his neck, Sam had burst into the room and the witch disappeared. Dean had fallen to the ground, and had pushed both Sam and [Y/N] away when they tried to help him up.

[Y/N]'s view of Dean marching to their motel room was obscured by the raindrops rolling down the car's window. She hadn't tried to talk to him the entire ride back; she knew better after Dean had snapped at Sam just for clearing his throat. She sighed, and was about to open her door when Sam turned around in his seat to look at her. "He'll be okay. He'll punch something, get drunk, and sleep it off. We'll be back on the hunt in the morning". He cringed slightly when he heard the door to their room slam. "I think we should probably see about getting a second room and giving him some space tonight".

"Do you think he'll be okay on his own? I've seen him beating himself up after hunts before, but I've never seen him like this", she said. [Y/N] had a deep level of concern and care for Dean. She loved both Winchesters, she'd do anything for either of them, and she hated seeing them upset. Sam sighed and shrugged his shoulders.

"He won't let himself lose control, we still have to find the witch. He'll be good by the morning". He finally opened his door, the wind blowing some rain into the car. "Wait here until I get us a room, I'll be back in a few minutes". [Y/N] watched as he pulled his jacket up over his head and quickly got out of the car, closing his door behind him and jogging over to the motel's reception. She felt a bit uneasy leaving Dean alone when he was probably in there breaking something and hating himself, but she knew that no one knew him and what he needed better than Sam.

The door to the reception opened and it caught her eyes, she saw Sam jogging back to the car. She grabbed her bag from beside her as Sam opened up the trunk to grab his own, and they quickly ran through the parking lot to get to their new room, which happened to be the one right next to Dean's. Sam opened the door and ushered [Y/N] inside, and she shivered as droplets of rain water fell from her hair. "You wanna take the first shower?" Sam asked as he put his bag down on the desk beside the window, and [Y/N] nodded.

"Yeah, I'll make it quick", she said and made her way into the bathroom, taking her bag with her. The water wasn't exactly hot, but it did warm her up a little bit. She couldn't keep her thoughts from wondering to Dean, thinking about what must be going through his head and what he was up to in the other room. She began to grow even more worried as she turned off the shower and started to pull on the old comfortable clothes she kept for sleeping in; one of Dean's old band t-shirts, and some very well worn sweatpants. What if he decided to go to a bar? Dean had no issues with driving after drinking on an ordinary day, but what if he tried to drive home after drinking too much in the dark and rain?

Once she was dressed, she opened the bathroom door. Sam was sitting on one of the beds and looked up at her as she walked out. "Shower's all yours, just a warning though, the water's not hot", she said as she made her way over to the other bed.

"Noted", Sam sighed as he pushed himself off the bed to go get his clothes and toiletries. "Are you okay?" He asked before he went in.

"Yeah, just worried I guess", she shrugged. He nodded in understanding as he closed the bathroom door behind him. She heard the shower turn on, and she decided to pull out her journal to make notes on the hunt. She'd only just sat down on a bed and opened her journal when she heard a crash behind her head, and she spun around on the bed to look at the wall behind her. A few seconds later, and there was a bang on the wall, shaking it along with her bed frame. Dean. Without stopping to think, she tossed her journal down beside her and shot out of bed. She scribbled down a quick note for Sam on a little post-it that was on the desk, and headed straight out of the room.

Although the corridor outside the room had a cover over it, the floor was still wet from the rain being blown onto it from the wind. The wind and rain hit her immediately and she ran to the next door, banging on it and hoping Dean wouldn't take too long to let her in, hoping he hadn't injured himself, hoping he could let her in. When ten seconds went by without any answer, she banged on the door again. "Damnit Dean, let me in! I'm getting soaked out here!" She wrapped her arms around herself and rubbed her bare arms as she stood there being attacked by the weather, her clothes having no waterproof capabilities.

The door opened slightly and she looked up to find a red-eyed Dean. He looked her up and down before sighing and opening the door wide enough to let her in. She slipped inside and kept her arms around herself as she waited for him to close the door and turn to face her. "What are you doing in here?" He mumbled as he kept his head down and walked past her to his bed. He sat down on the edge of it, and she noticed that his knuckles were bloody as he held his hands on his lap.

"Will you let me look at those?" She asked, walking over to him. He pulled his hands back as she reached down for them, but she insisted. He didn't put up a fight as she held his hands in hers and lifted them up to look at them. "I'm going to clean them and wrap them".

"They're fine".

"Dean", she sighed. "They're not fine, and you're not fine either. You can talk about it with me if you want to, or you can sit there in silence, but either way, I'm taking care of these hands". She gently squeezed them before placing them back in his lap. She looked around the room before remembering that Dean hadn't taken his bag in from the car. "Just... wait here, don't move, I'll be back in less than a minute". He didn't say anything and he didn't look up at her as she quickly left the room.

She ran through the rain back to the other room and let herself in to find Sam sitting on his bed reading through a book. "How is he?" He asked, leaning forward with his eyebrows furrowed in concern.

"He's Dean", she sighed, looking through her bag for her first aid kit.

"You gonna bring a coat this time?" He asked as she went to open the door again. She paused and nodded.

"Good idea", she chuckled as she grabbed her jacket, holding it over her head. "I'm not sure when I'll be back... if I can get him to open up maybe I'll just stay with him, are you good here?"

"Good luck, yeah I'm fine, just let me know if you need anything", he smiled at her. He knew Dean was in safe hands with [Y/N]. Although he knew Dean better than anyone, he also knew that if anyone could get him to open up and hate himself a little less, it would be her.

Dean was waiting for [Y/N] this time with the door open, not wanting her to stand out in the rain any longer than needed. She smiled at him in thanks as he held the door open for her, and he caught himself smiling back. He could feel his anger start to dissipate, and he cursed her in his mind for having that effect on him. He felt like he deserved to feel bad, he felt like he didn't deserve to be smiling. "Okay, sit on the bed so I can clean those hands up", she said as she grabbed a chair.

"I can do it myself".

"No you can't, I've seen you doing it yourself and you're shit at it, now sit", she placed the first aid kit down on the bed and put her hands on her hips, waiting for him to shake his head and follow her instructions like he always ended up doing. He sat down and she pulled the chair closer so she could sit opposite him, their knees touching. She grabbed one of his hands and pulled out an antiseptic wipe to start to clean it. He hissed at the initial sting, but it soon went away. She held his hand in one hand, stroking her thumb up and down soothingly, while she wiped his knuckles with her other. She lifted his hand closer to her face to inspect it, and then threw the wipe away and took out some gauze.

"It's not bad enough to need that stuff", Dean protested, but one glare from her and he stopped, letting her gently wrap his hand. She placed it on his lap as he took his other hand, which wasn't as bad, but he knew she'd insist on wrapping it too anyway. He looked into her face as she worked on his second hand, noticing how she stuck her tongue out slightly between her teeth in concentration. He'd never known anyone so beautiful, inside and out, and he didn't know how he was lucky enough to have her as a constant in his life.

"There, all done", she smiled as she let go of his hand and packed away her supplies. When she looked back at Dean, he was looking down at his hands, and a tear fell from his eye to darken a little spot on his bandage. "Hey, what's going on inside that head of yours?" She asked, gently covering his hand with hers. He shook his head and sniffed, looking away from her. "Come on, talk to me, I'm right here", she lifted her hand to touch his cheek, slowly turning his face back to her.

"I was useless today", he said.

"Dean-", she sighed but he cut her off and took his hand back from her, standing up abruptly and forcing her back a little so he could walk away. She stared at him as he started to pace up and down the room. "Dean-", she tried again, but he stopped and glared at her through teary eyes.

"Don't 'Dean' me, okay? I fucked up. I let my guard down, got caught by a fucking witch and watched two people die, knowing I couldn't do shit but wait to be rescued. I'm supposed to save people, I'm not supposed to need saving".

"Dean, how many times have you saved me? Or Sam? Does that make either of us less of a hunter? Does that make either of useless?"

"No, but it's different".

"How exactly is it different? Why can't Dean Winchester need saving sometimes? You're not invincible Dean, you're human. Shit happens. Sometimes everyone needs a little saving. Sometimes you can't save everyone, no matter how good you are". She stood up and walked over to him, looking up at him. He turned his face away from her, but she reached up tentatively to put her hand on his cheek. He didn't resist when she turned his face to look down at her, and once he looked into her eyes, he broke. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into his chest, burying his face in her neck as he started to cry quietly. She wrapped her arms around his waist and stood there in his embrace, letting him get his emotions out. She was almost afraid to make any movement or say anything, in case it pulled him out of his vulnerability, but after a few minutes she leaned back slightly and looked up at him.

He blinked through his tears and sniffed, then frowned at her. "You're damp", he mumbled, and she couldn't help but laugh quietly.

"Yeah, it's raining".

"I'm sorry".

"For what?" She asked, rubbing his back gently.

"Being like this", he shrugged, "crying and punching things and..." He shook his head as if trying to get rid of his train of thought.

"And what?" She prompted him, tilting her head in curiosity. He paused in contemplation for a moment, glancing between her eyes, feeling comfort when all he saw was sincerity looking back at him. His hands fell to her waist and he held her firmly, pulling her back in closer to his chest.

"And needing you".

He was finally opening up to her, and she sighed in relief, knowing this meant he'd be okay. "I will always be here for you, Dean", she said.

"Is it okay?" He asked, looking down at her, his face suddenly full of worry. "Is it okay that I need you?"

"Dean", she said, moving her hands up to cup his cheeks, her thumbs wiping his tears away. "We all need each other. Sam and I need you, just like you and I need Sam".

"Like Sam and I need you", he nodded, and his hands left her waist to hold her arms, gently squeezing them as if to confirm to himself that she was real, and that she was standing in front of him in that moment. "You're shivering", he noted, "I'll get you some dry clothes". He pulled away from her and went to his bag, routing around and pulling out one of his clean flannels and a pair of sweatpants and handing them to her. "Can you... I mean", he cleared his throat nervously. "If you want to, you can stay in this room tonight. I don't think you should go back out into the rain".

"Is it okay with you if I stay here?" She smiled back at him.

"Yes", he said quickly. "I need you tonight... just uh, you make me feel calm, it's like I struggle to feel angry around you", he chuckled softly.

"You have a similar effect on me".

"Really?"

"Dean, your hugs make everything better".

"Come here", he reached his arm out to her and she put the clothes down onto the bed before going to him and being engulfed in his arms again. He held her tightly this time and she smiled as he kissed the top of her head. "You're still damp", he chuckled, and she felt the vibrations from his chest on the side of her face.

"I don't care", she squeezed him back and closed her eyes, hoping they'd somehow end up sharing a bed so she could stay in his arms for the night. She knew he was going to be okay, and that's all she needed in that moment.

The end

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